A Heart's Gift

by Lena Nelson Dooley

  An expression of confusion captured Mrs. Oleson’s face. “Why did she work hard? The house was clean, and she didn’t have to cook lunch.”

  He stood. “Mrs. Oleson, Lorinda and I want to discuss some things with you.”

  Lorinda studied their housekeeper, hoping she wouldn’t find any hint of hurt or anxiety. “Yes, let’s go into the parlor. We can wash the dishes later.”

  Mrs. Oleson took a seat on the settee, and Lorinda joined her. Franklin sat in the matching wingback chair.

  “What’s this all about?” The older woman’s tone of voice sounded tentative.

  He smiled at both of them. “We just wanted to talk about a few changes that will take place because we’re married.”

  Mrs. Oleson nodded and clasped her hands in her lap.

  Lorinda patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re very important to all three of us.” She felt some of the tension drain out of the older woman.

  Franklin leaned back in the chair. He looked comfortable and satisfied.

  “You know that as my wife, Lorinda will now take a greater part in the running of the household.”

  “But I don’t want you to feel that we don’t need you.” Lorinda nodded toward the hallway. “There’ll be times when I have to take care of Michael...and other things. And you’re not finished teaching me how to cook. We’ll depend on you…a lot.”

  A slight smile lifted Mrs. Oleson’s lips.

  “And,” Franklin boomed, “you’re the only grandparent our son will ever know. That’s very important.”

  The smile blossomed until it wreathed her entire face. “I’m blessed to fill that role. He is such a dear.”

  Franklin’s ebony eyes sparkled, and that curl fell across his forehead. If they’d been alone in the room, Lorinda would have reached up and brushed it back. Once again, she wondered how it would feel to do that to her husband. Just the thought made her breathless.

  “We rearranged the rooms we’ll share, and I’ll be the one to clean them.” She watched her husband nod in agreement. “I’ll probably take over more of the cleaning. We want you to enjoy being Michael’s grandmother.”

  “Another thing I want to do...” Franklin garnered both women’s attention. “...is turn two of the rooms across the hallway from your bedroom into your own private quarters. A larger bedroom and a parlor. You can have privacy when you want it, and you can take part in our family’s life when you desire.”

  His words did make the change sound loving and kind. Lorinda hoped that would be the way the older woman heard it.

  For a moment, no one spoke. Then Mrs. Oleson glanced from one to the other. “I knew this marriage would change some things. And I’m so glad Franklin finally found someone to love him...and someone he could love. But I never dreamed of these changes. A suite of rooms to myself. And I’ll get to keep cooking and helping with the house. It’s more than I imagined. Thank you.”

  Lorinda put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “And my new life is more than I ever imagined it would be.”

  And also much less than I really desire it to be. She felt like such a fraud in so many ways. Hiding things from this dear woman. The truth about their marriage and the real reason they rearranged things so she wouldn’t discover it. Guilt became a heavy burden for Lorinda to carry, and her spirit bent under the load.

  As hoofbeats approached the house, Franklin glanced toward the window. Sounded like one rider, and he was coming fast. Who could it be so late in the evening?

  “Ladies, please excuse me.” He eased out of the chair. “I need to check it out.”

  He peeked between the lacy curtains, blowing in the cooling breeze. Thomas Walker was supposed to be with the other hands checking the herds scattered in several different pastures on the ranch. Franklin wanted an inventory of how many beeves they had, and which ones would be on the cattle drive to Frisco to meet the train headed to a Chicago packing plant. Some needed moving to other grazing land. He wanted them fattened before the drive, even if it wasn’t a long one.

  A sharp knock on the front door drew him from the parlor. He opened the door. “Everything all right, Thomas?”

  “We need to talk.” The expression on his foreman’s face was grim, and his tone ominous.

  Franklin heard the women visiting quietly. He didn’t want to upset them before he knew what was wrong. “You can come into my office, or we can talk outside.”

  “I’m too dirty to come into your house, and I’ve been in the saddle most of the day. How about if we just walk.”

  “Fine with me. Wait right here.”

  Franklin went back to the doorway to the parlor. “Thomas has returned from the pastures, and we’re going to take a walk.” He smiled at his bride. “It might take a while. Don’t wait up for me, Lorinda.” No need to alarm them unnecessarily.

  He and his foreman ambled in the shade of the tall trees as the sun made its final descent behind the peaks.

  “So what’s happened? Is someone injured? Do we need to head out to help him?”

  “No…no injuries.” Thomas seemed to be taking plenty of time to choose the right words.

  He’d been that way as long as Franklin had known him. But he also didn’t raise an alarm, if there wasn’t anything to worry about.

  “You know we’ve been trying to find that man...or men…who might have murdered Mike Sullivan...and may be the arsonist. We thought whoever it was moved on.”

  That caught Franklin’s attention. “Did you find someone?”

  “Not really. But the numbers are lower than we expected. Some of our cattle are missing.”

  Not good. Franklin frowned. “Do we know how many?”

  “Hard to tell.” Thomas stopped and stared toward the mountains. “Seems to be a few from each part of the herd... You know, scattered out a lot. Maybe he hoped we wouldn’t notice they’re gone. But there are too many more missing than in other years.”

  Franklin needed the money from the beeves to carry them through the winter. They’d be able to make it all right, but he’d have to curtail extra spending if the herd was too small.

  “So did you get all parts of the herd counted? Will we have enough for the drive?”

  Thomas rubbed his hand across his stubbled chin. “I sent the men in teams of two or three to do the counts. Had ’em cut the cows with calves and then count all except the breeding bulls. Our numbers are down by about a fourth, but still plenty for the drive.”

  “That’s a relief.” Franklin huffed out a deep breath. He started walking again, and Thomas joined him. “When we were out at the RM Ranch today, picking up the baby, Rand mentioned things had gone missing around their place. Stella had baked two pies and set them on the windowsill to cool. When she came downstairs from taking care of their baby, one pie was missing, pie tin and all. Other things, too. Food missing from their spring house, which is farther from their house than ours is. Things like that.”

  Franklin stopped and sat on a stump, and Thomas rested one foot on a log that waited to be chopped into firewood. “That’s the next thing I was going to tell you. All the supplies have disappeared from a couple of line shacks. Everything–furniture and pots and pans included.”

  “Looks as though we have a thief in our midst. I guess the person could be the same one that murdered Mike and burned his cabin.” Franklin took out his pocketknife and started cleaning his fingernails. “But it could be someone else entirely. Were there tracks you could follow?”

  “I sent a couple of guys to try to find some, but they soon returned when the trail led to an outcropping of rocks. Couldn’t pick it up again at either place.” Thomas took off his hat and twirled it in front of him. “I have most of the men following the fence lines to see if they can find a place where the cattle could have gotten out. They’ll be fixin’ any broken places and report their findings to me. I’ll let you know.”

  Franklin got up and clapped his foreman on his shoulder. “I know I can depend on you. Why don
’t you go ahead and spend the night in the bunkhouse? And I’m sure the women can rustle up something for you to eat.”

  “I ate with the men at the chuck wagon before I came. But I would enjoy sleeping in my bunk. I’ll head out early in the morning.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  While his foreman headed toward the bunkhouse, Franklin hurried back to the house. He wasn’t going to worry the women with this information. They should be safe here at the ranch house. He’d make sure at least one or two hands were close-by at all times.

  He didn’t want to risk losing his beautiful bride so soon after their wedding.

  Chapter 20

  After nursing him, Lorinda finished rocking Michael to sleep and placed him in his cradle. She had put him down before she, Franklin, and Mrs. Oleson had supper, but when Franklin left the house, the baby awoke and started fussing.

  Even though her husband had told her not to wait up for him, she hoped he would come back in before she went to sleep. She wondered what had gone wrong. And she didn’t intend to go to sleep until she knew he was in the house...and safe.

  Besides, they’d only been married less than two days. Would this be the way their marriage went? Him going out to do things without telling her why or where he went. Not much different from her father or Mike. Once more, a man was controlling things in her life without her input.

  Lorinda plaited her hair into a loose braid and tied the end with a thin strip of fabric. She donned the white dimity gown with all the colorful embroidered flowers across the top and around the cuffs. How silly dressing like this for bed when no one would see her, except maybe Michael when he awoke during the night.

  Completely ready to lie down, she paced the room instead, her slippers not making any sound on the wooden floor. She didn’t want Mrs. Oleson to know what she was doing. The sooner they got the woman’s new quarters ready for her, the better. Then Lorinda wouldn’t need to worry about what their housekeeper heard.

  By the time she’d made more passes across the bedroom than she wanted to count, she heard the front door open, then close again with a click. Franklin locked the door. She didn’t remember him doing that before. There had to be a reason. What might endanger them?

  She jumped into the large bed in the room that had been his. Pulling up the covers, she lay as still as she could, closing her eyes in case he checked on her.

  The door between the hallway and the room where Michael slept opened, and Lorinda was aware of her new husband tiptoeing toward the cradle. He stopped and stayed beside it for several minutes. Whispered words sounded in a loving tone, but she couldn’t understand what he said. Her husband was pouring all his love into her...their son.

  Tears slipped from under her closed eyelids and trickled toward her pillow. She needed love as much as Michael did. But her agreement with Franklin ensured she would never again experience physical love from a husband. She longed for the genuine love of a true husband. She gritted her teeth to keep from sobbing. It would never do for him to hear that.

  When Franklin came through the open door of Michael’s room into the dressing room, she felt his presence through her doorway. The aroma of heat, horse, Bay Rum Oil, and the unique masculine fragrance that was his alone circled around her, making her feel her barren life all the more. What a bleak future.

  Desires for more than he was willing to give awakened deep in her belly. She was glad she lay in bed. If she’d been standing, her legs might just give out, the yearning was so strong and powerful.

  He stepped into the room and stopped beside the bed. She was glad she faced the other direction. The tracks of her tears on her cheeks would surely give her away.

  Franklin released a deep sigh, then returned to the dressing room. When he settled in the narrow bed, she was ashamed of herself for not insisting he let her sleep in there. This bed was more than wide enough and plenty long for the tall, strong man.

  He quickly fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t snore exactly, but the even rhythm of his breathing filled the silence with his presence.

  Finally, she succumbed to slumber.

  A dream captured her thoughts.

  Strong arms embraced her, and she loved the safety of them clasping her close. Lips touched hers tentatively. She returned the kiss with abandon. Soon they were enmeshed in the rhythm of marital love, giving and receiving a love so strong and so sure. She relished it, soaking up the emotions like a sponge left out in the summer sun to dry.

  They exchanged murmurs of love, their hands exploring the curves and planes of each other. Breathless, she glanced into Mike’s face. Except, it wasn’t Mike! Instead, Franklin’s hooded gaze bored into her inner being.

  She relaxed with his arms cradling her.

  Her dream disappeared in a mist, and she rested in contentment.

  Awakening with a start, Lorinda wondered where she was. Glancing around the room, she noticed the sun was fairly high in the sky. I overslept!

  Something felt off kilter. Why was she alone in this big bed?

  Why hadn’t Michael stirred? Had something happened to him? Finally recognizing the large bedroom that had been Franklin’s before their wedding, she jumped up and ran into the room she and her son had always shared. Peering through the spindles along the side of the cradle, she found the covers disturbed...and no baby. Her heartbeat accelerated. Had he been kidnapped?

  While she frantically threw on her clothes, she remembered Franklin locking the front door. If anyone had broken in, someone should have heard it. She stopped and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as she buttoned the front of her dress. God, please don’t let anything be wrong with Michael.

  She didn’t even take time to put on her shoes before she thrust open the door and rushed toward the kitchen. When she was three steps down the hallway, laughter rang out from that direction.

  Franklin and Mrs. Oleson were there, and as the laughter slowed, she heard her son gurgling. Then he emitted a soft coo. Her heart melted.

  As she stopped in the doorway, Franklin looked up at her. “Good morning, Sunshine.” His smile went straight to her jittery heart. Her pulse throbbed erratically.

  Why did he call her that? He’d always been more formal. I think I like being called Sunshine.

  “I don’t understand why Michael didn’t wake up during the night.” She wanted to reach for him, but he was happy resting in her husband’s arms.

  “Who said he didn’t wake during the night?” A twinkle resided in Franklin’s eyes.

  “I didn’t hear him.”

  “I don’t think he was hungry.” Her husband smiled down at Michael. “We had a good time last night, didn’t we, Son?”

  Confused, Lorinda shook her head.

  Mrs. Oleson glanced at her. “I’m fixing your eggs right now.”

  “All right.” She stared at Franklin. “What are you talking about?”

  He lifted Michael onto his shoulder, and her son held his head high instead of resting it on the man. “I didn’t see any sense in waking you if he wasn’t hungry. So I got up and played with him. We even went outside and looked at the moon and stars.”

  This was almost too much for Lorinda to take in. Franklin had gotten up with Michael, played with him, and taken him outside?

  “I didn’t hear you unlock the front door.”

  He lifted one eyebrow and glanced at her. “I looked in on you, and you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to bother you.” He kept his hand on her son’s back while the baby wobbled in his arms. “If he’d have been hungry, I’d have awakened you.”

  What kind of crazy world had she walked into? She felt as if she had fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in Wonderland, like the Lewis Carroll book Mrs. Oleson had shared with her. Perhaps she was still asleep, dreaming all of this.

  Dreaming? Suddenly, flashes of her night vision flitted in her head. Heat made its way up her body and into her cheeks. Why did she have to blush? She didn’t want anyone to know about that dream. No telling
what Franklin would think if he knew. Another secret to keep from the man.

  Franklin had never seen Lorinda immediately after she awakened. Usually by the time he saw her, the rosiness of sleep had worn off, and the wrinkles from the linens had disappeared. And her hair was combed and styled. This messy braid with curls springing around her face hit the pit of his stomach. He’d always thought her pretty, but a new beauty shone through her today. He wished he had the right to tuck one long curl, that rested on her shoulder, behind her ears. If he hadn’t been an idiot, he could exercise that right.

  “Come sit down, Lorinda.” Mrs. Oleson set a filled plate on the table.

  “I need to feed Michael first.” She glanced at the baby, but her gaze evaded Franklin’s.

  “He’s happy right now.” Franklin sat down in the chair across from her. “Your breakfast won’t be as good after it sits a while.”

  Finally, her gaze met his. She looked as if she were trying to read something into what he said. Then she bowed her head for a moment. After she raised it, she concentrated on her food, only peeking sometimes at their son.

  Franklin set him on his knee, being careful to hold him with fingers high enough to keep his head from wobbling. He lifted his heel from the floor just enough to gently rock the baby up and down. A soft laugh filled the silence in the room.

  “Did you hear that?” Lorinda smiled at the boy. “I haven’t heard him laugh before.”

  Franklin didn’t want to upset her, so he didn’t tell her Michael had laughed a little when they were outside during the night. Just letting her think this was his first time wouldn’t hurt anything...would it?

  “That was so sweet.” Mrs. Oleson came over and bent over Franklin’s shoulder so she could look the baby in the face. “You’re such a happy boy, aren’t you?”

  Another laugh ended in a gurgle. Franklin took the folded diaper from his shoulder and wiped the drool from his son’s face.

  “He must be getting ready to cut a tooth.” Mrs. Oleson straightened up and placed one hand on her arched back. “I’m getting too old to be leaning over like that.”