18

By the time they’d wrapped up their shopping with much laughter and chatter, Grace felt she’d known the children a long time. Sarah complained of hunger pains, which was no surprise since the shopping had taken a while.

“Let’s find my pop and scurry on down to the café for lunch before we head back home. I think you children deserve it for humoring me with the shopping.”

“I don’t see him, Mrs. Bidwell,” Tom said.

“I saw him go outside a while ago,” Becky mentioned.

“Maybe he wanted some fresh air. He loves watching the Saturday crowd in the streets. We’ll find him,” Grace said confidently.

They gathered up their purchases but hadn’t gone far when they noticed Pop walking toward them with a woman. Grace was surprised. A timid look splattered across Owen’s face when he noticed Grace, as if he’d been caught stealing one of her hot biscuits before supper was on the table.

They stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Pop, we were just looking for you.”

“Well, here I am, then,” he stammered. “Uh . . . this is Stella Whitfield. We were sharing stories over a cup of coffee while you shopped. Stella, this is my daughter, Grace, and her newly acquired charges.”

Grace was mystified. Where had he met this woman? Why was Stella holding her father’s arm? “Hello, Mrs. Whitfield.”

Stella nodded to the children with a tiny smile, her hat brim bobbing. “It’s Miss Whitfield,” she emphasized without blinking an eye. “But please call me Stella.”

The children murmured a greeting and it was obvious they wanted to hurry along. Sarah and Tom were poking each other, and Becky was staring across the street at another young girl who had caught her eye.

“All right. I will, but you must call me Grace.” She turned to her father. “I thought I’d take us all to lunch at the Timberline today.”

Stella started to move away. “If you’ll excuse me, I must get home and back to my novel. I can’t wait to see how the story ends.”

“Please stay and dine with us,” Grace offered out of politeness, and her pop said, “Yes, why don’t you?”

Stella took two more steps, backing away. “No, thank you, though I appreciate the invitation.”

“Then perhaps you can come to the farm for lunch some time.” Owen shoved his hands in his pockets.

In spite of herself, Grace heard herself agreeing with him. “Yes, anytime.”

“Goodbye, children.” Stella beamed down at them.

“I hope to see you around soon,” Owen said.

“Me too. Bye now.” With a curt nod and her determined way of walking, she darted off.

Immediately, Grace looked at her father. “You’ve never mentioned Stella, Pop.” Grace knew she must sound annoyed, so she tried to speak low enough so the children walking behind them couldn’t hear.

“There’s not much to tell. I just met her on the street today.”

“Pop! You can’t be serious,” Grace sputtered as she stopped at the door of the café.

He screwed his mouth to one side, then finally said, “Close to it. I first saw her in the mercantile when I came in with Robert for the chicken coop supplies. Eli told me who she was.”

“Can we please eat now? I’m starving,” Sarah pleaded, tugging on Grace’s skirt.

“Yes, yes of course. Let’s go inside.” Tom, Becky, and Sarah filed past her, and Grace paused, looking at her father again. “I want to know more about Stella when we get home.”

Owen chuckled. “Don’t fret, daughter—you’re not responsible for me entirely.”

Robert shoved his hat back, wiping his brow with his large handkerchief. He glanced again up the road from where he was working on the fence railing for the third time. Grace had only been gone about three hours, but it seemed like all day. He was used to having her come to wherever he was working and either give him advice about the chore at hand—which he didn’t need—or spend her time with mindless chatter. But for some reason, he was missing that today.

It was hard to believe how quickly the children had taken to her and her to them. Almost like they belonged to her. She was what they needed—a motherly influence. While he should be grateful, he was concerned that the kids would get too used to her and then he’d be leaving. Lately, he’d given leaving a lot of thought. He wouldn’t leave right away, but after the potato crop was in and to the market. He couldn’t stay here forever, and from the looks of the visit from that businessman who was courting her, he wouldn’t be needed here at all in the very near future.

Then why was Grace always in his thoughts when she wasn’t around? Hadn’t he been burned by Ada? Though he’d fallen head over heels in love with her, in his heart, he thought she’d used him—knowing she was dying and needing to find someone to take her children. He’d been duped. Just like that. Women! Can’t trust them.

He muttered under his breath, and because he wasn’t watching what he was doing, he cut his hand on a nail that he was pulling off the fence. Yanking his handkerchief from his back pocket, he mopped away at the blood dripping down his hand. He heard the children’s voices before they appeared up the lane, so he quickly wrapped his hand tightly and hid it from view.

Grace stopped the wagon before driving past him to the house. “Did you miss us?” she cheerfully called out to him.

I certainly did! But Robert didn’t say it. “I’ve been too busy to notice your absence.”

His remark didn’t seem to faze her. “Why don’t you take a break and we’ll show you our purchases?”

“Me and Becky are gonna look so pretty on Monday!” Sarah said in excitement.

“All right, if you insist.” Robert laid aside his hammer.

Owen motioned for him to hop into the wagon. “May as well ride rather than walk.”

“If you insist,” Robert replied again. He reached up to grab the side of the wagon but forgot his injured hand and winced in pain.

“Son, what’s wrong?” Owen eyed him, while Grace’s head jerked around to see him step into the back of the wagon to sit with the children.

Robert shook his head. “Only a minor cut. It’s nothing to worry about.”

When they arrived at the house, everyone piled out of the wagon, and Tom assisted Owen to the front porch while Robert reached up and took Grace’s hands. She alighted in one swift motion, his hands holding her in his steady grasp. Her hair held the scent of fresh lilacs, and he found himself wanting to reach up and touch her honey-colored tresses. Instead, he took a step back.

Her eyes held his and in them he found warmth and concern.

“Are you certain your hand is okay? Do you want me to take a look at it?” she asked.

He suddenly had a hard time breathing and realized he was holding his breath. “I’m sure it’s okay. I nicked it on a nail while repairing the fence. That’s all.”

The children were eager to show him what Grace had purchased and interrupted, all trying to show him their new things at once.

“Look at my new boots. I had to put them on since Miss Grace made me throw my old ones out.” Tom grinned and stuck his foot out in front so Robert could admire them. He was standing up taller than before and clutched a brown parcel in his hands.

“Very nice, Tom.” Robert looked down at his brogans. My, the boy’s feet have grown. Why haven’t I noticed? “Looks like some sturdy boots that will last a while.” Robert eyed the package. “What’s that under your arm?”

“It’s new pants and a shirt. Miss Grace picked them out. Want me to open it up to show you?”

“No need. I’m sure they’re nice, and when you get a bath, you can put those on.” Robert looked over at Becky and Sarah, who were eager to show him their new dresses next. While he watched them take their dresses out of the brown paper wrapping, he realized that they were nothing more than little children, happy to have something new to wear and to have Grace and Owen looking on them fondly. It occurred to him that they’d all been lonely since they’d lost Ada. He’d been so busy thinking only of how Ada had deceived him, and taking it out on the children who were basically floundering as they coped with the loss of their mother. He suddenly felt like a huge disappointment to the children . . . his children.

Sarah tugged on his sleeve. “Aren’t they pretty, Papa?”

Robert came back to the present. “Yes, sweet Sarah. Both you and Becky have chosen pretty dresses. Since I know nothing of that sort of shopping, I’m glad Grace took you under her wing. I hope there will be more dresses in the near future.”

Owen cleared his throat, and Robert thought he saw tears in Grace’s eyes. “Why don’t we all go have a glass of cold milk? I bet you Grace has something sweet to go with it.” He motioned from his chair on the porch.

Grace piped up, “We could have the sugar cookies I saved if you haven’t already discovered them, Pop.”

Owen looked sheepishly at his daughter, and Robert wanted to laugh. “I found them all right, but I only took one. Honest.”

They all laughed and trooped inside for refreshments, and Robert felt at home for the first time in a long while. His day was ending on a positive note, but he still needed to tell Grace she’d need a new roof soon.