She and Patience walked in, but the store was deserted. Helena glanced at her friend’s worried frown, then rushed into the back room, tucked behind a curtain. There she found Abby lying on a chaise with her eyes closed and a cloth on her forehead.

Eyes nearly identical to Brendan’s opened and widened as Helena hurried forward. Abby was pale as death and looked horribly weak.

Helena sat down on the foot of the chaise. “Abby, sweetie, what is it? You look awful.”

“I love you, too.”

At least her sense of humor was intact. “You know what I mean,” Helena said with a mock frown.

A frail smile tipped Abby’s lips. “I don’t know what anyone can do. I feel like death itself. I never felt this bad with Daniel.”

Helena stared. “A baby?”

Patience let out a little squeal of delight from the doorway and rushed to the other side of the chaise.

Helena did her best to be thrilled for Abby, who’d given up hope of having another child. But inside she felt hollow. Alone.

“Don’t tell my brother. He’s always been my rock, but he hovers, and I don’t want that right now. He’s pigheaded and won’t take no for an answer when he wants to help.”

Helena grimaced. “Rock-headed, you mean.”

“Good sweet Lord, are you two still going at it? I thought he’d moved home.”

“He made it clear he’s only there to catch the raiders. He thinks they may hit Shamrock next. Once he solves the problem of these raids, he’ll be gone again. Of course, he’s let everyone think he’s moved home, he says to protect me—”

“But that’s sent your desertion claim flyin’ out the window,” Abby said. “He really is a blockhead, but...but I know he loves you.”

A surge of anger blasted through Helena. It was so strong she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Has it ever occurred to anyone that I might be done with him?”

“Oh, you can’t mean that,” Abby cried. Then she took in a sharp breath and stared for a long moment. “I’m sorry. It’s easy to forget how much you’ve had to deal with all alone.”

If she only knew the half of it. Helena wiped away tears she hadn’t known were falling. They’d blinded her to the worry and concern in her friends’ faces. “I’m fine. Having so much to do at Shamrock has kept me putting one foot in front of the other, with no time to think. It’s a strain having him there. I don’t need him. Not anymore. When I did, he was off nursing wounded pride. After he left me standing outside the land office that day, I got home, and all his things were just gone. He left me an object of pity to everyone around here when he disappeared.”

Abby’s expression brightened, as if she’d made a monumental discovery. “That’s why you kept to yourself after Brendan left. Not because you were angry at us.”

Helena was so tired of half-truths, but she had no choice; she told another. “He never wrote me, or asked after me when he wrote you. If you hadn’t kept in touch with him, and dropped little pieces of information about his life to me, he could have been dead for all I knew.”

Abby shook her head. “Brendan is an idiot. But, Helena, he did ask after you—when he finally got in touch. I wasn’t to tell you, however.

“You were brave and steadfast in your love for him. Suppose that monster of a guardian of yours had figured out that you and Josh were spying to save Bren? I shudder to think what would have happened. My great, giant, pigheaded idiot of a brother needs a good swift kick in the tail!”

Helena made her excuses after that, changed, then left Abby and Patience to their talk of babies. She retrieved Paint Box from outside the hotel and left Tierra del Verde and Brendan behind. But in the back of her mind, one phrase resounded.

He did ask after you.

* * *

Two or so hours later, Helena slogged through knee-deep mud to help her men pull a frightened newborn Texas longhorn to safety. The incessant lowing of the nervous mama in the background wasn’t helping settle the little one. But there was no hope of quieting the cow, which had probably delivered only the day before.

There was no better mother in the bovine kingdom than a Texas longhorn. To protect their progeny from a predator, the cows were known to band together in a circle with their horns outward, keeping their calves and heifers safely in the center. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much a cow could do if her curious offspring wandered into a mud pit that was normally a watering hole.

“It’ll be just fine, little one,” Helena murmured as she reached the struggling baby, which went still. Since her voice seemed to soothe the animal and stop its needless struggle, Helena kept up the low, quiet crooning. “I know you’re scared, but we’re here to help.” Big brown eyes stared into hers and stole her heart. This one was a keeper. Heifer or calf, this one would be staying at Shamrock to help build its future. “You’ll be back with your mama in no time,” she went on. “I promise.”

Over her shoulder she called, “Toss me a rope,” and her eyes connected with Brendan’s. She hadn’t even heard him ride up. Were she not in a life-or-death struggle, she’d have laughed at the nonplussed look on his face. She saw the exact moment he realized the full import of the men taking instructions from her. A look of surprise passed over his face and he backed up, bumping into his temperamental gelding. She grinned, then went back to caring for her endangered stock. But her thoughts were split.

“You were to tell me when ya were ready to leave town,” he shouted.

The calf balked at the sharp sound of Brendan’s voice, and its skull connected with Helena’s chin. This was the first time she’d really understood the term “seeing stars.” She shook her head, managing to catch the rope as it left Hodges’s grip and sailed toward her.

Forcing her mind off Brendan’s glowering image, she stuffed the end of the rope through the thick mud and positioned it behind the poor baby’s front legs. After fishing the rope out on the other side, she tied a bowline knot to keep it from tightening or loosening. All that was left was to toss the end back to Hodges.

“Get ready. When I release the suction the mud has on the calf’s front legs, keep a steady pressure on the line till I can free the hindquarters. I’ll let you know when to back your roan up and pull us both free.”

Once she nodded, it took only a moment. When she felt the rope tighten, Helena curled her toes in her boots so they’d come along for the ride. She felt the deep suction pull at her and the calf, then resistance, more resistance, and then, almost like a cork pulled from a bottle, she and the calf were free. It wasn’t a minute later that the mother and baby were reunited, and silence reigned but for the sound of suckling. Hodges dismounted and retrieved his rope.

Wearing a rueful grin, Yates handed Helena her hat. “At least this isn’t covered in mud,” he said. Then the two men stood there, awaiting her instructions.

A glance at Brendan, who remained tight-lipped, his hands on his hips, made the decision for her. “I’m not sure that calf can make it to the barn on his own, and I want them close so we can watch for any problems over the next few days.” She grabbed Paint Box’s reins and mounted. “I’ll take the calf if you’ll hand him to me. No sense in anyone else getting wet and muddy.”

Yates, the bigger of the two hands, moved toward the calf, and laughed when he got close. “You were right, boss. He is a calf. How’d you know? He was halfway up his belly in that mud.”

Helena chuckled. “Only a hardheaded male would ignore his mama and get into a predicament like that.” She rode over to the cow and her baby, on the off chance the mother got riled. But typical of the gentle longhorns Helena ran on her spread, the mama just bawled a little in protest as Yates picked up her babe and stretched the little calf across Helena’s lap.

Hodges glanced uncertainly toward Brendan and said under his breath, “You want us to come along, or keep checking this section for any cows having calving troubles?”