He changed the saturated diaper, then carried her into the kitchen. “Here,” he said, passing the baby over. “I need to warm her bottle.”
Rose had no choice – Clara was foisted into her arms. She looked down in alarm at the angelic face. She’d never held a child before.
Clara shoved a tiny fist into her mouth, then rested her head on Rose’s shoulder.
Preacher Matthew glanced across at her. “She likes you,” he said. “She rarely does that with anyone but me.” He winked at her, but she wasn’t so confident.
They moved into the sitting room and once she was seated, handed her the baby’s bottle. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, then was gone.
Little Clara opened her mouth waiting for her bottle, and Rose gently shoved the teat in her tiny mouth. Would she be able to learn how to do all the things the preacher needed? The children needed?
She wasn’t sure, but if she wanted to stay here, she would have no choice. She watched the tiny eyes that were watching her. What had these children been through, to have lost their mother at such a young age?
And what of the preacher? He must have endured a lot too. Her heart broke for them all. It was at that moment she knew in her heart she must stay.
Stay for not only herself, but for this family who were desperate for her help.
She looked down into the face of the baby again. Her eyes were trained on Rose, and her little fingers wrapped around one of Rose’s. Her heart skipped a beat.
“She likes you,” Grace said gently. “I like you too.”
A sob was bubbling up in her throat, but she couldn’t allow it. Grace got up on her toes and kissed Rose on the cheek.
Clara began to wail. “Put her on your shoulder,” Grace instructed. “It’s what Papa does.” She reached for a towel. “This goes on your shoulder, otherwise she sicks up all over you.”
Rose didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified, but added the towel as instructed. It wasn’t long before Clara burped then wanted her bottle again.
When it was finished, she was burped again, then fell asleep in Rose’s arms while Grace sat at her feet playing with her toys.
She could get very used to this.
Chapter Four
Matthew stood in the doorway watching the scene playing out in front of him.
Grace sat on the floor at Rose’s feet, and Clara was tucked safely in her arms. It reminded him of another time – only in that case, it was his dear Alice holding Clara. Emotion hitched in his throat.
He was reluctant to interrupt, but felt the light touch on his arm. Was she thinking the same thing? Staring down at her, he nodded.
“Rose,” he said, and her head shot up. “This is Nellie Armstrong. She’s going to put you up in her spare room.”
He waved the older woman into the room.
Rose studied her, pulling Clara closer to her. “Thank you Mrs Armstrong,” she said, seeming a little uncertain. “She had her bottle, then fell asleep,” she told Matthew. “I didn’t want to disturb her.”
He reached out and took the baby. “She never wakes when I put her down, but you weren’t to know that.” He left the room and placed Clara in her crib.
Matthew couldn’t get that scene out of his head. Clara was like a little cherub, and Grace was more than comfortable in Rose’s presence.
As he strode back down the hallway, he shook himself. He would not tarnish Alice’s memory by having these thoughts. It wasn’t right.
Rose and Mrs Armstrong were having a nice little chat, and Grace was snuggled in under Rose’s arm. It was obvious the two had hit it off.
He hoped the sleeping arrangements worked out as well.
The older woman turned to him. “I can put Miss Charleston up each night, if you can walk her over before it gets dark?”
“Of course. I’m very grateful to you, Mrs Armstrong, as I’m sure Rose is.”
Rose looked from one to the other of them. “Thank you both,” she said quietly. “But I have no money to pay for board.”
“Rose,” Matthew said gently. “It’s taken care of. If you look after the children and help with the housework, I’m happy to pay for board and lodgings.”
She opened her mouth and he could see she was about to object. “Please don’t argue. This arrangement will help me immensely.”
She nodded, but he could see she still wasn’t convinced.
“Well, I’ll be off then. I’ll see you both later.” Mrs Armstrong chucked Grace under the chin. “And you too, Grace.” And then she was gone.
Rose slumped back in the chair. “Why are you doing this for me,” she asked the preacher quietly. “You don’t know me, not even a little.”
He studied her. “I know you’re in need of assistance, and I know my daughters adore you.” Grace ran to him and cuddled his legs. He picked her up. “I’m also in desperate need of your help.”
He sat on a chair opposite her. “I can’t continue the way things are, Rose. I can’t serve my parishioners and raise two small children.”
She stared at him, but didn’t say a word. “To be honest, Rose, you are a Godsend. The Good Lord has answered my prayers.” He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t happened along.”
“And I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t seen that advertisement.”
Matthew prayed this arrangement worked out, because if it didn’t he’d be back to square one, and Rose would once again be homeless. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
* * *
“You don’t pull my hair like Papa does.” Grace smiled up at her, and Rose’s heart fluttered.
“That’s because I know what it feels like when your hair is pulled.” She began to braid the child’s hair, very happy with the results.
Grace looked at herself in the mirror. “I look really pretty!” she said, more than a little pleased. Once the braiding was done, she turned and hugged Grace. “I’m glad you came here,” she said.
“So am I. Now, let’s get you some breakfast.”
Rose had slept like a log last night. It was the first time in many days she’d slept in a bed. It might not have been as comfortable as her bed back home, but she still appreciated it.
She’d already helped prepare breakfast for the preacher, and made enough oats for Grace as well. Matthew urged her to eat there too, since she’d overslept and hadn’t eaten yet either.
He looked much more relaxed today, and she hoped that was in part due to her presence. She needed to retain this position, even if she had no idea what she was doing.
They were almost done with breakfast when Clara began to wail from her crib. Matthew took a large sip of his coffee. “I’ll have to change and feed her,” he said, getting up from the table.
Rose frowned. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”
“You’re right. Let me show you how.” She followed him down the hallway and lifted Clara from her crib. She was drenched and Rose thought she would gag, but forced herself to stay composed.
Matthew told her to lay the baby on the towel he’d placed on the floor, then instructed her on how to change the diaper. She watched out the corner of her eye as he stifled a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
He pulled his expression into one more serious. “That diaper will fall off when you pick her up,” he said, still trying to refrain from laughing again.
“No it won’t.” She picked the baby up, and sure enough, the diaper fell to the floor. Rose felt her chin wobbling. This was so hard – she’d never had to do anything like this before. Ever.
“It took me forever to learn how to do this,” he said gently. “Lay her down again and we’ll start over.”
This time the diaper stayed in place, and she felt a sense of accomplishment. “Do you think you can do that again – when I’m not here?”
“I hope so.” Rose carried the wailing baby to the kitchen whe
re she was shown how to prepare the bottle and heat it to the correct temperature.
“You’re doing well, Rose. I’ll be back for luncheon. Perhaps earlier. Are you able to prepare luncheon? Anything you need you can get from the Mercantile and put it on my account.”
She nodded but didn’t feel confident.
He leaned across and kissed Clara on the forehead and picked Grace up and hugged her tight. “Be good for Rose, alright?”
“Yes, Papa.”
He turned to leave, then turned back to face her. “The perambulator is in the back room. Grace can show you.”
In a flash he was gone, and Rose was left alone with two small children she barely knew how to care for.
She sat down and began to feed Clara. Looking down into the tiny face, she wondered if she would pass the test. Could she look after these children in the manner they were used to? Or would she be shipped back home before the week was over?
* * *
Rose lay a blanket on the floor, then placed Clara on it. Grace sat next to her.
She couldn’t begin to think about luncheon until she knew what supplies were available to her. Luckily for her, she would sometimes slip into the kitchen and watch cook prepare the meals. She’d learned a thing or two, and cook even let her help on the odd occasion.
Although not when Father was around – cook would have lost her job in a heartbeat if he’d known.
She stepped into the pantry. There were a few staple items like sugar and flour, but not much more. There was a bag of potatoes in the corner, as well as onions. The onions did not smell good.
The cooler was empty except for a lump of ham. Rose sniffed it, happy to find it seemed to be alright.
“Right, Grace,” she said. “Let’s find that perambulator and go to the Mercantile.” Grace led the way to the back room.
Changing Clara first, they headed to the Mercantile. She dreaded going back to face Mrs Stapleton, but she had little choice.
“Good morning,” Joe said warmly, and her previous reservations fell away.
His wife stepped out from the storeroom, and she wondered what sort of reception she would get. “I see yer still here,” she said, not so warmly.
“Bertha!” Joe said quietly, but not so quietly Rose couldn’t hear.
“Yes, I am,” Rose said calmly. “I’m looking after the children for Preacher Barnabas. He said to get whatever I need and put it on his account.”
Joe nodded. “What can I help you with today, Miss Charleston.
“Rose, please. I need milk, butter, and eggs. That’s all for today.”
Joe collected the items and placed them in a box. “Oh, wait!” Rose wailed. “Do you sell bread?”
“Of course.” He added that to the other items, and wrote them onto the account.
“That’s all for today, thank you.” She went to take the box, then realized it would be rather awkward carry them while trying to maneuver the perambulator too.
Joe watched her carefully. “Let me,” he said. “I’ll bring them home for you.”
Rose was grateful for his offer, but his wife glared at her. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve that treatment.
Once they were outside, Joe turned to her. “Don’t worry about the missus. She doesn’t like strangers,” he said. “She’ll eventually come round.”
He kept in step with the threesome, and made small talk, telling her about the various people who lived in the town.
“I’m staying with Mrs Armstrong,” Rose volunteered.
“I know,” Joe said. “Obviously you couldn’t stay with the preacher. That wouldn’t be right.” He stared at Rose momentarily, but the message came through very clearly.
This town obviously looked out for their preacher, and a stranger, like her, would be watched. She would keep to herself, do her job, then go back to Mrs Armstrong’s at night. That’s all she wanted, and what she would do.
The last thing she wanted was to hitch up with anyone. Especially a man with two small children.
Joe carried the box into the kitchen for her. “You have a good day, Miss Rose,” he said, tipping his hat.
Rose watched him leave, and considered herself warned.
* * *
“Papa!” Rose turned to see Preacher Matthew hugging Grace. “I missed you today, Papa.” She kissed him on the cheek then slid down to the floor.
“Have you had a good day so far,” he asked, turning to Rose.
“Yes, we’ve had fun. I’ve made sandwiches for luncheon. I hope that’s alright.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
“And I bought supplies for supper.”
“Papa, Papa,” Grace said, tugging on her father’s britches. “We’re having pancakes for supper,” she whispered loudly.
Rose grinned.
“Are we indeed? That sounds rather mouthwatering.” He glanced up at Rose and grinned. “Especially considering we’ve lived on ham and cheese toasted sandwiches for quite a time.”
Now she was horrified. “You’re kidding, I hope.”
His face dropped, and she knew it was true. Until now, she had no idea how very lucky she was. Hot meals three times a day – she had been thoroughly spoiled. Or if she listened to her father, she’d been totally ruined.
Looking back now, she knew he was right. She had no skills to speak of, and had never held a job. But that was his fault, and she took no blame.
She’d practically begged him to let her get employment. Little did she know then he’d had her life planned out a very long time ago.
Everything made sense now.
She was destined to be the wife of the town lawyer and wouldn’t be allowed to work. Jonas Hanson wouldn’t want a tarnished wife – that’s how he would have seen her, she was certain.
“It’s been rather difficult,” he said quietly. “I have done my best with what’s been dished out.”
Rose felt terrible. She hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty or inadequate. “I’m sorry, Preacher Barnabas,” she said. “I feel terrible for making you feel guilty. That wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s alright. Rose.” He began to turn away.
“I’m not the best cook, but I’ll try to make a nourishing meal for you and Grace each day.”
He stared at her. “Then you must join us.”
She began to protest, but he waved her protests away. “I’ll let Mrs Armstrong know.”
Rose turned to make his coffee. “Rose, it’s really nice having someone to come home to,” he said quietly. It was then she realized he not only needed help with the children, but he was lonely. He was enjoying her company.
And she was enjoying his.
Placing the food in the middle of the table, she also handed him his coffee. “Come on, Grace. Time for your hands to be washed.”
The child pulled a face. “You do what Rose tells you,” he said, placing a sandwich on his plate. “When you come back, we’ll say thanks for our food.”
They sat around the table, hands linked. As Preacher Barnabas said grace, Rose said her own prayer of thanks – for bringing her to this family in need.
The preacher squeezed her hand as if he knew what she was doing. She opened her eyes and glanced at him, and he smiled.
He pulled his hand away, and the warmth she’d felt previously slipped away.
Rose felt more at home here than she’d ever felt back in Idaho. Since permanency wasn’t promised, she wasn’t sure that was such a good thing. What if she gave her heart to these children, only to have it torn apart?
Chapter Five
“It’s a lovely day,” Rose said as the preacher headed out the door. “I thought I’d take the children for a walk, if that’s alright with you.”
He grinned. “Of course. Whatever you want.” He pulled Grace into a hug, then turned to Rose again. “Might as well take advantage of it now. The closer it gets to Christmas, the colder it will get.”
“Give it another week or so and it will be snowing.”
Overhearing the conversation Grace ran to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and stared up at him. “Can I build a snowman, Papa?”
He laughed. “It’s far too early for that,” he said, touching his finger to her nose. “There won’t be enough snow for another week or two at least.”
“Rose,” he said, looking suddenly worried. “You will be here for Christmas, won’t you?”
He’d taken her unawares. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “I have no where else to go,” she said quietly. “But if you want me to leave…”
Her heart pounded in her chest. Where would she go? It was perfect here, and far enough away from Idaho that no one would find her. Especially Jonas Hanson.
“No!” It was the loudest Rose had ever heard him speak. And the most assertive.
She stepped back, as did Grace. “Papa,” the child said pouting. “You scared me.” He reached down and lifted her up, hugging her close.
“I’m sorry, Grace. You too, Rose. I didn’t mean to frighten anyone. Please Rose, don’t go.”
Grace slid down from her father’s grasp, tears in her eyes. “Don’t go away, Rose. I don’t want you to go.” Her little arms reached up and Rose squatted down to her level. “Please?”
Rose glanced up at the preacher. He looked as devasted as Grace seemed to be. “We need you here.”
She’d been here a little under two weeks, but it felt like forever. It was getting rather tedious being walked back to her rented room every night after supper, but Matthew refused to allow her to walk there alone.
Worst of all, it meant taking the children out in the damp evening air. There was no other option since she couldn’t stay overnight with the family. That would not only ruin her reputation, but also the preacher’s.
She would simply have to endure it if she wanted to stay here in Dalton Springs and look after the children.
“I like you, Rose. I’ll be sad if you go.” Tears streamed down her little face.
Rescuing the Preacher (Christmas Rescue Book 1) Page 3