Baby On Her Doorstep

by Rhonda Gibson

  Clint laid a hand on her shoulder. “Does that mean you’ll keep looking?”

  The sheriff nodded. “I have to. At least until the judge gets here and can decide what to do.” He tucked a curl behind Hope’s small ear. “But until then, she’s to stay in your care, Mrs. Lee. Unless you’ve decided to give her up.”

  Laura hugged the little girl closer. “No, if anything, I want her even more.” She looked deeply into Hope’s eyes. “I love her.”

  Clint squeezed her shoulder. His warm hand assured her he’d stand beside her, even if he hadn’t said the words. Laura looked up at him and saw that he too cared for the little girl. Grace babbled as if to say she loved Hope, as well.

  “I can see she’s in good hands.” The sheriff walked to his desk and picked up a wanted poster. “Mrs. Lee, you don’t need to come check with me about Hope’s parents. If I find them, I’ll come to you.” He looked up and grinned at her. “We miss you at the boardinghouse.”

  She turned her gaze back on him. “Thank you.” Laura didn’t elaborate on what she was thanking him for. It was nice to be missed, but the truth was, she enjoyed living out at the ranch. And now that she and Camelia had spent an evening getting to know one another, Laura felt like she had a real friend.

  “If you don’t have any more questions for the sheriff, I suppose we should be heading back to the ranch.” Clint bent over and picked up Grace. “Thanks again, Sheriff.” He turned and opened the door.

  Laura exited, feeling both happy and sad. She still had Hope, but Hope’s future with her wasn’t secure. “I’m sorry. I’ve wasted the whole day for you.”

  He yawned. “No need to apologize. It wasn’t a waste of time. We found out that Hope’s parents haven’t been found.” Clint put Grace into the wagon.

  “Thank you.” Laura set Hope up on the seat beside Grace. She took Clint’s extended hand and climbed into the wagon. “Do you mind stopping at the school? I’d like to make sure everything is all right.”

  He walked around the wagon and climbed aboard. “That would be fine. Maybe we can have that picnic you packed while we’re there.”

  “That’s a great idea. We can eat under the big oak tree.” Laura noticed several people watching them as they drove through town to the schoolhouse.

  Clint appeared to be ignoring the curious stares. “You and Mrs. Murphy seem to be getting along better today.” He turned the wagon up the small incline to the school.

  Laura grinned. “Yes, we are.”

  “Any idea what brought about the change?” He set the brake and turned to face her.

  What could she say? She really didn’t know for sure. Laura suspected it was something Camelia had read in the Bible, but since the other woman hadn’t said that, she couldn’t be positive that was the reason for the change. Laura shrugged. “I suppose she simply decided to be friends.”

  Clint nodded. He stopped the little mare and set the brake. Laura stood to get down from the wagon.

  Grace did the same.

  Clint put his hand out and stopped his daughter. “You sit tight. I’m going to help Laura down first.”

  “I can get off the wagon by myself.” Laura started to do just that. She was surprised when she felt warm hands around her waist.

  He pulled her from the wagon and gently set her feet on to the ground.

  Laura turned and looked up at him. “Thank you, but I was doing fine by myself.”

  “True, but it wouldn’t have been right for me not to at least assist you.” Clint walked back to the other side of the wagon and helped Grace over the side and then Hope.

  Laura reached for the picnic basket. She didn’t want to admit that she enjoyed him helping her. Clint Shepard was turning out to be quite the gentleman. If she wasn’t careful, she could learn to lean on him, and that wasn’t something she planned on doing.

  Chapter Nine

  Clint took a big bite out of the apple Laura handed to him. A picnic beside the schoolhouse was just what he needed. Yes, for the first time in days, he could forget about the ranch and simply enjoy the quietness of the schoolyard.

  Both little girls were curled up like puppies after playing hard together. Hope’s head rested on Grace’s little tummy while they napped. Hope sucked on her index finger, and soft contented sounds came from Grace as she too slept. They were sweeter than peppermint sticks.

  Laura smiled across at him. “Thank you for today.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Clint yawned. He envied the little girls and the way they could just curl up and sleep. As the owner of the Shepard Ranch he had many a night where he couldn’t sleep at all. Ah, to be young and worry free.

  She spread her skirts about her legs. Then she brushed the hair off Hope’s forehead. “She is a real sweetheart. I can’t begin to imagine why her parents left her with me.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or him. Clint tossed the apple core toward a tree a little distance away where he’d seen a squirrel scavenging about for nuts earlier. “They knew she’d be in good hands with you, that’s why.”

  That beautiful smile filled her face. “Thank you. It’s sweet of you to say that.”

  Clint could sit here all day looking at her. From what he’d seen, she was beautiful both inside and out. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. They’d only known each other for a short time. If he continued on with this line of thinking, he’d be falling in love with her and that wouldn’t do. No, he would be her friend and admire her beauty, but Clint made a mental effort to block all feelings of love. The only question that remained was, could he keep that block in place?

  * * *

  Over the next few days, Laura established a routine for herself and the little girls. She liked order in her life and felt that children should know what was expected of them. They rose at the same time each morning and had breakfast. They played most of the morning in the house, had lunch, a nap and then in the afternoons spent a couple of hours outside playing. Before dinner, Laura got her books down and shared them with the girls. She loved watching their gazes scan the pages. Grace pointed at pictures and babbled excitedly. Hope simply watched and tilted her head from side to side.

  After dinner, Laura and the girls helped clean up the kitchen, and then everyone retired to the sitting room where the girls played with their toys and the adults read or sewed. She loved the evenings the best. Clint often joined them and studied several ranch catalogs. Then before bed, he’d read a Bible story to them from the big family Bible that sat on the table in front of the settee.

  Laura peeked in on the girls. They were curled up on their little beds taking an afternoon nap. She returned to her side of the room and looked at the trunk she’d pulled out from under the bed a few moments earlier. Her foot had caught the corner of it more times than she cared to admit. Laura studied the chest. It was old and the paint was chipping.

  Curiosity nibbled at her. Should she open it? Clint had assured her she could use anything in the room. Giving in to the nosiness, she opened the chest.

  Folded neatly were lots of dresses and a few men’s shirts. She pulled them out and studied the material. Holes could be seen in the fabric, but maybe she could salvage part of the cloth and use it to make quilts for the little girls’ beds.

  Did the dresses belong to Clint’s wife? His mother? The shirts were probably his or perhaps his father’s. Laura realized she knew nothing about Clint’s family.

  She refolded the clothes and made a mental note to ask Clint if she could use the fabric from them. It would be fun to sew something for Grace. After she and Hope were gone, the little girl would have something to remember her by.

  Laura moved to the writing desk that Clint had placed in her room. It sat under the window where natural light would make it easy for her to study and read. School would be starting in a few weeks, and she wanted to be prepared.

 
As she sat down, her thoughts moved to Clint. What was he doing today? Riding the range? Branding cattle? Fixing fences? The jobs were endless for a rancher. Many a night he came home tired but happy.

  It hadn’t taken long for Laura to learn that Clint expressed happiness by whistling. She wondered if he was even aware of it. How many evenings had he come into the kitchen whistling a happy tune? Many.

  Laura leaned her elbows on the desk, rested her chin on her hands and remembered how Grace often heard him coming before everyone else. The little girl clapped her hands and babbled happily at the sound of his arrival. Grace delighted in her papa. Her face and eyes lit up when he entered a room.

  Aware she was neither reading nor studying, Laura sighed and stood. She shouldn’t be daydreaming about Clint Shepard and his daughter. Checking on the girls one last time, Laura left the bedroom in search of Camelia.

  The older woman always had work that needed to be done, and today, Laura thought she would offer to help. Camelia still refused her assistance most of the time, but every so often a job was just too big for one woman.

  She found Camelia in the small garden beside the back door. “The girls are sleeping. I was wondering if there is anything I can help you with.”

  Camelia looked up from her kneeling position on the ground. “Not today, dear. I’m planting beans and it’s a one-woman job.”

  Laura smiled. “Only because you enjoy doing it by yourself.”

  “That’s right. Now go along and let me to get on with me fun.” She bent back to the beans and dirt.

  “Camelia?”

  A heavy sigh was her answer.

  Laura chose to ignore it and pressed on. “Would you mind keeping an ear out for the girls? I’d like to take a walk along the river bank and gather my thoughts.”

  The older woman looked up at her and grinned. “Sure, I’ll keep me ear open for them. I forget that you might like a few moments away from the house. Go on with you. I’ll be here should they need anything.”

  “Thank you.” Laura hurried to the house and slipped into her boots. One never knew if a snake might be lurking about in the grass. It was all she could do not to giggle at the prospect of taking her boots off once she got to the water and wading on the edges of it.

  Once Laura had her boots on, she hurried past Camelia. “Thanks again. I won’t be long.”

  Camelia ignored her and continued planting.

  Laura sighed with happiness as she walked to the river. A cool breeze teased the hair at her temples. She’d not realized how much she missed having a few minutes alone.

  She loved being with the girls, but it felt nice just to be outside and enjoying God’s creations. A bird sang happily in the limbs above her as she followed the wooded path to the river. Laura heard it gurgling long before she arrived at its banks.

  The water looked clear and cool. She walked to the edge and sat down on the rocky shore. Thankfully the rocks weren’t so big that she couldn’t see snakes if one should be cooling in their shade. She yanked off first one boot and then the other.

  They were brown and looked much like men’s cowboy boots. No buttons to mess with and no ribbons to worry about getting soiled. They were perfect for a schoolteacher who oftentimes walked through snow and mud to get to work.

  She wiggled her sock-free toes in the cool air and then stood. The warm rocks under her feet felt nice and smooth. Laura giggled as she dipped a toe into the water. She was going to take this time and simply enjoy it.

  * * *

  Clint sat on top of his horse watching the schoolteacher splash around at the water’s edge like a child. If Laura knew he was there, she would be mortified. Especially since she was showing quite a bit of her ankles with each kick and splash.

  He’d heard her coming down the path and was curious what she planned on doing. A grin teased his lips. Now he knew.

  It was good to see her having fun. She stopped and looked down into the clear water. What was she looking at? He wanted to inch forward and get closer. But he knew he couldn’t conceal himself or his horse if he left the shadows of the trees.

  Clint shifted in the saddle. His gaze scanned the riverbanks on both sides. With the amount of splashing noises Laura was making, he doubted that an animal would disturb her fun, but that wasn’t always true of man.

  He shook his head. Maybe he was being a bit overprotective. They hadn’t seen Indians or trappers in the area in quite some time. Still, he’d wait until she’d finished playing in the water before heading back.

  His stomach growled. Clint pulled a small package of beef jerky from his saddlebag and proceeded to chew on the dry meat. Thankfully branding was over. It was a hot job that he didn’t enjoy doing but knew was a necessity.

  Bull’s Eye hadn’t cared for the experience, either. The little animal had snorted his discomfort before running back to his mama and the comfort she offered.

  His thoughts went to Gracie and her lack of a mother. Just this morning Mrs. Murphy had hinted that the little girl needed a real mother’s attentions, not just a hired hand. Clint looked back to Laura.

  She’d settled down and was now sitting on the riverbank. Her boots rested beside her, and her toes were still in the water. Gracie grew fonder of the woman every day. Had it been a mistake to hire Laura? Should he have found a woman to marry so that the child could have a mother in her life?

  Laura used her apron to dry her bare feet and then began to pull on her stockings. With a frown she picked up her boot and shook it out before putting her foot inside. She was a smart woman and knew that snakes and insects liked climbing in nice, dark spaces. Since she had some experience living on a farm, Laura would be a suitable candidate for a wife and mother. Of course, he didn’t want a wife in the biblical sense. No, he only wanted someone who could guide Gracie as she grew into a woman.

  But Laura wasn’t the woman for them. She’d already expressed her desire to continue teaching. The thought of looking for a suitable mother for Grace had him avoiding such thoughts by gently urging his horse toward the bank where Laura now stood.

  She looked up at his approach. A smile tilted her lips. “Looks like you caught me off playing, Mr. Shepard.”

  Clint stopped a few feet away from her and grinned. “Mrs. Lee, do you think it would be all right if we called each other by our first names?”

  She surprised him by asking, “Why?”

  “Well,” he leaned forward on to his saddle horn, “I just thought since we live in the same house and take our meals together, we might as well be a little more friendly.” Clint waited for her answer.

  She never ceased to amaze him. Her shoulders straightened, the smile left her pretty face, and her chin came up a tad higher. “Mr. Shepard, at this time this is as friendly as I get. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I want you to know I am not interested in becoming overly friendly with any man.”

  Clint couldn’t help himself. Laughter, loud and robust, filled the quietness. Once composure had finally settled about him, he answered her. “Trust me, Mrs. Lee. Friendship was all that I was offering. I’m not interested in romance. I just wanted things to be a little more comfortable between us.”

  Her shoulders visibly relaxed. A soft grin and pink cheeks appeared on her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so stuffy. In my profession, I’ve met several single fathers who thought that addressing me by my given name meant they could call on me after school. I’ve sort of built a wall to prevent those types of misunderstandings from happening.”

  He nodded. As a schoolteacher, Clint was sure she’d surely had her fair share of proposals from unmarried men. “I can assure you, there are no misunderstandings going to happen here.”

  She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him. Her eyes searched his face. Then she straightened her head. “Then I don’t see why you can’t call me Laura.”

  �
�Good. Now that that’s settled I should get back to work.” He turned his horse around.

  “Wait!”

  The urgency in her voice had him twisting about in the saddle. His eyes searched the area for any indication that they were in danger. Seeing none, he asked, “What?”

  Laura pulled her skirts up and hurried to stand beside the horse. “I found a trunk under the bed earlier, and it has some older dresses and things inside it.” She paused as if waiting for him to acknowledge that he knew which chest she spoke of.

  Clint did. He’d forgotten that he’d placed it there, but without having to look at it, he knew its contents: Martha’s old dresses. She’d planned to either repair them or make something else with them and had never had the time to do so. He swallowed hard at the memory and then nodded at Laura, who watched him.

  “I was wondering if you’d mind if I cut them up and made a small quilt for each of the girls.” She pressed on. “Winter will be here again before we know it.”

  “You are going to make a quilt for Grace?”

  Laura laughed. “I said the girls, and Grace is a girl.”

  Grace would have something of her mother’s, if Laura followed through with her plans and made the little girl a quilt. He liked the idea and smiled. “That is very thoughtful of you. I don’t mind at all. Someday Grace will cherish a quilt made from her mother’s clothes.”

  She returned his grin. “Good. I’ll get started on them this afternoon, if the girls are still sleeping when I get back to the house.” Laura began walking up the path.

  Clint dismounted and walked along beside her. “Laura?”

  Her eyes met his. “Yes?”

  “Would you mind telling me what happened to your husband?” Clint wasn’t sure why he’d asked but found that after the question had crossed his lips that he truly hoped she’d tell him.

  Laura looked away. “His heart gave out on him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Clint tugged on the horse’s reins. He really was sorry to hear that Laura’s husband had died. The sorrow in her voice pulled at his heart.