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wanted to say howdy to the preacher first.”
    Marcus wanted to say, so do I , but instead muttered, “She better get in line.” Petilune smirked as if she got the joke.
    “I was wondering, Mr. Colton...”
    Distracted, Marcus peered out the door, trying to follow the slow procession of simpering women and the potential answer to many a mother’s prayers, knowing full well that dance card had filled long before he’d ever get a chance to test those waters.
    Damn Josh Foxglove for kicking me in the gonads and waking me up to possibilities.
    Speaking of...
    Petilune persisted. “...and you could sit with us...”
    Was that a question? Who was “us”?
    On auto-pilot, he replied, “Um, yeah, sure. That would be nice.” Shocked to find himself holding hands with the youngster, he followed meekly as she led him toward the rear of the open area. He groaned inwardly. The view from ten rows back wasn’t going to afford him the kind of unreserved ogling he’d planned on after seeing the young man and all his spiritual assets.
    You are so going to hell for this, Colton.
    “Pet, sweety. Why don’t we sit closer to the front? We can hear better if we’re closer, don’t you think?” He swallowed, hoping he didn’t sound too needy.
    Petilune shuffled her feet and blushed. “This’ll be better. Ma ain’t feeling so good today, so...”
    Feeling dense, Marcus objected, “But you can’t see anything this far back.”
    “I can sit in your lap.”
    Oh right, that’s all he needed. Him, his lap and a monster boner from star-gazing at a twenty-something hunk of angel dust. That’s just what an innocent girl needed. Good old Uncle Pervie Colton.
    Backing away, Marcus stuttered, “S-s-sit here and let me find you some cushions or something...” A kiddie seat, old phone books, a stack of over-turned kettles. Anything but his lap.
    As he was rifling through a storage bin in search of a booster seat, a voice behind him asked, “You looking for anything in particular?” It was Josh.
    It was embarrassing how much the sound of the man’s voice affected him. Excitement and dread mixed with a wave of lust and a really healthy dose of guilt turned his tongue thick and his throat dry.
    From the porch, the squeals of young girls shouting, “Uncle Josh, Uncle Josh! Ma said to find you,” was punctuated with small bodies hurtling through space and being scooped out of thin air into Josh’s arms. He laughed and balanced the children easily against his broad chest.
    “Guess I’ve been found.” To Marcus he said, “You know my favorite nieces in all the world.” He nodded to the ginger-haired girl with a mass of freckles on her nose and cheeks. “This here is Felicity. I call her Filly, but only if she gets all her chores done on time.”
    The youngster blushed and buried her face in her uncle’s neck. She looked to be around eight or so, petite and fragile, much like Josh’s sister Becca. But looks were deceiving. Becca was tough as nails, a single mom raising two girls, tending to her own home as well as helping Josh with the riding lessons.
    Josh jiggled the younger child. “And this one is Maudie. She’s planning on becoming reining champion on the circuit.” He winked at Marcus. “Or a princess.”
    Maudie piped up, “I’m five. Uncle Josh gave me a pony.” She gave Marcus a measured look and came to a decision. “You could come ride with me if you like.”
    Grinning, Marcus said, “Thank you, ma’am. I’d like that, but I’ll need for you to pick out a very special horse for me.” He had both Josh and Maudie’s undivided attention. “You see...” he paused, his voice falling to a whisper, “...I don’t ride so good, so I might need your help.”
    The white lie came easy. It wasn’t exactly a matter of inexperience, but he hadn’t ridden since his rodeo days nearly thirty years in the past. He gazed at Josh while the girls made plans for Uncle Marcus to come to the ranch for a riding lesson.
    Marcus