28

It became quite evident by morning that Sarah had caught a cold from the river’s icy waters. Or at least that’s what Grace thought. She could’ve easily swallowed too much water that got into her lungs. Grace wondered if she should have the doctor check her out just in case.

Sarah sneezed again, then coughed and lay back on her pillow. “I’m not feelin’ too good, Miss Grace. I’m sorry that I caused so much trouble and you hurt your foot.”

Her pitiful look made Grace’s heart swell. “Sweet girl, things happen . . . sometimes for a reason. I’ll be fine in a couple of days and I’m sure you will too.” Grace walked gingerly on her sprained foot as she placed a pot of tea and toast next to the bed. “Perhaps you’ll feel better once you have something in your tummy.”

“Where’s Becky?” Sarah asked weakly.

“She’s washing dishes for me. She’ll be in to see you in a while. Here, try some tea. It’ll make your head feel less stuffy.”

“Okay.” The little girl took a sip from the teacup. “Mmm. I’m glad you put sugar in it for me. That’s the way I like it. My mama—” She abruptly stopped while a big tear rolled down her cheek. Grace had never seen Sarah cry. Bless her sweet heart. She always tried so hard to be tough because she felt she had to.

Grace sat on the edge of the bed and put her arm about Sarah’s thin shoulders. “It’s okay to be sad. Sometimes when we feel bad, emotions come to the surface when we least expect it.” Sarah leaned her head against Grace and warmth from her small body could be felt through her nightgown. Did she have a fever? Grace laid her hand on Sarah’s forehead. It felt warm, but she wasn’t too worried since a cold can bring on a fever.

“Would you like to try some toast?”

“All right. I’ll try. Miss Grace, you’re so sweet to me that sometimes I wish you could be my mama.”

Grace’s heart squeezed tightly in her chest. “What a sweet thing to say, Sarah. I’ll always be your friend, even if I’m not your mama.”

“You could be my mama if you married Rob—I mean, Papa,” she said matter-of-factly.

The door opened, and Becky scurried in and plopped down on the bed, taking Sarah’s hand. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m better now that my two favorite people—” she stopped to sneeze—“are here.”

Becky’s eyes flashed to Grace. “It’s just a little cold, Becky,” Grace reassured her. “Why don’t you read to Sarah while she finishes her tea and toast?” Grace picked up a book from the nightstand and handed it to Becky. “I’ll come back in a little while.”

Grace hobbled away and returned to her room, removing her robe and gown before changing into a simple yellow morning dress. Echoing in her head were Sarah’s words about wishing she were her mama. I do too, sweet Sarah. But that wasn’t to be, so she shoved those thoughts and longings away. She brushed her hair, then wound it into a tight chignon at the back of her neck. She had work to do but first she wanted to see what Robert thought about Sarah’s sniffles.

By the time she was back downstairs, she heard Owen’s and Robert’s voices coming from the kitchen. She entered the kitchen, hobbled over to her apron, and put it on. “Good morning, Pop, Robert.”

“Morning, Grace. How’s Sarah?” Robert stood as she came near the table. She noticed a small valise by his chair, which she figured contained fresh clothes for the girls.

“No worse for wear, I think, but she has a few sniffles.”

Robert cast a glance toward the upstairs. “I’ll go see for myself.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t need to be going up and down stairs. Why not sit and rest your foot?”

“As you wish. First door on your left is the girls’ room. Becky is with her now.”

Robert picked up the valise and started out, then turned around, pulling a small bag from his pocket and tossing it to her. “Try soaking your foot in this. It’s bath salts. It may help soreness and swelling.” Then he strode from the kitchen, leaving her and her dad.

“Well, what d’you know? Your first gift from Robert.” Owen chuckled.

“I wouldn’t call it a gift exactly, but I will put it to good use after I do a few chores. I’m worried that Sarah may have a little fever. Do you think I should send Robert for the doctor?”

Owen scratched his head. “I’m not sure. Let’s wait and see what Robert thinks once he sees her. How’s the foot feel?”

“Better, I believe. I’m sure resting it the remainder of the day and evening helped, and I’m really glad it was not any worse.”

It wasn’t long before Robert returned to the kitchen. “Sarah definitely has a cold, but I don’t believe it’s in her lungs so she doesn’t need a doctor—at least not yet. Thank you both for taking care of her.”

“Maybe this afternoon she could sit out on the porch in the sun. It’ll do her good,” Grace said, ready to pour him a cup of coffee. Robert held his hand up.

“None for me, thanks. I want to get all the chores done by lunchtime. The mercantile was really busy yesterday, so I can’t be late.”

Owen stood, taking a minute to get his legs. “None for me either. I’ll see what I can do to help out, Robert. By the way, where’s Tom?”

“Oh, he’s already mucking out the barn. He worked so hard yesterday at Eli’s, he was plumb tuckered out before bedtime.”

Owen nodded. “Work’s good for the lad. Keeps him outta trouble.” They started out the door.

“Tell Tom to stop in and say hello before he leaves,” Grace said.

“I’ll do that. Don’t forget to soak your foot, now.” Robert gave her a long look.

“Thanks for the salts. I intend to use them after lunch.” Grace wondered why he was staring at her like that. Maybe it was the old faded-yellow dress she was wearing. She hadn’t wanted to wear a nicer dress when she had gardening to do. That was at least something she could sit and take care of without being on her foot. It was such a clear, cloudless day, the kind that called to her to be outdoors as much as possible. In between times, she’d keep checking on Sarah.

Thirty minutes later, Grace looked up to see a carriage coming up the lane. Who could that be? Ginny? She struggled to a standing position, shaking her eyes from the bright sun’s rays. As the carriage drew closer, she could see that it was Stella and not Ginny. Grace opened the garden gate to greet her as she pulled up.

Stella stepped down from the carriage as quickly as she drove up. “I hope I’m not interrupting your morning, Grace. Robert told me about your injury and I thought I’d drop off dinner for you today,” she said while reaching into the back of the carriage seat to lift a large basket covered in a checkered cloth.

Grace removed her dirty garden gloves, stuffing them in her apron pocket. “That’s mighty nice of you, Stella, but you shouldn’t have. Becky’s been helping me.” She walked over to the carriage. “Can I carry anything?”

“Land sakes, no! It’s all right here in one basket. Is Owen around? I hope to get a chance to see him today.”

She was so tall that she towered over Grace—Grace had to look up to meet her eyes. “Yes, he’s out in the field with Robert, but I’ll ring the dinner bell. Believe me, they’ll come running once they know it’s time to eat.” Grace glanced at the watch pinned to her dress. “Oh my, how time flies. It’s almost dinnertime, isn’t it?”

They made their way to the house, and Grace rang the triangle that hung off the end of the porch. “Why don’t we take this inside to the kitchen?”

“I hope I brought enough. Robert’s children are here too, I understand.” Stella followed her inside.

“We’ll make it enough.” Grace stepped inside the foyer and called up the stairs for Becky. When Becky appeared at the top of the stairs, Grace told her to come down to eat and bring Sarah if she felt up to it.

“I’ll see, but I believe she’s asleep right now.” Becky hurried away, then returned, rushing down the stairs. “I didn’t want to wake her, Miss Grace.”

“That’s perfectly fine. She needs her rest,” Grace reassured her.

“Miss Stella, what are you doing here?” Becky asked, seeing her standing near the kitchen door.

“I brought dinner so Grace wouldn’t have to cook today. I hear you’ve been a big help to her.”

“I try to.” Becky rolled her eyes at Grace and they laughed. Then she sniffed. “It smells wonderful.”

Tom burst through the kitchen door. “What smells so good? Oh, hi, Miss Stella.” He gave her a quizzical look.

“I brought dinner today. It’s chicken pie and apple crisp,” Stella answered.

“Go wash up, Tom,” Grace ordered, then tousled his hair as he passed her. She spied Robert and her father slowly walking from the field. It was so good of Robert to take his time for her father’s sake, and she was glad to see their friendship and respect for each other growing.

“Let me help you set the table, then once I say hello to Owen, I’ll be on my way. I left Biddy, my housekeeper, in charge while I’m out.”

“Let me show you where things are,” Becky said, taking her by the hand. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve been reading to Sarah and it helps her to rest.”

“Is she sick?” Stella inquired, flashing a look at Grace.

“We think it’s only a cold, but I’m watching her closely.”

“Perhaps she’d like a visit from KatyKat this afternoon. If that’s all right with you.” Stella looked at Grace.

“I suppose it would be all right.” What harm could it bring? “I don’t want to put you out.”

“No trouble at all. KatyKat loves to take rides and she’s grown an attachment to Sarah, I’ve noticed. Now, let’s go ahead and set aside a plate of dinner for Sarah when she wakes up. You know how men can eat!” Stella laughed as she went about placing food on the table in her no-nonsense fashion.

Owen was surprised but happy that Stella had come bringing dinner, Grace noted, though she didn’t stay to eat with them, but promised to return with the cat to cheer up Sarah. Owen walked her out, then returned with a happy look on his face.

Grace had to admit that Stella was a nice lady and settled on the idea that whatever happened between her father and Stella could be a good thing. It could take some getting used to since no one could ever replace her mother, but Grace was adult enough to know that wasn’t what this was about.

By early afternoon, Tom and Robert were gone, and Sarah said she felt good enough to sit in the sun and wait for Stella. Since she had no fever, Grace allowed her to have a bit to eat with the sun’s warmth for healing—which Owen insisted aided in curing most anything. Grace figured if anyone would know, it would be her father.

Becky helped clean the dishes but later settled into an oversized wicker chair at the other end of the porch, her head stuck in a book, while Owen sat with Sarah to wait on Stella. Grace was feeling a little lazy herself while she elevated her foot, and stifled a yawn before Stella’s carriage came rumbling into the yard.

Owen stood to greet her and walked to the front steps waiting for her. In her arms, she carried a small box with holes. “Everyone looks so comfy and cozy this afternoon that I feel like I’m disturbing your peace.” Stella chuckled.

“You’re not interrupting. We were all enjoying the warm sun and the benefits of it.” Owen grinned broadly at her, and Grace couldn’t help but smile at the unspoken affection that passed privately between them. She wondered if they knew how obvious their mutual regard was.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for you, Miss Stella.” Sarah got up from her chaise lounge. “Is that KatyKat in the box?” Meows sounded as the cat scratched on the box.

“Yes, it is, and as you can tell, she’s anxious to be released.” Stella bent down to remove the lid, and Sarah reached in and lifted the cat out.

“Sweet KatyKat,” she murmured with a sniff and her thick-sounding voice from the head cold. “You didn’t like that dark box, did you?” KatyKat nuzzled Sarah’s cheek as she held her close, and she spoke soothingly to the cat who purred in contentment.

Becky got up and petted the cat too, then Sarah carried her back to the lounge chair to sit with her. “She’s such a sweet kitty,” Becky commented, “and she really likes you a lot, sister.”

“Can I get you some tea or coffee, Stella?” Grace asked as they watched the interaction between Sarah and the cat.

Stella glanced at Owen. “I wanted to have a word with Owen first if you don’t mind. And I’d love a cup of tea.”

Grace sobered. “Well, of course. I’ll go start—”

“But coffee for me, Grace.”

She nodded at her father. “Why don’t you two go sit in the parlor where no one will bother you?”

“Good idea. Come on, Stella. We can talk undisturbed there.”

As the two walked off, Grace wondered what was so important that Stella needed time alone with her father. Surely, they hadn’t formed that kind of relationship yet, had they?