.

while he stepped into the utility room.

      “Sit there on one of the kitchen chairs,” Melanie called over her shoulder.

      Scott stepped into the kitchen and sat cradling Shelley on his lap. The girl continued to sob while Melanie hurried into the bathroom, retrieved the hydrogen peroxide, salve and bandages, then returned and knelt beside the girl’s injured legs.

      Shelley buried her tear-streaked face against her father’s chest. He rubbed her back, soothing her in low tones. Anne stood beside the door in her blue jeans and work boots, looking helpless.

      Melanie smiled at the injured girl. “You’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get this taken care of and you’ll be good as new. Did you like the dogie lambs?”

      Shelley gave an almost inaudible nod. “Y-yes.”

      “Did Anne show you how to feed them?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Did they almost knock you off your feet with their exuberance?” Melanie kept up a steady stream of questions, trying to take Shelley’s mind off her injuries. It helped some as the girl’s tears faded to breathless hiccups.

      While she cleansed the wounds, Melanie couldn’t help glancing up at Scott. She wasn’t used to tender displays of affection from a man. She’d grown up at Opal Ranch with a kind but gruff father whom she’d only seen cry the day they buried her mother five years earlier. Dad had died shortly afterward, leaving her and Aaron to run the ranch alone.

      Although he’d worked hard when he was sober, Aaron never offered her any comfort, not even when she went into labor with Anne. He hadn’t cared for much except buying more booze. She sorely missed her mother’s compassion and gentle faith.