Page 39 of All We Carry Home

As I lifted the coiled rope, my heart fell. The mice had gotten to it, a tattered section in the middle now down to just a few threads. This was one thing I couldn’t wait to replace.

I found Eddie and told him I needed to go into town.

“Wait, wait.” He stood up, nails between his teeth, a long board under his arm, and several more boards at his feet. “I should go with you.”

“Don’t be silly.” I let out a long breath. “You’re in the middle of something and I’m just running to the farm store and back.”

Eddie looked at the unfinished stall and then back at me. “Warren asked me to keep an eye on you.”

The thought warmed me, though the precaution wasn’t necessary.

Annie skipped by, chasing after my loose little goat that I never was able to keep fenced in.

“What if I take Annie with me?” I suggested. “Safety in numbers, right?”

He considered it and then nodded. “She’d probably love that too.”

I gathered Annie from the chicken coop, where she was feeding and petting the hens. She excitedly jumped into the cab, and we set out for town.

The sun was nearing its high point for the day as I parked along Main Street in front of Delmore’s tack store, and Annie and I walked inside. In the dim lighting, I blinked a few times.

The smiling older man behind the counter straightened and lifted his cowboy hat off. “Dear me, is that little Eva?”

“Hello, Delmore.” I chuckled. “Good to see you.”

He walked around the counter and enveloped me in a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about Bill. He was a good man. The best of us.” Delmore was the same age as Gramps, and they had been friends all their lives.

I motioned to Annie, introducing her as Eddie Moore’s daughter. Annie nodded her head shyly, always more at ease around animals than people, it seemed.

“Do you have a lariat?” I asked. “The mice ate mine.”

“Sure, I’ve got a few in the back.” Delmore disappeared behind some shelves that looked like the cleaner, newer version of our tack room. Annie wandered through the aisles and studied the items with interest.

“Eva?”

My heart lurched at the voice behind me. I turned to see Keith dressed in his riding breeches and the plaid red shirt that he’d worn often as a teen.

“How are you?” he asked, holding several new halters and lead ropes in his hand.

“I’m fine.”

He spoke quickly, as if worried I might walk away. “Look, would you be able to help me out with a new filly I need to start?”

The knot in my stomach loosened ever so slightly. “Are you sure you’re asking the right person?”

“I’ve got too many and not enough hands.” He flushed. “I’ll pay for your services, of course.”

How could I turn down a paying customer? But I knew Warren wouldn’t like it—he didn’t trust Keith.

Annie glanced my way a few times and paused at a rack of books near the front door. She picked up one with a cover I recognized, about an Arabian colt named Azam from the Kellogg Ranch in California. I had read that same book countless times, though my copy was broken and tattered at the spine.

I shifted my focus back to Keith. “You thought about what your father will say?”

“He doesn’t pay attention to anything I do,” he said somberly. Then he forced a smile. “I could bring her by tomorrow.”

Delmore returned with my rope, and I turned to pay for the item. “The Azam book too,” I said, winking at Annie.

“Thank you, Eva,” she said, clutching the book to her chest. “I’ll pay you back.”