Early Sunday morning, as Bobby read an old newspaper to the sleeping Melinda, she opened her eyes.  Bobby had become accustomed to her doing so, but the action was usually followed by a short incoherent phase and then the closing of her eyes again.  She had actually awakened only a few times since she took ill.  So, he kept reading, paying her no mind.

"Bobby," she whispered.

Bobby looked up from the paper.  "Melinda?"

"Keep reading please."  Her words were barely audible.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes."

He leaned closer to her.  "Oh, thank God!  You had me so worried."

"Why?"

"You had the fever."

"How's Birdie?"

"You don't need to be worryin' 'bout her.  Just rest and concentrate on gittin' yerself better."

She tried to sit up.  "She's still sick.  Isn't she?  I've got to help her."

Bobby put up a hand.  "Whoa, there.  You're not goin' anywhere."

"But she needs my help," Melinda coughed.

"No," he said, "You need yer help.  You need to take it easy."

She eased herself back down on the pillow.  "Why are you here?"

Bobby's heart sank.  He cleared his throat.  "I've been takin' care of ya."

"You?  Why?"

His frown widened.  "Well, it was the least I could do after you nursed me when I was sick."

"And the doctor?  Why isn't Philip here instead?" she asked.

Bobby's eyes narrowed.  He had never heard Dr. Stokely called by his fist name.  Was there a special relationship between Melinda and the doctor?  I bet he's courtin' her, he thought.  They sat together at the church picnic.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts.  "The doc's been here twice a day," he said.  "Seems that he was pretty worried too."

"I was that bad?" she whispered.

Bobby nodded.  "But now everything's gonna be alright."

"Oh, my!"  Her breath caught in her throat, and she coughed.  "What about Shalene Hoffman's wedding gown?"

"Her beau, Paul—I think that's his name—came an' got it when the doc told him you were sick."  He smiled.  "Would you like some coffee?  Mine ain't as good as yours, but it'll do."

"Sure," Melinda said, and she tried to smile back.  "Coffee sounds really good."

"I bet you're hungry too," Bobby realized.  "Ya want somethin' ta eat?"

"There's probably not much down there.  Is there?  I haven't bought supplies in forever."

"Sister Smith brought some ham an' bread.  Feel like a san'wich?"

"That would be great."

After Bobby left the room, Melinda sat up as best she could and sighed.  She ran a hand across the top of her head.  She gasped.  I thought I looked bad the other day, she thought.  Now I must look absolutely horrible.  What I wouldn't do to be able to wash my hair.

Despite the soreness in her muscles, she reached for her hairbrush on the night table.   Her hand touched something small and cool.  She picked up the brush, revealing the law badge.

"Where did that come from?" she wondered aloud.  "I haven't seen it since John died."

She snatched it up and laid it on her lap.  Then she began combing her unruly hair.  It would take forever to get all the tangles out.  She returned the brush to its resting place and clutched the badge in her hand.

Bobby returned with a plate and cup.  "Ham san'wich an' a cup of coffee," he announced.  "Plate in yer lap?"

She nodded and reached for the cup with her empty hand.

"Well, don't you look all pretty?" he smiled.  "Yer hair all smooth an' shiny.  How ya feelin'?"

She swallowed a sip of coffee.  "Actually really well considering the circumstances.  I'm jittery and weak, but okay."

"That's good ta hear."  He spotted her clenched fist.  "Whatcha got there in yer hand?"

She held up the coin.  "It's John's law badge.  I thought it was gone.  Do you know where it came from?"

Bobby rubbed at his neck.  "Well, I was lookin' fer some clothes to change into the first night I was here.  I hope you don't mind.  My shirt an' pants were soaked through from bein' out in the storm.  The badge fell outa a shirt pocket.  I was gonna ask ya 'bout it later."

"I'm glad you found it.  I wanted to keep it, but I hadn't seen it since…"  Her voice cracked.  "I remember now.  I had on John's shirt the day I found out about him.  I had worn some old clothes to ride into town.  Red  must have given it to me, and I stuck it in the pocket.  I hadn't been able to find it until now."  She lowered her hand and her eyes at the same time.  "Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Bobby whispered.

Melinda nodded.  She looked up at him again.  "I guess you probably haven't heard how he died—why Joey and I are alone."

"No," he admitted, "But I know it's painful.  You don't need to tell me."

"I want to," she said.  "That is—if you don't care to listen."

"I don't mind at all," Bobby said.   He pulled the rocking chair to the bedside.  "In fact, I'd like to know."

Melinda stared at the crust on her sandwich.  She pushed at a bread crumb and began her tale.  "It was a beautiful day in late May, the day of our fourth wedding anniversary.   Jonathan brought me breakfast in bed."  She smiled.  "I could hear Joey in his room singing.  He's always been an early riser.  Half the time he beats me up.

"Anyway, John had to go to Cold Spring to escort a convict to Houston for trial.  I begged him not to go.  After all, it was our anniversary.  The sun was shining, and I wanted to have a picnic down by the creek.  But he knew, and I knew, that he had to go.  It was his job—a job that he had sworn would come before family, friends, and his own self.  He was such an unselfish man.  Lawmen have to be.  That's why so many don't get married."

Bobby nodded.

"So after he left, Joey and I went to the creek by ourselves.  That afternoon, while we were picking wild flowers, a storm moved in.  It started raining before we could even get home.  I had never seen it rain as hard as it did that day.  I cried myself to sleep that night, for I knew the heavy rain would delay John's return.  I wanted him home right then.  It was bad enough that I wouldn't see him for three or four days, but now it would be even longer.

"A week passed, and it rained every day during that week.  It was so miserable.  A million times I looked toward the road longing to see him, but he did not come home.  I didn't think he'd be gone that long, even with all the rain.  I knew the creek was probably pretty much impassable by foot or wagon.  All the water would have it out of its banks.  But his horse was strong, the best beast anyone in these parts had ever known.   Surely old Black could make it across, could bring him home to me.

"On the ninth day, I had to find out something, anything.  I hitched the wagon and headed toward town.  I figured the creek would have gone down enough by then.  It had.  We were a couple of miles down the road when Joey spotted a lone horse and rider.  I thought it was John at first, but as he drew nearer, I saw that it was Red.

"I knew by the look on his face that something was wrong.  He wanted me to turn around and go back home, wanted to talk to me somewhere where I was comfortable, he said.  But I refused.  I lowered Joey down to the ground to play in the mud, and I made Red tell me the news right there in the middle of the road.  He said the marshal had ridden to Point Blank himself to tell me but couldn't get out to my house on account of all the water.  So he left word with Red and went back to the city.

"Apparently some man from the east part of the state was traveling through Huntsville gambling, taking people for rides, cheating them out of money, horses, all sorts of things.  The story around the town was that his wife had died a few years back, and he was upset.  He turned to the bottle and a deck of cards.  He gambled and drank away his family fortune.  And then he was cheating people to try to gain some of it back.

"John had had only stopped in town to wire the marshal of his delay, but since they had no sheriff, he knew that he had to take care of this character.  Well, the man caught wind that Jonathan was coming, and he waited for him in the alley outside the saloon.  He shot him in cold blood.  John never even had a chance to draw.  He didn't see it coming.

"The marshal said that the local pastor had had a small service for him in the church cemetery.  Thought it would be better than sending him all the way home in the mud and heat.  Red took me out there to the grave.  It about killed me knowing that John was buried so far from home.  In fact, I haven't been back since."  She broke off a piece of the sandwich and nibbled it.

Bobby closed his eyes momentarily.  He had never realized just how strong this woman in front of him really was.  Now he knew.  He opened his eyes.  "What about the gambler—the man who killed John?" he asked.  "Did he hang?"

Melinda looked at him sadly.  "No.  He ran, got away.  Though they knew he was from the East, they had no name, no town, nothing to go by.  They have a composite drawing, the one on his wanted poster, but that's all really."

"I'm sorry for yer loss," Bobby said sincerely.  "I understand yer pain.  An' if I can do anything to help you an' little Joey, just let me know."

She nodded.  "I think I'm done with this."  She held up the plate.

He stood and took it from her.  "Tell you what—I'll go downstairs so you can get some rest."

She sank down between the pillows and closed her eyes.  Bobby walked slowly toward the door.

"Bobby," Melinda whispered.

He turned toward her.  "Yes?"

"Thank you for listening."

"Yer welcome."

Bobby sat at the table staring out the window.  A million thoughts seemed to rush around in his mind.  His heart ached for Melinda, and yet he was amazed at how well she handled herself.  He was ashamed of himself for being so distraught over LeAnna.  He wanted to be strong like Melinda was.  And Joey—he hardly even knew his daddy.  Poor little tyke, he thought.

Birdie came to mind next.  He wondered how she was.  He'd ask Dr. Stokely.  The doc would probably be by in the afternoon.

Next he thought of Red.  He must be workin' his fingers to the bone.  Well, as soon as Melinda was strong enough, he would get back to the farm to help Red.

This is a real good family I've become friends with.  Melinda, Birdie, Red, and Joey.  Gosh, little Joey must miss his momma.

 A knock sounded at the door, and he rose from the chair.  It was Dr. Stokely.  "How's Melinda?"

"Much better," Bobby replied.  "She was awake awhile ago an' ate a few bites.  She's asleep now, though."

"Good, good," the doctor said as he placed his hat atop the coat rack.  "I'll stick around until she wakes up just to make sure everything is alright."

Bobby shook his head in agreement.  "Coffee?"

"Oh, no.  I'm fine."

They both walked toward the divan.  Bobby's toe kicked something.  He bent down and pick up the item, one of Joey's toy building blocks.  He stared at it for a few seconds.  "Is Melinda still contagious?" he asked.

"No, shouldn't be."  The doctor sat down.

Bobby did not.  "You said yer gonna stay here for a little while?"

"Yes," Doc Stokely replied.  "At least until I can examine Melinda thoroughly.  And I bet she'll want help washing her hair.  Women have a thing about that."

"You think that'll be long enough for me to run into town an' back?"

"Probably.  Why?"
"Just a few thing I need to pick up."  He didn't wait for the doctor to say anything else.  He practically ran to the barn for his horse.

In town, he got some clothes from the boardinghouse and then proceeded to the general store.

"What supplies does Melinda Warren usually get when she comes in?" he asked Mr. Hudson who was unpacking some crates.

"I'll look in my ledger," the man replied.  He walked to the glass counter.  "Is Miss Warren okay?" he asked as he opened the book.  "She hasn't been in lately."

"Actually," Bobby said, "She had a run-in with the scarlet fever, but she's better now."

"Here's her account."  Mr. Hudson pointed to the page.  "Would you like me to gather the items for you?"

"Sure.  I need ta run ta Pastor Smith's house anyway.  Be back in a few."

Bobby knocked at the parsonage door, but there was no reply.  Then he heard voices at the back of the house.  As he turned the corner, he heard Joey asking questions.

"Mrs. Smith, when is my mommy gonna get well again?"

Bobby could not hear Lyla's response.

Joey paused momentarily and then, "Is she gonna die like my daddy did?"

Bobby hurried toward him.  "No, she is not.  In fact, how would you like ta go see her?"

"Really?"  Joey clapped his hands.  "Can I Mr. Lester?  Can I?"

"Well," Bobby said, "You'd better ask Mrs. Smith if it's alright."

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea," Lyla smiled.  "And Bobby, I have some more bread for you."

He lifted Joey with one arm.  "I don't think there'll be room on this trip, Mrs. Smith.  I'm takin' some supplies back with me.  Ya think I could come get it tomorrow?"

"Sure, that would be fine."

He hurriedly carried Joey to his horse and lifted him to the saddle.

At the mercantile, Mr. Hudson had the order ready.  Bobby handed him the required cash.  "Does Miss Warren have any money due on her account?" he asked.

The store's owner opened the ledger once more.  "Three dollars and sixty-two cents."

Bobby gave him more coins.  "That should take care of it.  An' give me a bagful of those lemon drops."

Joey's eyes grew wide.  "You takin' that candy to my mommy?"

Bobby grinned.  "Yep, an' some of it's fer you."

Joey clapped his hands again.  "Oh, goody!  That's mine an' Mama's favorite!  She'll be 'sited."

Bobby's smile grew wider.

Joey talked all the way home.  The anticipation of finally seeing his mother was almost more than he could bear.  Bobby didn't mind the endless chatter.  He actually quite enjoyed it.  He was growing so fond of the little boy.

"I decided what I want to be when I git big," he informed Bobby.

"What's that?"

"I wanna be a policeman like my daddy was.  'Cept I don't want to chase mean men.  My momma says that's too dang'rous.  I figure I could just look at cut fences and' try ta catch the guys who steal farmers' cows.  That would be safer."

Bobby cleared his throat.  "Have ya told yer momma this before?"

The boy shook his head.  "No."

"Well, maybe you should have another job ta fall back on in case yer momma don't like that choice."

Joey looked up to the sky.  "'Kay, I could be a post rider.  That'd be fun."

Bobby chuckled.  A post rider was almost as dangerous as a ranger.  It seemed Joey liked adventure.  Bobby wondered if the boy could chose a job Melinda would agree with.  "Wouldn't ya wanna be a rancher like yer Uncle Red?"

Naw, that's gettin' boring.  I mean, I like the calf ropin' an' brandin' an' stuff, but that haulin' hay an' givin' the cows medicine don't look fun at all."

Bobby agreed.  It was hard work.  But what profession wasn't?  "You've got a lot of time ta think 'bout it," he said.  "Who knows what you'll choose.  Maybe a doctor or a preacher."

"No, those jobs are boring too," Joey insisted.  "I like Doc Stokley and Preacher Smith, but they ain't exac'ly excitin'."

Bobby thought for a moment.  "Do you know Doc Stokley very good?" he asked.  "I mean, does he spend very much time with yer momma?"

"No," Joey answered.  "He comed over awhile back ta ask Mama if she would be his nurse.  I 'member 'im askin' 'er.  But she told 'im that she didn't want to be a nurse anymore, that she liked 'er sewin' business."

"So he doesn't come over ta yer house a lot?"

"No, just that one time that I can 'member."

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mr. Lester," Joey said after a short moment of silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you gonna marry my momma?"

Bobby's heart jumped to his throat.  How should he answer?  He had many times had the very thought himself.  He shook his head.  He was a wanted man.  "No, Joey.  I'm not gonna marry yer momma."

"Why not?  You'd make a great pa."

Bobby spotted a hawk in the distant sky.  He pointed toward it.  "See that black speck in the sky?"  He could feel Joey's head bob up and down under his chin.  "That's a hawk.  Hawks are really big birds."

"Doesn't look very big ta me."

"That's because we're so far away from it."

"Can we see one up close, Mr. Lester?"

He smiled.  "How 'bout you call me Bobby?"

"Are you sure that's okay?" Joey asked.  "My momma said I have ta say 'Miss' an' 'Mister'."

"An' that's good," Bobby agreed.  "Go ahead an' call everyone else 'Miss' an' 'Mister,' but I'll let yer ma know that it's okay fer ya ta call me Bobby.  I like it better.  That alright with you?"

"Great.  So you think we could pet a hawk bird?"

"No, prob'ly not.  They don't take too kindly to people bein' near them."

"Oh."

"Ya wanna surprise yer ma when you get home?" Bobby asked the boy.

 "Okay."

"She doesn't know yer comin'," the young man explained.  "So you be real quiet-like so that she doesn't know yer there.  Then we'll surprise her with you an' the lemon drops."

Joey giggled.   "Mama likes s'prises."

The boy did not say a word as they unsaddled the horse in the barn.   He whispered to Bobby when they stepped inside the house.  "Will you carry me upstairs?  I'm 'fraid I can't make it without makin' noise."

Bobby nodded and lifted him to his shoulder.  He set him back on the floor outside Melinda's bedroom.  "I'll go first," the man said.  He quietly knocked at the door.

"It's okay," Melinda said.  "Come on in."

He stepped inside.  "How ya feelin'?" he asked her.

"Even better," she replied.

"I hope good enough for a big supper.  I ran ta town an' picked up some supplies.  Gonna make ya a feast."

She smiled.  "Sounds good."

The doctor snapped his medical bag shut.  "Sounds good to me too.  What time should I be back?"

They all laughed.

"Oh," Bobby interjected.  "An' I picked ya up somethin' else in town too."

"What's that?" she asked.

He stepped into the hallway again and picked up Joey.  "When we walk into yer momma's room," he whispered to the boy, "you shout 'surprise'."

"Okay."

 They turned the corner of the door facing.  "S'prise!" Joey exclaimed, and then he snickered loudly.

"Joey!"  Melinda joined the laughter.  "It's so good to see you, little guy."

Bobby set him on the bed next to Melinda.  "An' we got anover s'prise fer ya too," the boy told her.

She hugged him close.  "Another?  Wow.  What is it?"

"Lemon drops!"  He held the bag high in the air and sprinkled several pieces of candy around them.

They all were laughing again.

Joey shrugged his shoulders.   "An' I didn't even haf ta tell Bobby what kind you liked.  He already knew!"

Bobby smiled.  "I told him he could call me 'Bobby' since I'm his special friend."  He paused.  "An' the lemon drops was just a lucky guess.  I just got the kind I like and hoped y'all liked 'em too."

Dr. Stokely stepped toward the door.  He looked at Bobby.  "How 'bout we leave them alone for awhile?"

Bobby nodded and followed him downstairs.  "When do ya think Melinda will be able ta git up an' around?" he asked.

"Any time now," Dr, Stokely replied.  "She just needs to take it slowly.  It will take her awhile to regain her strength.  But she knows that.  Hopefully she'll go easy.  Make sure she gets plenty to eat and lots of water.  Have her walk around the room a couple times a day to regain her muscle strength before she tries the stairs.  I'll stop by one last time in a couple of days to make sure everything's going alright."

Bobby closed the door behind the man in the black suit.  He slowly walked to the kitchen.  "Time ta make supper," he told himself excitedly.  He looked forward to taking care of Melinda for a few more days.  And having Joey there would make the stay even more enjoyable.

Dinner consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and cornbread.  He didn't know how to make much more than that.  And he really didn't know how much to make.  There were a lot of leftovers.

Melinda seemed to eat well enough, and Bobby encouraged her to get out of bed and walk around a bit.  She ended her exercise with a sit in the rocking chair reading Joey a story.

Bobby also listened intently to her gentle voice from across the room.  He had almost fallen asleep when he remembered that he had dinner dishes to wash and supplies to put away.  As he shuffled down the staircase, he heard a knock at the front door.  Feeling charged from the time spent with Melinda and Joey, he jumped the banister and landed gracefully on the hardwood floor below.  He grinned and rushed to the door.  Betty Hoffines smiled her 'hello.'

"Bobby," she said, "Philip said you were here.  I need to talk to you about doin' some more work for me on the house.  I'm gonna sell it after me and Philip get married.  An' since the day was so pretty, thought I'd ride out here before dusk.  Do you think you'll be able to do some more work for me in the next few weeks?"

Bobby motioned toward the porch.  "I don't see why not," he said.  "I need to help Red O'Brien get things caught up around his farm.  Then I should have some time to help ya out.  You and the doc, huh?  I had no idea.  Let's take a little walk and discuss what all ya need done."

Betty nodded, and they stepped toward the apple grove.

Melinda returned to her room after putting Joey to bed.  It was still early, but the boy was tuckered after the long day of excitement.  She stopped next to the armoire that still held John's clothes.  "I have got to go through all of his things," she told herself.  "I just haven't been able to find the time.  I've sewn more in the last ten months than I think I have in my entire life before that."  She sighed.  "Bobby must think I'm crazy, still having my deceased husband's clothes in the closet.

"Of course, he'd think I was crazy anyway if he heard me talking to myself right now."  She shook her head and then looked toward the window.  She listened.  She could have sworn she heard a woman's voice.  Had someone come to visit?  Perhaps it was Sister Lyla.  I'd love to have a nice chat with her, Melinda thought.

She walked to the window.  The evening shadows were beginning to grow long, but she noticed an appaloosa mare just around the corner of the house.  She did not recognize the horse.  She then spotted some movement near the fence.  She could tell one of the figures there was Bobby.  The other person was a lady, but who, she did not know.  She leaned as close to the window as possible without sticking her head outside.  She didn't want to be seen and have Bobby thinking she was spying on him.  Even though I am, she thought.  Bobby said something, and his companion laughed.  They stepped into the late golden sunlight.  Bobby was grinning from ear to ear.

"That's Betty Hoffines!" Melinda almost shouted.  She recalled that Bobby had said that he was at Betty's house when Chad was ill.  "And they were always talking to each other at the church picnic.  Bobby must be courting her," she decided.  Her heart sank.  She rolled her eyes.  "Oh, stop it," she told herself.  "You weren't really interested in him anyway."

She sat down on the bed.  I don't really want to go to bed this early, she thought.  I'll just rest my eyes a little, and then I'll get up and start sorting through John's things.  Hmmm…  Red probably wouldn't be able to wear John's pants.  He isn't as thin as John was.  She shrugged.  I could let them out for him.  No, they still probably wouldn't be big enough.  I guess I could shorten them for Bobby.  Wait—I know—that boy Johnson who works for Mr. Calahan—he's quite tall.  I bet they would fit him.

She closed her eyes.  She let her mind wander.  When she came to her senses, she realized that she had been thinking of Bobby.  And she realized that she had dozed off.  It was now dark outside and in her bedroom.  She sighed.  I might as well go on to bed now.  I'll get up early and work on cleaning out the closets in the morning.  But now she couldn't sleep for thinking about Bobby and Betty.