Before he left, he did talk to Pastor Nelson. Then he headed out to mount Major. He’d been gone from the ranch much longer than he’d thought he would be. He was sure Mrs. Oleson was wondering where he was.
As he headed toward the ranch, he decided to take the doctor’s suggestion to heart. All the way, he prayed for the two women, and this time he didn’t run out of words. He’d never prayed for any woman the way he did for Lorinda. The widow’d had enough sorrows in her life, so he prayed for her labor and for the birth to be easy. He prayed for the baby to be healthy, and he prayed for Mrs. Oleson to know exactly what to do. He reached the edge of his property before he realized where he was. He’d trusted Major to get him home safely.
He reined in at the front gate, then jumped down, tying the reins to the hitching rail outside the fence. Rusty came down the steps from the porch and met him by the gate.
“I stayed close, Boss, in case the women needed me.”
“You’re a good man.” Franklin clapped him on the shoulder. “Everything go all right?”
“Think so. Haven’t heard much from inside.” The ranch hand glanced down the drive. “Is the doctor far behind you?”
“He’s not coming. There was a mine cave-in, and he’s busy with the injured.” Franklin started up the walkway to the porch.
“I’ll take care of Major for you. You won’t have to worry about him.”
“Thanks.” Franklin hurried up the steps.
Just before he opened the door, he heard a mewling cry that quickly changed into a squall. He rushed inside and followed the sound toward the bedroom where the women were. He knocked on the door.
It opened, and Mrs. Oleson thrust the newborn, swaddled in a flannel blanket, into his arms. “It’s a boy.”
Then she firmly closed the door between them. He stared down at the tiny, red face with the infant’s mouth wide open. The baby continued bawling like a newborn calf, his tiny tongue vibrating with the noise. What was he supposed to do now? He’d never held a newborn infant before. What if he did something wrong?
Trying to forget his nervousness, he pulled the baby close to his chest and started gently rocking his torso, the way he’d seen other new fathers do at church. He hummed a nameless tune, the kind he often crooned to settle down the cows for the night on cattle drives. Within a couple of minutes, the little scrap of humanity settled his head close to Franklin’s heart. Soon it felt as if the infant’s breathing matched Franklin’s heartbeat, and some kind of unexplainable connection slammed into him almost taking his breath away.
He walked into the parlor, staring at the tiny child the whole time. He couldn’t get enough of looking at the baby. He’d always thought newborn babies were ugly, but this little guy leaned toward cuteness. A fluff of blond hair surrounded his head, and his mouth sucked on his own fist, even though his eyes were closed.
Something deep inside Franklin wished this child were his. The child he would never have. Longings he’d suppressed held him in a firm grip. He imagined the tiny boy taking his first steps, growing and learning about manly things under his own tutelage. He could see riding the range with the young boy in the saddle in front of him.
This baby needed a father to teach him and love him. And holding him so close to his own heart, Franklin knew he could love this child. Maybe the strange connection he felt was the beginning of that love.
The baby stretched his neck and opened his eyes. Franklin had heard women say newborns couldn’t see clearly, but this baby’s eyes locked on his and drew Franklin into his heart as well. The connection was complete.
Why can’t I be the boy’s father? He didn’t have to open his heart to the woman, just because he did to the child. Maybe this was the answer to his desire to have an heir. People got married all the time and had successful marriages with less than a child to keep them together. He could offer marriage to Lorinda. He would protect her, give her a home forever, and they could share this child. She wouldn’t want anything deeper, because of loving and losing her husband. He didn’t want anything else, because he couldn’t allow his heart to be trampled again. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him.
Finally, a way he could have a son.
Chapter 10
“Sorry, Franklin.” Mrs. Oleson came into the parlor and startled him.
He was concentrating on the baby and his plans so much, he hadn’t heard the sound of her approaching. “Sorry for what?”
“I didn’t mean to leave the boy with you so long. I just had to take care of Lorinda and needed you to hold him for me.” She came over and peeked at the infant sound asleep in his arms. A slow smile spread across her face. “He’s a really cute sprite, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is. And you don’t need to apologize. We got along just fine.” He could hardly pry his eyes from the treasure he held. A tiny baby had changed his perspective completely. “How is Mrs. Sullivan?”
“She’s resting.” Mrs. Oleson ran a finger lightly across the downy cheek of the sleeping baby. “He’s so soft.” She turned her attention toward Franklin. “Don’t you think you should be on a first name basis with her after all this time?”
His housekeeper had a point. He’d been thinking about her as Lorinda for a while now, trying to be careful not to call her that out loud. “I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.”
“When we’re alone, she calls me Ingrid, instead of Mrs. Oleson. I don’t think it will make her uncomfortable at all.”
That settled it in his mind. He was relieved to stop trying to remember not to call her by her first name. From now on, she would be just Lorinda.
A pretty name for a beautiful lady. He was glad he hadn’t blurted that thought aloud, but why was he noticing things like that about her? He didn’t want another pretty woman to get past the wall he’d carefully built around his heart.
His housekeeper put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t the doctor come out here?”
“Mine cave-in at Farncomb Hill.” The baby wiggled in his arms, and Franklin’s eyes were drawn to his tiny face again. “I went out there to talk to him, but he had patients he couldn’t leave. I prayed all the way home for you and Lorinda.” He settled onto a chair, gently cradling the boy. “Have a seat. You look tired.”
She complied and heaved a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you were praying, Franklin. The birth was a little scary for both of us. But God was present, and everything worked out all right. Of course, if the doctor had come with you, he would have been too late for the birth anyway.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes while Franklin tried to formulate the words he wanted to say. “You’ve known me all my life, and I’ve really depended on you since I lost my parents.”
She nodded, interest sparking in her eyes.
“While I’ve been holding this baby, I’ve been mulling over an idea, and I’d like your opinion about it.” That sounded so stilted. He’d never had a problem talking to her before.
She perked up and smiled. “What kind of idea? I’m all ears.”
He wondered how to say this without giving away too many of his thoughts. “I’ve always wanted children, especially a son. Someone to inherit this ranch. It’s been in my family for two generations.”
“Of course, you have.”
He felt silly for mentioning that, because she already knew it. He’d told her before that he wanted an heir. But she didn’t know he’d promised himself not to ever let a woman past his defenses again. He couldn’t face the consequences if it didn’t work out. Just thinking about it tied his stomach in knots.
“You know how hard it’s been for me to trust anyone since Miriam and Marvin...disappointed me.” The words were hard to force through his throat. On the way, each one tore a bloody path through his heart.
“I don’t know what could have gotten into their heads to treat you so badly.” She frowned, tsked, and shook her head.
“That’s neither here nor there, but they’re both out of my life. And
I’m glad.” He glanced down at the sleeping baby–so trusting, depending on him. “Since that time, I’ve shied away from any woman who set her cap for me... Also from mothers looking for husbands for their daughters.”
“I noticed that.” She laughed. “I think everyone has. And plenty of them have flocked around you at church and socials anyway.”
“That’s why I try to spend most of my time at those things talking to other men.”
This was harder to put into words than he thought it would be. He just wanted to clutch the baby in his arms and hush, but he had to get it all said before he chickened out. Thank goodness no one else was within hearing distance.
She quirked one eyebrow accompanied by a chuckle. “That you do.”
“I look at this boy who lost his father even before he was born. Maybe we were made for each other.” He stopped and his gaze wove over the tiny features. “Do you think Lorinda would ever consider marrying me if I asked her?”
Surprise raised her eyebrows before she answered. “I know she has settled comfortably here. And I don’t think she’s in a hurry to leave.” A smile spread across Mrs. Oleson’s face. “I think it’s a great idea. I’ve mentioned plenty of times to you that I don’t like you being alone.”
“Yes, you have.”
The baby opened his eyes and started to fuss.
“Here, let me take him to his mother.” She gently lifted him from Franklin’s arms.
They felt so empty and cold with the child gone. Reluctant to let him go, he thrust his hands into his front pockets.
She headed toward the doorway, but stopped and turned back. “I think you should wait a while before you say anything to her. She needs to recover from childbirth without having serious things to think about. She’ll want to spend most of the next few days alone with her son.”
Too bad Lorinda didn’t have a husband to share all of this with. He was sure that’s what every woman wanted when she had her children. Things would’ve been different if Mike Sullivan had lived.
Mrs. Oleson hesitated. “Maybe you should go with me. You can hold the baby outside in the hallway while I check on her.”
Once more, he held the tiny boy against his chest. The pain of his own loss speared through him. Maybe he and Lorinda could settle on a way to help each other, with neither of them getting hurt again.
He certainly hoped so.
Lorinda awoke from a dreamy state where so many things mingled together without making any sense. Pain, loss, a baby’s cry, then silence, Ingrid’s soothing voice. She realized she was sore all over her body from the birth of her son.
Silence?
Why was everything so quiet? She definitely remembered her son’s first tiny cry, then the loud wailing that caused her mother-heart to leap within her. But at that time, everything connected with the birth wasn’t over, and now the house was so still. Nothing but the cool breeze ruffling the curtains.
Lorinda remembered Ingrid cooing to her son to comfort him, then thrusting him out the door to someone before she came back to finish looking after her own needs. Where was her son, and why didn’t she hear him crying? Please, God, don’t let anything happen to my baby. He’s all I have now.
What if she lost him as well as his father? I don’t think I’d ever recover from another loss so soon. Was she destined to lose everyone she loved? Mother...Mike...her unnamed son. She wouldn’t want to go on living if he was gone, too.
The door to her bed chamber opened, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. She didn’t even know what time of the day or night it was. She had gone into labor in the evening. Was it still nighttime?
Ingrid peeked around the door and smiled. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
Her sweet tone brought a semblance of comfort to Lorinda. Would Ingrid sound calm if something had gone wrong?
“My throat’s dry...and I’m sore.” She tried to lean up on her elbows, but quickly settled back against the comfortable bed.
“Of course, you are.” When the housekeeper opened the door all the way, she carried in a pitcher and clean glass. “I thought you might be wanting this.”
She poured some of the fresh water into the glass before setting the pitcher on the washstand on the other side of the room. Swiftly, she crossed to the bed and slid her arm beneath Lorinda’s shoulders. Carefully tipping the glass, Ingrid helped her sip the cool liquid. After a few swallows, Lorinda pulled back.
“Do you want to see your son?”
“Yes, I do.” The words rushed out of her.
Ingrid went to the door again. “Franklin, you can bring him in.”
Immediately, Lorinda touched her hair. It must look like a rat’s nest. The baby wouldn’t mind, and she shouldn’t care what Mr. Vine thought about how she looked...but she did.
The tall, muscular man stepped into the room, filling more than his share of the space. Something about his strength made her feel so weak and inadequate. And he cradled her son in his arms. An arresting sight. It almost took her breath away. For a moment, she wondered if Mike would have been as tender with him.
Her baby would never have a father to hold him, but if he did, she would hope he was a man like Franklin Vine. In the short time she had been here, she’d discovered him to be a good, upstanding man who could be trusted. Something that had been sadly lacking from most of her life...until Mike came into it.
“You have a fine son, Lorinda.”
The way her name rolled off his tongue caused a catch in her throat. She wondered why the man had started calling her by her first name.
“Thank you...Franklin.” Hearing his name come from her own mouth was even more strange. It would take her a while to get used to saying it.
When he gently laid her baby into her arms, his hands brushed against her. The first time they’d touched since he’d helped her down from Major and carried her into his house. Today, his touch felt different somehow.
He straightened up and looked back down at her, but his gaze didn’t land on her face, or the hair she had worried about. He studied her son. “Get some rest. I’ll be seeing you later.”
After uttering those words, he exited the room, relieving some of the pressure from the space. She could breathe easier.
Ingrid bustled around, taking care of her and her son. Finally, she stopped and stared down at the baby. “Do you have a name picked out for him, Lorinda?”
“Not really.” She studied her son. Everything about him looked perfect. His fluffy almost-white hair, his tiny lips, the dark blue eyes. “Maybe I should name him after his daddy. Mike’s name was really Michael, but he always went by Mike. I’d like to name him Michael and call him that as well.” Calling him Mike would hurt too much.
Ingrid leaned down to kiss his soft cheek before heading out the door. “Just holler if you need anything. I’ll be close-by.”
Lorinda’s son opened his eyes and looked straight into her face. “Michael Sullivan, your mother loves you with all her heart.”
Tears came with the words, and she let them roll unchecked down her cheeks. For some reason, her emotions seemed to be going crazy. She wondered if that was usual after having a baby. So many things she didn’t know. With Ingrid’s help, she had learned a lot since she’d lived on the Rocking V Ranch, but she was always finding other things she had never heard about. She got tired of constantly asking questions that other women evidently already knew.
Lorinda liked it here, and she wondered what would happen to her and her son when she was able to be up and about again. She realized Mrs. Oleson had been making busy work for her. Yes, she’d learned how to do a lot of things she hadn’t known before she came, but the housekeeper had been taking care of this ranch house by herself for a long time before Lorinda got here. The older woman would do just fine when she and her son left. A pain sliced through her heart at that thought, probably because she didn’t want to leave Ingrid.
How soon would she have to leave? And what could she do? She knew how to keep a ho
use…and sew, but who would pay her to do that? Perhaps she could open a dressmaking business, but where would she get the money to start such a thing? Yes, she had the gold Mike gave her, but she didn’t want to use any of that if she could keep from it. She and baby Michael might need the money later.
She had saved all of the salary Franklin had paid her, too, but that money wouldn’t carry them far. The future lay in front of her like an unknown road, completely hidden in shadows. Dare she try to follow where it led her?
Right now she didn’t want to think about going anywhere else. This place felt so much like home.
Chapter 11
One month old. Michael was thriving, and he was Lorinda’s whole life.
After nursing him, she held him against her shoulder to help him expel air from his tummy before cradling him in her arms. As she looked down at his precious face, his gaze found hers and stayed there. She loved these times when they connected and stared at each other. Their kinship was so strong, the strongest one she’d ever known. Even more so than the one she and his father had shared. With her son, she could be herself completely. He totally accepted everything about her. The feeling empowered her somehow. Too bad that feeling went away when she was around other people.
“You are so precious.” She leaned to plant a kiss on his soft cheek.
His mouth worked around a little, and he uttered a soft coo. His eyes widened as if he were as surprised as she was at the new sound. Lorinda smiled as she reveled in the music from her son’s heart.
“Nothing is sweeter than that.” Ingrid’s soft voice invaded Lorinda’s thoughts. “He’s really growing, isn’t he?”
She hadn’t noticed her friend come into the parlor. Ingrid bustled around the room straightening things that looked just fine to Lorinda. It must have been wonderful living in places that were always clean and neat. She forced the memories that started to creep into her thoughts back into the trunk deep in her mind. She mentally turned the key to lock them away. Maybe someday, the uncomfortable memories would disappear altogether.
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