* * *
Laura filled her plate. She was one of the last ladies in line, and the pickings were slim. Choosing to share a plate with Hope, Laura noticed that her meat loaf was gone but that there was a pan of sliced beef with brown gravy. Laura forked out a little of that for herself, and for Hope she got a chicken wing with mashed potatoes, gravy and a spoon full of green beans. Two small biscuits completed her plate. Then she walked to the dessert table where she spooned out a small helping of vanilla pudding for Hope.
As she walked back to where Clint and Hope now sat, she wondered what had changed his mind about sitting at the table with the men. He’d caught and held her gaze several times during the morning hours. She’d secretly watched his muscles work as he hammered and lifted wood in the process of completing the door to the barn.
The women had teased her mercilessly when he’d hit his thumb with the hammer because his focus had been on her instead of the job. She’d taken their teasing in stride and assured them that there was no love interest between the two of them. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Yes, she loved Clint but told herself that it was like the love between friends. No more.
She handed him the plate and smiled. “Thanks for watching Hope for me.”
“She is no trouble to watch.”
As soon as Laura was seated with her legs tucked under her, Hope began reaching for the food. “Hold on, you little one.” She put the plate a little out of Hope’s reach and then tore the wing apart. Laura handed Hope the little drumstick part of the wing.
“Tan to.”
Laura smiled. “She’s picking up more and more words.”
Clint nodded. “I think we can thank Gracie for that.” He finished off the meat loaf and then moved on to his vegetables.
“Yes, I believe you are right. Soon we are going to have two talkative children.” She looked to the barn.
“How much longer do you think it will take to finish?”
Laura saw that he was watching Hope as she tried to reach for the mashed potatoes on the plate. “I’d say about another four hours.”
“That’s really fast.” Laura scooped up a spoonful of potatoes and offered them to Hope. The little girl opened her mouth like a bird and smacked her lips around the vegetable.
Clint reclined back on his elbows. “Haven’t you ever been to a barn raising?”
She nodded. “Once, but I was a kid and don’t remember much about it.” Laura added green beans to the next spoonful that she offered to Hope.
Hope wasn’t as happy about that bit as she had been the first. She curled her little nose at Laura.
“Sorry, little one, but you have to eat the green stuff, too.” She tickled Hope’s belly. Laura had given up on eating herself. With Clint present, her stomach seemed to be all knotted up in a tangle of nervousness.
He reclined the rest of the way and put his arms behind his head.
Hope mimicked his actions and yawned.
Laura enjoyed the soft chattering of the families near them. Everyone had either branched off as family units or as friends. She heard the soft snores of Clint as he fell asleep.
Her gaze moved to Hope, who had snuggled up against his side and gone to sleep also.
Her gaze moved to the tables that needed to be cleared and cleaned. Since none of the other ladies were rushing to clean up, Laura decided to enjoy this time. She scooted until her back was against the tree trunk, leaned against it and closed her eyes.
Children laughed and played as a cool breeze drifted about the tired adults. What would it be like to be a wife and mother who stayed at home and kept house in the cold winter months?
She remembered the first year of her marriage to Charles, it had been full of laughter and fun. Giving up teaching had been easy, but then things changed as they always do. Laura breathed in deeply through her nose. It was best not to dream of not working as a teacher, since she could never go back to the life of just being a wife. No matter how badly her heart longed for those days.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Laura tried to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Her own thoughts and desires had put a damper on her happiness at being a part of the small farmland community. She cleaned the tables and packed away the extra food. Not that there had been a lot of extras. The men and children had eaten as if they were at a feast. She smiled, happy that her dishes had just about been licked clean.
“Laura?”
She turned to see Mrs. Smith standing behind her. “Yes?”
“The other ladies and I were wondering if you would like to help us plan the barn dance?” She waved her hand to indicate that the other ladies had left one table standing and were all sitting around it.
“Um, sure. I’ve never been to a barn dance before, so I’m not sure how much help I will be in the planning of one.” She followed Mrs. Smith back to the other women.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ve all had our first barn dances and many more since. We’ll be happy to help you understand what we’re going to do.” She motioned for Laura to sit down.
Laura did as she was bid. Her gaze searched out the children and saw that Hope was playing happily with one of the older girls. She turned her attention back to the planning committee.
Mrs. Smith stood at the front of the table. “Who would like to bring three dozen cookies?”
Several hands shot into the air. She raised hers slowly. How was Camelia going to react to this? Laura thought if she had to, perhaps she could go to the bakery in town and buy them. But would she have time?
“Mrs. Smith? When is the barn dance taking place?” Laura asked before the older woman could press on with her plans.
“Day after tomorrow, dear. And please, we are all friends here, I’m Doris.” She smiled at Laura and then continued going down her list of things that needed to be done.
Laura listened as each lady volunteered to bring various things. So far all she was responsible for were three dozen cookies. Others were bringing drinks, cakes, tablecloths and whatever else Doris Smith thought she’d need.
“Now for the decorating committee. Laura, Shelly, Esther and Beulah, I would like you ladies to arrive around noon and help me set up. I’ll supply a luncheon with all the trimmings in appreciation of your help.”
The other three ladies nodded happily. Laura simply didn’t know what to say. She wanted to help, but she was also concerned about what to do with Hope. “Um, can we bring our children?”
“Of course, dear.”
Laura smiled what she hoped was a confident smile. “Then I’ll be happy to be a part of the decorating committee.”
The men gave a triumph hoop. Laura and the ladies all turned to see that the barn was complete. They clapped their hands, and the children cheered.
Doris turned back to the table. “We better get everything loaded up. Those men will be ready to go home now.”
Laura was amazed at how the ladies all jumped up to do Doris’s bidding. She followed the others and gathered her boxes up and carried some of them to the wagon. On her return trip, she noticed that Hope had wandered off by herself and was standing with a big stick in her hand.
Clint seemed to notice the little girl at the same time because he took off running toward her. Laura frowned. Why run? She had a stick; it wasn’t like she had a snake by the tail.
She followed and saw him jerk Hope up and carry her toward the rest of the children. He took the stick and scolded. “Hope, we do not poke sticks in big holes in the ground.”
The little girl’s bottom lip pooched out and she began to cry. Laura hurried to them. “What’s wrong?” She went to cradle Hope close, but Clint stopped her.
Laura turned angry eyes on him. What did he think he was doing? He’d made Hope cry, and now he didn’t want her to comfort the child? Before she could say anything, Clint spun on his heels.
“
Eli! Get Mr. Smith and a hoe!” he barked, returning to the place where Hope had been playing. Laura didn’t understand. It wasn’t that big of a hole, and what in the world did he need a hoe for? Was he planning to dig and make it bigger?
Laura wanted to comfort Hope but didn’t. She wouldn’t embarrass Clint by disobeying him, but she had a few choice words for him when they were alone.
The other kids crowded around them. They too watched the men scramble about the hole. Soon the other mothers had joined them.
“What’s going on?” Shelly asked, hugging her son close to her skirt.
“I don’t know. Clint just pulled Hope away from that hole, and now the men are digging in it as if searching for gold.” She looked at Shelly with a frown. “Do the men out here do that often?”
Shelly shook her head.
One of the older girls gasped.
Laura turned to see what she was looking at and gasped also.
Clint had a rattlesnake on the stick he’d taken from Hope earlier and was pulling it from the hole. He tossed the snake on the ground and jumped back. Mr. Smith moved in with the hoe and chopped at the slithering reptile.
Her gaze clashed with Clint’s, and Laura now understood he hadn’t been angry with Hope, but scared of what could have happened to her.
He turned his attention back to the hole. His face paled as several baby snakes came out of the ground. Men jumped back and children screamed. The women gasped, and Mr. Smith went to work with his hoe.
When everyone had calmed down, ten snakes were lying on the ground, dead.
Clint walked back to them and picked up Hope. He took Laura by the hand and walked back to the snakes and the hole. “Hope, never play in a hole. Snakes live in holes, and they are dangerous.”
Laura thought she was going to be sick. Mr. Smith had taken out his knife and cut the rattlers from the snake. He held it up for everyone to see. She would guess that it was over five feet long and had been the mother to all the babies lying around.
She looked to Clint. “I’m ready to go home now.” Laura swallowed hard. Hope could have been killed. One strike from those sharp fangs. She shuddered.
He nodded. “Let’s get the rest of your boxes.” Clint kept Hope with him.
Laura assumed it was because he didn’t want her to be afraid of him but to understand that he’d raised his voice in fear, not anger. She watched as he patted her back and kissed her wet cheek. The action thawed out another piece of her heart.
* * *
Clint thanked the Lord that he’d been right in jerking the child away when he had. For a split moment he’d seen the rattler’s head rise, just as he’d grabbed Hope out of harm’s way. It wasn’t in his nature to go after a snake, but this one’s den was too close to the house and barn.
From the look of the ground, the Smith boys had been digging at that hole earlier. Clint didn’t know if it were today or days before, but he did know that it was a deadly spot for children to be playing.
He’d given Hope to Laura and nodded his consent for her to comfort the baby. Then he’d finished loading their wagon and saying his goodbyes. Paul Smith had offered him the rattlers; he’d declined taking them.
What must Laura think of the way he’d scolded Hope? She still cradled the child close but hadn’t said a word since they’d left the ranch. He reached over and touched Hope’s soft baby curls. His heart still skipped a beat at how close she’d come to getting snake bitten.
“Thank you, Clint.” Her words were so soft, he’d almost missed them.
He smiled with relief that she wasn’t angry at him for the way he’d handled the snake situation. “You’re welcome. I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.”
Laura grew silent as Hope drifted off to sleep in her arms. He inched a little closer to her on the bench in pretense of shifting his weight. The sun was setting on what had turned out to be a very long, tiring day.
Her voice drifted to him on the evening breeze. “Did you know that there is going to be a barn dance in two days?”
So Eli had been right. Clint almost laughed but decided it would just confuse Laura and possibly wake the baby. “No, but I’m not surprised.”
“No?”
“No, Mrs. Smith likes to be the center of attention.” He slowed the horse down wanting to spend more time with Laura.
Laura giggled. “I got that impression today. She asked me to bring three dozen cookies.”
“Did she say what kind?” Clint asked. He was partial to oatmeal raisin.
“No, but I was thinking I might do a sugar cookie or maybe an oatmeal one.”
Clint hid his grin. “Since you have to make three dozen, why not make both?”
She yawned. “I suppose I could.” Laura eased Hope around into a more comfortable position in her arms. “I also have to go over there at noon the day of the dance and help decorate.”
“Mrs. Smith is taking advantage of your good nature.” He frowned into the darkness.
Drowsiness filled her voice. “No, she asked everyone to pitch in. I think she took it easy on me, since this is my first barn dance.” Laura’s head bobbed.
Clint scooted a little closer. Soon they’d be touching, he was so close. He worried she and the baby might fall off the wagon, if she fell asleep. “This is your first barn dance?”
“Yes.” She slid on the bench.
He scooted closer and put his arm around her shoulder. Clint relaxed when she didn’t pull away. The gentle rocking of the wagon and Hope’s steady breathing soon had Laura leaning into his shoulder.
Clint enjoyed the sweet scent of her hair. Laura smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, probably from the baking she’d done the day before. Her slow, even breathing told him, she’d fallen asleep.
Only an exhausted person could sleep on a moving wagon. It seemed no matter how careful he tried to be, Clint hit a chug hole of some kind. He marveled that she and little Hope slept on.
Just before they pulled into the yard, Clint woke Laura by removing his arm from around her and baby Hope. He stopped the wagon and turned on the seat. “Laura, we’re almost home. Wake up, honey.” Immediately, he realized he’d given her an endearment.
She blinked her eyes and looked about. “I’m sorry. Are we home?”
Did she think of the ranch as her home now? Clint leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. Whatever possessed him to do so, he didn’t know. She just looked so sweet and innocent half asleep. He leaned back and looked into her wide eyes. “Almost.”
Clint turned around in the seat and gently urged the horse to continue home. He didn’t regret kissing her. She seemed a little baffled but not unhappy with him. He had lost his heart to Laura weeks ago. But his head still told him it wasn’t right. What was he going to do with a warring heart and mind?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Laura spent the next two days in a daze. Clint Shepard had kissed her, that was her foremost thought. He didn’t act any different at breakfast, lunch or dinner the next day. But she felt different. Not a bad different, just different, as if she were special.
She shook her head and pulled the last batch of oatmeal cookies out of the oven. Camelia hadn’t been too pleased when she’d ask to take possession of the kitchen again. But she’d grudgingly allowed it, and now the house smelled of sweetness. So much so that Laura had decided to make an extra dozen for home.
Grace came into the kitchen with Selina right behind her. “Cookie!” Grace begged with an impish grin.
A weary-looking Selina shook her head. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep her out of here. I promise.”
Camelia looked up with a frown. “You have to be in charge of the child, not the child of you.” She shook her head and went back to polishing the silverware.
Hope squealed and pushed herself up from the floor. She toddled over to Grace and fell into her, giggling and hu
gging her. The two little girls babbled. Every so often, Laura made out the word, “cookie,” and little fingers pointed up to where Laura had been setting them on racks to cool.
Laura knew the little girls missed each other. She smiled at Selina. “It’s all right. We’ll give both the girls cookies and milk for a morning snack today.”
Camelia huffed. “Yep, and they’ll both skip their nap today, too.” She gathered up her silver and took it back to the silverware drawer.
“Cookie!” both girls pointed in unison up at the fresh cookies.
“Did I hear someone say cookie?” Clint asked coming through the door behind Selina.
“Well, goodness. It’s a regular family reunion in here,” Camelia grumbled.
But no one heard her over Grace’s squeal of “Papa!”
He hugged both little girls and kissed their little cheeks. Clint looked up at Laura from his kneeling position and winked.
She felt heat enter her face and neck and looked away. “Clint, if you will go and get the milk out of the well, I’ll dish up these cookies.” Laura looked to Selina. “You get the girls up to the table.”
Camelia turned. “I’ll come back when it’s a little more quiet in here.” And with that statement, Camelia left the room.
Laura and Selina shared knowing grins, then went to work preparing snack time for their charges. Selina got them in their chairs while Laura put several cookies on a plate and sat it in the center of the table.
“Is Camelia always that mean?” Selina asked, once both the girls were in place with their cookies in hand.
“Have you heard the saying, ‘her bark is worse than her bite’?” Laura asked, pulling down cups to pour the milk into. She looked to the door. Clint should have been back already.
“Yes.” Selina’s gaze followed Laura’s.
Laura turned back around. “Well, that’s our Camelia. It takes her a while to warm up to you. Just remember to treat her like you want to be treated, and you’ll be fine.”
Baby On Her Doorstep Page 18