“Yes, you are.” Hattie climbed up into the stage with them. “And me and Jamie and Kate and Victor expect you to protect us.”
“I won’t let nothing hurt you,” Gracie declared. “Look, Mama. I’m a real cowgirl. Someday I’m going to live on a ranch like this and wear this gun every day and be just like Waylon.”
“Well, now.” Jamie nodded. “That is a mighty fine goal.”
Kate giggled as she climbed into the stagecoach. Someday she’d like to do the same thing, only maybe without wearing a gun every day.
Whoa, hoss! she thought and then laughed under her breath. Not one time in her life had those two words ever gone through her mind.
Waylon and Paul climbed up on the top while Hattie, Jamie, and Victor settled themselves inside with the children, who were already poking their guns out the windows.
“Y’all ready in there?” Waylon yelled.
The girls gave a shout.
Jamie and Kate sat on one side of the coach. Victor and Hattie took the other seat. Gracie kept watch on one side while Lisa had her BB gun poked out the other way.
“It’s rougher than riding down Main Street,” Hattie said.
“It’s fun.” Gracie raised her voice above the sound of the wheels and the horses. “I love it.”
Kate agreed with Gracie. It was fun, even though it was hot and the ride was rough.
“How far are we traveling?” Jamie asked.
“To the back side of the property by the creek. It’s about a mile, and Waylon is going to drive slow, so maybe thirty to forty-five minutes,” Victor answered.
“I see a bandit,” Lisa hollered and pointed out the window.
“Where? I’ll shoot the dirty dogs and feed them to the coyotes,” Gracie growled as she pulled the trigger on her gun and made popping noises with her tongue each time.
“Good Lord, Gracie, where did you hear that?” Jamie asked.
“From John Wayne movies. The babysitter let me watch them while she made out with her boyfriend on the porch.” Gracie spoke above the noise of the horses and the rattle of the wheels. “Lisa, there’s some more on your side. Shoot ’em before they get Kate. They’ll kill her for sure because she can’t even cook, and they’ll steal my mama because she makes good fried chicken.”
“I’m glad you cowgirls are here to keep me safe.” Kate gasped with a smile she tried to hide.
“You really can’t cook?” Paul asked.
Kate shook her head. “Never found the need to learn until I came here, and Jamie and Amanda are so good at it that I still don’t feel the need.”
“Surprising, isn’t it?” Jamie said. “I thought she could do anything, too, until I got to know her and found out that she doesn’t even own a superwoman cape.”
By the time they reached the picnic area, the path was strewn with imaginary bandits, dirty rotten coyotes, and one or two dozen snakes. When Waylon brought the coach to a stop, Gracie blew on the end of her gun.
“We made it, guys,” Lisa said. “We’ll be safe here. We can leave our guns in the stagecoach.”
“Not me!” Gracie said. “We need to take them with us. There might be a bear out there.”
Waylon climbed down from the top and opened the stage door on Kate’s side. He held his hand, and she put hers in it. A sweet little shot of heat flushed her cheeks.
“You girls did a fine job of protecting us. Miz Gracie, may I help you out of the coach?” Waylon asked.
She jumped out into his arms and then wiggled free and yelled, “Look, there’s water! Lisa, come on over here to this side. We’ve got a swimmin’ pool! Nobody told me about this!”
“It was a surprise,” Jamie said.
“Water’s cold, so y’all might want to just wade around and look for minnows,” Waylon told them.
“Hey, Mama, can I get in the water up to my knees?” Gracie yelled from the shore, where she’d taken off her sandals.
“That’s about how deep the creek is,” Waylon said to Jamie. “It’s spring fed and cold as ice so they won’t get in that deep.”
“Yes, you can, but stay where I can see you,” Jamie yelled back.
“We’ve got guns, so if y’all see any bears you call us and we’ll come runnin’,” Lisa hollered.
“If I could go back in time, I would have a houseful just like them,” Waylon told Kate.
“So would I,” Kate answered.
Kate helped Hattie spread a quilt out under the drooping limbs of an old willow tree not far from the clear, trickling creek. Then Victor and Paul brought the food down from the top of the stagecoach and they set out a picnic fit for a queen. The girls romped through the water shooting bears behind every rock and blade of grass until Lisa said something to the Gracie and the bears were forgotten.
“Is that fried chicken, Daddy? We ain’t had that in a long time,” Lisa said.
“Not since Sunday at the church potluck,” Paul said.
Lisa nodded. “That’s a long time.”
After they ate, Hattie brought out a couple of old books and moved the children over to another quilt that she’d arranged under the shade of a big pecan tree. “I thought I’d read to you while your dinner settles,” she said. “You can’t hunt bears or get in the water for a little while after you eat.”
“Is that ABC?” Lisa yawned.