“Thank you for not telling her the baby isn’t really mine. She would never understand why I feel as if Belle should be raised as if she was mine.”
“No, I can see a woman like her would never understand.”
“Well, don’t let her make you angry. If you need me, I’ll be here. I’ll make sure not to work while she’s staying with us, but I hope to get her back to New York as quickly as humanly possible. It’s not like she’s going to help around the house and make things easier for any of us.”
“She should! I can’t imagine a grown woman coming into a situation like this and not doing everything she can to be helpful.”
He laughed. “I don’t think my mother has ever cooked a meal in her life. I know she doesn’t sew. She’s always been surrounded by servants. She hasn’t needed to learn any housekeeping or cooking skills. She’s a pampered socialite.” He’d always felt sorry for anyone marrying one of his sisters, who had been raised to be the same type of selfish person his mother was.
Minerva sighed heavily. “I’ll just keep telling myself that she isn’t here for long and that she raised a fine son. I’ll get through it. And I probably won’t even have to throw vegetables at her head.”
He grinned. “If you do throw vegetables at her head, would you try to remember to take them out of the jar first?”
She laughed, picturing the scene if she didn’t remove them from their jars first. “Just thinking about that will keep me going. You’re a good man, Amos Bowen.”
“Mother can be a good person, too. She heads charitable committees and helps the poor a great deal. She just—well, she gets other people to do the actual work.” How could he convince anyone his mother was a good person when he wasn’t quite sure he believed it himself?
“She sounds like an absolutely delightful woman . . . as long as she isn’t causing my daughter any trouble.” She started fixing three plates. “Go and wake Becky and tell her it’s supper time. I know she needs her sleep, but right now, she needs her meals a tad bit more.”
“I will.” He hurried through the house and opened the door to the bedroom he shared with Becky. Walking to the edge of the bed, he sat down and put his hand on her arm. “Becky, it’s time for supper.” He loved watching her sleep, and he hated to disturb her when he knew she needed rest.
“Supper?” She rolled to her side facing him. “I’m sleepy.”
“Your mother says you need food more than sleep.”
Becky sighed heavily. “Sounds like Mama.” She hid a yawn behind her hand. “All right. Let’s go eat supper.”
“I have to tell you something first.” He bit his lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell her that his mother had returned. “We had an unexpected visitor this afternoon.”
“My father?” Her voice sounded excited at the prospect. “I hate that my parents split up over me.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t your father. It’s my mother.”
Becky closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to think about it. Her father was the person she would have most wanted to see, and his mother the one she least wanted to see. “How are she and my mother getting along?”
“About as poorly as you’d expect. I really think one of us should be between them at all times.”
“Just what we need right now, isn’t it?” It took all of her energy to take care of the baby and herself. Dealing with his mother was just going to drag her down.
He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “Mother knows you’ve been ill, and she promised to not upset you. Want to bet how long it takes her to break that promise?”
She giggled. “That’s not very nice!”
“Neither is she!” He got up and held a hand down to help her to her feet. Just as they were both standing, the baby started to cry. “Of course she cries now. I was just smelling your mother’s supper, and it smells wonderful. I’m hungry!”
Becky laughed. “I can feed her, but I need food more than sleep, remember?” She gave him an impish grin and left the room, knowing he’d pick up the baby. She wasn’t allowed to lift her yet, but she could hold her if someone handed the baby to her.
He shook his head as she left, very amused that she was taking advantage of the situation, even a little. It had been so hard to keep her from doing too much that it was a welcome change.
He picked up the baby and carefully changed her diaper—something that had frightened him just weeks ago was like second nature now. Carrying her into the kitchen, he talked softly to her the whole while, wondering who would win the fight over who got to feed the baby—him or Minerva. At mealtimes, the fights were almost brutal. Each of them wanted the other to be able to eat the food while it was hot.
Becky was already seated at the table, knowing there was no point in her even getting involved in the bickering that took place when Belle woke up at mealtime. Everyone was certain she was on the brink of starvation, though she felt a little better each day.
Apparently, Amos won the silent struggle between husband and mother-in-law, and he sat at the table with the others, feeding the baby while they ate. No one had called his mother down to supper, and Becky wasn’t sure if it was an oversight or deliberate, but she did know it was a much quieter and nicer meal without her.
When the baby was fed, she was passed off to Minerva, who ate one-handed, while Amos applied himself to his meal. He had just taken the first few bites when his mother came down the stairs. “No one told me it was supper time!”
“Hello, Mrs. Bowen,” Becky said softly. “Please join us. We didn’t want to disturb your rest after your long days of travel.”
Mrs. Bowen stared at Becky for a moment. “You don’t look half-dead! I was made to understand you almost died.”
“That’s what they tell me. I’m getting stronger every day, though. Thank you so much for asking after my health. It’s very kind of you.” Becky continued eating, knowing she needed to get as much into her as she could, and she couldn’t let her mother-in-law put her off food.
Mrs. Bowen started to say something, but she stopped. “You’re welcome.” She walked to the stove and served herself a plate of food, surprising them all.
“I didn’t even know you knew how to serve yourself, Mother,” Amos said.
“Don’t get cheeky with me!” she said, sitting down and applying herself to her meal. She looked at the baby Minerva was holding. “Does she have all her fingers and toes?”
Minerva nodded, refusing to talk to the woman who had been so rude to her.
Amos answered her, knowing it was the only way to keep the peace. “She’s perfect in every way. The most beautifully perfect baby in the whole world.”
Mrs. Bowen’s face softened for a moment. “Every father thinks that about his own child.” She looked at the baby who was held against Minerva’s shoulder. “I’d like to hold her after I finish eating.”
“That would be fine, Mrs. Bowen,” Becky said softly. “I’d like you to get to know her. She’s a sweet baby. She only cries when she’s hungry, and she’s a good sleeper.”
“All blessings, I’m sure.” Mrs. Bowen focused her attention on her son. “When are you going to hire a nanny to take care of her? She needs to be raised right.”
Amos sighed. “Things aren’t done that way around here. Becky will take care of her. There’s no reason for her not to.”
“How will Becky take her rightful place in society if she’s caring for a child all the time?”
“There really isn’t a ‘society’ to take her place in here. It’s a relatively small mining community. People are struggling to put enough food on the table, not going to society balls.” Amos knew his mother would never understand the type of world he now lived in, but he wasn’t sure it mattered either. He was happy where he was, and so was Becky.
“Well, then you need to move back to New York. You’re depriving your daughter of a proper upbringing. And
your wife has a right to take her place in society where she belongs. Why would you even consider living here?” His mother shook her head at him, acting as if he’d lost his mind.
“I built this house with my own two hands after designing it. This is where I’ll raise my family. Thank you for your opinions. I will make note of them.”
As soon as supper was over, Becky stood up to help clear the table. Her mother handed the baby to Amos and walked over to wash the dishes while Becky dried. He held her as if she was made to be in his arms and patted her back gently.
His mother frowned at Becky. “I thought she was too sick to be doing housework? Why isn’t her mother doing it all?”
Becky closed her eyes for a moment, trying to control her temper. “My mother has been doing most of what gets done around this house, but I need to be useful. I’m not used to sitting idly while others do work for me.”
“You should get used to it! You have a new baby. If you’re not going to have a nanny take care of her, you should at least have someone who will clean and cook for you. It’s that simple.” Mrs. Bowen looked at her son. “Which will you get her? A nanny or a housekeeper?”
“If she wants either one, she only has to ask for it. Until that happens, I’ll thank you to mind your own business.”
Becky heard his response, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. He’d told her like it was, and she’d loved hearing him do it. Hopefully she’d back off now. Becky’s mother-in-law was a busybody, and she didn’t want her around. At all.
Chapter Nine
By lunch Thursday, Mrs. Bowen was losing her mind with boredom. “All you people do around here is chores and take care of the baby. Don’t you ever do anything fun?” She pushed her food around on her plate. “I have never been so bored in all my life. We haven’t been shopping once!”
Amos sighed. “Becky isn’t strong enough to go shopping, and her mother is here to take care of her. I can drive you into town this afternoon if you just can’t stand another minute of being cooped up inside the house.” He would prefer it if she’d help out with the chores or find some way to occupy herself, but he knew he was asking the impossible.
“That would be lovely.” She stood up. “Give me a minute to put on my shopping dress and hat, and I’ll be down and ready to go.”
As soon as she was gone, Becky looked at her husband. “Find a way to lose her, would you? Are there still kidnappers in town that you could parade her in front of?” She grinned as she made the suggestion, knowing she was being cheeky, but sometimes, she couldn’t help but want her mother-in-law to just go away!
“They’d bring her back,” he said with a groan.
Minerva gasped at her daughter’s words! “Rebekah Lynn! I did not raise you to be so vindictive!”
“Sorry, Mama. I should know better. You’re right.” Becky decided to pretend to be apologetic to appease her mother. They all knew the old harridan deserved every word they said about her.
“You should ride into town with us. I think the sunshine would do you good.” Amos wasn’t looking forward to the ride with just his mother, but if Becky was there, it would be so much better.
Becky frowned for a moment. “I need to help Mama with the dishes.”
“I think Amos is right. You should go with them. It’ll be good for you. You don’t have to get out and shop. You can just sit in the wagon and soak up all the sun you can.”
Becky looked between her mother and Amos, knowing both of them expected her to refuse. “You know what? I think I will go. It sounds lovely.” She got up and went into the bedroom to make sure her hair was fixed and her dress looked clean. She changed quickly because the baby had spit up on her, and when she looked in the mirror again, she thought she wouldn’t shame her husband.
When she walked back out into the parlor, Amos was waiting with his mother. “Let’s go,” Becky said, a smile on her face. “I need some fresh air.” Every time she’d gone to sit on the porch all week, his mother had joined her there, ruining the experience for her.
Amos offered Becky his arm, and they walked out to where he’d hitched up the wagon while she got ready. He helped her up, and she sat in the middle between his mother and Amos. “What are you wanting to shop for?” Becky asked.
“Oh, I thought a nice doll for the baby.” Mrs. Bowen had yet to call the baby by her name because she said Belle was an object, not a baby’s name.
Becky frowned. “You could probably find that at the mercantile.”
“There are no doll stores in this town of yours? There’s a beautiful store that sells dolls on Madison Avenue. You should really visit New York, Becky. If you did, you’d find this town of yours very . . . lacking.” Mrs. Bowen pulled her gloves on tighter as she spoke.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve lived in Creede my whole life. I think I might find New York overwhelming, rather than being disappointed in Creede.” Becky looked straight ahead as they passed her father’s ranch. He was standing out front and seemed to be frowning at her.
“I suppose the mercantile will have to do. I’ll see if I can find a doll that would be worthy of my granddaughter.”
Amos shook his head. “You do realize that at the moment all your granddaughter does is eat, drool, and soil her diapers, right?”
“Must you be so crude? I did not raise you to speak that way!”
“No, but then you didn’t raise me, did you? The nanny took care of that.” Amos was getting so tired of his mother’s superior attitude, he wanted to shove her on a train back to New York.
“As is the custom in all good households.” Mrs. Bowen gripped the seat as they went over a deep rut in the road. “Someone needs to repair these roads.”
Amos didn’t respond. He was ready to get to town and have a few minutes away from his mother. He would stay in the wagon with his wife. “You should really get a buggy. They’re so much more . . . genteel.”
When they pulled up in front of the mercantile, Mrs. Bowen waited for him to get out and help her down. “Amos? How long are you going to keep me waiting?”
He wanted to make her get down on her own, but the truth was, he had been raised better than that—whether by his mother or a nanny. He ran around the wagon and helped her down, climbing back up beside his wife. “Do you think if I put a frog in her bed, she’d go back to New York sooner?” he asked.
Becky giggled. “If I thought it would work, I’d help you find one!”
They enjoyed their time just sitting in the wagon, watching the people who walked past them. “There go Pastor Eugene and his new wife Benita,” Amos said. “Have you ever seen a newlywed couple argue that much?”
“Never!” Becky said with a sigh. “I really think they’re going to kill one another one of these days if they can’t find a way to live peacefully.”
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Bowen rushed out of the store looking furious. She didn’t wait for Amos to help her up, instead climbing up beside Becky. “Drive, Amos.” She held no packages, which surprised them both.
“Where to?”
“Your home, please.”
Amos and Becky exchanged a glance, wondering what her problem was. As soon as they were out of town—and more importantly out of earshot of others—Mrs. Bowen began to yell. “Why did that pastor and his wife talk about the two of you marrying when Becky was almost ready to give birth? They said, and I quote, ‘It’s a good thing they married when they did. I heard Becky had her little bastard not a week later.’”
Becky felt her stomach drop. She had no idea how to respond.
“It’s true, Mother. I married Becky a week before Belle was born. Do you have a problem with that?” Amos kept his voice calm. He was obviously not going to let his mother get the best of him.
“Why didn’t you tell me that baby wasn’t yours? They said her real father is nothing but a coal miner!”
“I’m Belle’s real father. I held her when she was first born. I wake up with her every night. I married her mother, knowing f
ull well she was on the way, and I was excited about her from the moment Becky said she’d marry me. I am her real father.”
“You let me travel all this way thinking that child was my granddaughter! And she’s not!”
“If you accept me as your son, you’ll accept Belle as your granddaughter. If you don’t want to accept her, you can get right back on a train and return to New York where you belong.” Amos’s voice was low, but there was no question about whether he meant every word he said.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Amos! If you can’t see the difference between this floozy you married and a decent, respectable woman who would give you children of your own, then I’m happy to leave.”
Amos stopped the wagon right there in the middle of the road. “You will apologize to my wife—the woman I love—or you will walk.”
“Well, I never!” Mrs. Bowen replied furiously.
“You’ve never apologized for any of the evil things you’ve said to people. That’s very true. You’ll apologize now or walk. You have five seconds.”
“I won’t do it!”
“Then get down and walk. I won’t be taking you back into town either.” He watched her for a moment. “Go!”
Instead his mother closed her eyes for a moment. “I apologize for being rude to you, Becky.”
Becky didn’t know how to even respond to that. “All right.” It seemed to be best. She wasn’t going to tell her she forgave her because she knew the apology was not given freely.
“Now take me to your home, let me pack my things, and take me to the hotel in town. I can find my way back to New York.”
“Fine.” Amos started driving again, heading to the house. He wanted her gone just as soon as possible. He put his hand on Becky’s knee. He needed to let her know that he supported her fully, and nothing his mother said would ever sway him.
Becky felt paralyzed. She was afraid to say anything to anger the woman beside her even more, but she didn’t ever want to look at her again either. Hopefully she really would go back to New York and never bother them again.
Bargain For Baby (Cowboys & Angels Book 10) Page 9