Baby On Her Doorstep

by Rhonda Gibson

  Mrs. Murphy’s voice stopped him. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  He turned to face her. “Mrs. Murphy, she’s staying.”

  “Perhaps so, but it isn’t proper for you to be in her room.” The Irishwoman’s green eyes dared him to argue with her.

  What kind of relationship did these two people have? Was Mrs. Murphy hired help? Or a part of the family? Laura watched as the two stared at each other. The muscles worked in Clint’s jaw. His eyes never left Mrs. Murphy’s as he said, “Then you show her to her room, and I’ll finish unloading the wagon.”

  Mrs. Murphy nodded curtly and then turned to Laura. “If you will follow me.” She didn’t wait for Laura to agree. Her skirt swished as she walked briskly down a hall. “Your rooms are behind the kitchen. I told Clint he didn’t have to give up his room, but he insisted. It will be warm for the children come winter.”

  If he’d given up his room, where was Clint staying? Not that it should matter to her, but Laura couldn’t help but wonder why he’d give up his room for the hired help.

  “I don’t intend to be here that long,” Laura answered.

  Mrs. Murphy stopped so fast that it took all Laura could do not to run over her. “What’s this you say?”

  “Hope and I will only be here a few months, then I’ll be returning to my job in town.” Laura shifted the bags in her arms.

  “Your job in town?” She crossed her arms and waited for Laura to answer.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m the schoolteacher.”

  Mrs. Murphy nodded and then continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a closed door. “These are your rooms.” Ice seemed to drip from her voice. She opened the door and took a step back.

  Who was the woman angry at? Her? Or Clint for hiring someone who wasn’t going to be permanent?

  Laura followed Grace and Hope into the room. It was larger than she’d expected and felt warm and inviting. A large bed rested against the far wall. Other pieces of furniture filled the room. But it was obvious from the lack of lacy curtains, pretty rugs and of any type of feminine touch that this was a man’s room.

  “Lunch will be in a few minutes.” Mrs. Murphy spun around and headed back down the hallway.

  Grace and Hope toddled about the room. Hope seemed to take in each and every new item that Grace appeared to be showing her. Laura walked to the window and looked outside. A tall tree stood beside the window, offering shade and the potential of cool summer breezes. She turned back to the room and noticed another door to the side.

  Hadn’t Mrs. Murphy said “rooms?” Laura walked across the hardwood floor and opened the door. She was pleasantly surprised to find a small dressing room with a big chair and bookshelf inside. The room also contained a child-sized bed. A chest rested at the foot of the bed, and dolls and stuffed animals sat on its top. It was obvious that this was Grace’s room.

  Grace followed and babbled off something. Pretending as if she understood her, Laura answered, “I like your room, too, Grace. But I’m thinking it might be nice if Hope shared your room with you. Would that be all right with you?”

  The little girl nodded and babbled away to Hope. She hurried across the room and picked up a small stuffed dog and brought it back to Hope.

  Hope smiled at Grace and hugged the toy to her chest. Laura grinned. If Grace was a normal two-year-old, and Laura knew that she was, she’d be demanding her doggie back soon enough. While the girls played, Laura quickly unpacked the bags she’d brought inside. The top two drawers were empty, and her and Hope’s few belongings fit nicely.

  Just as she turned to gather the girls up to go get another bag and her box of books, Mrs. Murphy arrived with both. She set the crate of books inside the door and placed Hope’s small bag on top, then turned without speaking and left. That book box was heavy, but evidently Mrs. Murphy was stronger than she’d first appeared.

  As a schoolteacher, Laura occasionally dealt with unhappy parents and decided to treat Mrs. Murphy as one. The older woman made it more than obvious that she wasn’t happy with Clint’s choice in nannies. But what choice had he had? It wasn’t like there were a slew of unmarried women about who needed a job out in the middle of nowhere. Laura put away the remaining few belongings she’d purchased earlier for Hope.

  Taking a deep breath, she picked up Hope and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Let’s go have lunch, ladies.”

  Grace chattered as they walked back to the front of the house. Laura wished she could understand the little girl, but since she couldn’t she simply smiled and nodded a lot. Hope giggled down at Grace.

  The smell of frying ham greeted her as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. Mrs. Murphy stood at the stove, turning the meat over with a long fork. She frowned as Laura and the girls entered the room.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” Laura asked as she sat Hope down on one of the chairs that surrounded an oblong table.

  Her Irish accent filled the kitchen with authority. “No, my job is to cook. Yours is to take care of Grace.”

  Laura nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mind helping out.”

  Mrs. Murphy turned from the stove. She shook the fork at her. “If you want to help, keep the children out of my kitchen until you are called.”

  So that was how it was going to be. Laura tilted her head to the side and studied the older woman. Why was she so unhappy? Had she hoped Clint couldn’t find a nanny? If so, why not? Or, was she simply worried Laura would become even more important to Clint and Grace and she wouldn’t be needed? Or, as she’d thought earlier, was she angry that Clint had hired a temporary nanny and not a full-time one?

  Mrs. Murphy dropped her eyes and returned to the sizzling ham.

  “Come along, girls.” If Mrs. Murphy didn’t want her in the kitchen, Laura vowed not to return until asked. As stubborn as the woman seemed, Laura had a feeling that would be the last time she saw the interior of the kitchen for the remainder of her stay.

  Grace and Hope each took one of her hands and they left the warmth of the room. Laura hated that she wouldn’t be allowed to cook or help out while she was here. It shouldn’t matter to her. Her job was to care for Grace. But it did matter. For some reason, it mattered a lot.

  Chapter Five

  Clint sighed and ran his hand through his hair. After finishing his evening chores, he found Mrs. Murphy waiting on the porch for him. She sat in one of the two rockers. He greeted her kindly. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy.” He was bone-tired, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed.

  He’d stayed close to the house all day and tried to make the arrival of another woman easy on Mrs. Murphy. It didn’t make sense that she was upset with the arrangement. She was the one who had insisted on him getting a nanny for Grace. But it was obvious that the Irishwoman wasn’t happy.

  “You have got to talk to that woman.”

  Clint blew air out of his lungs before asking, “About?”

  “Leaving in the morning and getting another job.”

  Was the woman insane? They needed Laura, and from what he’d witnessed throughout the day, Grace liked her. “Look, Mrs. Murphy. I’m not firing Mrs. Lee. You said you didn’t want to take care of Grace, so I went to town and got a nanny. Now you are upset that I did as you asked. What is it that has you all riled up?”

  Mrs. Murphy rocked the rocking chair even harder. “She brought another child in the house. I told you I didn’t want children underfoot. I’m too old for such shenanigans.”

  “You aren’t that old and they won’t be underfoot. Mrs. Lee will be taking care of them.” His frustration and tiredness was making him sound crankier than an old bull.

  “She wanted to help in the kitchen at lunch, and you heard her after supper. She offered to clean off the table.” Mrs. Murphy continued sewing on either an item of clothing or a quilt.

  Clint wasn’t sure which and he really didn’t care. He
grumbled, “I don’t see the problem. Most women would be happy to have added help.”

  Her head came up so quickly, Clint feared she’d snap her neck. “I don’t want help. I’m quite capable of running the household and cooking meals.”

  Clint pushed away from the porch post he’d been leaning on. “I’ll talk to her and make sure she knows that you don’t want or need her help. But I am not firing her. Grace likes Mrs. Lee. That’s reason enough to keep her on.”

  Mrs. Murphy huffed. “I imagine it don’t hurt that she’s a pretty little thing, either.”

  He stopped at the door. “Mrs. Lee’s looks have nothing to do with her taking care of Grace.” Clint yawned and opened the door. He heard Mrs. Murphy muttering behind him but chose to ignore her.

  Making his way across the room, Clint tried to figure out what the real reason was that Mrs. Murphy didn’t like Laura. It couldn’t be that she’d brought Hope. As far as he could tell, the schoolteacher only wanted to help. She’d taken care of both the little girls’ plates during supper and offered to help Mrs. Murphy with the cleanup. It looked to him as though the two women should be getting along swimmingly.

  He entered his room and pulled his boots off. It was times like these that he missed his wife and ma. Before his ma’s death, the two women had gotten along like sisters. He’d guess that Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Lee were about the same ages as his ma and wife. So why couldn’t they get along as well?

  Clint pulled on a fresh pair of socks and then walked the short distance to his old bedroom. Proper or not, he intended to say good-night to Grace. Just as he got to the door, it opened and Laura stepped out, holding Grace on her hip.

  “Papa!” Grace held her arms out to him. His normally cheerful child had tearstains on her cheeks.

  He took her in his arms and looked to Laura over the little girl’s head. Clint stroked Grace’s tiny back. “What’s wrong, Gracie?”

  Laura answered, “She is missing you. Is this the first time she’s slept without you in the room next to her?”

  Clint nodded. He pulled Grace back and looked into her sad eyes. “Gracie, did you think I wouldn’t come say good-night?”

  The little girl nodded, and fresh tears began silently flowing down her face once more. Grace tucked a tiny index finger between her lips and sucked on it, a sure sign she was distressed.

  “Baby, I will always say good-night when I’m home.” He cuddled his daughter against his chest. What was he going to do? It wasn’t proper for him to enter Laura’s room, but to put Grace back to bed, he’d need to do just that.

  As if sensing his dilemma, Laura spoke. “Mr. Shepard, if I might make a suggestion.” Laura laid a soft hand against his forearm.

  He nodded, noticing for the first time that Laura’s hair hung about her shoulders in what looked like a soft cloud. Her pretty eyes studied his face for several moments, and then she continued.

  “Perhaps I should sleep in your room tonight and you return to your old room. That way you will be close to Grace. Hope and I will sleep in your new room tonight, and tomorrow we can make the switch. Since I’m not staying long, it’s only fair to the child that we not disrupt her routine any more than necessary.”

  Clint frowned. If he understood correctly, she wanted him to take his room back, and she and Hope would take the guest room down the hall. The way she’d said it sounded confusing, but he thought he understood. “I don’t know.”

  Laura’s sweet soft laughter filled him. “Well, I do. I’ll get Hope, and then you can show us our new quarters.” She turned and left him standing in the hallway, hugging Grace and feeling perplexed. What was it with bossy women? Between Laura Lee and Mrs. Murphy, he had lost all control over his household.

  * * *

  The next morning, Clint felt like a million dollars as he walked down the hall toward breakfast. For the first time in several days he’d slept well. The sun hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Grace slept soundly in her little bed. Life was good.

  Laura had been right the night before when she’d told him both he and Grace would sleep better with him in his room. He’d shown her to the spare bedroom where she carried an already sleeping Hope and placed her on the bed. She’d assured him she’d sleep fine with the child, but his plans today were to make the child a bed of her own. It wouldn’t take much, just a little wood and some nails, and he’d have a bed like Grace’s ready before nightfall.

  He entered the kitchen. The smell of bacon, eggs and fresh coffee filled the warm space. “Good morning, Mrs. Murphy.”

  She nodded in his direction. “Hope you slept well last night.”

  “I did.” Clint contemplated telling her that he and Laura had exchanged bedrooms the night before, but then felt it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with her. It might seem cowardly to some, but he’d let Laura handle any questions the older woman might have.

  “Well, I still think it was a bad idea to sleep away from our Grace. She probably didn’t sleep nearly as soundly as you did.”

  He chuckled. “The child probably slept better than you think.” Clint should correct her, but dab nab it, this was his home, and he didn’t have to answer to his housekeeper.

  A moment of remorse hit him like an old mule’s kick. Mrs. Murphy wasn’t just a housekeeper. During the last two years, she’d stuck with him, kept him and Grace fed and cleaned. First, she’d taken care of his late wife and then them. She deserved to know what had happened the night before. “You can rest your mind regarding the child. Mrs. Lee and I exchanged rooms last night. Grace wasn’t taking to my not being there.”

  A grin formed on the older woman’s face. “Good. That woman might have some sense after all.”

  “Well, that wasn’t the nicest thing to say about Mrs. Lee. She’s very intelligent, kind and thoughtful.” He picked up his favorite cup and filled it with coffee.

  She turned back to the stove and pulled out fresh biscuits. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair to the schoolteacher. I’ll do better.”

  “MumMum!”

  How long had Laura been standing in the doorway with Grace and Hope? Had she heard his defense of her? Or Mrs. Murphy’s declaration to treat her differently?

  Nothing on her face gave away her thoughts or feelings. Laura asked, “Is breakfast served in here or the main room?”

  Mrs. Murphy hugged Grace against her leg. “Breakfast is always in here.”

  Laura’s eyes widened. Was she surprised that the other woman could speak in a nice, calm voice? Or that breakfast was always in the kitchen?

  Clint shook his head and walked to the table. He placed his cup on the wood and knelt beside the table for his morning hug from his Gracie. It might look strange to Laura Lee, but he didn’t care.

  Grace saw him and quickly released Mrs. Murphy. Her little chubby legs carried her to Clint. He grabbed her close and hugged. This was his favorite time of the morning.

  Hope watched.

  Clint extended an arm out to the little girl. Like Grace, her real mother was gone. Did the little girl understand? Or was she too young to realize that she’d been given away like a freshly made cake?

  The little girl toddled over to him. She fell into his embrace and giggled along with Grace.

  His gaze met Laura’s. Her eyes seemed softer, as if cushioned with unshed tears. Were her thoughts on the fact that Hope’s mother and father were missing?

  From the looks of things, Hope needed a father figure, and Laura needed a friend. The silly thought came to him that he’d be here for both of them for as long as they needed him.

  Clint gently released the girls and stood. The two girls looked up at him. He placed each of them on to a chair at the kitchen table, very aware that the two women watched his every move. He took a sip of coffee, and the bitterness coated his tongue. What had he gotten himself into, with four ladies in his house and not one man to
help him muddle through the awkward times?

  * * *

  A couple of days later, Laura stood back and watched the girls splash water at each other. They both had smelled like hot little puppies when she’d decided they needed a good scrubbing. She glanced up to see Mrs. Murphy standing in the kitchen doorway.

  Dread filled her. The other woman hadn’t been mean, but she’d definitely been rude on more than one occasion. Laura put a smile on her face and said, “I hope you don’t mind. The girls needed a good bath.”

  Mrs. Murphy returned her smile. “As long as you clean up after them, I’m fine with them taking a bath. My husband used to say, ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’” She chuckled. “I think the dear soul really believed that one was in the Bible.”

  Laura couldn’t help but grin at the familiar saying. “I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy in here.”

  The other woman waved her hand. “There isn’t any rush.” She came farther into the kitchen. “I just came in to stir the beans and ham hock.” She laid a worn Bible on the kitchen table.

  It was good to see that the Irishwoman read from the book. Laura Lee held her own Bible study every morning before the children awoke. She didn’t believe she would survive a day without reading the Word first thing.

  The little girls played happily in the water. Their big eyes and smiles filled their tiny faces. This was the first time Clint had been gone from the house all day. Laura had worried Grace would fret, but the little girl hadn’t.

  The fragrance of ham filled the kitchen. Laura thought about mentioning that she could make a mean pan of cornbread to go with the beans and ham hock, but changed her mind. It had been a long time since she’d cooked, and over the last few days she’d learned that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t the sort who would let another woman work in her kitchen.

  Mrs. Murphy replaced the lid on the bean pot, sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched the girls. “Which do you think I should make? Biscuits or corn bread?” She didn’t take her eyes off the children.