Excerpt from Where Coyotes Howl by Sandra Dallas, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

He wasn't sure what to do but finally switched the reins to his left hand and shook her hand with his right, barely touching her fingers. "I know."

She waited, and when he didn't introduce himself she said, "I don't know your name."

"It's Charlie. Charlie Bacon."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Bacon."

He smiled. "You can call me Charlie."

She wouldn't do so. That was altogether too familiar, but she liked that he offered it. This was only her second week at the school, and she was trying to make a good impression on people in Wallace. It wouldn't do to call a man by his first name. "I suppose I had better go inside. I wouldn't want the students to ignore their spelling. You don't think they'd do that, do you?"

Charlie considered that, as if it had been a real question. He tried to think of a clever remark but could only reply, "I couldn't say."

The schoolhouse door was flung open then, and a young man yelled, "Fatback! I seen you through the window. What are you doing out here?"

Ellen frowned. "Fatback?"

He shrugged, embarrassed. "It doesn't mean anything. It's what I get called on account of my name is Bacon."

"I see."

"What are you doing out here?" the boy yelled again. "You come to check out the teacher?"

The cowboy's face turned red under the tan, because, of course, that was exactly the reason he was there. Mr. Gurley hadn't said a word about bringing Pike back with him. "I came to fetch you, boy," he lied. "Your pa doesn't want you getting into trouble on the way home."

"I don't make trouble."

Charlie swatted at Pike, who ducked. "He gives you any foolishness, you whip him," he told Ellen.

"Whip him?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's the only way to keep him in line." He grinned at the boy.

"How can I do that? He's five inches taller than I am."

"You just send for me. I'll do it."

"In a pig's eye," Pike said.

"Try me."

The boy considered that. He turned to Ellen. "He beat up Chauncey Tatum last week, after Chauncey insulted my dad. Near kilt him. Broke his arm in two places. I wouldn't go up against him if I was you."

Ellen laughed. She felt more comfortable with the boy there. "That's good advice, Pike. I'll keep it in mind."

Charlie scraped the toe of his boot in the dirt and said, "I didn't have any choice. There isn't a man who's worked for him who wouldn't go to hell for Mr. Gurley."

There was a commotion in the school; then a dozen students ran outside. "Did you finish copying your spelling words?" Ellen called. There was a chorus of yesses.

Several of the boys came over to admire Charlie's horse. "You going to let me ride Huckleberry one day, Fatback?" one asked.

"Nope."

"Can't nobody touch that horse. Charlie Bacon's the best rider there is. He can turn on a dime and give you a nickel back," Pike explained to Ellen. "I guess you'd kill anybody who did, wouldn't you?" he asked Charlie.

"Probably."

Ellen had raised her hand to pat the horse, but now she dropped it.

Charlie looked askance. "I didn't mean you."

"I wouldn't want to tempt you." Now she blushed, wondering if he thought she had been too familiar.

Pike had gone for his horse, which was among several tied to a railing in front of the schoolhouse. He mounted and rode up next to Charlie.

Charlie was reluctant to go, but there was no reason for him to stay. He touched the brim of his hat again. "I guess maybe I'll see you sometime."

Ellen didn't want him to leave. She said suddenly, "At the box supper? There's one here at the school on Saturday night. The school board thought it was a good idea. They arranged it so that I can get to know the parents—and others." She blushed and glanced over at where two children were going up and down on a teeter-totter, which was a board placed on a stump.

"Box supper?"

"You know, the women prepare suppers; then they're auctioned off. The money goes for schoolbooks."

Excerpted from Where Coyotes Howl by Sandra Dallas. Copyright © 2023 by Sandra Dallas. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.