10

“It’s going to be a spectacular spring day, Pop.” Grace had just returned from gathering eggs. She removed her bonnet and shawl, hanging them on a peg by the back door before refreshing his cup of coffee.

“Is that so? You’re in a great mood this morning.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? Spring always invigorates me. I think I’ll work on cleaning my wardrobe after we decide what Mr. Frasier needs to tackle this week.” She glanced down at the watch fob attached to her blouse with a frown. “It’s well past breakfast and he’s late this morning.”

“Mmm . . . He could start by replacing some of the chicken wire on the coop. I heard a coyote last night, and it’ll only be a matter of time before one ventures closer to the chicken coop for his dinner.”

“Then I’ll tell him to start there this morning,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I hope he hasn’t quit.”

“Don’t be silly—” A sharp rap at the back door interrupted Owen.

Grace set her cup on the table and hurried over to open the door. Robert stood there, twirling his hat in his hands.

“Sorry I’m late. I had a personal thing to take care of this morning.”

Grace stared into his serious face but didn’t ask questions. If it was personal, then it was up to him to share. “And here I was worried that you had quit.” She gave a gentle laugh and he quirked a brow.

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I’m enjoying it here. I thought I’d better find out what assignment you had in store for me this morning.”

“I was just telling Grace that we have a coyote on the prowl, and we need to secure the chicken coop better,” Owen said, leaning aside to see Robert at the door.

“Mornin’, Mr. Miller. I’ll get right on that.”

“Want to join us for a cup of coffee? We had our breakfast an hour ago,” Owen said.

“Uh, I guess I don’t have time,” he answered with a sheepish look at Grace.

Was he waiting for her approval? As an answer she reached over to the stove for the pot then took a cup from the cupboard. “You do now.”

———

Robert placed his hat on the table, then took a seat in a straight-back chair. “Thanks, Miss Bidwell.”

Grace took her seat again. “Please. Why don’t you call me Grace? Miss Bidwell sounds so formal and old.”

He was mildly surprised but replied, “Yes, ma’am. Please call me Robert. I haven’t been called Mr. Frasier since the bank foreclosed on me.”

She nodded her pretty head at him. “All right. I meant to invite you to our church that meets in town.”

“I’m not much of a churchgoer lately.”

“Oh.” Grace took a sip of coffee and gazed back at him over the rim of her cup.

Robert didn’t feel like explaining why and was glad she hadn’t pressed him further. He couldn’t imagine dragging the children to church until they were settled in a boardinghouse. They needed a real bath and clean clothes—Tom needed a haircut and so did he. “I’ll need some lumber and a roll of wire to get started on that coop.”

“I could ride into town with you, son, to buy a few supplies you might need—that is, if you would like some company,” Owen offered.

“That would be just fine with me. But are you feeling up to it?”

“I am if you can assist me into the buckboard. I can always wait in the wagon while you get the supplies. I want to take a ride on this beautiful day God has given me.”

“Of course I’ll help you. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.” Robert glanced over at Grace, whose face held clear surprise.

“Pop, you surprise me, but I’m glad you feel like getting out of the house today. I think it’ll be good for you to be outdoors in the fresh air.”

Robert downed the rest of his coffee. “Thanks for the coffee.” He turned to the older man. “I’ll hitch up the buckboard. Think you’ll be ready by then?”

“Absolutely. We’ll meet you on the front porch. I’ll just go grab my coat and hat.” Owen struggled to stand and Robert was instantly at his side with a helping hand until Grace came to his aid.

“I’ve got him. Go on ahead and bring the wagon around,” she said, then leaned closer and whispered, “Thank you.” He could feel her breath lightly on his ear and it tickled, making him feel uncomfortable. He took a step back and nodded okay.

Once in the barn, he hurriedly hitched the horse to the wagon and brought it around to the house before hopping down to assist Owen. “There you go,” Robert said with encouragement as Owen lifted his good leg onto the step and pulled with his arms. He landed in the seat, smiling broadly down at Robert.

“That’s good, Pop.” Grace was beaming at both of them. Robert was surprised at how her countenance had changed. She appeared so pleased that her father had decided on a trip to town, and his heart warmed watching the two of them interact.

———

Grace stood watching as they rumbled down the lane toward town, when an overwhelming feeling of loneliness swept through her, making her wish she’d invited herself along. Might as well go feed Bluebelle then start the laundry. Grace sighed. Nothing would get done standing here. Besides, it’s a good thing for the men to have some time without a woman hanging around all the time.

It felt good to be going somewhere. Owen sat back, watching Robert guide the horses toward Bozeman. A perfect spring day, and he had nothing to complain about—other than his limitations with his legs. But at least today, he would set aside his weakness and try to enjoy the ride. He looked over at Robert, who stared intently ahead, and wanted to know more about this quiet man who had stepped into the role of running the farm.

They rumbled along in quiet. Owen took in the bunchgrass and wildflowers blooming profusely and the birds twittering about. He’d forgotten how much he loved this valley. Finally, breaking the morning silence, Owen said, “Son, I appreciate you allowing me to come along today. It’s about the first time I’ve felt like getting out, to tell you the truth.”

“I can understand that. Glad you came along. As I said before, I don’t mind the company. I’m glad that the drive is just a few miles. Makes it real convenient to the farm.”

“That it does. Grace works herself to death most of the time, so I’m glad you came when you did. You were a mighty big help getting those potatoes in.”

“Speaking of your daughter—I couldn’t help but notice the farm is called Bidwell Farms and not Miller Farms. I guess I thought it was your place, not hers.”

“It’s her farm, but I came to live with her and her husband, Victor, after my wife died. Unfortunately, Victor died suddenly three years ago.” Owen paused, a lump in his throat from thinking about his son-in-law. He cleared his throat and continued, “Victor was a good man and a hard worker. Once he was gone, I was able to help out, but then I started having trouble with my legs, unfortunately for Grace.”

Robert turned, looking at him with a flash of surprise. “And for you as well. I had no idea she was widowed.”

“She doesn’t like to talk about it, and I can’t blame her. How about yourself? Young man like you should be married with a family by now.” The question seemed to unnerve Robert, and he fidgeted on the seat of the buckboard.

After a moment of silence, Robert answered, “To tell you the truth, I don’t like to talk about it much either. I was married briefly.”

Owen noticed his clenched jaw and the tenseness in his shoulders. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry—”

Robert chuckled, looking at him through steely eyes. “Well, I figure you did but I may as well tell you. My wife died suddenly as well. She was very sick.”

“Chalk it up to bad manners on my part then, but I’m truly sorry.”

“No hard feelings. Don’t worry none.”

“It’s so hard to lose someone you love.” He heard Robert harrumph. Maybe an arranged marriage? “Is that why you left your farm?”

“Partly. My wheat crop failed soon after she died, so no, not exactly. But I did lose the farm to the bank and had to find something fast.”

“I see.” Owen could tell that was about all Robert was willing to divulge. “Then I’m glad you showed up at Bidwell Farms.”

“Me too, Owen. Me too.”

———

The rest of the drive they were both lost in their own reverie. It was the second time Robert had been to town today. The first time was to take the children to school. Even though they had just a few weeks left of the school year, he knew it would give them something to do until he was established. Tom hadn’t wanted to go and only reluctantly gave in, but Becky and Sarah were eager to be with other children. He wished he’d been able to outfit them properly, but maybe by the next school year he could manage that.

He’d watched as Becky tried to comb through Sarah’s tight curly hair, finally giving up. He knew nothing of hairstyles, but he thought she looked rather cute with the ringlets falling about her shoulders. Too bad they didn’t have pretty bows for their hair.

Wait . . . Was he starting to get sappy about the kids? Surely not! He mustn’t let himself get that close to anyone again. He reminded himself that he was only looking out for their welfare and that’s where it stopped. Period.

When he’d inquired where the school was while they were leaving the café on Saturday, Robert was told to go to the log store of Squire Fitz. It was easy to locate this morning, and he soon found Samuel Anderson, the schoolteacher, who greeted them warmly. A tall, fastidious man, Samuel shook Robert’s hand with a firm grip, welcoming him to the community.

“I apologize for the lack of our town’s school facility herein, but hopefully the citizens will see the benefit of having a better location and perhaps pay for a school for the children to meet in someday,” he said, showing them to the back room of the log store.

“This is Tom, Becky, and Sarah,” Robert said. The children stood rigidly, feet planted to the floor, but the teacher quickly ushered them to a rough-hewn log seat with a table in the middle of the small classroom. The other children chattered when they walked by, but Mr. Anderson quickly restored order.

Robert started for the door. “I really must be going. I’m already late for work. Thank you, Mr. Anderson.” He shifted his gaze to Tom. “Tom, you know the way home. See you all back there later.” With that, he turned back toward the front of the store—and felt the burden of responsibility leave his shoulders for the time being.

Robert hoped they’d fit right in with the other children. It was about time they were doing something productive with their hours. He turned his thoughts back to Owen, who was talking as they drove into town and rumbled down Main Street.