through a lot, and she was very upset.”
“I was very, very upset,” Shannon interjected.
Gabe considered adding just a few more
verys
. It was worth a try.
“You can’t even keep your hands off of her now, in front of me and Mr. Kinlichee and his family.”
Gabe moved to let go of her, but he was sorely afraid she might collapse.
“I would say, Miss—what was your name again?” Parson Ford straightened the coat of his black parson’s garb with a few quick, indignant tugs. “All I remember is that it isn’t Lasley.”
Gabe heard Shannon hesitate as if she thought the man, once armed with her name, was going straight to Shannon’s mother to tell of her sins.
“It’s Dysart. Shannon Dysart.”
“Well, Shannon Dysart,” the parson spoke as if he were handing down an eleventh commandment that he’d just received straight from a wrathful God, “I’d say that your upset has just begun.”
“When did you say your brother was gonna show up?” Tyra Morgan looked a long time at Abraham Lasley.
She would be well satisfied if Gabe turned out to be half the man his big brother was. Gabe didn’t look like Abraham. She’d seen Gabe a few years back, and he’d been dark haired and dark eyed, not fair like his brother. Abraham often said the six older brothers, of which he was the oldest, were the image of their pa, but Gabe took after their mother. He’d made a point of saying it to Gabe, too. An old family tradition of teasing.
But whether he resembled his big brothers or not, Gabe was tall and strong and quiet. In that way he was Abraham all over again.
Her sister had been happily married to Abraham since before Tyra was old enough to remember. Adam, their oldest son, was seventeen in a few months, and her nephew had been Tyra’s playmate from her earliest memory.
Tyra had wondered about Abe’s baby brother many times. She’d met most of Abraham’s family, named in alphabetical order as if their mother were afraid she’d forget what order they were born—Abraham, Bartholomew, Canaan, Darius, Ephraim, Felix, and Gabriel, the baby of the family, just as Tyra was the baby of her big family.
Tyra’s pa was slowing down, and would welcome help around the ranch with an eye toward Gabe taking over and running the place when he died. Abraham had assured her that this was all fine with Gabe, but Tyra was the youngest in her family, and she knew how big brothers and sisters could plan a person’s life.
“He should have been here days ago, but Gabe isn’t always the most dependable.” Abe shook his head in affectionate disparagement. “Still just a big kid.”
“He rode with the cavalry for years, Abe.” Madeline poured steaming coffee into Abraham’s cup and took a second to run one hand into her husband’s dark hair. “If he was a kid when he went in, you can be sure he grew up fast.”
Abraham tilted his head back and smiled a private smile at Maddy, Tyra’s big sister.
Tyra wanted like crazy to marry Gabe. It had been a fond wish of her childhood that she’d marry her big sister’s husband. It hadn’t taken much growing up before she’d figured out why that couldn’t happen. Over the years as the brothers had stopped in, Tyra had cast her eye at each of them, but of course, she was always too young. But lately she’d done some growing up and she’d turned her fertile imagination to Abe’s baby brother. The only one of the seven left single.
She’d even met him about five years ago, before she’d turned into a woman. Gabe had ridden through scouting for the cavalry, and she’d let her dreams run wild. Gabe had treated her like a little child.
It was infuriating that he couldn’t have waited two years to ride through. At thirteen it had been hopeless. By the time she was fifteen she could have caught his attention. She was eighteen now, and Abe, her pa, and she agreed Gabe ought to marry her and ranch with Pa. The man didn’t have a chance.
“And he’s been in California
“I was very, very upset,” Shannon interjected.
Gabe considered adding just a few more
verys
. It was worth a try.
“You can’t even keep your hands off of her now, in front of me and Mr. Kinlichee and his family.”
Gabe moved to let go of her, but he was sorely afraid she might collapse.
“I would say, Miss—what was your name again?” Parson Ford straightened the coat of his black parson’s garb with a few quick, indignant tugs. “All I remember is that it isn’t Lasley.”
Gabe heard Shannon hesitate as if she thought the man, once armed with her name, was going straight to Shannon’s mother to tell of her sins.
“It’s Dysart. Shannon Dysart.”
“Well, Shannon Dysart,” the parson spoke as if he were handing down an eleventh commandment that he’d just received straight from a wrathful God, “I’d say that your upset has just begun.”
“When did you say your brother was gonna show up?” Tyra Morgan looked a long time at Abraham Lasley.
She would be well satisfied if Gabe turned out to be half the man his big brother was. Gabe didn’t look like Abraham. She’d seen Gabe a few years back, and he’d been dark haired and dark eyed, not fair like his brother. Abraham often said the six older brothers, of which he was the oldest, were the image of their pa, but Gabe took after their mother. He’d made a point of saying it to Gabe, too. An old family tradition of teasing.
But whether he resembled his big brothers or not, Gabe was tall and strong and quiet. In that way he was Abraham all over again.
Her sister had been happily married to Abraham since before Tyra was old enough to remember. Adam, their oldest son, was seventeen in a few months, and her nephew had been Tyra’s playmate from her earliest memory.
Tyra had wondered about Abe’s baby brother many times. She’d met most of Abraham’s family, named in alphabetical order as if their mother were afraid she’d forget what order they were born—Abraham, Bartholomew, Canaan, Darius, Ephraim, Felix, and Gabriel, the baby of the family, just as Tyra was the baby of her big family.
Tyra’s pa was slowing down, and would welcome help around the ranch with an eye toward Gabe taking over and running the place when he died. Abraham had assured her that this was all fine with Gabe, but Tyra was the youngest in her family, and she knew how big brothers and sisters could plan a person’s life.
“He should have been here days ago, but Gabe isn’t always the most dependable.” Abe shook his head in affectionate disparagement. “Still just a big kid.”
“He rode with the cavalry for years, Abe.” Madeline poured steaming coffee into Abraham’s cup and took a second to run one hand into her husband’s dark hair. “If he was a kid when he went in, you can be sure he grew up fast.”
Abraham tilted his head back and smiled a private smile at Maddy, Tyra’s big sister.
Tyra wanted like crazy to marry Gabe. It had been a fond wish of her childhood that she’d marry her big sister’s husband. It hadn’t taken much growing up before she’d figured out why that couldn’t happen. Over the years as the brothers had stopped in, Tyra had cast her eye at each of them, but of course, she was always too young. But lately she’d done some growing up and she’d turned her fertile imagination to Abe’s baby brother. The only one of the seven left single.
She’d even met him about five years ago, before she’d turned into a woman. Gabe had ridden through scouting for the cavalry, and she’d let her dreams run wild. Gabe had treated her like a little child.
It was infuriating that he couldn’t have waited two years to ride through. At thirteen it had been hopeless. By the time she was fifteen she could have caught his attention. She was eighteen now, and Abe, her pa, and she agreed Gabe ought to marry her and ranch with Pa. The man didn’t have a chance.
“And he’s been in California
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