33

Owen lingered over his morning coffee. Was it just his imagination, or were his legs somewhat stronger? He still had weakness and fatigue, but some days he was a little more stable when he walked. Either way, he and Stella were going to go back to the hot springs. He might just make this a routine—as long as he thought it was making a difference.

“Hello, Mr. Miller, are you here?” Tom called from the front door. “Grace said I’d find you in the parlor. Should I come back later?”

Owen set his cup down. “Tom, come on in. I’m just relaxing and ruminating.”

“Good. I can’t stay but a minute or Robert will come looking for me. I have to muck the barn this morning, but I wanted to give you something I made.” He brought his hand around from his back, holding out a cane in front of him. “I hope you like it.”

Owen took the cane with surprise. “You made this?” He ran his hand over the smooth carving of wood with a crook at its top for his hand. “I’m mighty impressed, and of course, I’ll get a lot of use out of it. Let me try it out.”

It took a moment for him to stand after sitting so long, but Tom immediately assisted him from the chair. The cane was sturdy and the smooth, hooked neck fit nicely in his palm. Owen walked across the room, leaning on it for support. Tom’s broad smile told him that he was very pleased with his workmanship.

“Tom, this is just about the nicest thing anyone has done for me.” Owen paused next to him, then gave the youth a bear hug. “I wasn’t aware that you liked carving, and you did a great job, my boy.”

Tom’s face flushed and he shrugged his scrawny shoulders. “Aw, it started out with whittling a long time ago to pass the time, then I got the idea to try something larger and I thought you could use a cane. I read somewhere that you should use it on the side that is the strongest. I think that’s what you did.”

Owen stared at him. “Right you are. Makes sense to me. You should consider apprenticing to a wood-carver.”

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s just a hobby to pass the time. I think I want to be a doctor. Miss Stella loaned me a couple of medical books, and I like reading about all that stuff.”

“Is that so? That’s a noble occupation—but remember it’s a lot of hard work.”

“That’s exactly what Miss Stella said, but she also said anything worth pursuing will involve hard work.”

“Smart lady, that Miss Stella. Where are your sisters this morning? In town?”

“No, they came this morning to help Miss Grace bake cookies.” Tom started for the door. “I gotta run or I’ll get yelled at.”

Owen lifted the cane with a wave as he left. A deep warm feeling flooded him. He might be the grandson I always hoped for.

A week later, dressed in her pop’s overalls, Grace stirred the buttercup-colored paint in the pail until it was smooth. “Ginny, this room will be transformed in a few hours between me and Becky.” Ginny sat knitting nearby with her feet propped up, while Sarah held a ball of yarn.

Becky giggled. “I hope I can paint. I’ve never tried it before,” she said. Becky’s hair was tied up in a kerchief, with a strand or two peeking out from beneath. She wore a pair of Tom’s pants and his old shirt. Grace smiled, wondering how despite all she’d been through, Becky had turned into such a sweet, eager, young girl, always willing to help when asked, no matter what the task.

“You’ll do just fine, just watch how I do it.” Grace carried the pail over to the ladder with her paintbrush to start. “I’ll start at the top, so you aren’t on the ladder. You can start lower nearest the door.”

“I wish I could help,” Sarah grumbled.

“But you are helping, Sarah. Sitting here with me when I’m not allowed to help is a help. Besides, you’ve helped by carrying in all the paint supplies.” Ginny unwound the ball of yarn that Sarah held. “Soon, this will become my baby’s blanket.”

Sarah uttered, “Oh, can I please hold her?”

Ginny giggled. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s a girl or boy, but yes, you may if you’re very careful.”

Sarah’s head bobbed. “Oh, yes, ma’am. I’ll be extra careful.”

Grace glanced down from the top of the ladder, glad that Sarah was there too. The children needed a sense of family, and Grace considered Ginny like a sister.

A half hour later, the two women stood back on the other side of the room, surveying the wall. Ginny put her hands together. “It’s perfect. I wanted it to look like warm sunshine, and I think Eli helped me find just the right shade.”

“He did. I wish I could paint faster, but thankfully, this isn’t a large room. I have supper to cook, but I can come back for a few hours tomorrow, if you can, Becky.”

“I’ll ask Papa, but I think he’ll say yes.”

“Girls, I really appreciated your help today. We’ll put things away while you go to the kitchen. Nell has some cookies and milk waiting.”

The girls whooped, darting from the room to see who could get there first.

Grace cleaned the paintbrushes and set them aside for the next day, while Ginny waddled over and put a lid on the paint pail. “Thank you for taking over for me today. Frank is so busy with work, he couldn’t find time to paint.”

Grace shot a glance at her friend. “Do I detect loneliness in your voice?”

Ginny sighed, then looked at her. “Not really. It’s more than that. Frank is worried about something at work but doesn’t want to bother me.”

“That makes sense. He wants you to concentrate on taking care of yourself, and I agree.”

Ginny’s brow furrowed. “I guess. Do you have time for a cup of tea?”

“One cup, but then I really do need to leave,” she replied.

Over tea, Ginny talked about her excitement about the baby. Then she asked, “Are you feeling more settled about your father and Stella? Last time we talked about it you had your doubts.”

Setting her cup in the saucer, Grace was thoughtful for a moment before answering. “You know, I was wrong about her. She’s the genuine thing, and I believe she really cares for my father. If it hadn’t been for her, we’d still be wondering what is wrong with him.”

“I’m happy to hear that for him, and for you as well. Which leads me to ask, now that Warren is out of the picture, do you think there’s a chance for Robert?” Ginny arched a brow when she looked at her.

“You do like the details, don’t you?” Grace giggled.

Ginny laughed. “I do. Let’s just say that I believe in romance, and I believe there is something there.”

She shook her head. “Ginny, you are a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe so, but one thing I learned from the War between the States was that you mustn’t take anything for granted, or ignore what’s right under your nose. And I’ve been praying for you.”

“Okay. If you must know, Robert and I have cleared the air, and we’re going to see where it leads.”

Ginny clapped her hands together. “I knew it! Tell me all about it.”

The afternoon was slowly winding down without a customer, so Eli and Robert spent time going over the status on back orders and current ones. “I have no idea where those two orders went, Robert, but I can tell you this—they didn’t make it to Bozeman.” He pulled out a bill of lading from the supplier that had come in the mail as requested. Sure enough, there was Eli’s signature. Eli fumed. “Someone forged my signature. I don’t have a leg to stand on, and now I owe for the items. I simply don’t have extra cash floating around to pay for those loads.”

Robert tapped the pencil against the paper. “Is it possible the clerk that left signed one day while you were gone?”

“No, I never leave the store when I know shipments will be arriving and I never gave him that privilege. Besides, I can’t recall any time I’ve left the store, except the time you told me to send a wire to my supplier.”

“You’re too trusting, Eli. Towns are sprouting up everywhere. You have miners in Alder Gulch, and Gold Creek. I’ve been thinking—if your goods have to arrive by steamboat coming up the Missouri River to Ft. Benton, along the Overland Trail, it’s an open opportunity for road agents or any dishonest person to hijack a wagonload of goods.”

Eli rubbed his chin back and forth. “I reckon you’re right.”

“I’d let Sheriff Mendenhall know about your next shipments just in case they arrive.”

“Yep. I’ll stop in and have a talk with John after I close up here.”

“Good idea. I better go see how Tom’s coming along restocking those canned goods.”

“Why don’t you two go on home and I’ll close up here?” Eli suggested.

Robert looked up at the large clock. “I hadn’t noticed it’s quitting time. See you tomorrow then.”

Striding out the door, Robert and Tom nearly walked straight into Grace and the girls, who were making their way through the folks on the sidewalk.

“Whoa! What’s the big hurry?” Robert steadied Grace by her arms.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to walk Becky and Sarah back to the boardinghouse before I left for home.” Grace straightened her sleeves as Robert let go of her arms.

“We’ll walk with you. Did you get the painting done?” Robert fell into step with her, and the kids raced on ahead, betting who’d get there first.

She laughed. “Hardly. I’m not a fast painter, nor very good, but I promised to come back in the morning for a while. For now I must get home. How was your day?”

Robert stared down at her. Her laughter, rich and velvety, eased his mind. “Same as always, busy.”

“Busy is good. It makes the day go faster.”

Robert cleared his throat for what he was about to ask. “So do you think I could come by and see you tomorrow afternoon? We could take that ride and see all the wildflowers blooming on the mountainside.” He held his breath while he waited for her answer.

She paused on the sidewalk to look up at him. He hadn’t noticed before how many freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. It made her look cute and fresh like the buttercups he’d spotted in Stella’s backyard.

“I look forward to it, Robert.”

“That’s great. Say, where is your wagon? At Stella’s?”

“I rode Cinnamon today and left her at Stella’s. Since Ginny had all the supplies we needed, there was no need for the rig.”

Near the boardinghouse, Robert watched the children slip through the door. “I’ll go get Cinnamon for you, unless you want to stay for a while.” He stopped in front of the porch.

“No, truly, I’ve got supper to prepare and I need to check on Pop. Oh, did you know that Tom made a beautiful cane for him?”

“Yes, I knew he was carving one. It’s taken him some time, and I’m proud that he would think of someone else.”

Grace smiled sweetly. “I’d say your parenting skills are improving.”

Robert stuffed his thumbs into his pockets. “Thank you. I surely hope so. I still have a lot to learn when it comes to children. I’ll go get your horse and be back in a flash.”

Grace rested on the front porch to wait and plan the evening meal in her head. Leftovers from the potpie she made yesterday would be just fine with her, and her father never complained. Hearing the front door open, she turned around. Stella started down the steps.

“I saw you from the window after the children came barreling in. I wanted to ask you about something.” Stella sat down next to her.

“Hello, Stella. What did you need?”

“I didn’t want to overstep my bounds, so I felt I should ask you first. Would it be okay if I took your father for weekly baths at the hot springs? I know how busy you are taking care of the farm and your father and wanted to offer my help.” The older lady smoothed the front of her apron, splattered with spots of berry stains and flour, as she talked.

“Why, I don’t mind at all, if it’s okay with him.”

Stella grinned. “I’ve already asked him and he said yes, but I still wanted to get your approval.”

Grace chuckled. “My father doesn’t need my approval, nor do you, and truly it would be a big help for me. But won’t that be a burden for you?”

Stella’s face colored a dusty pink. “I . . . I’d want to do anything I can to help Owen.”

“Then I’m very grateful. Stella, I know I wasn’t so friendly the first time I met you, and I’m sorry. That was very unkind of me. I guess I thought I was protecting my father.”

Stella patted her on the hand. “No need to apologize. I understand. But I must tell you I feel a connection to your father that I’ve not felt before . . . not entirely romantic—comfortable too.” She blushed again. “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much.”

Grace was surprised that Stella had said as much as she did. Somehow Grace never thought about romance and her father at his age. It might take some getting used to. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I promise not to get in the way.”

She was relieved when Robert showed up with Cinnamon.

“Want me to ride with you back home since it’s getting late?” Robert asked, handing her the reins.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I think I’ll take a shortcut so I’ll get there sooner.”

Grace waved goodbye, comforted by knowing that someone cared about her.