Baby On Her Doorstep

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Baby On Her Doorstep Page 9

by Rhonda Gibson


  Priscilla’s face seemed gaunt and pale. She’d always been a pretty girl with rosy cheeks and a little on the plump side. Laura couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her in the last two years.

  Grace pulled at her hand. She motioned toward the candy case and babbled several words.

  “In a minute, Grace.” Laura picked out two spools of thread, one dark blue and the other a soft yellow. Even as she studied the thread, she listened to Priscilla and the storekeeper.

  “I would like to get a bottle of cough medicine, please.” Priscilla’s voice still sounded as sweet as it had two years ago.

  “You need to slow down on this stuff, Prissy.”

  Laura turned to face them again. She allowed Grace to pull her toward them. Priscilla had hated the name Prissy in the past, but to look at her now, she didn’t seem to notice. As a matter of fact, the young woman acted as if she didn’t want to look around. She kept her head down and her eyes on the counter top.

  Why?

  When Grace got to the glass counter, she pressed her face against it and babbled away. Laura feared her loud chatter might wake Hope and shushed her. Then she turned to her former student. “Priscilla Maxwell?”

  A sigh issued from the young woman. Then she turned. “Hello, Mrs. Lee.”

  “I thought that was you.” Laura smiled her sweetest smile at the girl.

  Dark circles rested under Priscilla’s blue eyes. Her eyes reflected sadness as she gazed upon Hope. Priscilla reached out and touched the little girl’s fingers. A soft smile filled her face as tears threatened to spill over her lashes. “She is beautiful.”

  Laura nodded. “She resembles her mother.” She knew it was true. Priscilla and Hope each had blue eyes, a soft bow-shaped mouth and blond curls. Priscilla had learned how to tame hers over the years but they were noticeable nonetheless.

  Priscilla looked up sharply at her. She jerked her hand from Hope. Fear and sorrow filled her young eyes.

  The storekeeper returned with a brown bag for Priscilla. “That will be five cents, please.”

  The young woman nodded and pulled the money from her apron pocket. She handed the money over and took the bag. “Thank you.”

  Laura wasn’t sure if Priscilla was thanking the storekeeper or her. She wanted to talk to the young woman. So many questions raced through her mind that she wanted answers to now. “How about we visit for a few minutes? I’d love to hear about your life in Denver.”

  Priscilla nodded.

  “Warwa?” Grace tugged at her hand. “Want.” She pointed up at the peppermint stick jar.

  Laura smiled at her and looked to the storekeeper. “We would like six of your penny peppermint sticks, please.”

  Grace clapped her little hands. She grinned broadly in anticipation of eating the sweet treat.

  Laura paid for the candy and her thread, then turned to Priscilla once more. The young woman only had eyes for Hope.

  “How about we move to the back of the store, out of everyone’s way?” She didn’t give Priscilla time to answer but led the way.

  Grace hurried along beside her while Priscilla followed a little more slowly.

  When she got to the table that normally housed a checker game, Laura sat down. Thankfully, Hope still slept peacefully against her shoulder. What would the child do, if she woke up and her mother was sitting there? She’d not once asked for Priscilla or cried from being separated from her. It seemed odd, but Laura had always been thankful.

  She broke the peppermint stick in half and gave it to Grace. “Sit down here.” She pointed at a spot beside her chair on the floor.

  Grace plopped down happily and began sucking on the candy. Her eyes danced with happiness.

  Then Laura looked up at Priscilla. She indicated the chair across the table. “Please, have a seat and let’s visit.”

  Priscilla eased into the chair. Her blue eyes searched Laura’s. “What would you like to know?”

  “Well, first I’d like to know why you left this sweet baby on my doorstep.” Laura patted Hope’s back softly.

  Blue eyes pleaded with her to understand. “I’m sick and have no husband to leave the child with. You were a wonderful, caring teacher, and I knew you’d be the perfect mother for her.”

  Laura sighed. “What about your parents?” Deep down she knew they had no idea that they were grandparents.

  Fear filled Priscilla’s face. She reached out and grabbed Laura’s hand. “Please don’t tell them about Hope!”

  Hope stirred but didn’t wake. Laura gently removed her hand from Priscilla’s and patted the little girl’s back. “Priscilla, they already know someone left her on my porch. The whole town knows.”

  She folded her hands on top of the table. “Yes, but they don’t know she’s mine.”

  “Maybe you should tell me the whole story. I can’t imagine your parents not wanting to know about their grandchild, and now that I know, I feel you should tell them.”

  Tears ran down Priscilla’s cheeks when she looked up. “When I left here, I thought I knew everything, but I was wrong. Art school is fun but not everyone that attends is nice.” She coughed.

  Laura wanted to comfort her but knew she couldn’t, at least not until she’d heard the whole story.

  Priscilla pulled a white handkerchief from her sleeve and coughed again. “I fell in love with a man named Jerry Roberts. He swept me off my feet and married me within a month. Only after Hope was born, he turned mean. He wanted me to write my folks and tell them they couldn’t see her without paying him to do so.” She coughed again.

  Laura saw specks of red in the handkerchief before Priscilla folded it up. The young woman wasn’t simply sick, she was very sick from a lung disease called tuberculosis. She’d read about it in one of her science books. As far as she knew, there was no cure.

  “I couldn’t do that. I hadn’t even told them I was married or that I’d had a baby,” Priscilla continued. She wiped her mouth. “Jerry abandoned us. He told me I was of no use to him, if I wouldn’t contact my parents.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I waited for him to come home, but he didn’t. And when I got sick and the money started running low, I knew I had to come back.” She stared at Hope for several long minutes, then continued. “I left Denver and returned here. You are the only person I trust with my child.”

  Fear touched Laura’s heart as she realized that Hope’s father could claim her. She tightened her grip on the little girl. “What if Jerry comes looking for her? He’ll be able to take her from me.”

  Priscilla shook her head. Bitterness dripped from her tongue. “He won’t come for her. Jerry made it clear he had no desire to be a part of Hope’s life. He wanted to use us to get money from my parents. I don’t believe he will ever come looking for her.” Coughing racked her body once more.

  How Hope could sleep was beyond Laura’s comprehension, but she was grateful that the child slept on. The little girl was unaware that her mother sat less than two feet from her.

  “I don’t know, Priscilla. You need to at least tell the sheriff that you left Hope with me. He’s been trying to find out who left her on the school porch.” She continued rubbing Hope’s back in slow circles. Her gaze moved to Grace. Sticky fingers played in the dirt on the floor.

  “Will he put me in jail?” Fear laced Priscilla’s voice.

  Laura shook her head. “No, and I imagine he’ll keep your secret from your parents. But I still think you should tell them.”

  Priscilla shook her head. “No, they are too old to raise a child. Ma isn’t well and Papa is too busy at the bank. She is better off with you.” A new cough shook her body. “I’ll go to the sheriff’s office and tell him I want you to have Hope. You do want her, don’t you?” Fresh tears filled her eyes.

  “I do, but maybe you should take her home and explain to your parents what you’ve told me.” Lau
ra didn’t want to give Hope up. Her heart broke even as she said the words, but Hope should be with her family.

  “No, I’m dying. She’s better off with you. I’ll tell my parents someday but not today. It will be hard enough telling the sheriff. I’m so ashamed.” Priscilla stood. “Thank you for taking care of Hope.” She reached down and touched the child’s soft curls. “Maybe someday you can tell her that I love her and only gave her up because I knew I couldn’t keep her.” She covered her mouth and hurried out of the store before Laura could answer.

  Grace grabbed a handful of Laura’s skirt and pulled herself up. “Warwa?” Her little brown eyes searched Laura’s face.

  Laura reached out and pulled Grace closer to her. “It’s all right, Grace.” She hugged the child close.

  Would Priscilla keep her word and talk to the sheriff? Should she go see him and tell him what she’d learned? Or give Priscilla time? The young woman might change her mind and want Hope back. Then what?

  Chapter Twelve

  Clint stepped away from the general store door to avoid running into a young woman who hurried past him. Her blond head was down, and her shoulders shook as if she were crying. He watched her hurry toward the sheriff’s office. Fear immediately jumped into his throat.

  He opened the door to the general store and saw Laura standing at the back. She held Grace’s hand, and Hope still rested against her shoulder. Laura clutched a brown bag in the hand that held Hope.

  His gaze moved about the rest of the store, but all seemed calm. He couldn’t help but wonder about the young woman. She’d seemed very upset.

  Laura looked up at him with troubled eyes.

  Clint hurried forward. He scooped Grace up and asked, “Ready to go home?”

  Grace babbled happily. Sticky fingers touched Clint’s arm.

  “You are a mess,” he told her, tickling her tummy.

  The little girl squealed with happiness, waking Hope. Hope looked about, wide-eyed until she saw that Grace was happy and laughing.

  Laura hugged Hope to her. “We’re ready.” She led the way to the door.

  Clint followed, unsure why Laura seemed so unhappy. She held on to Hope as if afraid the child would leave. When they got to the wagon, he helped Grace into the bed of the wagon, then turned to assist Laura up.

  Laura reluctantly put Hope in the bed of the wagon with Grace. The two little girls chattered happily as if sharing some great adventure. She accepted his hand and pulled herself on to the wagon seat without speaking a word.

  Was she upset that he’d placed the advertisement? Was that the reason for her silence? Martha had often grown quiet when she was angry or scared. He couldn’t help but wonder if Laura was the same.

  His gaze moved to the sheriff’s office where the young woman he’d seen earlier exited. She seemed a little more composed as she looked directly at him. A brief nod of her head indicated that she was trying to tell him something. Clint looked to Laura to see if she’d noticed. He was shocked to see her return the young woman’s nod.

  Feeling foolish, Clint pulled himself up on to the wagon seat and released the brake. Laura didn’t comment on either the woman or her strange behavior. She looked straight ahead as if in deep thought.

  Clint slapped the reins over the horse’s back and steered her toward home. If he lived to be a hundred, he doubted he’d ever understand women.

  By the time he’d pulled up into the yard, Clint felt as wound up as a cowboy herding cattle during a thunderstorm. Laura hadn’t spoken to him since leaving town and seemed to be in deep thought. Her gaze had darted back to the girls several times during the trip home. Other than to tell Grace to stay seated, Laura hadn’t spoken to any of them.

  Maybe she was angry with him. Or maybe she was simply worried about something. If he knew her, she was worried about losing Hope. Had the young woman in town threatened to take the child from her? Was she the little girl’s mother? Was that why she’d run to the sheriff’s office?

  He pulled the wagon up to the front porch and climbed down. Clint reached up and helped Laura from the wagon. Slowly lowering her to the ground, he asked, “Are you all right? You’ve been mighty quiet.”

  She stepped from his arms. “I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  Clint reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth. “Anything I can help you with?”

  Her gaze darted to Hope and Grace. “No.”

  He knew it had something to do with Hope. Clint also knew that he’d fight by her side to keep the child. He’d been thinking about the judge and his decision as to if Laura could keep Hope or not. If the judge said no, because she was a single woman, Clint knew he’d marry her so that she wouldn’t lose Hope.

  His mind worked through the thought that he’d just decided he’d marry again to protect Laura from pain. Clint watched as she reached up and lowered the girls to the ground. Her eyes locked with Hope’s, and she hugged the child tightly.

  “I’ll let Camelia know we are back.” Laura followed a running Grace inside the house.

  Clint moved to the head of the horse and gently tugged her toward the barn. He asked himself, would he really marry Laura to save her from the pain of losing a child? A resounding yes bounced about his brain.

  The sound of a trotting horse caught his attention. He looked toward the main entrance of the ranch and saw the sheriff riding toward him. His heart sank. Laura had known the sheriff would soon be visiting. That explained why she had been so quiet and why she’d clung to Hope on the way home.

  He waited until the sheriff was close and asked, “What brings you out here, Matt?”

  The sheriff stopped his horse a few feet away from Clint and swung from the saddle. “I’ve come to see Mrs. Lee.” His gaze moved toward the house.

  “Mind if I ask why?”

  “Nope.”

  Clint waited for a few moments for the sheriff to continue. “Well?”

  Matt grinned at him. “You didn’t ask why.”

  He felt like groaning. Matt always did have a warped sense of humor, but if he wanted an answer, he’d have to ask the question. “Why?”

  The sheriff slapped him on the back. “Let’s get your horse and wagon put away, and I’ll tell you both at the same time.”

  Clint nodded. “How’s the sheriff business been?” He led the horse to the barn and guided her as he positioned the wagon on the right side of the barn.

  Matt had followed. He tied his horse to one of the two hitching posts as he answered. “Quiet. Which I’m grateful for.”

  “Maybe time for you to settle down then. Find a respectable woman and start a family.” Clint glanced at his friend as he unhitched the horse from the wagon.

  “Not on your life. Just because it’s quiet now doesn’t mean it will stay that way.” He leaned against the barn and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Clint patted the horse’s velvety nose. “That’s true enough.”

  “What about you? Think you’ll ever remarry?”

  Marriage required loving deeply and opened the door for hurt and mistakes. His thoughts went to Laura. He could see himself marrying her, not for love but because she was a kind person who felt deeply and cared about his daughter. But no, if he married her it would have to be in name only, and Laura didn’t strike him as a woman who would want a marriage like that. “No, I don’t think I could stand to lose another woman.” Clint tied the horse’s reins to the hitching post beside Matt’s horse.

  The sheriff pushed away from the barn “I’d best get on with my business with Laura and then head back to town.”

  His voice sounded as depressed as Clint now felt. He and the sheriff walked side by side to the house.

  Laura stepped out onto the porch with a tray of cookies and a couple of mugs of coffee. Her face revealed nothing of her thoughts. Clint recognized the no-nonsense
teacher. Gone was the relaxed woman of yesterday. “I thought I’d bring refreshments.” She sat the plate on the small table that rested between two rocking chairs.

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Matt said as he climbed the porch steps.

  Clint followed but instead of sitting down, he stood at the top of the steps. He wondered briefly if Laura had turned the girls over to Camelia or if she’d laid them down for a nap. Either way, he knew she would have seen to their needs before coming out onto the porch.

  Matt took one of the coffee mugs and handed him the other.

  “I gather you came to see me, Sheriff?” Laura’s normally steady voice shook slightly.

  Matt nodded. “Hope’s ma came to see me today.”

  “Was she a short woman with blond hair and seemed to be crying?” Clint asked.

  “She was.” He pushed his hat back and asked a question of his own. “Besides the fact that Hope is blonde, how did you know her mother was blonde and upset?”

  “I saw her leave the general store, where Laura and Hope had been and saw her at your office.”

  Matt nodded. “I see.”

  Laura cleared her throat. “What did she say?” She folded her trembling hands into the folds of her apron.

  Clint sipped the coffee, aware that Laura wanted to get straight to the point. He wanted to hear what the sheriff said, too.

  “She said she was dying and that she wanted you to raise Hope.” He picked up one of the cookies and stuffed it in his mouth.

  Clint released the air in his lungs, unaware he’d been holding it. He searched Laura’s face for any reaction. Seeing none, he asked, “So, does that mean that Laura won’t have to go before the judge to keep Hope?”

  Matt looked to him and swallowed the cookie and coffee. “I believe so. He sent word that he’s going to be delayed another month, so we have time to sort this all out on our own, if we can. She signed a paper saying Hope was to become your daughter, but she left a stipulation.”

 

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