Wolf Runner by Constance O'Banyon Page B

she say to him? She had been humiliated that her grandmother had involved him in her troubles. She would always be grateful he had arrived in time to make Mr. Sullivan leave, but she didn’t know him, and wasn’t going to trust a stranger.
    As Wolf Runner rode away he could not get the problems of the young woman out of his mind. She said she was going to be all right, but he did not believe it, and he did not think she did either.
    Cheyenne Gatlin was in no way his responsibility. He had offered to help, and she had refused. That settled the matter, as far as he was concerned.
    Romero and Ricardo Mendoza had just finished lifting the last crate in the loft of the blacksmith shop, and the oldest, Romero, who was fifteen, came down the ladder to stand before Cheyenne. “That is the last of it, Señorita Cheyenne. Will you need anything else?”
    She pressed a coin in each of their hands. “There is nothing else. Thank you both for your help.”
    Señor Mendoza had been watching the exchange and looked at each of his sons sternly. “Do we take money from our friends?”
    Both boys looked ashamed and handed Cheyenne back her coins.
    “But Señor Mendoza, I want to pay the boys for their work.”
    “Say nothing more about it.” He turned back to his sons. “Do you not have chores to do for your mother?”
    Both nodded and dashed out of the blacksmith shop.
    “They are good boys,” Señor Mendoza said with pride.
    “Yes, they are,” Cheyenne agreed.
    “Your belongings will be safe in the loft until you have need of them.”
    “I seem to always be thanking you for your many kindnesses.”
    “It is a pleasure to be of help.” His brown eyes took on a serious expression. “But the family wishes to do more.”
    “You have already been a great help to me. I don’t know what I would have done without your family.”
    “We had a meeting last night and we all decided we would like you to come and live with us. The boys have agreed to sleep here in the shop. In fact, they are most eager to do so; I suspect they would enjoy the freedom away from their mother’s watchful eye. You can bunk in with Maria and her sisters. They are eager to have you with them.”
    Cheyenne smiled. “Life can’t be so hard when I have friends like you and your family. I would like to stay the night with you—then I will be leaving for Albuquerque on the morning train.”
    He frowned. “What will you do there?” he asked in concern. “You have no friends in that town, while you have us here in Santa Fe.”
    “There might be an advantage to being unknown,” Cheyenne said, putting on a brave front. “Besides that, Albuquerque is a larger town and perhaps it will be easier to find employment.”
    “What kind of job will you seek,” he asked worriedly.
    “I would prefer to be a housekeeper or a shop clerk, if I can find someone who will employ me.”
    “I see your mind is made up, so go with God, se-ñorita. He will keep you safe.” He looped a rope around his hand and hung it on a hook. “Should you find it does not work out for you in Albuquerque, come home to us.”
    She touched his arm and he clasped her hand. “You will see me again.”
    Wolf Runner reached through the rungs of the boxcar and rubbed his horse’s neck. “He is always nervous and high-strung,” he told the conductor who stood beside him.
    “Most of them are like that before they settle down.” The man reached in and touched the horse’s sleek neck. “This is a fine animal.”
    “A little bit of home,” Wolf Runner said, turning away. “He’s from my father’s breed.” He glanced back at the conductor. The man was tall, with a thin face and long black hair. “You will see that he has food and water. Of course, I will tend to the wolf.”
    The older man laughed at Wolf Runner’s words. “I’ve been working on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad since it first reached Santa Fe. In all that time I have never lost a horse, and I have never