And Baby Makes Five (10 page)

They didn’t have to know he’d even been there.

T
he air was crispy cool as Lilly walked the length of her small stables. She felt more like herself with each new morning, and when she’d seen the sun peek through her curtains at sunrise she’d known it was time to try to get some chores done.

Samantha needed new straw, and that meant shoveling out the old. Lilly was actually looking forward to a little physical activity. She’d been housebound for the past few days, and the thought of using her muscles again thrilled her. There was more than enough neglected work to get her back in shape.

There was firewood to carry up closer to the house, a fence to fix—pronto—not to mention a leaky faucet that she’d been too large to get to before. Crawling under sinks when you were heavy with child was not a good thing to attempt. She knew, because she’d tried it.

She laughed, remembering squatting, or trying to squat, then maneuvering around to try to reach up and under the sink in the small space. In the end she’d lain flat on her back, arms and legs flared, as she let a cramp ease out of her side. She almost hadn’t gotten up from that little debacle.

But that was while pregnant. Normally she was handy with a hammer, a wrench and almost anything else that came her way. The grannies had taught her self-sufficiency. This little ranch had been supporting itself for the past fifty or so years.

Lilly paused in her climb up the ladder and listened to the baby monitor that sat on the work bench below her. The gentle rustle of her baby wafted to her. It was a fantastic sound.

The sound of her baby.

And
the sound of her baby sleeping.

She was starting to realize that not all babies slept through the night. Joshua had odd hours. Thirty minutes here, two hours there. Never, never more than two hours at a stretch. Joshua also wanted to eat all the time. Why, she had more bottles fixed and ready just to be able to keep up. Lilly had to adjust everything accordingly.

Life was not anywhere near what it had been—not that she was griping, because she wasn’t. She was simply still trying to figure things out.

Norma Sue had told her to sleep when Joshua slept in order to keep herself from getting worn out. But Lilly hadn’t quite figured that out yet. There were the tons of things that needed doing, and they weren’t going to get done if she was sleeping or rocking Joshua.

And since she loved rocking Joshua, she’d decided to give up the sleeping. So far she was making it okay. She didn’t need an abundance of sleep anyway. Things would be fine.

The fresh smell of hay filled her nostrils as she stepped gingerly off the ladder onto the wood loft. She was hurting just a little as she walked to the stacks of square hay bales. It didn’t take much to prove she’d lost a little strength in the past nine months. Instead of carrying the bale of hay, she dragged it to the opening above Samantha’s stall. With her pocketknife she sliced the twine, then reached for her pitchfork with her gloved hand.

Her movements were sure and easy. She’d been taught early to care for the horses that used to roam this land before Granny Gab sold them all. That had been a sad day for the Tipps household. Especially for Lilly. At ten years old she hadn’t understood why suddenly Granny Gab didn’t want to raise horses. Lilly shook off the hard memory and dug the fork into the sweet-smelling hay, broke it up, then tossed it down into the rack below her.

While she’d been pregnant she’d used the hay stored below in the extra stalls. But now that she could climb, she was trying to get things back to normal. The exertion felt good.

Oh, sure, she’d pay for it tomorrow, but it was worth it.

She’d worked up a good sweat in the cold shadow of the loft by the time she’d finally tossed enough hay below into the rack.

Where was Samantha anyway? The little munchkin had trotted off a little while ago, which was unusual. Normally when Lilly was outside Samantha stuck right by her side, snooping around, seeing what was going on.

Lilly walked over to the loft door and slid it back. The cold wind whipped through the opening, stinging her cheeks and making her eyes water. Whew, it was getting colder. Again.

Glancing out across the land, she could just make out the top of Cort Wells’s house. His place was only about a mile from her home. Using the dirt road it was more like two. As a kid she’d taken the road less traveled. She knew every nook and cranny between her place and Leroy’s old place. She’d been welcomed there then. She wondered about now, now that it was Cort’s home.

Poor man. He was probably glad to be rid of her. She hadn’t heard or seen anything from him since the night of Joshua’s birth. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that.

Lilly wondered if he thought of that night. Of the way he’d held her hand. Of the gentle words of encouragement he’d said to her. She just wondered. That was all.

He’d been her dream. Her hero.

Dragging her eyes away from Cort’s home, she scanned the acres around her house looking for Samantha.

Where was that long-eared little troublemaker? Leaning out the opening, Lilly held on to the door frame so she could see around the side of the barn to the house. A-hah! There she was, trotting out to the pasture, toward the firewood.

Toward the man stacking logs in his arms.

Cort—Cort Wells was here.

Lilly pulled back into the loft and scrambled for the ladder. A warm glow surged through her and a smile burst to her lips. Cort was here.

It was a good day.

Cort stacked the last pieces of wood into his arms and started for the house. The pile was too high, almost above his head, but he wanted to finish quickly. He’d stopped the truck at the edge of Lilly’s drive and left it there, not wanting to disturb Lilly and her baby.

All looked quiet at the house, so maybe mother and child were taking a nap. In the daylight Lilly’s house looked as if it hadn’t been changed in fifty years. The old farmhouse was whitewashed, with pale yellow shutters. There was a long porch running the length of the back of the house, with many chairs fashioned from tree branches. Colorful cushions made Cort think about sitting down and having a conversation with Lilly. Maybe watching the little boy playing nearby as he grew—

In your dreams, Wells. You came to check on Samantha and carry firewood. Remember.

Forcing the ill-gotten thoughts away, he stalked toward the house. This was his third trip, because she had indeed been low in her stash next to the house. That wouldn’t do in case there was another storm and the electricity went out again. She’d need the wood to stay warm.

He had gotten halfway to the house when Samantha trotted up to him. Not a stranger anymore, she nudged him with her nose until she found the pocket that held the carrots.

“Hey, Samantha. How’s it going, ole girl?” Cort would have scratched her between the ears, but his hands were full. The wood had shifted as he walked across the pasture, so he concentrated on his balancing act trying to keep the short logs from tumbling out of his arms and onto the ground.

Samantha wasn’t shy. She was, however, persistent. She nudged his pocket, then started nibbling at the edge of the carrot stalks that dangled from the slash pocket of his coat.

“Back off, Samantha. Mind your manners.”

He tried to twist around so she couldn’t get her bulging lips on the tempting treats, but she was too fast. She swished around, grasping a green stalk, then tugged. As Cort fanned his elbow out attempting to distract her, the logs tilted. He stopped, leaned to one side, bent one knee, righted, then bent the other when the wood shifted again. Samantha had no pity. She didn’t care that he was wrestling with his burden. Instead she maneuvered her mouth around until she got a good grasp of the carrot and coat at the same time. Cort glanced down. “No, Samantha!” he called again just as a ragged piece of wood toppled from the stack and whacked him on the forehead, bounced off his shoulder, then hit the ground, taking his hat with it.

He staggered, and a second log would have followed if a slender gloved hand hadn’t reached over his shoulder and caught it.

“My, my, my, don’t you live dangerously, Mr. Wells.”

His head was throbbing, but his heart was smiling. His lips were, too, because the sound of Lilly’s voice just did that to him.

He’d missed her. A fact he didn’t really want to admit.

He felt the carrot finally slip from his pocket and saw the plump rump of Samantha as she passed by him, trotting away with her newfound treasure sticking from her whiskered jaws. Her singed ball of a tail swung to and fro as she made her great escape. He started to shake his head then caught himself, not wanting another block of wood to fall. He needed to concentrate on keeping the pile steady.

Lilly laughed, reached down and scooped his hat off the ground. “First rule of Samantha survival—never have your hands full if you have food in your pockets. It’s a no-win situation.”

Cort laughed too, watching her carefully dust off his hat, then handle it gently with her gloved fingers as though not to harm it. She must have forgotten it was beyond help since Samantha had tried to eat it days ago.

“I’m beginning to understand that about Samantha,” he said. “We spent an interesting night together after you were carried away in the ambulance.”

“Oh, I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

Cort thought about the hours spent in the cold sleet coaxing the donkey into the trailer. “It wasn’t any trouble. I enjoyed getting to know the little beast. I think she’s human.”

Lilly’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight and her curls bounced beneath her red cap as she nodded agreement. He liked her red cap. It went with her cute red nose and cheeks. And her spunky personality.

“Not think. Samantha knows she’s human. She just hasn’t been able to convince God to give her a girlish figure so she can convince everyone else of her true identity. Here, let me straighten these up, or carry some of them.” With her free hand she reached to move the disorderly wood into place and started to take some off the top.

“I’ve got it,” Cort said, straightening and heading toward the house again. Lilly moved to walk beside him. He noticed she was nearly skipping to keep up with his long stride, so he eased up.

She smelled of hay and—what was that…baby powder? A unique combination.

“Thanks for rescuing me,” he said, grinning like a fool, liking the way her eyes twinkled in acknowledgment of the smile. Also really liking the scent of her.

“It was the least I could do. Anytime you need me, just call and I’ll be there to rescue you from here to eternity. And it would never be enough to pay you back for rescuing me. What are you doing here anyway?”

They had reached the house. Cort stooped and dropped the wood to the ground. Lilly’s snappy lilt tugged at him. He’d come to recognize it as uniquely hers. He’d know her voice if he was blindfolded standing in a crowd of a hundred women. She sounded as if she was smiling and couldn’t help it. It was nice.

Now that his hands were free, he raked one through his hair in an attempt to get it off his throbbing forehead. His fingers grazed a raw knot forming above his left eye. “I decided it was past time for me to help my neighbor. It’s supposed to get really cold again and I’d noticed when I brought Samantha home that your wood was getting low.”

“Oh, Cort, you’re hurt.”

Lilly was staring at his forehead with wide eyes. “Here, hold your hat so I can get a better look at this.”

He took the hat she shoved at him, then she yanked off her leather gloves. Letting them drop to the ground, she pushed the hair back off his forehead. Her hand was warm against his cold skin.

“It’s nothing,” he said, making no move to get away from her gentle touch. Her eyes shifted with concern as she studied the wound. This close he could see a slight darkness beneath her eyes, a tiredness lurking underneath the spark.

Removing her hands, she stepped away. “Follow me. I need to clean that out. You have a couple of splinters in there. And I need to check on Joshua.” She tucked her hands into her coat pockets.

The memory of her cozy house topped with the thought of seeing her with her son—it was a tempting picture better left alone. “I really need to get back home—”

“Men! You need my help and you’re going to get it. I’m not taking no for an answer.” With that she grabbed his arm and towed him toward the back door.

“You make men sound like a dirty word,” he said, offering no resistance as she opened the back door and led the way into the warm house. He knew he might regret this, but she seemed so intent on taking care of him that he couldn’t say no. It had been a long time since he’d felt the gentle touch of a woman. And he liked Lilly’s touch.

“You have to understand my upbringing.”

Cort helped Lilly remove her coat before shrugging out of his and hanging it on the rack beside hers. In her jeans and turtleneck sweater she was a charming picture with her girl-next-door beauty.

The girl next door to him.

“P
lease have a seat at the table. Help yourself to some coffee if you like. It’s fresh. I need to check on Joshua, and then I’ll grab my tweezers and peroxide.” She smiled at him before turning and heading down the hallway.

Instead of sitting, Cort stayed in the hall studying the array of pictures lining the long wall. It didn’t take but a few seconds to realize there were no men in any of the photos.

In the back of the house he could hear Lilly cooing and chatting with her baby. From the things she was saying he guessed she was changing a diaper. He continued to look at one picture after another of what looked to be six or seven women in various stages of their life. There were a few of Lilly growing up, and in some of them Samantha was standing beside her. No wonder their bond was so tight. They had a past together.

“Here we are,” Lilly called, stepping into the hallway.

Mother and child. Cort’s throat went dry watching them move toward him.

She had Joshua in her arms. He had on a cute little blue fuzzy thing that covered him from neck to toes. There was a blue dog appliquéd on his chest. A sharp stab of regret ripped through Cort’s heart and he forced it away.

“You’ve got a lot of pictures here.” His voice sounded gruff even to his ears as he nodded toward the wall. The only picture he was interested in was the real one standing in front of him. But that was a reality he’d never know.

Why had he come here? This was slow torture.

“Yes, I have mountains of photos and I talk to them way too much. Follow me into the kitchen and I’ll talk your head off while I yank those splinters out of your forehead.”

Cort laughed, and despite his trepidation followed her into the kitchen. “I’m not too certain if I should take you up on such a tempting offer. You sound as if you like inflicting pain a little too much. Did I do anything to make you mad?”

She laughed. “Aw, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit back and relax.” She winked at him over her shoulder before placing Joshua in a swinglike bassinet sitting in the corner, near enough to the heater to be warm. She was a gentle mother—clucking her tongue when he started to get fussy, then smiling when he settled down. She pushed a button and the swing started to rock.

“That’s a neat contraption you’ve got there.” Cort had been guilty of walking down rows of baby items once or twice, intrigued by the items available for bringing up babies nowadays. That was before his life had fallen apart and he realized he’d never have any use for such things. That didn’t stop him from admiring cool inventions.

“It was waiting for me when we came home from the hospital. Adela gave it to us. And you don’t know how many times it has saved my life. Some nights he just won’t sleep and I can put him in there and it rocks him to sleep immediately.”

Cort took a cup from the rack next to the coffeepot and filled it with the rich-smelling brew. “Would you like a cup?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said as she started to heat a bottle for Joshua.

“I’ll pour it, but you’ll have to fix it. I don’t think I can get all the additives and stirring right.”

She chuckled and removed the lid of the sugar bowl.

A few minutes later, warmed by the coffee and the heater, Cort settled back and watched Lilly prepare to work on the bump on his head.

“My grannies would have had to adjust their view of men if they’d met you.”

Her words startled him as much as her first touch.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She was biting her lip as she gently prodded his forehead with the point of the tweezers.

She was so close. Cort studied the way her dark lashes curled. Dark and long, they fluttered as she studied the wound intently. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and a tiny scar at the corner of her right eye.

“So tell me more about these grannies,” he said, needing a distraction from her. He was also curious about her unusual upbringing. “It sounds and looks, from the photos in there, like they really didn’t have much use for men.”

Her fingers paused and she grew very still. “Well,” she said, looking down at him, “let’s just say all of them had sour experiences with men…then decided to do without them. They never knew a hero like you. It’s sad, actually. I never knew one until you, either.”

She blushed, then averted her eyes and studied his forehead again. Her breath feathered down around him, engulfing him.

“Ow!” he exclaimed. Thinking about what she’d said, he’d forgotten to brace himself against the tug of the tweezers.

“Sorry,” she said, holding up a splinter a quarter of an inch long. “Wow, I told you…just look at this splinter! Look at the size of that bad boy.”

“Is part of my brain attached to the end of it?”

Lilly laughed. “That bad, huh? I’ll warn you before I yank the next one out. It doesn’t look as large.”

When she finally stepped away from him with not just two but three splinters, Cort was struggling. He could fight the longings that Lilly evoked in him from a distance. But with her standing so close to him, knowing all he had to do was reach out and wrap his arms around her—it was agony. At one point her lips were mere inches from his while she tried to get a good view of the last splinter.

He’d wanted nothing more than to lean into her and kiss her.

What would she think about that? he wondered. No doubt her grannies wouldn’t have liked it. He knew that for a fact. No matter how much she thought their opinion would have changed if they’d gotten to know him.

“Refill?” she asked, holding the coffeepot out to him.

“I really should be going.”

“Please, please stay for a few minutes. I have to feed Joshua. Please, we could light a fire and visit awhile.”

Cort needed to go. He needed to get out of there. But three pleases in a row tugged at him.

“I—I don’t usually get many visitors, and like you said, we are neighbors…but I understand.”

She placed the pot back on its pad. Torn by feelings he didn’t want to fight with, he watched her lift Joshua from the swing, then reach for the bottle she’d warmed in the microwave.

“I could stay for a few minutes.” The words surprised him and filled him with anticipation. There it was again.

Anticipation had become a common feeling that wrapped around him with every thought of Lilly.

And Joshua.

Lilly beamed. “Wonderful,” she quipped, and led the way into the cozy country living room. He moved to the fireplace, focusing on getting a fire going as Lilly settled into the rocker next to the window.

Cort chuckled when a big black nose flattened against the pane next to her.

Donkeys were natural guard animals. Many people used them to protect herds of cattle, sheep or goats from predators like coyotes. Cort wondered about Samantha. She seemed to have appointed herself as Lilly and Joshua’s protector. Though she was a bit small for a true protector.

“Was Samantha ever used as a guard animal?” Cort asked, moving to sit on the couch, watching Lilly cradle Joshua in her arms as he greedily sucked on the bottle of formula.

“No, she was too small. That’s why Leroy got her in the first place. She was smaller than most, and the breeder he bought her from had no use for her. So Leroy brought her home to help him break his bulls.”

“I can see that. The first time I saw a burro breaking a foal I was intrigued. I’ve never done it personally, but I know it works with cattle or colts.”

Lilly laughed, tapping her fingers on the pane, drawing Samantha’s eyeball to replace her nose. “The first time I saw it, it was hilarious. Docile old Samantha was harnessed to this brawny buck of a young bull and he didn’t want anything to do with learning manners. He’d head to water and Samantha would just stand there with that halter stretched as taut as could be. She’d look patiently at that bull and stand her ground. She had to drop-kick him a few times when he got overzealous. In the end he was the best-mannered bull Leroy had.”

“That explains a lot about her. She’s a good animal.”

“Nosy, spoiled and lovable. She and I have been together through so much.”

Cort couldn’t help but wonder what some of those things might have been.

“What happened to your husband? I know it’s none of my business, but for two people who’ve been thrown together so much over the past few weeks, we really don’t know a whole lot about each other.” And he wanted to know everything about Lilly.

For a moment she continued to study Joshua’s face, as if she hadn’t heard him. But he could tell she was simply trying to decide whether to tell or decline. One thing he’d learned about Lilly was she did only what she wanted to do.

“He left,” she said at last, looking up at the last moment to meet his gaze straight on. She gave a brief smile. A sad smile. “It wasn’t meant to be. It was just one of those things in life you wish so hard for…that when the chance comes your way, even though the odds are against you, you take a risk.”

Something in her voice had him wondering if he shouldn’t have started the conversation. But he couldn’t put his finger on what that was exactly. What did he say when he didn’t have anything positive to build someone up with?

“It really wasn’t all Jeff’s fault. A woman should ask the man she’s marrying if he wants children. I assumed way too much going into my marriage. The biggest assumption being what kind of man I was marrying.”

Cort had assumed too much going into his marriage, also.

“What about you, Cort? What brought you to Mule Hollow? And if I may be so bold, why are you not married with a houseful of kids?”

Her question slammed into him, surprised him. Stalling, he let out a soft breath. “Payback time. Okay, fair is fair,” he said. What did he care? “I came to Mule Hollow after my wife left me. I’m struggling to embrace the way my life has played out.”

Lilly studied him for a moment, compassion in her eyes. “That happens to the best of us. I’m having a hard time dealing with the hand I’ve been played, also. Of course, I’ve got Joshua and that makes me happier about everything. Being raised by my grannies way out here in the country with no kids my age made me into a lonely recluse. At one point I dreamed of having a houseful of children someday because of my loneliness.” She smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “But that was before—oh well, that’s not important. I have Joshua now. That’s all that counts, that I have a son. I’ve been blessed.”

A silence stretched between them. Cort tried to think of any blessings.

“Ramona left because I couldn’t give her children.” There, he’d said it. He’d spoken the words out loud for the first time.

Her eyes registered understanding. “That must have been hard. I’m sorry.”

He’d never told anyone reasons for the failure of his marriage. What had he expected Lilly to say? What would anyone say to something like that?

“Do you miss her?”

Did he? Still? “Yes, sometimes. I loved my wife. But…” Opening up to Lilly was alien territory for him. Normally a private person, he didn’t tell people his business. But Lilly was different. They were neighbors trying to become friends. He cleared his throat and started over. “I loved my wife. Like you, she’d always wanted a houseful of children.” What could he say—that he didn’t blame her? But he did. He would have stayed with Ramona no matter what. “I can’t blame her totally for leaving. But I thought she was made of stronger stuff. I thought she meant her vows when she said for better or worse.”

“Her betrayal still hurts.”

Cort stared out the window behind Lilly. “Yeah, it hurts. I was angry, still am. But I came to Mule Hollow to come to terms with everything. Maybe there was more to the marriage’s failure, more I could’ve done. God and I are struggling at the moment. I’m not certain what He wants from me. I’m not real excited about my life as it stands. But I’m here biding my time. Waiting.”

“Ramona wanted children. What about you?” Lilly asked.

Lilly believed in shooting straight. “Yes.” Regret knotted his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and met Lilly’s eyes. She looked so tired, more so with every passing minute, but there was compassion in her gaze. “I wanted kids with all my heart.” What choice would Lilly have made if she’d been in Ramona’s shoes? “We have to take what God lays out there for us. He knows the future, like you said. He has the plan. And obviously children aren’t in my future.”

“And why not?”

“I’m not planning on marrying again, for one. For two, what do I have to offer a woman? I can’t give her children.”

“You could adopt. Or maybe the woman will already have children. Who knows?” The encouraging lilt was back in Lilly’s voice.

It wasn’t as easy as she thought it was. He needed to change the subject.

“Okay, what about you? Do you plan on challenging this luck of the Tipps women? Are you going to remarry and give Joshua a daddy?”

She bit her lip. “I just had a baby. I don’t want to think about anything except Joshua right now. But…I’d have said a flat no if you’d asked me before he was born. Now, looking at him…every baby deserves a daddy.” She paused, studying Joshua. “I chose a real loser last time. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with the Tipps women. We’re terrible judges of character.” She looked at him and gave a halfhearted smile. “Anyway, like I said, I’ve just given birth and that’s all I want to think about right now. God’s going to have to change my mind, if it’s to be.”