by Regina Scott
Brandon sighed. The Satler siblings were clearly attached to the triplets. So was he. He had to admit that to himself as he continued down the aisle. He wanted to protect the boys, make sure they had good food and pleasant surroundings. More, he wanted to guide their steps, help them become the men they were capable of being. He wanted to be the father his father had never been.
But that meant he needed a wife.
His schedule would never allow raising the boys on his own. A pastor might be called on at any time, day or night. He couldn’t take the boys with him, and he couldn’t leave them alone. Nor could he hire a woman to live in without risking her reputation and his. And there was no one near enough to the parsonage who could take the triplets at a moment’s notice.
Finding a wife, even in Little Horn, where the men tended to outnumber the women, should not be difficult. Ever since he’d started divinity school, he’d had women glance his way. If he wondered about the picture he presented, he had only to look at his brother, who had been Little Horn’s most eligible bachelor until he’d wed Louisa. Several young ladies and more than one widow had let Brandon know they would not be adverse to having him court them.
The problem was that only one woman had ever made him dream of matrimony, and she was no longer interested in his courtship even if he had been able to bring himself to try again.
He made it to the door and bid his congregation good day. But his sermon must have ruffled more feathers than he’d intended, because for the first time in months he received no invitation to dinner. Mrs. Hickey went so far as to rescind her offer from the previous week, claiming an urgent need to reorganize her spice shelf. Mercy Green’s café held little interest either, so he found himself alone in the parsonage.
It was a good, solid house, with two bedrooms and a study besides the parlor and a big kitchen, but there were moments it didn’t feel like home. Perhaps it was the mismatched furniture, donated from ranches around the area. Perhaps it was the lacy doilies the ladies insisted he needed on every flat surface. Perhaps it was the unrelenting quiet after a busy day out in the community. Whatever the reason, he retreated to his study and pulled out the dime novel he hadn’t been willing to confess he was reading.
He had just put his feet up on the desk, with the thought that Mrs. Hickey would be appalled to find him so, when someone rapped on the front door. He set aside the book, rose and shrugged into his coat, resigned to help whoever had come seeking him.
Annie stood on the stoop, face puckered.
“It’s Jasper,” she said without preamble. “He’s come down sick. Elizabeth sent me to the doctor, but Doctor Clark’s wife says he’s out birthing a baby and isn’t expected back until morning. Oh, Pastor, what should we do?”
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth sat on the bed, rocking Jasper back and forth as he fussed. Theo and Eli sat at her feet, toys forgotten around them and concern tightening their little faces. It felt like forever since she’d sent Annie for the doctor.
The door opened, and Annie rushed back into the room. Elizabeth looked up, but instead of Doctor Clark, Brandon followed the girl inside. His face was nearly as worried as the babies’.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His voice was kind, quiet, but she felt the tension under it.
“Mrs. Tyson mentioned she thought Jasper was too warm,” she explained. “When he didn’t want his supper, I thought maybe he was teething. But he’s hotter now, and all he wants to do is to be held. Oh, Brandon, he acts as if he’s in pain.”
Jasper wiggled in her arms, then turned to reach for Brandon.
Brandon lifted him close, frown growing as he peered into Jasper’s face. “What’s the trouble, little man?”
In answer, Jasper sucked back a sob, lower lip trembling and one hand rubbing at his cheeks.
Eli crawled over to tug on Elizabeth’s skirts, and she bent and picked him up. “Where’s Doctor Clark?”
“Out birthing a new baby,” Annie said with a pout, as if the good doctor was thoroughly in her bad graces for not being in town when she needed him.
“But I sent for Louisa,” Brandon added, still watching Jasper. “She knows as much about babies as her father does. It might be an hour or two before she can reach us from Bo’s ranch.”
An hour or two? That seemed too long when she didn’t know what was ailing the usually active little boy.
Annie must have felt the same way for she wrung her hands. “Isn’t there anything we can do in the meantime?”
Elizabeth had felt the same helplessness when her aunt was ill, her uncle locked away for scandal. She hadn’t given in to fear then, and she refused to give in to it now.
She drew in a breath, raised her head. “We can make all the boys more comfortable. Annie, take Theo and Eli up on the bed with you and play with them. Pastor Stillwater, hold Jasper while I make a compress.”
Annie nodded, then went to gather the two babies in her arms while Elizabeth moved to the dresser. Someone had donated lavender water, if memory served—ah, yes! She took out a handkerchief and wet it with the aseptic, then let the material hang a moment in the air. Folding the handkerchief carefully, she brought it to place on Jasper’s forehead.
The baby pulled back with a whimper, twisting in Brandon’s arms.
“I know,” Elizabeth soothed, repositioning the cloth. “It feels odd, doesn’t it? But it might help cool you off, sweetheart.”
Under the white, lace-edged piece of linen, the baby’s brown eyes looked huge and deep.
“Do you think he’d drink something?” Brandon murmured. “I could fetch fresh water.”
“We couldn’t get him to eat or drink,” Elizabeth told him. “That’s what made me wonder whether he was teething. Still, I’m not sure whether teething would bring on this kind of fever.” She pulled off the handkerchief and laid her fingers against the baby’s skin.
“Still too hot,” she reported. “Help me take off his sweater.”
“Ma says it’s best to sweat out a fever,” Annie put in from the bed. “She’d say stoke up the fire and pile on the blankets.”
Elizabeth had heard the advice as well, but she just couldn’t make herself believe it. “Cold water douses fire,” she countered. “We just need to keep him as comfortable as we can until Louisa gets here.”
Brandon nodded. “Whatever you need, Elizabeth. Tell me, and it’s done.”
Together, they stripped the baby to his diaper, then kept wiping him down with lavender water. Brandon left long enough to fill the porcelain pitcher with clean water from the pump in the boardinghouse kitchen. He even managed to get Jasper to take a few sips from a cup. But each time the baby swallowed, he grimaced, until he pushed the cup away and started crying.
From the bed, two more voices joined his.
Annie’s eyes widened. “What do we do?”
Elizabeth was beginning to think Jasper was suffering from a sore throat, but there was nothing wrong with hers. “Caroline said singing comforted them,” Elizabeth told her. She turned to Brandon. “Pastor, do you know a song?”
His brows shot up, but he nodded, and his warm baritone filled the room.
“Summer suns are glowing
over land and sea,
happy light is flowing
bountiful and free.
Everything rejoices
in the mellow rays,
all earth’s thousand voices
swell the psalm of praise.”
One by one, the babies quieted, watching him. Theo’s thumb was in his mouth, and Eli leaned against Annie on the bed. In Elizabeth’s arms, Jasper sighed and rested his head against her chest. Something stirred inside her, warm, soft. It whispered of hope, of peace.
Of love.
“We will never doubt thee,” Brandon sang, gaze moving among
the babies and coming to rest on Elizabeth, “though thou veil thy light: life is dark without thee; death with thee is bright. Light of Light! shine o’er us on our pilgrim way. Go thou still before us to the endless day.”
With a yawn, Eli slid down onto the bed. Theo followed him, putting his back up against his brother’s. Annie smoothed their hair with a smile.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth murmured to Brandon.
He came close, laid a hand on Jasper’s head. “Thank you, for caring for these little ones.”
She did—oh, how she did! But she was coming to realize they weren’t the only ones who had staked a claim on her heart.
She and Brandon took turns holding Jasper and walking him about the room. Every time they sat down with him, he started fussing, and Elizabeth was concerned he’d wake his brothers. As it was, she was surprised Annie could sleep. With Brandon in the room, the girl hadn’t been able to change into her nightgown, yet somehow she looked comfortable curled up beside the boys on the big bed.
Elizabeth glanced out the window to find that evening had turned to night. A crescent moon was climbing over the humps of the hills. Jasper in his arms, Brandon came to join her.
“Where can Louisa be?” she murmured.
He rocked Jasper in his arms, face still soft. “Perhaps she didn’t have an easy way to reach us. Bo might have the wagon out on the range today for roundup. And likely she wouldn’t come on horseback. She’s not a practiced rider like Caroline.”
Elizabeth could only hope nothing bad had happened on the way into town. “Shall I hold him?”
Brandon smiled down at the baby, whose eyes were at last drifting shut. “He’s fine where he is.”
She wasn’t. Something pushed at her, gnawed at her. She moved to the dresser, rearranged the remaining fruits and vegetables in neat rows, then opened a drawer and counted the clean diapers.
“We’ll have to find a way to wash soon,” she murmured, straightening. “Mrs. Chambers takes away the dirty diapers, for which I am very thankful, but some of the boys’ shirts need cleaning.”
“Elizabeth,” he murmured, nodding to the chair beside him.
She couldn’t sit. “Have you noticed? The boys are outgrowing their clothing. I heard Mercy Green brought this set the ladies collected for them when the boys first arrived in Little Horn. Would people be willing to take up another collection? Or maybe Helen Carson and the quilting bee would be willing to sew new outfits for them if we could find someone to donate the material.”
“Elizabeth,” he said, moving closer.
She tapped her chin. “Mrs. Arundel might be persuaded to donate it. I’m sure I saw bolts of fabric in her husband’s general store. And shoes! They’ll be walking soon. I wonder...”
“Elizabeth.” He stepped in front of her. “I know how hard it can be to see someone you love hurting. But wearing yourself out isn’t going to help.”
And that was what she was doing. She could feel it. Her feet and her back were protesting, and she’d been trying to shout them down with busyness. Her legs seemed to give out as she sank onto the chair.
“I hate this!” she hissed. “I want to do something. I felt the same way when Aunt Evangeline had her stroke. You knew her, Brandon. She was always so alive, so busy. She reminded me of a little bird, some part of her always bobbing. Uncle Hugh’s scandal devastated her, inside and out. That terrible stroke left her confined to bed, and there was nothing I could do.”
“You stayed with her, made sure she had care,” Brandon said. “That must have brought her comfort.”
“I like to think it did. She was everything I had. I don’t even remember my parents. When I was sick, when I was sad, the one who held me was Aunt Evangeline.”
“And after her stroke, you held her.” Brandon shifted the baby in his arms. “I wish I could have been there to help.”
So did she.
Jasper raised his head and let out a whimper. Elizabeth opened her arms, and he came to her. Was he cooler than before? Or was she so desperate to feel improvement? How sick was he? Was his life in danger? Would Theo and Eli come down with it as well? Would she lose them all the way she’d lost her aunt?
Please, Lord, they’re so little, so helpless. Show me how to care for them.
“They love you,” Brandon said, watching her. “It’s obvious in how they react to you. You bring them comfort as well.”
He sounded awed, as if she’d done something amazing, and she felt humbled to think she might have made an impression on the three dear boys. “That’s what you do for those you love,” she said.
He nodded, and it struck her that he looked tired too. Fine lines feathered out around his silver eyes, and his smile dipped at the corners as if he was having a hard time keeping it up.
She had cared for her first charges, looked after her aunt and soothed the triplets. Why did it feel as if her greatest need was to comfort this man and him alone?
* * *
Brandon helped Elizabeth with Jasper as the night grew darker, the room cooler. Normally, Elizabeth and Jasper would be snuggled under covers. He couldn’t help being concerned for them now, but he didn’t want to leave her to locate where the boardinghouse owner kept wood for the fire.
He drew a blanket from the bed instead and wrapped it around both of them as Elizabeth sat in the chair with Jasper in her arms. She looked tired, her color faded in the candlelight, as if it took all her energy to manage that small smile. He remembered a night early on when Bo had spent time in a steam tent with Louisa and all three babies.
Where was Louisa? Why didn’t she come to help?
Please, Lord, we need help.
“You’re good with them,” Elizabeth murmured, smoothing a curl back from Jasper’s forehead. The little boy’s breath came out raspy. His eyes were closed, and drool pooled on his open lips. “Did you and your brother have little brothers or sisters?”
Brandon shook his head, leaning his hip against one corner of the bed. “It was always just the two of us, particularly after our mother died.”
She rocked Jasper gently. “Did you lose your father too? You never mention him.”
He hadn’t mentioned much about his family, for good reason. Knowing she’d been raised by doting relatives, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share the pain that had been his youth at times.
But now, in the quiet of the little room, it felt as if those days were long ago, in the life of another little boy.
“My father was a busy man,” he said, rubbing his hand along the smooth curve of the bedstead. “You might think we’d miss him. But Mother and Bo and I looked forward to the times he’d travel, because when he was home, he had a way of looking, of speaking, that said you were the most worthless person on the planet.”
“Oh, Brandon,” she murmured, eyes luminous. “I’m so sorry. Small wonder you wanted to leave Cambridge.”
“We wanted to leave the moment Mother was buried,” Brandon remembered. “Bo and I didn’t plan to spend one more day with the man who’d made our lives miserable. But Father was sick, and we couldn’t leave him. We hired a man to care for him during the day, but Bo and I saw to his needs until he died four years ago. Then we sold out, packed up and headed West. Bo liked what he saw around Little Horn, so here we are.”
She stilled her rocking. “I always wondered why you didn’t introduce me to your family. I thought you were ashamed of me.”
Brandon straightened. “Ashamed of you? Never. You were everything good and bright in life, Elizabeth.”
Her cheeks turned the color in the heart of a peach. “Thank you. When I look back, all I can think is how young and naive I was.”
“And now you are old and wise,” he teased.
Her smile hovered. “Perhaps not so old but definitely wiser.”
Footsteps
sounded on the stairs a moment before the knock on the door. Brandon strode to answer it.
Louisa hurried into the room. Her soft brown hair was falling loose of its pins, locks brushing the shoulders of her leather jacket, and her brown twill skirts were dusty.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” she said, setting a valise on the floor. “Bo brought me to see the herd being rounded up, and Mr. Tyson had to ride out to find us. Then I had to go back to the house for my bag.” She turned to Elizabeth. “What happened? How’s Jasper?”
Elizabeth tried to rise, and Brandon moved to help her, hands braced under her elbows. For a moment, she stood in his arms, and he had to force himself to step away.
Cheeks pinking, she explained the situation to Louisa, who examined the baby and asked questions. Her no-nonsense attitude seemed to calm Elizabeth’s fears. Brandon felt buoyed simply by her presence.
Thank You, Lord, for sending us aid.
“I think you’re right,” Louisa said, putting away the rod she’d used to push the baby’s tongue aside and peer into his mouth. “His gums are swollen and red. He’s teething.”
Jasper scowled at her as if ready to scold her. She smoothed back his hair, and his look softened.
“Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked, glancing toward the bed, where Annie had woken and the other two babies still slumbered. “I wouldn’t want his brothers to be exposed to something contagious.”
Louisa made a face. “I wish medicine was more precise! It’s possible the fever was caused by something more. He may be reacting to food he ate or he may have a cold coming on. But I’ll tell you what, just to be on the safe side, we’ll take the other two elsewhere for now. Pastor, can Annie bring them to the parsonage? I’ll stay with her so propriety will be satisfied.”
Brandon could only be relieved to hear that the boy would be fine. “Of course. I’ll stay with Elizabeth and Jasper.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You can’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”
It was on his tongue to argue, but he swallowed the words. She was right, of course. Some of the ladies in his congregation already had doubts about her. Even after his sermon today, he shouldn’t fan the flames.