Linda Ford (11 page)

At God?

No. He would follow Rebecca’s example. He lifted his face and closed his eyes.
God in heaven, there’s a little girl who needs a home. A baby who needs parents. You can make a field of flowers bloom. I expect finding homes for these two dear children couldn’t be any harder.

Peace replaced anger. Faith replaced frustration. He didn’t know what the solution was for these children, but he would trust God to provide an answer.

“Would you care to see more?” He almost reached for her hand, then reminded himself it would be inappropriate and likely most unwelcome.

They returned to the house in a roundabout way until they reached the barn. He pointed out various things about the farm. “I prefer to call it a ranch.” He chuckled at the way he thought one word preferable to another. “I like the cows and horses. Don’t care much for farming, even though I know it’s necessary if only to raise feed for the animals.”

“I know nothing about either farming or ranching. What kind of animals are those?” She pointed toward the pasture.

He laughed. “You really are a city girl, aren’t you?”

She pressed her hand to her chest and gave him a pleading look. “You mustn’t mock me because I’m uninformed about such things.”

“That—” he pointed toward the herd “—my dear girl, is part of our very fine herd of cows.”

“Thank you, kind sir, for informing me. I may not always get it right, so I hope you’ll be patient with me.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of innocence.

Way too much innocence.

Suspicion narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t really that ignorant, are you?”

She widened her eyes. “But, sir, I know not what you mean.”

He groaned. “You can stop playing the dumb, city girl.”

Her eyes flashed with mischief and she pressed her lips together to hold back her laughter.

He shook his head. “You tricked me.”

She laughed merrily, a sweet tinkling sound.

He chuckled, pleased to hear her laugh, more pleased that she cared enough to play a joke on him.

She stopped laughing—almost—and wiped her eyes. “I think I got even with you for that nonsense about us girls sharing a room with your mother and your being forced to sleep on the floor.”

“Now I’m supposed to believe anything you say?”

“You simply have to remember not to judge me as a spoiled, city girl.”

“I’ll do my best to keep that in mind.” He smiled at her dancing expression.

The tabby barn cat came out at that moment and meowed for attention. He scratched her ears and stroked her back. “And how are your babies today?” He talked to the cat out of habit. Would Rebecca think him foolish? He straightened slowly, keeping his gaze focused on the barn.

“She has babies?”

“Four kittens.”

“Can I see them?”

He eyed her gunmetal-gray dress, her fine leather shoes. “They’re in the loft.”

She waited. When he didn’t say anything more, she sighed. “I get it. City girls don’t go to lofts.”

“I don’t know what city girls do or don’t do. But I can’t see you climbing to the loft in that pretty dress and those fancy shoes.”

She planted her fists on her hips and looked him up and down, her mouth pursed. “I don’t know anything about farm boys, but somehow I can’t see them caring for ailing parents and doing household chores.” A beat of silence. “And yet you do.” Her gaze challenged his opinion of her.

Her observation, and unspoken approval of what he did, made his heart beat a little stronger. “Very well. If you insist, I’ll take you to the kittens.” He escorted her through the barn doors, into the stall and pointed to the opening in the roof.

She eyed the opening and the ladder on the wall then lifted her skirts and stepped to the first rung. On each rung she had to fight her skirts, but she climbed upward.

He stood at the bottom, lest she fall. She made it to the top and grinned down at him. “You afraid to climb the ladder?”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Just checking. This is all new to me. For all I know, farm boys are afraid of lofts.”

He headed up the ladder.

“Or maybe,” she called, her voice full of mock fear, “the ladder isn’t strong enough for a man of your size.”

His limbs refused to work. Not because he wondered about the stability of the rungs beneath his feet, but because of her comment about his size. Did she admire it or find him big and clumsy? He forced himself upward until his feet were planted on the floor of the loft and he smiled at her. “I built the ladder to hold me.”

She nodded, suggesting approval.

His thoughts tangled. Approval of the sturdy ladder? Or his skill in building it? When she spoke about her home, he got the sense that the folks in her family hired people to do all the hands-on work. Did she admire him for making things himself?

From the way she suddenly lowered her eyes and clasped her hands to stop their fluttering, he allowed himself to hope she appreciated his abilities.

Then Ma’s warning and his own good sense reminded him that it didn’t matter what she thought of him.

He stepped away and went to the corner where Mrs. Cat had her kittens. Rebecca knelt at his side.

“Oh, how sweet. Can I touch them?”

“Of course.” He handed each of them to her. “Their eyes opened a few days ago.”

Two of the kittens were black, one was white with black spots and the fourth was a calico who would turn into a very pretty mother cat.

Rebecca rubbed her cheek against the fur of each kitten.

He enjoyed watching her far more than he had any right to.

“Have you named them?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Would you show them to Heidi and let her name them?”

“That’s a great idea.”

Mrs. Cat meowed and Rebecca put the kittens back in the box, then patted the mother cat. “You’re doing a very good job,” she told the cat, then pushed herself to her feet. “I should get back to my responsibilities.”

“Me, too. I’ll go down first.”

“You think I might fall?”

“Of course not. But just in case, I’ll be there to catch you.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him. The dust motes disappeared. The musty smell of old hay vanished. All that remained was the shimmering tension between them. Awareness. Caution. Regret. Useless wishes. All on his part. He didn’t know what she felt about this moment or about him.

One thing he knew for certain. None of what he felt could be acted on. He understood the impossible distance separating them. Even without that, his future meant caring for his parents, which effectively excluded anything else.

He swung down the ladder and waited for her to follow, then headed back to the house. “I’ll go to town tomorrow and oversee the construction.” He rattled on about the things he’d do.

She stopped walking and stared at him. “And where will I be?”

“Home. Here. Taking care of Gabriel and Heidi.”

“That’s your idea of working together? I agreed to help with your house and parents in exchange for your help. But I still need to supervise the orphanage. There are hundreds of little decisions I must make. Did you think you’d get me out here and then take over?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

She drew herself up tall, pushed her shoulders back and tucked in her chin. “Mr. Hayes, what do I have to do to convince you that I will not relinquish my responsibilities?” She whirled about and headed toward the house in a fine fury.

Her anger wasn’t unexpected, yet it brought answering annoyance from him. Why did she have to be so stubborn and prideful? He closed the distance between them and caught her arm. “What do you propose to do with Gabriel?”

“I’ll take him and Heidi with me.”

He grunted. By the way she raised her eyebrows, he knew that she considered it an inadequate way of communicating. But he didn’t care. He was through trying to get her to see reason. She’d find out for herself how difficult it would be to supervise the building,
and
watch Gabriel and Heidi,
and
take care of all the household chores.

She jerked away and continued her return to the house.

He followed on her heels. But two steps later, he slowed. He’d known she’d object to him taking control of the job they’d agreed to work together on. Yet he’d done so anyway.

As if he invited her anger.

Perhaps he did. Because it reminded him of their differences and enabled him to insulate his feelings behind those differences. So why did he feel as if he had swallowed scalding-hot water? If this was what he wanted, why did he have to restrain himself from rushing forward to apologize and beg her forgiveness?

How would he survive the war of reality and dreams that raged in his heart?

Chapter Ten

R
ebecca slipped into the house. She didn’t have to supervise the construction at this stage. And she understood he thought their agreement meant she would stay at the ranch. But she couldn’t stay here all the time. Pretending she knew how to run a household. Looking out the window, seeing that patch of wildflowers and recalling that tender moment when they stood side by side. When she’d wished he’d take her hand and say something sweet. Every minute spent here increased a longing in her heart to belong, to be part of something real.

How silly. Her life in New York was real. What would her mother say to her in this situation? But she couldn’t hear her mother’s voice.

Gabriel started to cry.

She prepared a bottle while Heidi changed the baby and bounced him. She fed the baby as usual, but he did not settle. She rocked him, but he cried all the louder.

“Can he still be hungry?” she asked. She offered him more, but he refused the bottle and screamed louder.

She jostled him, then walked about trying to calm him. All she knew to do was feed him again, but he refused the bottle.

“Want me to try?” Heidi asked.

Shouldn’t she be the one to calm Gabriel? But Rebecca sucked in her cheeks and shifted the baby to the young girl. Heidi walked and bounced and talked, but Gabriel kept crying, and after a few minutes Heidi handed him back to Rebecca.

Rebecca’s frustration mounted as Gabriel screamed. What was she doing wrong? Was she totally incompetent at everything but presiding over formal dinners?

Would Mrs. Hayes know? She went to the sitting room. “Mrs. Hayes, what am I doing wrong?”

The woman sighed, but Rebecca thought she detected a flicker of interest. “Babies usually have a fussy period. I guess this is his.”

A fussy period? That didn’t sound so bad. But as the baby continued to cry, Rebecca admitted it felt terrible. “What do I do?”

Mrs. Hayes held out her arms. “Give him to me. I’ll see if I can help.”

Rebecca handed her the baby. The woman placed his tummy on her round stomach and patted his back.

Gabriel stopped crying, but still fussed.

“My padding is useful for something,” Mrs. Hayes said.

Rebecca chuckled. “I think it’s more than that.”

“Estelle always had a way with babies,” Mr. Hayes said, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

Mrs. Hayes waved at him dismissively. “Oh, Louis, that was a long time ago.” But she smiled at her husband.

It was only the second time Rebecca had seen the woman smile, and it made her smile, too.

At that moment, Colton returned to the house, saw his mother with Gabriel perched on her stomach and grinned. “Now, Ma, don’t you be getting too fond of that little one. I’m set on finding his real parents.”

His mother waved away his comment.

A few minutes later, Mr. Hayes yawned. “I think I’ll head for bed.” He pushed to his feet, but before he could hobble out of the room, Colton was beside him, letting the man lean heavily on him.

Mrs. Hayes watched them depart. “Poor Louis has never recovered from his accident. He needs Colton’s help to do everything.”

Rebecca nodded.

“We’re very dependent on him. What with my old ticker not working the way it should and Louis all crippled up, we couldn’t get along without him.” Her words were brisk and her look full of warning.

Rebecca sat back. Was Mrs. Hayes suggesting that Rebecca might want to change things? That couldn’t be further from her goals. “I’m expected back in New York soon. I only want to see the orphanage built and the children safe before I go.”

She gave Mrs. Hayes a steady, unblinking look, hoping the woman understood she had no designs on her son.

A little later the baby fell asleep.

“You can take him.” Rebecca did so and the woman lumbered to her feet. “Think you can manage now?”

“I’ll manage just fine. Thanks for the help.”

The woman shuffled away.

Heidi yawned.

“Let’s go to bed,” Rebecca said. She prepared a bottle for the night and Heidi lifted the basket. They were about to leave the room when Colton returned.

“Are you going to bed, too?”

At his disappointment, she almost changed her mind, but his mother’s warning words still rang in her ears. Not that she needed such warning. Her own conscience had not been silent.
Do your job and go back to your real life in the city.
“It’s been a long day.”

“I guess it has.” He moved closer to touch the baby’s cheek.

A thousand butterflies fluttered up Rebecca’s veins and gathered in her heart. She could almost imagine him touching her cheek in the same gentle way.

She stepped out of his reach and, with a hurried good-night, went to the bedroom.

But she had barely fallen asleep when Gabriel started to cry. She rocked him. She fed him. She changed his diaper. She walked him.
Oh, please, little baby, stop crying
.

He finally slept—about the time dawn creaked over the horizon. She’d get only an hour of shut-eye before she had to get up.

Just before she fell asleep, she decided to stay at the ranch for the day. She might be able to nap while the baby slept. And watch that Mrs. Hayes didn’t fall again.

* * *

Colton tiptoed from his room. He’d heard Gabriel crying off and on throughout the night. Had Rebecca gotten any sleep? Maybe she’d be tired enough to stay home today.

Her insistence that she would supervise the construction scraped along his nerves. Did she think he needed her oversight?

He’d wanted her to stay home and take care of his parents and the children.

And greet him on his return, as she had yesterday, with a hot meal and a smile.

He groaned. He was building impossible dreams.

He stepped outside into a pink dawn and took in a deep breath. A beautiful day. He stretched, then headed to the barn to do his chores.

An hour later he returned to the house. Again the table was set and food was ready. Rebecca was definitely a fast learner. She glanced up at his entrance. Weariness etched her face. Dark shadows pooled under her eyes. She smiled, but her smile seemed rather weak, as if she lacked the energy to lift the corners of her mouth.

Ma and Pa sat at the table, waiting for him to join them. Heidi perched on her chair, her head tipped down to hide her face. Someday he’d like to see her hold her head high with pride and self-assurance. Recalling Rebecca’s words that the child would live in the orphanage or perhaps go back to New York, he wondered if he’d have the opportunity to be part of her healing.

“I heard Gabriel in the night,” he said.

Ma sighed heavily. “I heard him, too.”

Rebecca looked as if she’d been accused of deliberately disturbing them. “I did my best to keep him quiet.”

Colton reached out, wanting to touch her shoulder, pull her close, offer her comfort and assurance. Knowing he didn’t have the right, he dropped his hand to his side. “It’s not your fault that he cries.”

Ma grunted and Rebecca ducked her head.

He slanted his ma a scolding look, but she stared at Rebecca, her eyes tight with judgment.

“Son, sit down so we can eat,” Pa said.

Colton sat and bowed his head as Pa said grace.

No one spoke much as they ate. Colton’s thoughts churned with things he wanted to say but didn’t dare to or didn’t know how to. As much because he couldn’t figure out what he wanted as that he knew he couldn’t have what he wanted.

“I’ll clean up,” Rebecca said and carried the dishes to the kitchen.

He followed.

“I’ve decided not to go to town today after all,” she said as soon as they were alone.

She wouldn’t have surprised him more if she’d slapped him with a wet hand. He'd thought this was what he wanted, but now he already missed her. He’d go to town alone. Wouldn’t see her or the children until he returned. But what could he say?

She looked confused by his lack of approval. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I guess so.” He tried to convince himself it was. Seeing the water bucket empty, he grabbed it. “I’ll fill this.” And he dashed outside.

He jerked to a halt and stared at the pump. Something hung from the handle and he knew what it was without closing the distance. He looked around, but saw no one. Of course the culprit would be long gone or well hidden. Nevertheless, he scoured every inch of the ground around the pump and searched through the buildings and trees. He found nothing.

He veered to the barn, grabbed a shovel and stalked to the pump. He cut the dead rat from the handle and took it to the corner of the field to bury. All the while, his insides churned. Someone meant this as a warning. A threat. And it had something to do with the orphanage. And Rebecca. What would this person do next? She wasn’t safe here alone. He had to take her to town where he could keep an eye on her. Ensure her safety.

But how could he convince her?

She could be as stubborn as a mule. He grinned. But a lot prettier.

He would not take no for an answer. To prove it to himself, he hitched the horse to the buggy and drove to the house. His jaw set with determination, he strode into the house.

Rebecca sat by the table feeding Gabriel. It was hard to believe this sweet, content baby had been so fussy during the night. He studied the pair a moment, unable to stifle the longing that rushed up his throat. Heidi sat on the floor, fingering the bit of flannel blanket that covered the baby when he slept. What he wouldn’t do to be able to keep and shelter and protect this trio.

It was beyond his ability to do so permanently, but he could make sure that they were safe for today.

“I’ve decided you need to come to town with me.”

She jerked her head toward him and stared. “You’ve decided? Who gave you the right?” She was all royally righteous indignation. Miss Sterling of New York City didn’t take orders from anyone.

“That came out wrong,” he explained, backtracking. “I didn’t mean to order you around. But as you said, there will be decisions to make. If you were nearby to consult, the work wouldn’t have to be interrupted should we need your advice.”

Blue eyes full of skepticism considered him. No doubt she wondered why he’d changed his mind, but he would not tell her. No need for her to be alarmed as long as he was around to protect her. His arms ached to pull her and the children close.

She finally released him from her gaze. “I suppose I could go.”

His breath whooshed out. He wouldn’t have to argue.

A little later they headed out. As they drove to town, he kept his eyes open for any sign of trouble. But they arrived at Evans Grove without seeing anything that gave him cause for concern—a fact that did not ease his mind. Danger lurked out there somewhere, and he’d just as soon confront it as be constantly looking for it.

Both Rebecca and Heidi had been quiet on the trip and Gabriel had slept. He turned to Rebecca now. Her head bobbed. Poor woman was exhausted from being up all night. Maybe she could get a rest if she went where the baby could be watched. “Where can I leave you?”

She jerked up. “I’d like to see Charlotte.”

He helped her and Heidi down in front of Charlotte’s house. “I’ll be back if I need you.” Need, not want, he warned himself. “Otherwise, I’ll be back at the end of the day.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Heidi.” The child flashed him a tentative smile as she murmured goodbye.

He waved to Charlotte and Sasha. They must be anxious for Wyatt to return. His return would mean the arrival of the rescued orphans. As Rebecca often said, the children needed a welcoming place when they reached Evans Grove. He meant to do what he could to see they had that.

He arrived at the orphanage. The sound of hammers and saws filled the air. He counted four men at work. Ted Lang, an experienced carpenter, seemed to be in charge.

“Good to see you.” He included all the men in his greeting.

“No excuse for not getting this done now that we have the supplies,” Ted said.

According to the list of volunteers, there should have been ten men working, but Colton wasn’t about to complain. He understood there were many people who went out of their way to avoid dealing with Miss Ward. He immediately set to work. His insides smoothed as he nailed boards in place. The work was getting done and he had a hand in it.

Suddenly all hammering stopped and he straightened to see if something was wrong. The men all looked toward the street. He followed their gaze.

Rebecca watched them, her arms empty.

He glanced past her as she crossed until she stood staring at the wooden walls.

“I left Heidi and Gabriel with Charlotte.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say she might have stayed there, too. There wasn’t a lot she could do right now, but he knew if he said so she would get all fiery. Besides, he didn’t mind her company.

“It’s nice to see the work going ahead.” Her eyes glowed with approval. She thanked the men and they returned to their tasks.

Colton wondered if she included him in that approval.

She studied the piles of lumber and the men nailing boards to the walls. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her gaze came to him. “I’m grateful for all the help.”

“You don’t sound very certain of that.”

“Please don’t misunderstand.” Her mouth twisted. “But it makes me feel incompetent that I can’t manage to supervise the building on my own.”

“Rebecca, everyone needs help. That’s what family and community are all about. Working together. Balancing each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Learning and growing together.”

“I like the sound of that.” She smiled, filling his mind with a vision of her bent over the wildflowers. Her gaze slid past him. “We’ve got visitors,” she murmured.

He turned. Miss Ward steamed toward them, Pauline Evans and Curtis Brooks in her wake. Pauline, a regal woman in her late forties with thick auburn hair, had been acting as mayor since her husband died this past spring. Curtis, a man slightly older than the mayor, dressed and acted like the banker he was. He’d come from Newfield to oversee the loan his bank had given the town to enable the residents and businesses to rebuild after the flood. His choice to stay was a bone of contention with Pauline, who didn’t think they needed supervision. Colton had heard, though, that the pair worked well together on the selection committee to place Rebecca’s orphans with families.