Eleanor’s eyes, looking at him in terror. Martin thought his heart would tear loose in chest. Why wouldn’t he frighten his daughter, showing up like this when she was ill? He was a complete stranger to her.
Chelle picked the baby up, wet a cloth in the basin on the nightstand and laid it on the back of Leah’s neck. In familiar arms, Leah stopped screaming. Martin laid his hand on the baby’s back and felt the scorching heat radiating from her. His palm covered Leah from shoulder to shoulder. She looked to be a sturdy little thing, but she was too young and small to fight for long against a fever like this. “Haven’t you sent for the doctor, Caroline?”
“Aye, of course we have, but he’s out on a call. His wife said she’d give him the message as soon as he got in.”
Martin wanted a target for his fear and anger, but he knew the McShannons had cared for Leah as if she were their own. He was the one who’d neglected her. He tried to speak around the lump in his throat and couldn’t.
Caroline took him firmly by the arm. “Come downstairs and wait for Doctor Halstead, Martin.”
With a last look at Chelle cradling his daughter, he let Caroline lead him from the room.
Colin and Jack arrived home from a job on one of the farms, laughing and bantering. Their laughter died when they saw Martin there and Caroline’s grave face. Jack crossed the room and put his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “Is something the matter with Leah, then?”
“She’s running a high fever. Jack, will you run round to the surgery and find out what’s keeping Doctor Halstead?”
“Aye, I won’t be long.” Jack hurried out again.
Martin slumped on the kitchen sofa, rested his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands. By the stove, Colin and Caroline spoke quietly, their voices too low for him to follow. Then Martin heard the clink of glass, the sound of pouring liquid, followed by Colin’s voice. “Here, Martin, I think you could use this.”
The fragrance of good whiskey made him look up. Colin sat beside him, his thin hand surprisingly strong as it gripped Martin’s shoulder. “Doctor Halstead will be here soon. Don’t think the worst, lad, it won’t help.”
Martin turned away from the sympathy on the older man’s face. He didn’t deserve it. “I can’t lose Leah, Colin. I haven’t had time to get to know her. I haven’t taken the time to get to know her.”
Colin swirled the whiskey in his glass, then gave his head a rueful shake. “Sometimes we’re selfish when we’re hurting. I’ve got a son caught up in the war at home when he might have been safely out of it if I’d said or done some things differently. And Chelle might have married if I hadn’t made myself unpopular with my opinions on the war and the Confederacy, but I did, and she and her young man broke things off because of it. Maybe I did the right thing and maybe I didn’t, but what’s done is done.”
So Chelle had been disappointed in love. Fool, it’s no concern of yours. A glowing young lass like her, with that figure and those eyes—she likely had her pick of the men. And Martin had no right to be thinking of her that way, least of all now. He fisted his hands in an instinctive response as if he could use them to battle the illness menacing his little daughter.
“Aye, but you were a father to your children when they were small. What if I don’t get a chance to be a father to Leah? I’ve turned my back on her, on Eleanor’s and my daughter.”
Colin downed his drink and gave Martin’s shoulder a bracing squeeze. “Yes, but you’re here now when she needs you. You’re being a father to her right now. Don’t think on it, Martin. Just hope.”
* * *
Jack returned with the news that Doctor Halstead couldn’t leave his current patient and didn’t expect to be home until morning.
“Not that he could do much more than we’re doing,” Caroline said. She filled the kettle and set it back on the stove with a clatter. “We’ll just have to wait.”
Martin rose and climbed the stairs. His shaky hand fumbled with the knob as he opened the bedroom door. Chelle sat in the rocker with Leah, humming quietly as she rocked the baby. Afraid he’d upset his daughter again, Martin stayed in the shadows as he crossed the room.
Chelle looked up at him as he stopped beside her. “There isn’t any change. Is the doctor coming?”
“Not before morning.” Martin laid a tentative hand on Leah’s hot little back. He didn’t want to frighten her again, but he had to touch her. When she whimpered and pulled away, he retreated to the bed against the wall. From there, all he could see of Chelle and the baby was a gently rocking silhouette in the dim lamplight.
“I want to stay here with her.”
He braced himself for an argument. He got simple acceptance.
“Of course you do.”
She humbled him. Whatever she might have thought of him before tonight, she was willing to give him a chance. He’d learned from her father that Chelle had reason to be bitter, too, but he also saw that she had strength, a kind of strength Martin hadn’t been able to find through his own grief. “You’re one who looks for the best in people, aren’t you, lass? Even in me, as a father?”
“Yes, I am.” The silhouette shifted as she ran her hand over Leah’s back. “You might like me to think otherwise, but you aren’t the sort of man who has no feelings for his child.”
“Nay, I suppose not.” In the concealing shadows, the words seemed to say themselves. “When Eleanor found out she was going to be a mother she was beyond pleased, and I wasn’t far behind her. She was an only child as I am. We wanted a big family.” Since her death, Martin hadn’t allowed himself to think of those months when Eleanor was expecting, the happiest he expected ever to know.
Chelle stopped rocking and turned toward him. “Mr. Rainnie, I think you need Leah as much, maybe more, than she needs you.”
“It isn’t that simple, lass. I’ve got a farm to run, and good housekeepers aren’t easy to find.”
Martin knew how hollow that excuse sounded as soon as he spoke. Chelle must know it too, but she stayed silent, waiting while he found his way to the most frightening decision of his life. “Anyhow, I’ll find someone, and as soon as I do, Leah’s coming home where she belongs.”
Holding Leah close, Chelle rose. She took a step toward him, then another, until she could see his face clearly. A smile tugged at her lips. “Get some sleep, Mr. Rainnie. I’ll wake you if there’s any change in her. You’ll need your strength if you’re planning to take Leah home.”
Martin lay down, mind spinning. A housekeeper would solve the problem of caring for Leah physically, of course, but what about emotionally? How would she cope with being taken from the only family she’d ever known? Jean was needed at home, but perhaps Chelle could be spared for a few days while Leah settled in and he learned to deal with the memories of Eleanor that his daughter would surely stir up. Would having Leah in the house only make him miss Eleanor more?
It didn’t matter. If Leah survived, and she would survive, she had to, Martin would live with whatever pain she brought him. It couldn’t be worse than the regret he’d face if he let her go again.
* * *
Caroline, Jean, and Chelle took shifts tending Leah through the night, bathing her, giving her sips of agrimony tea to settle her digestive tract and replace the fluids she’d lost. By dawn, Chelle could hardly keep her eyes open. Her anxiety hadn’t allowed her to sleep when she wasn’t with the baby. Finally, she drifted off in the rocker with Leah in her arms, but the harsh cawing of a crow jerked her back to wakefulness.
She blinked and looked around the room, its furnishings clearly visible now in the growing light. She must have slept in spite of herself. And Leah…
Leah slept deeply, her little face pale, her bare skin damp with cooling sweat. Her fever had broken. “Oh, thank God.” All night Chelle had tried to face the possibility of losing the little girl and failed. As for Mr. Rainnie, she’d never forget his stricken eyes when she’d gone to fetch him. He really did need Leah as much as she needed him.
The baby didn’t wake while Chelle changed her, laid her in her crib and tucked a blanket around her. Mr. Rainnie lay on the bed, his hair rumpled, a shadow of a beard on his jaw. He hadn’t moved since he’d stretched out there last night, but she had no idea if he’d slept. Chelle tiptoed over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Rainnie, Leah’s better this morning.”
His eyes snapped open. Relief seemed to strike him like a blow. The color drained from his face as he sat up. “She is?”
His whole face lit up as the news sank in. Chelle wouldn’t have dreamed he could look like that. Dizzy with relief herself, she nodded toward the crib. “Yes. Look for yourself.”
Just as Mr. Rainnie carefully lifted his daughter from the crib, Caroline entered the room. Her hands clamped on her hips and her brows lifted. Chelle shot her a pleading glance and held a finger to her lips. “She’s better, Aunt. I was just going to come down to tell you.”
Mr. Rainnie held his daughter close. As formidable as Chelle had ever seen him, he faced Caroline. “As soon as I can find a housekeeper, Leah’s comin’ home with me.”
Chelle’s stomach knotted when her aunt’s mouth drew into a thin line. Caroline could be as stubborn as Mr. Rainnie when she chose.
“Martin, you can’t think we’ve neglected her.”
He spoke in an urgent whisper. “I’m the one who’s neglected her, can’t you see that? I’ll always be grateful for all you’ve done for her, but she belongs at home.”
There wasn’t much Caroline could say. After all, Mr. Rainnie was Leah’s father, but she wouldn’t yield immediately. Chelle knew her aunt had little faith in men when it came to caring for children. “We’ll discuss it over breakfast. Now put the child back in her bed and come downstairs. She needs to rest.”
While Caroline and Jean made porridge and toast, Mr. Rainnie sat quietly at the table, absorbed in his own thoughts. Colin and Jack came in from the yard. They both broke into relieved grins when Caroline told them that Leah was better.
“Good news.” Colin scraped a chair back and sat next to Mr. Rainnie. “She’ll pick up as quick as she took ill. She’s got your constitution, Martin, as well as your temper. Caroline, what’s the matter?”
Caroline had been bustling around the kitchen in silence. Her wooden spoon rattled against the porridge pot. “Nothing’s the matter, except that Martin needs to find a housekeeper as soon as possible. He’s decided to take Leah home.”
Jack crossed the room and laid his hands on Caroline’s shoulders.
Mr. Rainnie faced her, looking just as determined as he had upstairs. “Not long after Leah was born, Jessie Mason told me she’d be willing to keep house for me. I said no at the time, and I’d all but forgotten the offer until now. Jessie’s still living with her sister’s family, isn’t she? I haven’t heard otherwise.”
Jean set a plate of toast on the table. She looked tired and a little sad. Chelle felt a pang of guilt at her own selfish regrets. Jean would miss Leah the most of anyone at the forge, having nursed her along with her own child.
“Aye, she is. Jessie likes children, but I think she’d be pleased to have just one to look after instead of her sister’s six, and pleased to be paid in the bargain. Her husband didn’t leave her much, and you know her brother-in-law doesn’t exactly have his name up for generosity.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Martin said. “Jean, I told Caroline upstairs, but it should be said to you most of all. You’ve mothered my child along with your own, and I can never repay you for what you’ve done for her. Thank you.” So he’d noticed Jean’s sadness. Chelle liked him better for it.
Caroline stepped away from Jack and started dishing up porridge. She threw Mr. Rainnie a challenging glance over her shoulder. “What about Eleanor’s parents?”
He shrugged. “I’ll pay them a call and tell them what I’ve decided. I doubt they’ll be pleased, but I’m not sure how much they really want Leah when it comes to that. More than anything, I think they don’t want their neighbors talking, saying they let their granddaughter be raised by strangers. Anyway, it isn’t up to them. I’m Leah’s father.”
Watching him, it came home to Chelle that this was no overnight change. If Mr. Rainnie hadn’t always cared for Leah, even though he didn’t know it, his daughter’s illness wouldn’t have been enough to make him decide to take her home. Knowing that she’d be loved made it a lot easier to see Leah go.
* * *
Out in the yard with the children in the sweet-smelling August dusk, Chelle glanced up at the sound of the gate clicking shut behind Mr. Rainnie. In the two weeks since Leah had fallen ill, he’d stopped by every day, until even Caroline began to believe he deserved to take his daughter home.
The little girl toddled to meet him. Eleven months old now, she’d mastered her legs, and she’d already gotten over her shyness with her father, helped by the treats he usually brought for her. As always, his face lit up with a smile as he squatted down in front of her and touched the tip of her nose. “How’s my lass today?”
Chelle never saw him smile like that for anyone but Leah. To everyone else, he remained as gruff as before, but perhaps this one chink in his armor would widen with time to include others. If it did, no doubt that smile would melt the heart of some local girl and Leah would have a mother again.
Stooping, his daughter’s tiny hand engulfed in his, Mr. Rainnie crossed the yard. He sat beside Chelle on the doorstep. “Evenin’, Miss Rochelle. This one seems right as rain again, doesn’t she?”
Leah and Peter both climbed into Chelle’s lap, but Leah reached out to grasp her father’s sleeve. Chelle couldn’t help grinning at the gratified look on his face. “Yes, she does. She likes you, Mr. Rainnie.”
“She seems to be getting used to me, anyway.” He paused, held Chelle’s gaze. “Lass, there’s something I want to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
Mr. Rainnie took a deep breath as if he needed to gather his courage. “Jessie Mason has agreed to come and keep house for me, startin’ on Monday. So, I’ll be taking Leah home then, and I was thinking the move would be easier for her if you could come with her for two or three days, to help her get settled.”
Clearly uncomfortable with his request, Mr. Rainnie raised his eyes to Chelle’s for a brief moment. “If you’re willing, I’ll step in and see if it’s all right with your father and Caroline.”
Chelle’s heart lifted at the thought of being able to help Leah adjust to her new home, but she couldn’t imagine her father or her aunt agreeing. She’d created enough talk in Mallonby already by befriending Kendra, and staying at the farm with only a housekeeper there would surely cause more. There would be too many opportunities for her and Martin to be alone.
“I’m willing, but I can’t speak for Dad and Aunt Caroline. Come in.”
Caroline reacted as Chelle expected when Mr. Rainnie broached his idea. “It wouldn’t be proper, Chelle, a young girl like you, with only Jessie Mason there. No offense meant, Martin, but people would likely talk.”
Chelle’s father surprised her. “It’s only for two or three days, hardly something for the old hens to cluck about,” he said with a shrug. “Caroline, you’ve known Martin and Jessie all their lives, and so has everyone else in Mallonby. I’d say go, lass, if you want to, and let the hens cluck if they choose.”
Before Chelle could respond, Mr. Rainnie held out his hand. “All right, then. I’ll come in for you and Leah after chores on Monday morning.”
His warm, hard fingers closed around hers. Something in her thrilled to the happiness she sensed in him. Any doubt that he’d be good to Leah melted away. As for the hens, Chelle agreed with her father. Let them cluck if they chose.
* * *
“You’ll like Jessie. That’s what she prefers to be called, by the by. She’s as good a cook as you’ll find hereabouts, and she has a mother’s heart when it comes to children, though she never had her own.”
Chelle shifted the baby on her lap and let
her shawl slip from her shoulders. The day promised to be warm, with the sun burning away the delicate mist that hung over the rolling hills. It still blanketed the river, adding allure to the fine morning as they rolled along in Mr. Rainnie’s pony trap behind the black cob, Major.
“Mr. Rainnie, how long have your parents been gone?”
He gave her a long look. “If you’re going to be staying under my roof, it’s time you started calling me Martin. The rest of your family does. As for my parents, Mam passed on nearly ten years ago, and Dad’s been gone for six.”
“All right, then, Martin. And you call me Chelle.” His name came off her tongue with ease. Was that because she’d heard her family use it or because the distance between them had narrowed since Leah’s illness?
Ten years. He’d been younger than Chelle when he lost his mother. She went on in a softer tone. “I miss my mother so much. When I was seven or eight, a girlfriend of mine said that Maman had ‘charmth.’ Warmth and charm. That described her pretty well.”
Martin glanced sideways at her. “I’ll warrant you’re more your father’s daughter.”
Chelle lifted a brow at him. “Meaning?”
He shook the reins, a hint of a grin on his face. “You look like him, and I’d wager that you can be just as hard-headed as Colin when you choose.”
Chelle had been told all her life that she had her father’s stubbornness and temper, but it surprised her to hear it from Martin. After all, he hardly knew her. “I suppose so. People have always said I’m like Dad, and Trey, my brother, is more like Maman.”
Getting too warm in her coat, Leah started to squirm. Her fussing progressed to annoyed shrieks by the time Chelle got the garment unbuttoned. “She has a temper, but it never seems to last for long. A bit of a storm, and then the sun comes out. And she’s determined. When she wants something, she doesn’t give up easily.” Chelle flashed Martin a smile. “It goes with the hair, I suspect.”
Where The Heart Is (Choices of the Heart, book 1) Page 7