From his vantage point in front of the depot, Isaac Wright had an unobstructed view of the tall woman, the skinny kid, and the unloading proceedings. Just what this cattle country needed, he thought when he saw their possessions. Another fence-building farmer. For a moment there, after the woman fell, he'd moved a step toward the stock car. When it appeared she wasn't hurt, he'd turned his attention back to the door of the Pullman car. Let her husband deal with the unloading. Isaac had enough problems of his own.

Problems. Like what to do with his nieces and nephew for the next month or two. He couldn't leave little Nellie and the twins very long at one time with his younger brother, Luke. No better than Luke cooked, they'd starve. And he couldn't haul around a toddler and two five-year-olds while he checked the cows he'd left on the winter range.

Used to be that Joshua and Mary watched over their own kids and took care of the animals kept near the main ranch house while he and Luke took care of the calving range cows. No more.

Isaac's eyes burned. Damn. It'd been almost three months since Joshua and Mary had died of influenza, and he still had to fight tears when he thought about them. And if missing them weren't bad enough, it looked as though he'd gone and made a mistake with Mary's family concerning the kids.

Three weeks ago, the snow finally had melted enough for him to get into Lariat and wire Mary's family with the sad news about Josh and Mary. He'd asked if someone in the family could come and help him temporarily with their kids.

It'd seemed like the thing to do. He just needed help until he could find a housekeeper.

But he'd returned to town yesterday for supplies, and there'd been an answering telegram waiting for him. It said one of Mary's unmarried sisters would be coming to take custody of the children as soon as arrangements could be made.

Like hell some stranger was taking "custody" of the kids!

He'd waited in town to meet the weekly train. If Mary's sister arrived today, it'd save him a trip next week. What he had to say to her would be to the point. Those kids were staying with him, not traipsing off with an old-maid aunt.

She didn't know the first thing about these kids; she'd never even laid eyes on them. And she damn sure didn't love them the way he did. He'd helped bring them into the world, walked his share of floor with them when they had tummyaches, and worried right along with their ma and pa about their safety. No one was taking them away from him now--or ever.

As he watched the door of the passenger car, it became obvious that he'd wasted his time staying in town overnight. No one alighted. Hang it. Now he'd have to come into town again next week to meet the train. He didn't have time for this.

He started to walk toward the general store when the racket from the unloading crew increased. The woman and the boy stood beside a crate, trying to calm some wildly barking dogs inside. Isaac looked around. Where the devil was her man?

Just then a crew member threw a large crate of chickens out of the stock car. The crate landed with a crunch, and a cackling uproar arose from the hens.

He'd seen enough. Putting a farmer's woman in her place was one thing. Homesteading in ranching country, she'd have to develop a thick skin and learn to ignore a lot. But abuse of helpless animals riled him. He turned back to intervene.

Before he'd covered ten of the thirty feet to her, the woman produced a handgun from somewhere inside her big, black coat and aimed it at the worker standing in the door of the stock car.

She spoke loudly and emphatically. "If you ever plan to father a child, you better lower my animals and the rest of my belongings with the utmost care."

The husky railroad man roared with laughter and brought his arms up to fling out a small cage.

Isaac dang near ducked himself when bullets whizzed by the man's head, sending chunks of the wooden railcar flying.

"The next one is between your legs," the woman promised the gaping man. "Now lower my things. Gently!"

Isaac concealed a smile. The old gal had grit. He'd just decided she didn't need his help when the rest of the train's crew came running. He stepped out in front of them.

"What's the problem here?" the engineer asked.

"It appears some of your men forgot how to do their work. The lady reminded them."

Isaac watched the engineer make a quick survey of the situation. By now, most of the twenty-two permanent residents of Lariat had gathered between the general store and the depot.

"You need any help, Isaac?" a man called.

Isaac? Amanda winced when she heard the name spoken behind her. Please, God, she prayed. Please let it be Isaac Smith or Isaac Jones. Please don't let it be Isaac Wright.

"Everything's fine," the cowboy named Isaac answered. Behind her, he spoke to the train's crew. "Get back on the train and get ready to move."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Wright," the engineer answered.

Oh, no! The cowboy was Isaac Wright. She'd probably made a wonderful impression on him, what with her fancy landing on her bottom and losing her temper and shooting at people. Drat! Double drat! She kept her eyes and her gun on the surly workers.

Silently and quickly, the crew finished unloading. The worker in the stock car prepared to jump to the ground to join his friends for the walk back to the caboose.

"Stay where you are." Amanda waved the gun in the direction of the two railroad men on the ground. "Get up there with him."

One man turned and snarled, "Who the--" He stopped in mid-sentence when a shot rang out and dust boiled at his feet.

"I told you to get in there. Now move!" She tipped her head toward the door of the stock car. "If it's good enough for paying customers like Joe Pete and me, it'll do for you."

After the men climbed into the car, Amanda spoke to Joe Pete. "Can you shut that door?"

He nodded and scurried to do as she asked.

Isaac stepped up to help the boy. Obviously, the woman had no idea how heavy the door was or she wouldn't have asked the kid to do a man's chore. After securing the door, Isaac stepped clear and signaled the engineer.

After the train began to pull away, the woman tucked her revolver back inside her coat and turned to Isaac. "Thank you. I never thought about the rest of the crew coming when I fired my gun." As she talked, she glanced at the small crowd of people who had come out to see the ruckus. "Are those your friends? Goodness, I must look a fright."

It did look as if she'd been ridden hard and put away wet. Her dusty black coat had straw sticking to the hem in several places. The black hat and veil that concealed most of her face might have been stylish at the beginning of the trip, but now it appeared for all the world as if someone had sat on it. Amused, he watched her brush ineffectually at the front of her coat.

"Well," she said, "nothing can be done about it now. You may as well introduce me."

Introduce her? What the devil did he look like? The official homesteaders' greeting committee? Not likely. He watched as she strode matter-of-factly toward the waiting people. The bossy old gal must have gone twenty feet before she realized he wasn't following.

She turned around and snapped, "For heaven's sake, Isaac. You don't expect me to introduce myself, do you?"

What the devil? How did she know his name? "I'd be plumb tickled to introduce you, ma'am." He used a sarcastic, put-on Western drawl. "But just for the record, who are you?"

She hesitated, then laughed. "I'm sorry. I knew who you were because I heard someone call to you. I forgot you wouldn't know me. I'm Amanda Erikson." She reached out to shake his hand. "I've come to take my sister's children off your hands."

Isaac had smiled when he first heard her bubbly laugh. Now he felt as if someone had clubbed him. "Amanda?" How could this gun-toting female be gentle Mary's sister? Hell, the woman must be eight or nine inches taller than his late sister-in-law. Mary was tiny and neat, a real lady. This woman didn't appear to have a ladylike bone in her entire body. "Amanda?" he repeated.

"Good heavens. Surely my sister told you sometime during the past six years that she had a sister named Amanda. Didn't you get my family's telegram?"

He managed to nod, but he couldn't quit staring. Good Lord! This woman with a half-breed boy and enough gear to start a homestead was here to get Josh and Mary's kids. This was the Amanda Mary had talked about all the time?

In spite of his surprise, her black attire reminded Isaac that she was in mourning for her sister, and he hadn't offered his condolences. He removed his hat. "I'm real sorry about Mary. I think it was influenza. We all got sick, but Mary and Josh didn't get better." Isaac swallowed the lump that seemed forever in his throat these days. "I did everything I could."

"I know that without your telling me, Isaac. When my sister wrote home, she always spoke highly of you."

Her voice had become soft and warm, like Mary's. She reached beneath the veil and brushed at her eyes. "I'm sorry about Joshua, too." She sniffed, then squared her shoulders and turned toward the waiting people. The softness was gone. "We'll talk about it later. Right now I'm going to smile and meet these fine folks."

Might as well save her the trouble. She wouldn't be here long enough to bother meeting anyone. "I have something to say to you first, Miss Erikson." Isaac dug in his shirt pocket. "I'm sorry I didn't know you were coming until I got to town yesterday. If I had, I'd have brought the kids to meet you, at least. But maybe this is best. They don't need any more turmoil than they got right now." He handed her an envelope. "Here's money for a ticket back to Denver. My nieces and nephew aren't leaving Lariat with you or anyone else."

Amanda warned herself to hold her temper. For the first time in three weeks, she was glad to be engaged to an over-cautious doctor. It had been her fiancé, Tom, who had suggested that Isaac might not be willing to part with the children.

Tom's suggestion had led Amanda to seek advice from a lawyer, who'd assured her that she would be in an excellent position to obtain custody of her late sister's children. Even if Isaac Wright chose to dispute her right to them, it would be obvious to any judge that Amanda would be the better choice as guardian. After all, she was engaged to a doctor--and she was a woman. What could a bachelor possibly know about child rearing?

Armed with that knowledge, Amanda looked up into Isaac's stormy gray eyes. "Let's get something straight, Mr. Wright. I take my orders from God and no one else. And I am going to raise my sister's children."

Judging from the fury in Isaac's eyes, she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and heaved her onto the next train through town. She rushed on. "However, I agree with you about the children not needing any more changes right now. So I've come prepared to stay a while. That way they can get used to me gradually." A partial truth. But in her letters home, Mary had warned her how Isaac felt about farmers. No sense fanning a flame by mentioning her intent to homestead--not yet, at least.

"It doesn't matter how long you stay or how used to you they get, the kids aren't leaving the Lazy W. I promised my brother on his deathbed that I'd see to his kids."

"Then you've made a promise you can't keep. Years ago, Mary and I agreed to care for each other's children if the situation ever arose."

"The kids stay right here in Lariat with me!"

The way he bellowed, everyone in town must be able to hear. She faced him with her hands on her hips. "Will you lower your voice? You'll have the whole country knowing our private business. That would be really good for the children."

Isaac glanced around, then stepped in front of her and positioned his back to the waiting crowd. "The kids stay right here in Lariat with me." He punctuated every word with a jab of his forefinger, stopping just short of Amanda's shoulder.

She forced herself not to flinch. In like manner, she punched at his shoulder and imitated his one-jab-per-word style. "Then I stay right here in Lariat with them!"

He tried to stare her down, but Amanda had the advantage. Though she could see out through her hat's black veil, he couldn't see in, and she knew it. "I'm not budging without the children, so you better get used to having me around." She turned to walk the remaining half block to the general store.

This woman is a pain in the patoot! Isaac thought, striding along beside her. She wasn't at all like Mary. Josh's Mary had been kind and sweet, soft and pliable, the way a woman should be. You wouldn't catch Mary jumping off a train, shooting at people, or refusing to listen to reason.

Another thing. Who was this dirty, scrawny, half-breed boy hovering in her shadow? "Joe Pete's your boy?" he asked.

"Joe Pete's an orphan. I found him in Cheyenne."

"You found him?" This he didn't believe. She found him. If that boy were part Sioux, his being here wouldn't sit right with the army, the Sioux, or a good many white civilians in the area. The bloody feuding over the nearby Black Hills had left too many permanent scars.

Amanda interrupted his worried thoughts. "I think I'll buy Joe Pete some clean clothes. Do you suppose the store will have pants and shirts to fit him?"

"Hold up, Miss Erikson. You can't go around keeping kids you find. I bet he's got family somewhere."

"He says not. He told me his father died two years ago and his mother died this winter."

"Maybe he'll tell me something more." He hated the way the boy cringed when he turned to talk to him. Hell, he wouldn't hurt a kid. But he needed some information. In a tone geared to let the child know he wanted straight answers, he asked, "What about it, boy? Do you have kin who'll be worrying about you?"

Amanda stepped between him and the trembling boy. "I'll thank you to mind your own business. Joe Pete's not your responsibility. I won't have you scaring him to death."

"I'm not scaring him. I'm talking to him."

"Then lower your voice and talk like a normal human being."

"I'll talk any way I want to talk, lady."

"Then you'll talk to yourself!"

She grabbed Joe Pete's hand. She'd about had it with men and their know-it-all attitude! Her skirts snapped around her ankles as she whipped along the track toward the store and the waiting people. She noted with wry satisfaction that Isaac had to hustle to catch up to her.

When they reached the crowd, the tallest, widest man she'd ever seen broke from the group.

Isaac stepped forward and made the introduction. "Jim Callahan, this is Amanda Erikson, Mary's sister. She's come for a short visit with the kids."

Amanda glanced at Isaac when he emphasized the word visit, but she held her tongue.

"Miss Erikson," he continued, "I want you to meet Jim Callahan. Jim runs the post office, livery, and mercantile here in Lariat. Jim's wife, Martha, was Mary's close friend."

Jim reached out a massive hand. "I'm sure sorry about Mary and Josh. Martha will be glad you're here. She's been worried sick about how Isaac and Luke will take care of three kids and run a ranch the size of the Lazy W. Luke's not much more than a kid himself."

Amanda allowed herself a smug glance at Isaac, but he didn't make eye contact and continued with the introductions.

After the third or fourth "so sorry about Mary and Josh," she quit trying to remember names. Instead, she concentrated on not losing her composure in front of everyone. She refused to cry in front of strangers. It took forever before Joe Pete and she were left with only Isaac and the Callahan couple.

Martha Callahan had stood aside as the others offered their condolences. After the last of the townspeople left, the middle-aged woman simply stepped close, folded her arms around Amanda, and patted her on the back. "Mary often told me how much she loved and missed you. I'm so glad you're here for her children."

Unexpectedly, the tears Amanda had been holding at bay came up by the bucket. She cried because she was hot and dirty, because she'd fallen on her bottom when she jumped out of the stock car, and because she had been shooting at men when she'd never before shot at anything other than empty bottles. She cried because Isaac Wright was an overbearing, pigheaded bully. And she cried because the person she loved most in the world had died, leaving behind three little children who would never remember what a wonderful, loving woman their mother had been.

Jim Callahan made a hasty excuse about needing to hitch the horses to Isaac's wagon. Seconds later, mumbling something about helping Jim, Isaac headed toward the livery after him.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Joe Pete stood beside her perhaps a minute more before sputtering, "Maybe I better go help, too." He bolted down the street, obviously more willing to take his chances with Isaac's gruffness than with her tears.

"That's one way to get rid of men." Amanda dried her eyes.

"Never mind about them. Come on to the kitchen and let me make you some tea," offered Martha.

"I really should go take care of my animals first."

"Why don't you let the menfolk take care of your livestock and rest yourself?"

"I always take care of my responsibilities." She dug out her handkerchief, wiped her nose, and straightened her hat before walking back to the depot.