22
Days slid into weeks, and farm life evolved into a smooth, daily rhythm for Grace. She loved taking care of Robert’s children—getting them off to school on time, then anxiously waiting for them to return at the end of the day. Her chores and time, which used to drag, simply flew. Most of all, she realized the void they filled in her life, and she loved the sound of their voices echoing through her home and the countryside. Her spirit felt lighter than it had since Victor’s passing.
“You certainly are smiling a whole lot lately,” Owen said.
“I am?” Grace answered as she set the table for supper. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Owen winked at her. “I doubt it has anything to do with Warren, even after you went sightseeing in the countryside and had dinner with him. Let me guess—you enjoy having those kids under our roof.”
Grace bent over the table to set out the forks and knives. “Warren seems nice enough, but I don’t know him very well yet. I suppose it’s true that I’m happier with the children living here. They’re so energetic and fun to talk with, and I can’t help but notice Tom has taken a special interest in you, Pop.”
“You think so? I like the kid too. Want me to call them to come eat now?”
“Yes. Everything is ready. I need to set the platter of ham on the table, and the bread is cool enough for me to slice now.”
Moments later, everyone was enjoying a generous portion of baked potatoes and ham and bread dripping with butter. Above the chatter, Robert glanced across the table to engage Grace with a frank look.
Grace took notice and held her fork steady, wondering why he was staring.
The next moment she found out why.
“I wanted to let you know that I have booked me and the children rooms at the boardinghouse on Main Street. We’ll be going tomorrow.”
Grace’s heart stilled and she cast a look at her father, who glanced at her with sympathy. “So soon, Robert? We don’t mind having you here. I wish you would reconsider. I know sleeping in the barn is getting old, but don’t forget we do have an extra room right here that the two of you can share.” She was sure disappointment showed in her face despite her attempt to hide it.
“That’s right. You could, Robert. With me living here you needn’t worry—you know—that it wouldn’t be proper,” Owen added.
“Please, Papa, can’t we stay?” Becky implored.
Robert turned to look at Becky, who was sitting next to Owen. “Becky, you were dying to get to town, remember?”
Becky grinned and tossed a look at Grace. “That was before I met Miss Grace.”
“Yes. She’s our angel.” Sarah nodded, licking the juice of the ham from her fingers. “We can’t leave. They might get lonely.”
“Besides, who’s going to help them with all the farm chores?” Tom wanted to know.
“I’m sorry, but I have already placed a tidy amount to hold us two rooms. It’s money that I can’t get back, so I’m afraid we are still going tomorrow. As to chores, I’m certain Grace would love for you to come help out any time you want.”
“But Bluebelle will miss me,” Sarah whined.
Grace listened to their exchange and sadness flooded over her. Of course she’d known they would leave eventually, but it somehow caught her off guard when he said it would be tomorrow. She had no ties to Robert or his children, and her mind couldn’t think of any reason they should stay, but her heart was telling her differently.
She rose, stepping over to Sarah, and slipped her arms about her small shoulders. “You are always welcome in my home anytime.” Sarah leaned out of her chair, grabbing on to Grace’s waist, and sniffed, blinking back her tears.
Grace turned to Tom and Becky. “That goes for all of you.”
Owen cleared his throat. “Why don’t we finish our meal while we can enjoy having you here with us?”
Robert nodded. “I’ll miss Grace’s cooking, even if it was for a short time,” he said, flashing her a genuine smile, and the children echoed his appraisal.
Grace felt her cheeks burn and took her seat. “Thank you all for the compliment.” She picked at the food on her plate. She had convinced herself that the children had been a gift of God to fill her lonely heart for now. It didn’t matter that it had only been a short time. People could form attachments quickly. Just look at Sarah. Once or twice, Robert caught her eye with a pensive glance, but she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Robert lifted the carpetbags out of the wagon and directed the children to follow. They scrambled down, looking wide-eyed about and watching the crowded street. He knew they hadn’t explored any further than the general store, and like all children, they were curious about the new surroundings that would become their home for the time being.
The four entered the foyer of the Whitfield Boarding House, which was not fancy, but homey. Robert tapped the bell on the counter and waited for assistance. From her perch on a nearby chair, a tortoiseshell cat lifted an eyelid, while another yellow tabby waltzed right up to Sarah and Becky, rubbing against their legs with a loud meow.
“Ooh, sweet kitty. Look, Papa, she likes us,” Becky squealed.
Robert stared down at the cat as Sarah squatted down to pet it. “It seems that way.”
“I’d rather have a dog,” Tom commented, drily.
“That’s not likely to happen while we live here—”
Heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway and a tall older lady appeared. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I was upstairs,” she said, a little breathless. “Let me guess—you are Robert. I’ve met your children.” She shoved her glasses farther up her nose. She had a pleasant smile and was soft-spoken.
“Yes, you are correct. I reserved two rooms for a few weeks.”
“Yes, of course. I’m glad to have you.” She turned her gaze to the girls. “I see you’ve met KatyKat. The one sleeping is Amelia, but it looks as though KatyKat has taken to both of you.”
“Me too—our mama would never let us have one,” Becky said with a sigh.
“I’m glad you do, because these cats enjoy children.” Stella turned to Robert. “If you’ll sign the register right here”—she indicated a bound notebook with guest signatures—“I’ll have you settled in no time. I believe my clerk has already collected your deposit?”
Robert scrawled his name on the ledger, then looked up. “Yes, that’s right.”
She stretched out her hand to him. “I don’t believe I introduced myself. I’m Stella Whitfield.”
“I’ve heard Owen speak of you,” he said and noticed a flush to her cheeks.
Stella’s handshake was firm, unlike most women he knew, but he wasn’t surprised. She was a large-boned woman, almost mannish, but her eyes reflected kindness, especially when she looked down at the children. “Come, children, I’ll take you upstairs to your room. We have a dining room where we serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner—which I’m sorry to say, you’ve missed tonight. Now, tell me all your names.”
She chattered on as the girls followed her up the stairs. Robert shrugged at Tom and picked up the bags and followed.
Robert was glad to see the girls were thrilled with their room, which had two single beds and lacy curtains on the windows. Stella impressed him with the way she spoke to them, making them feel comfortable. He looked about the room he shared with Tom and determined the accommodations were adequate. Tom immediately dropped down onto the bed and, without pulling back the covers, released a loud sigh and in only moments was fast asleep. It was no wonder, Robert thought. They had been on the road before he worked for Grace, and while the girls had shared a bed at Grace’s house, he and Tom had slept on a bed of straw. Robert was tempted to crawl into bed, clothes and all, but his boots must come off.
He opened a window partway to get some fresh air, pulled back the bed covers, slipped off everything but his longhandles, and scooted between the covers. It was hard to relax enough to close his eyes, so he lay there listening to the street noise. His mind wandered back to Grace, remembering the sad look on her face when they’d left, and he felt sorry for her. It surprised him that she didn’t want them to leave. He thought she’d be glad to be rid of all the extra work, but before they left, Owen had taken him aside.
“Please, let the children come to work with you from time to time. Grace has grown real fond of them,” he’d told Robert. Robert noted that Owen hadn’t included him in that fondness. But what did I expect? I made certain that she didn’t get too close. Just as well. He wouldn’t be good for her with all his doubts and his ready-made family, because he didn’t know if he could trust anyone again. Women could be fickle. Besides, she’d seen Warren twice that he knew of.
Robert had made sure the fertilizer was spread on the potatoes during the week, and now his back was killing him. What he wouldn’t give for the tender touch of a woman to rub his sore muscles after a long day of work. Finally, his eyelids grew heavy and he gave in to his fatigue.
Rain beating against the window near his bed woke Robert. He got up and stumbled to look out through sleepy eyes. The rain was steady, making the street a muddy mess with folks going to work and preparing for whatever the day held. The rain was exactly what they needed at the farm.
He glanced over at Tom still fast asleep, and he decided not to disturb him yet since it was Saturday. Grace had told him to go ahead and take his Saturday morning off this time while he got squared away in town with the children.
The smell of coffee brewing assailed his nostrils, so he slipped on his clothes, ran a comb through his hair, and went in search of breakfast.