“You mean...she’s dead?”
He nodded, his heavy black braid shifting across his broad back. “I’ll take care of her and the kittens she left behind.”
Libby’s gaze swung to the stall, and she saw a tiny squirming mass in the straw. “Oh my God, she has babies!”
John stopped in the opening, the mother cat still in his arms. “They’re too small to make it. It’s kinder just to get rid of them.”
She dropped to her knees, and her eyes filled as she looked down at the tiny gray bodies. “They just need someone to feed them. I can do it. It won’t be that hard.”
“You’ll be up all hours of the night,” Big John said.
“I don’t care. You can’t just kill them. Please, John, let me take care of them.”
John said nothing, just stood there staring as if he was trying to read her thoughts, then he nodded.
“What’s going on here?” Sam strode up to the open stall door.
Libby put herself between the two men and the kittens. “I won’t let you take them. They deserve a chance to live.”
Big John looked at Sam. “One of the barn cats died. She just had a litter. They may be too small to survive, but Libby wants to try. I said it was okay.”
Sam’s gaze swung in her direction. He must have noticed her mutinous expression. “They’re going to take a lot of work. Are you sure?”
“I’ll take care of them. I can still do my other jobs.”
Something moved across his features. “All right. We’ll all pitch in if you need help.”
“I won’t,” she said firmly.
Sam nodded. “I think Clara has some doll bottles. She’s done this kind of thing before.”
Libby felt a wave of relief. “I just need to get them up to my room.”
Sam found a cardboard box and lined it with straw. They placed the minuscule newborn kittens in the box, and Sam carried it upstairs.
Libby had never really thought about backing out of the conditions of her uncle’s will and returning to New York, but if she had, the kittens would have ended the notion.
They needed her. It had been a long time since anyone had needed Liberty Hale.
Chapter Seven
With Clara making preparations for the three-day pack trip coming up tomorrow, Sam had no choice but to drive Libby into Coffee Springs.
The small community, just a little over a block long, had a narrow redbrick post office at one end and Rocky Mountain Supply at the other, and a mercantile and gas station that serviced the area for miles around. The only other businesses were the Coffee Springs Café, the Elkhorn Bar and Grill, Murray’s Grocery, the Coffee Springs Bed and Breakfast, and Fred’s Gun Shop and Dentistry.
Sam helped Libby out of the truck, and they headed into the big metal building that housed the mercantile.
“Mornin’, Sam.” Fran Tilman, one of the employees, hurried over to help. A stout, older woman with silver hair cut in a bob, Fran knew everyone in town and was always full of gossip.
Just what Sam didn’t need.
“Morning, Fran.” He turned. “Fran, this is Libby Hale. She’s working at the ranch this summer. She needs a few things.”
Fran’s shrewd gaze went from him to Libby. “Always happy to help.” Meaning she was happy to get a chance for fresh gossip.
Fran smiled, and Libby smiled back. “We got just about anything you can think of,” Fran said. “What do you need?”
Libby glanced around the big open area that held everything from farm equipment to saddles and horse gear, along with racks of clothing, heavy winter jackets, and Western wear.
“I’ll leave you to your shopping,” Sam said, eager to escape. “I’ve got some errands. I won’t be gone long.” He started to leave, stopped and turned back. “I don’t think I mentioned there’s a lake in the mountains where we’re camping. If you don’t have a bathing suit, you can probably find one here.”
Libby’s smile widened, betraying the first real excitement he had seen. “A lake. That sounds great. Don’t worry, I’ve got my own suit. I never travel without one.”
Sam ground down on the image of Libby in a miniscule bikini, but his body ignored him and stirred to life. He managed to nod as he walked away. Maybe he should have let her skip the pack trip after all.
* * * *
Libby glanced around the dome-shaped metal structure, taking in the automotive supplies, bags of dry dog food, saddles, bridles, and RV equipment.
“I came to buy a disposable camera.” She thought of her cell phone with longing. “If they still make those things.”
Fran nodded wisely. “Fujifilm Instax Mini. They come in different colors. There’s a rack right over here.” The plump woman led the way and Libby followed.
“Which one’s the best?” she asked.
“Well, you can buy the camera bundle, which has some extra goodies, but it costs quite a bit more.”
“I’ll take it.”
Fran eyed her a little differently, plucked a pink plastic camera off the rack and handed it over. “So how did you come to be working on the ranch? Are you a long-time friend of Sam’s?”
“My uncle was a friend. He suggested I come up for the summer.”
“Maybe I knew him. What was his name?”
Libby was there because she had no choice, but the woman didn’t need to know that. “Uncle Martin only came for a couple of weeks. He passed a few months back.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” They started toward the register. “You said you have a swimsuit. Is there anything else I can show you?”
She looked over at the Western clothes. “Sam thinks I need a pair of cowboy boots.”
Fran grinned. “We have a big boot department. And you might want to look at some Western shirts or jeans. We just got in a new shipment. Oh, and we got some beautiful Montana Silversmith’s jewelry: earrings, belt buckles, bracelets, that kind of thing. You’re new here, but eventually, you’ll probably end up over at the Elkhorn Bar and Grill. They have dances there on the weekends.”
“They have a band?”
“Sure do. If you don’t know how to country dance, I’m sure Sam can teach you.”
The implication was clear, but Libby didn’t take the bait, just smiled and made no reply. She followed Fran over to the Western wear department, which immediately captured her interest.