And Baby Makes Five (4 page)

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” Norma Sue Jenkins said, coming to a halt in front of him like a steamroller hitting a brick wall. She had on a pair of overalls stuffed into rubber boots and a straw hat on her head with a red bandanna wrapped around it as a hatband.

Cort had run into Norma Sue a couple of times at the feed store in the few days since his arrival in town. Both times she’d tried to start up a conversation with him, but he’d been blunt and unresponsive to her friendly overtures. Now he felt about as low as the dirt on the bottom of his boots. She beamed up at him with a genuine smile of welcome that split across her round face from ear to ear.

“Glad you could make it, son. We need all the draw we can get.”

“Draw?” Cort asked.

“You know, reasons for making some of these women want to move to our town.”

“Now, Norma,” Ms. Ledbetter said calmly. “Cort is new in town and he doesn’t fully understand the importance of our endeavor.”

“Well, that will soon change. Every cowboy needs a wife. You follow me and I’ll put you in a good spot between two nice ladies.”

“Ms. Led—” he started to say, but she patted him on the back.

“It’s Adela to my friends. Don’t let Norma scare you.”

“Ma’am, I just came to see the show. To see what the town has been up to.” He looked around the room skeptically. “Couldn’t you sit me somewhere out of the way?”

Norma Sue hooted with laughter, then grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to a table full of women. Grudgingly, Cort found himself sitting between two women who immediately started firing questions at him that he didn’t want to answer. He was trying to figure a way to get up and go home when his eye caught his neighbor walking out from a room at the back of the building.

In keeping with the hillbilly theme, she also had on overalls, and her hair was split down the middle and tied into two bushy tails on each side of her head.

She was cute.

In her hand she carried a large pitcher of tea. He couldn’t believe it—the woman was waiting tables! Didn’t she know she was pregnant?

What else would she do to endanger her baby? The woman was obviously a glutton for punishment. Weren’t women as far along as she was in their pregnancy supposed to be sitting down most of the day with their feet propped up? And here she was walking around as if everything was normal.

He watched her move among the crowd. She seemed more reserved than she’d been when he’d accosted her in his barn. She smiled and nodded and poured tea. But she wasn’t sassy and talkative as she’d been in his barn. He wondered if she was tired.

She’d almost made it to his table before she saw him. When she did, she plunked a hand to her hip. At first he thought she was going to turn and walk away. He had gotten a bit overbearing the night before. But with good reason.

“I see you made it through the night,” he said, deciding he’d start the conversation if she wouldn’t. He hoped she was feeling better.

Her features softened. “Yes, we made it. I should say thank you—”

“Not necessarily. I’m the one who threw you on the ground. Remember?”

“What?” the two women beside him both gasped.

“Threw her on the ground!” one exclaimed.

“No, the lasso was a good idea,” Lilly said hastily, her eyes skittering to the ladies then back to him. “Like I said last night, you might need to teach me to use one. You never know when one might come in handy.”

She smiled then, and Cort remembered why he’d thought of her all day. That smile was the prettiest he’d ever seen, but it was something about her eyes that drew him, something in them that said back off. As if she was used to being alone, as if she expected the very worst from people…or men.

The lights dimmed, cutting off his thoughts as a group of people moved out onto the stage. Lilly quickly filled tea glasses and moved out of the way. Cort decided it was just as well. He hadn’t come here tonight to think about the things he liked about his neighbor or the things about her that made him curious about her. He’d come to…well, he wasn’t certain why he’d come tonight. He’d just felt compelled to check it out.

L
illy sat on Samantha’s back and waited in the shadows. The dinner had been a big success. The cowboys had served up hot bowls of spicy chili and she’d watched the show from the back of the room. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Lacy had a great cast. She had cowboys who’d never stood in front of a crowd before, singing songs and reciting cowboy poetry as if they’d been doing it all their lives.

There were comical hillbilly skits, featuring Lacy, Esther Mae and her husband, Hank. They had people nearly crying they were laughing so hard. Esther wore a moth-eaten, pea-green housecoat that looked a hundred years old, her hair was half in, half out of pink curlers and she was carrying a flyswatter that she would swat Hank with every so often during his droll portrayal as a couch-potato husband. Lilly laughed thinking about Esther grinning at the audience every time she wanted a laugh. She had blacked out one of her front teeth, and she’d give this big grin that exposed the gap, then she’d swat Hank for an added laugh.

Lacy got hoots of laughter on her own playing their less-than-intelligent, husband-hunting daughter. They worked well together—they were having as much fun doing the skit as everyone was having watching them.

Then there was Clint, Lacy’s real-life fiancé, who also played her newfound love in the skit. It almost gave Lilly hope watching them singing love songs together—they couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but that made it all the more humorous.

“You’re next, Lilly. Hang on, now.”

Lilly was roused from her thoughts and looked down from where she sat on Samantha’s back. Bob Jacobs smiled up at her. Since starting the play, they had become good friends. He had the cutest dimples and a friendly but shy way about him. He would make someone—not her—a great husband. Maybe tonight’s show could help out with that.

“We don’t want anything happening to you tonight,” he added, checking the saddle to make certain it was tight. “Okay, hold on. I’ll take care of you.” He winked up at her.

Lilly smiled and settled herself securely on the sidesaddle, thankful that it helped her proportions angle more comfortably into the ride. She was a great rider; she’d been taught by the best. Leroy, the only man she’d ever been around much during her life, had taught her and she had no fear of a mishap. Everybody else was a bit apprehensive, but she’d be okay. Samantha would never intentionally do anything to harm her. Goodness, if Lilly hadn’t been pregnant she’d have been riding bareback.

“Lead the way, Bob. Good luck—I mean break a leg.” He grinned at her traditional theater jargon, pulled his costume hood over his head and took on the role of Joseph leading Mary toward Bethlehem.

The production inside had been in fun, but around the campfire were cameos of different Bible stories. Hers was a retelling of Jesus’ birth.

“Let’s go, Samantha,” she said, patting the little burro on the neck as she started taking slow cautious steps. She knew it was Sam’s nature to prance, but with Lilly on her back, the little dear was doing her bit to protect Lilly. It seemed to Lilly that Samantha understood the serious part they were playing in the drama. Samantha perked her long ears up and slapped her tail as if to say here we go, and then she followed Bob into the circle of light made by the large campfire.

In the crowd Lilly could see the faces of women and some children. Cowboys were interspersed in the gathering also. Friends had been made tonight by many of the singles, and Lilly was glad for them. The more social things that the town could host, the more likely it would grow. She was glad to be a part in helping with that goal.

Whether she believed there was any love out there for her or not.

Cort was standing to the side of the campfire. Roy Don, one of the few men Cort had met at the feed store and had actually let himself converse with, was playing the part of an old cowboy telling stories from the Bible. With each story he told someone dressed as that character stepped up and sang a song. It was entertaining and creative. Cort had to give them credit—the town had talent. Everyone gathered around the campfire seemed to really enjoy it. It was a nice touch of old-time authenticity to it and a great ending to a great night.

Despite his misgivings, he’d enjoyed the evening. He’d laughed so hard his gut was sore.

He surveyed the setup. They’d placed about forty hay bales around the camp for seating and had more stacked around with cowboy decorations hanging off them. He’d never seen so many lassos, lanterns, hay bales and hitching posts.

Someone had put in many hours of decorating for this night. When they decided to do something, they went all out.

Leaning against a porch post, Cort surveyed the crowd. He hadn’t seen his neighbor for a little while. To his relief she hadn’t done anything else after pouring the tea. The cowboys who weren’t in the play did all the serving of the food. Cort had relaxed. He didn’t know why he worried so much about the little sable-haired mother-to-be, but he did. Maybe the foolishness of the night before hadn’t been out of negligence toward her baby, but out of misguided loyalty toward her donkey.

When he saw her being led out into the circle of light balanced on Samantha’s back, he took back every nice thing he’d just been thinking.

The woman was due anytime, and she was sitting high up on a donkey. He hung his head in disgust.

It was all he could do not to stomp up there and lift her off her precarious perch. The fool woman ought to have her head examined. But when she started singing, he froze.

Her voice carried out across the crowd with a haunting melody. Cort took a step off the porch, drawn toward the sweet music.

It was a beautiful song. A beautiful voice.

It was a gentle whispery sound that floated over the audience in a poignant melody that pulled Cort to attention and took him on a journey of wonder. She sang of a mother, unsure of her future, uncertain of what God had in store for the child she carried, afraid of not raising him right, but believing that God had a plan and knowing she had two choices—trust God or turn Him away.

The song reminded Cort of how vulnerable Mary must have been back then. A mother-to-be with an unbelievable story. It amazed him how Lilly was able to incorporate all the angst and hope into one song. And all the while she sang, Samantha stood still, doing her part as the donkey that carried the special burden of God’s Son and His mother into Bethlehem to bring hope to all people.

It was a stirring cameo. Of all the wonderful things Cort had seen during the evening, this was the most important and most touching. This one scene brought the essence of life into perspective.

He now understood the significance of the scene to Lilly. Why she might have thought it vital enough to sit on the burro’s back as near term as she was. She did look at ease sitting there, even if she had to accommodate the roundness of her middle by leaning back. And Samantha had been perfect.

He was about to eat crow and relax when out of the corner of his eye he saw a kid toss something black into the fire.

Bang! Bang, bang!

Yells and screams broke out within seconds of the eruption of the firecrackers. When the explosions burst suddenly in rapid succession Samantha whirled and backed into the campfire flame, even with the grip Bob had on the lead rope.

Cort had already started forward to help Lilly when the fringe on Samantha’s tail caught fire.

The old girl yanked her head up in panic, kicked her hind legs out and bolted. Terror filled her wide eyes.

Cort snatched the nearest lasso off a hitching post and jumped into the path of the frenzied animal. Lilly was hanging on to the sidesaddle, but had nothing with which to control Samantha. Cort could almost imagine the panic she must be feeling. Bob had been knocked down in the fray and was trailing them, but losing ground.

The flames on Samantha’s tail were blazing. Cort knew he had to stop her before the fire reached her flesh and real pain began.

With a flick of his wrist Cort had the lasso spinning. He took a firm stance and let it fly just as Samantha whirled toward the alley and open range. Cort prayed his aim was true, and was rewarded when the cord settled over her head. He held on as the rope tightened.

Someone reached Samantha and threw a blanket over her tail to smother the fire just as Cort drew the rope taut. Lilly, miraculously, had managed to hold on during the fiasco.

Everything had happened within a few short moments, and now everyone was in motion, putting out the fire and trying to get Lilly off the donkey. Cort wrestled through the throng, reached up and lifted her from the burro’s back.

“Are you okay?”

Lilly laughed.

Laughed!

Her eyes were sparkling, dancing. “You are really good with that rope. Wow! Samantha? How’s Samantha? Man, that was some ride.”

What? Did the woman have no sense? No shame? Once more she’d endangered her child. Her defenseless little baby who might, and then again might not, be born into this world.

“That donkey is fine,” he growled. “You’re the one who needs her head examined. The fire only singed her tail. What were you thinking?”

Everyone around them went silent. The only sound was the cold wind whistling around the edge of the buildings. Cort didn’t care. Why, all of them were foolish if they saw nothing wrong with Lilly riding that stinkin’ donkey.

“I was thinking I had it under control. I was thinking that I knew how to ride—”

“Well, that was a wrong assumption.”

“Now, wait just a minute,” Bob interjected from where he was again holding Samantha’s lead rope. This time he had it wrapped around his hand tightly. “I’m the one to blame here. I was supposed to control Samantha. If you’re going to tear someone up, then tear into me.”

He looked remorseful standing there. And he should. He’d made a grave mistake. Cort scanned the group of men and couldn’t figure out why none of them had kept Lilly from getting on that donkey’s back.

“Lilly, I’m sorry,” Bob continued. “That song does it to me every time. I just forget about everything when you sing it, and I wasn’t holding on securely.”

“Bob, I’m a big girl.” She patted his arm. “And I can take care of myself on a donkey or a horse’s back. So relax.” She lifted her chin and locked eyes with Cort.

Cort seriously doubted that the statement had merit. “Control? You were barely hanging on to Samantha’s saddle horn. You could be on your way to the hospital right now. You’re about the most thickheaded woman I’ve ever met.”

Lilly rammed a hand through her ringlets and took a step toward him. Steam practically spewed from her ears. Good, Cort thought with satisfaction, she was mad. Someone needed to get through to her. Needed to make her realize that what she was carrying in her womb was precious cargo. That not everyone was so lucky.

“Thickheaded? Cort Wells, you are the most high-handed, overbearing man I have ever met. Have I, in any of our bizarre encounters, given you the slightest notion that I was in need of your guidance? I don’t think so.”

Cort watched anger play across her beautiful pale skin…. Oh, no, you don’t! He yanked his thoughts away from admiring her and back to the problem at hand. “You might not think it, but that doesn’t change anything.”

“Ohhh!” She glared at him and stomped her tiny foot. “This was such a good night, and now it has morphed into a bad dream. And you are—”

Lacy Brown stepped up beside Lilly, placing her hand on her arm to stop her from speaking. “Y’all ’bout ready to finish the play?”

Cort frowned and Lilly glowered at him, her flashing eyes alive with fiery indignation as Lacy proceeded to call everyone back to the campfire.

Cort figured she had a point. There was no sense in his continuing to make a scene in front of the entire town and its guests. There was, after all, no reason for him to make a scene period.

Lilly meant nothing to him.

He didn’t even know the woman. Why he’d gotten it into his lame brain that he had a right to tell her what she should and shouldn’t do was completely beyond him. As everyone else moved back to the campfire, he headed to his truck. He’d never been big on crowds and had had about as much fun as one man could stand in a single evening.

He needed to be out in the country where he could be alone.

Cort hadn’t been sure why he’d come to town, but Adela had been way off the mark when she’d said he was going to get a blessing from it.

Blessing? Cort couldn’t remember the last time God had granted him one of those.