Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Danica Favorite (warren buffett book recommendations .txt) 📖

was to be at the other end of Maddie’s tongue for more bootprints on the carpets.

The man stood, and the little girl buried her head further into his side. At this angle, Annabelle could see sloppy braids cascading down the girl’s back. Poor child.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Annabelle knelt in front of her. “My name’s Annabelle, and my father is the preacher. We’ll help with whatever you need.”

Round eyes with dark centers blinked at her. The little girl let loose of her hold on the man’s filthy pants enough for them to walk down the steps and around the path to the backyard. Knowing her father, he was puttering in the garden, hoping to coax their spindly plants into doing something they were never designed to do at this elevation and these temperatures.

But he had faith that if Jesus could feed the masses with His loaves and His fish, then their tiny plants could keep their community fed. Annabelle shook her head. Too bad that faith hadn’t yet panned out.

“Father?” Annabelle spied him plucking at a half-dead tomato plant.

His straw hat bobbed as he looked up at her. “Who’ve you got there?”

He didn’t wait for an answer but stood and started toward them, brushing his hands on his pants.

“Joseph Stone, sir. I need a moment of your time.” The man glanced at Annabelle like whatever he had to say wasn’t meant for a female’s delicate ears. There wasn’t much Annabelle’s delicate ears hadn’t heard. Such was the life of a preacher’s daughter in a mining town. Her family had come here to make the miners’ lives better, and that meant dwelling in the deepest muck found in the human heart.

But just as working in the mines had a way of prematurely aging a man, helping the miners had a way of tearing at a person’s heart. She wanted to love and care for people like this man and his little girl, but her heart felt like it had been wrung out so completely that there was nothing left to give. Surely if she left this place, her heart would finally have room to heal.

“I’ll go put on some tea.” She glanced at the man. “Or would you prefer coffee?”

He stared at her. “Nothing, thank you.”

No, he probably just wanted Father’s money. Some might say it was wrong of her to judge so quickly, but enough miners had come to their home that she no longer had to guess what they wanted.

Annabelle smiled at the girl, pulling on her heart’s last reserves. “Want to come help me in the kitchen? I baked a whole mess of cookies earlier, and if you don’t help me eat them, my father and I are going to have to do it ourselves. You don’t want us to get bellyaches, do you?”

The little girl smiled, which would have been a pretty sight if those baby teeth of hers weren’t almost all rotten. How could a man be so selfish in his pursuit of riches that he’d let this sweet thing have such a rough life? Not her business. As sweet as this little girl was, Annabelle couldn’t let her heart get too involved.

“Can I?” She looked up at her father with such hopeful eyes.

“Annabelle will take good care of her. She has a way with youngsters,” her father said quietly. He, too, had a heart for the children.

The man, Joseph, nodded. Annabelle held out her hand. “Come along now. We’ll get you washed up at the pump, then go inside for some treats.”

The little girl looked at Annabelle’s hand, then took it. “Nugget.”

“I beg your pardon?” Annabelle looked at her.

“My name is Nugget,” the girl said softly.

Annabelle suppressed a sigh. Her father was one of those. So enraptured with the idea of getting rich, he even named his child after the evil silver.

“That’s a nice name.” It wasn’t the girl’s fault. From the way her face lit up at Annabelle’s compliment, she’d probably gotten more than her share of teasing for such a ridiculous name.

Once she helped Nugget wash up, they went into the house.

The little girl looked around, then ran her hands along the lace tablecloth adorning their kitchen table. “This is pretty, like at Miss Betty’s place.”

What had they gotten themselves into? Miss Betty was one of the town’s notorious madams. Her father had helped plenty of women escape that profession. Still, Annabelle had never been inside one of those places, and for a child to know...was simply unfathomable.

How unfair that someone so young had seen the inside of a brothel. Worse, that if something wasn’t done to help her, the little girl probably would end up working there someday. One of the harsh realities Annabelle faced daily.

Which was why Annabelle had to get out of Leadville. Though her father would tell her she should not grow weary of doing good, she was weary. Weary of helping people like this little girl and her father only to have it end badly. Perhaps they helped some people, but these days, all Annabelle could recall were the great losses.

Annabelle put a kettle on the stove for tea, then got out a plate of cookies. “Do you like snickerdoodles? They were my late mother’s favorite recipe.”

“You don’t got no mama, neither?”

Annabelle closed her eyes, trying to push the memories away before looking at Nugget. “She died of a fever last winter.”

Her father’s faith hadn’t done them much good then, either. Their prayers hadn’t worked for her mother, or Susannah, or her brothers Peter, Mark and John, or anyone else for that matter. Half of their congregation had died from the same fever that had killed Catherine Lassiter. Even the two miners she’d worked so hard to nurse back to health. Though the fever hadn’t taken them. No, they’d lived only to find death in a drunken brawl in one of the saloons.

No wonder her heart was so weary.

But bitterness wouldn’t help this child, and she at least could offer the little girl kindness.

Annabelle gave Nugget a small