Beth settled Lizzie at the kitchen table with a pencil and sketch pad and went to check on Annie. For the moment, the little cherub slept peacefully. How many times had she awakened her father during the night? He certainly looked like he hadn’t slept much, with his ruffled black hair and red eyes. It must truly be difficult for him to take care of Annie and run his business.
Several pairs of overalls lay on the arm of a side chair that sat in one corner of the room. Even though Mr. Maddox had obviously worn them to work—more than once, Beth hung them up on one of the pegs on the wall. She crossed to the window, marveling that it was open in mid-December. Though the early mornings had been cool, the sun quickly warmed her to the point she didn’t even need her cloak. One thing was for certain: she wouldn’t miss New York’s chilly temperatures.
On the chest of drawers sat a picture of a pretty woman. Beth walked over and examined it. Annie had her mother’s blond hair and fair skin. The girl looked nothing like her father. Had her mother already had the girl when she and Mr. Maddox married? She sighed. It was none of her business. After another peek at Annie, she fled the room to check on Lizzie, but when she walked into the kitchen, the girl was nowhere to be seen.
Beth rushed from room to room, even checking the two empty ones upstairs. Where could she be? She hurried to the window and searched the town, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl. Had she gone back to the store where they were staying for some reason?
Downstairs, she checked on Annie again then hurried outside onto the porch. “Lizzie? Where are you?”
Loud clanging rang out from the smithy. She hated disturbing Mr. Maddox, but she had to find Lizzie, and he needed to know she was going to search for her. She jogged down the stairs and across the dried yellow grass intermixed with green weeds. She could hardly imagine anything being green in December.
As she neared the smithy, she skidded to a halt. Lizzie stood at the doors, peering in. Beth hoped Mr. Maddox hadn’t discovered her yet. In fact, she was sure he would have returned the girl if he had. “Lizzie,” she called in a loud whisper.
The girl looked over her shoulder, her eyes growing wide. She took another look in the blacksmith shop then backed away. “I just wondered what he was doing to make all the noise.”
“You shouldn’t have left without me. I had to leave Annie alone to come find you.” She took the girl’s hand. “Let’s hurry back to the house.”
“Why is he making all that noise?”
“He repairs tools and make things out of iron. Sometimes he has to pound on them to get them to form the shape they need to be.”
“Can I do it?”
“No, sweetie. It takes a big, strong man like Mr. Maddox to wield those heavy tools. And the fire and shop can be dangerous.” Had Annie gotten hurt in there? Mr. Maddox hadn’t mentioned how his daughter had cut her arm, even though he’d been quite distressed about it.
“He’s awful big.”
And tall. And handsome. Beth blinked. Was she actually attracted to the blacksmith? She couldn’t argue that his black eyes and tanned complexion intrigued her, and he was far manlier than the pale men dressed in their fancy clothing she’d known in New York. None of them had ever intrigued her enough to take a second glance, but she could barely keep her eyes off Cade Maddox. Even his name sounded masculine. “Ugh! Stop thinking about him.”
“Who?” Lizzie looked up at her.
Beth shook her head and blew out a loud breath. “Nobody, sweetie. Let’s check on Annie.”
As they stepped into the room, Annie yawned and opened her eyes. She blinked several times, frantically searched the room, and then puckered up. “Pa. Want Pa.”
Beth smiled and sat in the bedside chair she suspected Mr. Maddox had spent the night in. “Your papa is working in his blacksmith shop. Listen, and you can hear him banging his hammer.”
Annie cocked her head then nodded.
“Lizzie and I came to take care of you until he comes home.” She reached behind her and tugged Lizzie forward.
Annie stared at the girl for a long moment then smiled. She looked to one side and the other and pointed at Lizzie’s doll. “Baby.”
Beth reached across the bed and retrieved the toy and handed it to Annie. She glanced at Lizzie to see if she was upset that the younger girl hugged her doll, but she didn’t seem to be, and Annie hadn’t cried for her father again. Beth wasn’t quite ready to relax yet. “Lizzie, would you please fetch my basket. I imagine Annie must be hungry.”
“Me firsty.” Annie used her wounded arm to try to push up and cried out.
“Shh … It’s all right, sweetie. I know it hurts.” Beth cupped Annie’s cheek. She needed to get some food and drink down her and then more of the pain meds. The best thing Annie could do was sleep for the next few days. Her hopes of taking her outside were obviously premature.
An hour later, Annie was fed and back asleep. Beth had stared at the mess in the kitchen as long as she could. “Lizzie, why don’t we bless Mr. Maddox and do the dishes?”
Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “I’m drawing a picture for Annie right now.”
Beth turned away lest the girl see her smiling. She set a fire in the stove and filled the reservoir with water as well as another pot, which she set on a burner. She unwrapped the piece of meat she’d purchased at the mercantile and put it on to boil so they could have stew for lunch.
She scraped as much of the dried grime as she could into the slop bucket then washed the dishes. When she finished, she wiped down the table, chairs, and counters. Standing back, she admired how the kitchen gleamed, from its bright gingham yellow curtains to the oak table and chairs to the fine black stove with the gold crescent symbol on the oven door. The quality of the house and furniture had been a surprise. Mrs. Maddox must have had good taste.
Footsteps sounded on the porch, and Mr. Maddox walked in. He crossed through the parlor, and when he stepped into the kitchen, his eyebrows rose. “You cleaned up. Wow. Thank you.”
The warm smile he sent her was all the reward Beth needed. He looked so much handsomer when he smiled and his eyes twinkled.
He sniffed the air. “What’s that delicious smell?”
“Just a piece of beef boiling. I’m making stew.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean for you to do all of this.”
“I know, but I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing while Annie slept. Oh, by the way, I got her to eat a few bites of a muffin I brought, and she drank some water. Then I gave her more of the powder. She’s sleeping again.”
He nodded. “Good.” He shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable, then spun around. “Gotta get back to work.”
Beth walked to the door and watched him rush back to his smithy. Did she make him nervous? Or had she upset him because she’d cleaned his kitchen? Or did smelling the cooking food bring back memories of times he’d shared with his wife?
She wished he would have stayed a bit longer, because she’d like to get to know him better. But then, she was here so he could work. She sighed. There was no sense in allowing herself to be attracted to Cade Maddox. Soon she’d be on a train, leaving Advent behind.
Besides, her father would never approve of her having a relationship with a blacksmith.
Cade pounded his hammer, finding some relief from his stress in the loud clang. The sight of Miss Ruskin in his clean kitchen, along with the homey aroma of food sent his mind wandering in a direction it shouldn’t go. He slammed down the hammer again, focusing on the task of making a new spade to replace the one that had split. The handle was strong and could be reused, and with the spade he made, it would be good as new. He glanced at the railroad man who’d remained behind while the other walked over to the mercantile. “How long before the train will be able to back out of town?”
The man, sitting on Cade’s chopping block, shrugged and stretched. “Another day or two if we don’t get no more rain.”
One day—maybe two—before he had to make his decision.
He stared into the flames, remembering the big open gash on Annie’s soft skin. It was his fault she’d bear that scar the rest of her life. His fault that she was frightened and in such horrible pain. He wasn’t cut out to be a father. Yes, he loved the girl as much as if she’d been born to him and Nellie, but he wouldn’t risk her life for his happiness. She deserved a mother as much as a father, and he wasn’t likely to find another woman who would see something in him worth loving like Nellie had. The thought of living out his days alone didn’t sit well, but not many women wanted a bear of a blacksmith to cuddle.
He fought the sting in his eyes and raised his hammer again. He didn’t normally dwell in self-pity, but he’d lost the woman he dearly loved, and if he followed through with his plan, he’d lose Annie, too.
By noon he’d finished repairs on the train tools and sent the men on their way. He paced to the back of his shop and then to the front again. He wasn’t one to put off making a decision, and the sooner he made this one, the better it would be for everyone. He scrubbed his hand across his nape, hating what he knew he had to do. But it would be better for Annie. The girl needed more than a father who worked so much. She needed a mother—and he couldn’t give her that. As much as it pained him, he had to let her go.
Cade hurried to the table where he kept track of the jobs that came in and pulled a piece of paper off a shelf. He quickly penned a note: TEMPORARILY CLOSED. Then he shut the doors of the smithy, locked it, and tacked up the note. He strode to the back entrance, placed a large iron top over the orange embers in his forge, and locked the rear entrance.
He glanced at his house as he made a beeline for the barn that sat behind the smithy, trying not to think of the domestic scene inside. Maybe if Miss Ruskin wasn’t leaving, he might see if there was a chance he could gain her interest, but her father was going to the Arizona Territory, and no doubt she’d go with him. Too bad. She was the only woman to have caught his eye since Nellie.
Cade groomed Hercules and saddled the big horse then led him around to the front of the house and tied him to the porch railing. After washing up, he stopped in front of the door, steeling himself. “God, help me. You know it’s best for Annie to have both a ma and pa. Help me to let her go.”
As he opened the door, he squeezed away the burning in his eyes. Other than burying his wife, he’d never done anything so difficult. He needed to do it fast before he changed his mind.
Cade stepped into the kitchen, and Miss Ruskin turned from the stove, carrying a bowl of stew.
She smiled. “Perfect timing. Annie is still awake, I believe. She ate some stew and is ready for another nap. Why don’t you go see her before you eat?”
Cade swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d thought to take the coward’s way and not see Annie again, but he couldn’t.
Lizzie slid out of her chair, rushed around the table, and took hold of two of his fingers. “C’mon, Mr. Max. Let’s go see Annie.”
He smiled at the girl’s mispronunciation of his last name. “All right. You lead the way.”
“Lizzie, you need to come and eat. Let Mr. Maddox and Annie have some time alone together.”
The girl glanced up at him and frowned. She pushed her glasses up her nose then released his hand. “Aww … all right.” She climbed back into her chair. As Cade entered the bedroom, he heard Lizzie say, “If they’re together, how can they be alone?”
How ironic. Cade gazed down on Annie, feeling more alone than he had in years.
She yawned then opened her eyes and smiled. She lifted her uninjured arm up. “Pa! Hold you.”
He picked up the little girl and cuddled her against him, rocking her as he had done the first days she’d come to live with him when she’d been scared and everything had been new to her. She was a year and a half older now. Would the transition to another home be easier? Please, Lord, make it so.
Annie grew heavy, and he realized she’d fallen asleep. He kissed her forehead gently and laid her in his bed. He brushed the wispy blond hair from her face and stared down, memorizing it. If he didn’t love her so much, he’d never let her go. But it was better this way.
He turned away from the bed, taking a moment to compose himself, then walked back into the kitchen, ready to explain to Miss Ruskin that he was leaving. The delicious aroma of the stew made his stomach growl.
Lizzie pounded on the table. “Mr. Max! Sit by me. Right here.”
Cade stared down at the place Miss Ruskin must have set for him. Steam rose from the bowl of vegetables and beef, tantalizing him. He didn’t know when he’d eat again, and even though he had no appetite, the food enticed him as much as the little girl’s invitation. He drew out the chair, waited until Miss Ruskin set down a bowl of biscuits and was seated, and then he took his seat.
Miss Ruskin caught his eye. “I had expected Poppa to join us, but he must have been called away. Would you mind blessing the food, Mr. Maddox?”
Cade nodded, staring at his bowl of stew. He could be thankful for the food, but the situation was breaking his heart. He mumbled a quick prayer for the food and the hands that prepared it then wolfed down his serving along with three biscuits. His left leg jiggled, shaking the whole table. He forced it to stop, only to find it doing the same thing a minute later. He swiped his sweaty palm on his pant leg.
“Annie’s getting better.” Lizzie gazed up at him, biting into her biscuit.
“It seems so.” He smiled and nodded. In another year, would Annie be talking as well as Lizzie?
He looked at Miss Ruskin. There was one thing he had to be certain of before he left. “Is it true that you work for the Children’s Aid Society?”
She nodded. “Yes, it is. I got lonely with Poppa being gone so much and started volunteering there. It was hard to leave last time I was there, knowing I’d never be back.”
“That’s a nice thing you did—working with orphans. I reckon you don’t know that my Nellie and I got Annie from one of those Orphan Train agents.”
“You did!” She sat back in her chair. “No wonder she doesn’t look like you. I just figured she resembled her mother.”
“Nellie had blond hair, and I think that’s one reason she was partial to Annie—that and her being so young.”
“How old was she?”
“Just shy of two.”
“Lizzie is the youngest of the children I brought west.”
“I’m four,” Lizzie piped up.
“My, you’re a big girl.” Cade smiled at Lizzie then shifted his gaze back to Miss Ruskin. “Have you done that before—taken children to families?”
She shook her head. “No, just this once. When the director of the orphanage learned where we were going, she offered to pay my fare if I agreed to take some children to their new homes. Poppa wasn’t thrilled with the idea of traveling with ten children, but not having to pay my fare won him over.”
Cade had learned what he needed to know—that she really did work for the Orphan Train. She may not be happy about finding a home for Annie, but she would. Miss Ruskin had a good heart, and he felt certain she would find a nice home for Annie.
“Would you like some more stew?” Miss Ruskin stood, and Cade shot to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair. He steadied it and pushed it back in place.
“No thank you. It was very tasty though. I do need to talk to you”—he glanced at Lizzie and then her guardian—“in private, if possible.”
“Oh, of course. Lizzie, please finish your meal and listen for Annie while I talk to Mr. Maddox on the porch.”
The girl nodded and waved at Cade. She wasn’t making his leaving any easier. How was it no one had wanted the little charmer? If he were married, he’d adopt her faster than a hammer could hit an anvil. He returned her wave and smiled then sobered as he walked through the parlor.
Miss Ruskin crossed her arms. “It’s gotten cooler out since this morning, don’t you think?”
He glanced up at the trees, noticing the way they swayed in the breeze. He’d been so lost in his deliberation that he hadn’t noticed. “The wind’s out of the north. Usually cools down when that happens.”
She stared in the direction of the trees. “Do you think we’ll get more rain?”
Cade looked up at the blue sky. Was she worried she wouldn’t be able to leave soon? “Doubtful.”
“That’s good. So, what did you need to talk about?” She gazed up with curious blue eyes.
He hated ruining her day, but he was sure to. He rubbed his neck, trying to find the words to express what he felt. It was important to him that she not think he was a yellow belly snake for giving up his daughter. But there was no easy way to say what he had to. “I … uh … when you leave, I want you to take Annie with you.”