“Let’s have the bad and get it over with.”
Before he could speak, Lucas threw his block, striking Kari in the forehead. The baby wailed, Liam threw himself at Lucas in what appeared to be a defense of his baby sister, and Willow pulled Kari to her, examining the “wound.” Before he could stop the boys from pummeling one another with ineffectual blows, she grabbed the back of Liam’s overalls and jerked the boy off Lucas. “Stop.”
Liam stared at her. “Hurt baby.”
“Yes, but it was an accident. Look. She’s fine.”
“Baby cry.”
Her eyes slid to Chad. “Take note: these boys will need lessons in self-control before you give them shotgun lessons. I believe they take after their grandmother in the ‘fire now and ask questions later’ approach. We’ve had enough of tha—” Her face fell. “Sorry, Chad. It was just a joke. Mother would have liked it. We always made fun of our mistakes—what?”
“Bad news is regarding Mother.”
Lucas scrambled away from the wriggling Liam and tried to climb Chad’s legs. Willow let go of Liam once Chad picked up the remorseful toddler and said, “If you tell me she killed someone else—”
“No, lass, no. I just—” He pulled the plastic baggie from his pocket. “Mother’s other journals…”
Tears filled her eyes but didn’t fall. She reached for the baggie before pulling her hand back again. “I should have put them in the lockbox. I just wanted to leave them where she did. I—” Willow stared down at the baby, pressing her cheek against Kari’s head. “Oh, Chad…”
Chad hunkered down on his heels beside her and pulled her close. “I want to say so many stupid things—”
“Such as…”
Though he knew she’d be irritated, Chad said, “Well, I could say that maybe this is God’s way of protecting you from the contents—”
“Stupid is right.”
“—or,” he continued, trying to suppress a chuckle, “I could remind you that you never intended to read them anyway, so even though it’s a physical loss—”
“Don’t. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Want the good news now?” Chad stood and inched his way to the couch, tugging her hand as he went. She released him and wrapped her arms around Kari.
Willow’s smile took a bit of the sting off her apparent rejection. “So what is the good news? I think I could use it right about now.”
“You didn’t start the fire.”
“I—” He watched her swallow hard and his heart squeezed for her as she whispered, “I didn’t?”
Chad shook his head. “Nick says it was a rat—chewed through the wiring.”
“A rat!” Willow jumped up and deposited Kari on his lap.
To his astonishment, she stormed out the front door without bothering to put on a coat. Chad watched from the dining room window as she waded through the snow to the edge of the barn and peered into the rubble. As she turned back, he saw her lips move. Was she praying?
The front door opened seconds later and she entered mid-rant. “—think he’s doing in my kitchen? We keep a clean kitchen! What—”
“It is next to a barn, lass. He was probably in the wall. We’ve never seen a single mouse or rat dropping in that kitchen. With the barn cats—few survived even if they arrived.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, Chad. Those poor cats. Did any get out?”
“Haven’t seen any, but they’re probably still hiding. They move between barns. Some had to be in the new one.”
“True.” She pointed down the lane. “Looks like Granddad is here. Did you call him?”
Chad shook his head. “No, but maybe the news caught wind of it—or maybe he just didn’t know and was coming anyway.”
From the look on David Finley’s face as he stepped from the car, it became obvious that he hadn’t heard. “Can you tell him, Chad?” Willow murmured. “I think I need to go upstairs for a minute.
Chad heard the bathroom door shut quietly as he bundled the boys and led them outside. She’d cry it out. She’d gather herself together, and she’d find comfort in her granddad that even he couldn’t hope to offer. David Finley just had a special way with her and for the first time, gratitude trumped the twinge of jealousy that always surfaced at that thought.
Chapter 207
David Finley climbed the stairs and found Willow standing in Kari’s room. The crib made it look like wall-to-wall furniture with little place for the eye or the feet to rest, but she’d been adamant about leaving it for baby Kari to change someday—something David suspected Willow hoped would never happen. “Hey, girlie.”
Her arms wrapped around her middle. “We lost some of Mother’s journals—the hard ones.”
“I’m sorry.” He moved to her side and hugged her.
“And my stomach hurts—like monthly cramps.”
A smile began to form. “Well, is it that time?”
Willow turned teary eyes to him. “Not for seven or so months…”
A lump welled in his throat. “You’re pregnant?”
She nodded. “I didn’t expect to be, but I am.”
“I thought—” David stopped mid-sentence. Who cared what he thought? A baby was coming and that, well, was that.
“I know. We thought too.”
Willow’s voice held a wistful tone that he hadn’t expected. Was she looking forward to it? Did she dread it? How to make her open up without implying he disapproved—David didn’t know. “Maybe Kari will have a sister. That will be fun for her.”
“Mom Tesdall was right,” she whispered. “We adopted and then got pregnant.”
Her words kicked him in the gut. “You regret adopting Kari?”
“No! Not at all! I just—” Willow’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I would have done something—to prevent. I know not everyone thinks that’s okay, but…” Shame filled her face as she admitted, “I wasn’t ready.”
“What does Chad think?”
“He’s almost crazy with excitement.” Her sigh cut him as she added, “He helps so much—thinks he does as much as I do with them, but he can’t possibly grasp what this is for me. Every day I feel more and more claustrophobic with my life. Another baby is that many more years until I can leave them alone while I work by myself.”
“His cousin has a large family, right?”
“Yes. Luke. Almost ten children.”
“Maybe he sees that and thinks four will be a piece of cake.”
“We had them here for over two weeks. As much as I love them and was glad to have them, I wasn’t sorry to see them go either. I don’t want that life. It’s just overwhelming.”
“Most people don’t get eight children all at once, girlie. Most people do it how you did. One—or two—at a time.”
“That’s true,” she conceded. Her tone sounded anything but convinced, but David knew that his granddaughter would never have made that concession without believing it in her head if not her heart.
Silence hovered between them as they stood in Kari’s room and stared out at the charred ruins of the old barn. Willow spoke first. “Is it okay to have the fake contractions this early?” She shook her head as if to clear it. “I can’t remember what they’re called? Why can’t I remember?”
“You’ve had a rough couple of days, girlie.” David wrapped his arms around his granddaughter again. “I think they’re Braxton—”
“Hicks. Right. Can you have them this early?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but you can call your doctor’s office and ask.” David pulled out his phone. “What’s the guy’s name again? I’ll do it.”
“Kline—Dr. Kline.”
She melted against him, as he searched for the number online. “Glad Kyle talked me into this smart phone thing,” David mused, “or we’d be scrambling for the phone number. Got it.”
“The number is in my phone and in the address book in the lockbox.”
He didn’t bother to explain that he meant she’d have to move out of his a
rms to find it. “Yes, my granddaughter, Willow Tesdall, was a patient of Dr. Kline’s. She’s expecting again and feeling some early cramping and wondering if that is normal.” The woman asked how many weeks Willow thought she was. “How far along—”
“I think we decided this is week eight.”
“Eight,” David echoed. He listened and nodded as the woman told him what to do. “We’ll do that. Thank you.”
“What’d she say?”
“She thinks if they’re not too bad, it might be perfectly normal, but if you have any concerns, they’ll be happy to do an ultrasound.”
Willow shook her head. “That’s silly. I didn’t sleep well, had all that smoke in my lungs, and with the stress, my body is probably just demanding that I take it easy.”
“Then let’s go downstairs and you can tell me what happened.”
“If you don’t kno—oh. You mean the barn.” Willow flushed. “I’ll let Chad tell you. I’m still furious.”
With a description like that, David expected to hear that someone in the Ross family or perhaps a new leader of the Solari syndicate had decided to make a statement. However, as Willow obliterated vegetables under the guise of preparing stew for dinner, Chad told about the cookies, the rat, and the total loss of the barn. David listened, concern for Willow’s fingers growing with each whack of the chef’s knife against the cutting board.
“That looks like plenty of meat to me,” he observed as she pulled a small slab of beef onto the cutting board.”
“I haven’t cut any yet.”
“Well,” he suggested, “the way you’re hacking at that stuff, you’re going to turn it into a finger food.”
“Finger—stew? Wha—oh.”
Chad’s laughter filled the kitchen. “He got you, lass.”
While it didn’t remove the angst surrounding her, Willow did reduce the force behind her slicing. David watched for a moment, a boy tugging on each leg, and asked, “Didn’t you lose the meat? In the fire, I mean.”
“Chad brought this in from the other barn. There are a couple of freezers out there too.” She ducked her head as she sawed the meat into cubes. “I forgot about that. I’m used to the barn—the old one—being the source of all of our food—frozen food anyway.”
“At least you have some…” Even as he spoke, David knew his words sounded inane.
“Yes. If Chad hadn’t expanded—hadn’t built that barn and bought more animals—we would really be in trouble right now. I remember the year the freezer died. I think I was nine. We lost everything.”
“What’d you do?”
“Wrote Mr. Burke. He had a freezer delivered and installed while we went for a walk in the woods and then Mr. McFarland showed up a week later with enough beef, pork, and chicken to last us until the next butchering. That was the most pork we’ve ever eaten—once a week for sure.”
At the longing in her tone, David couldn’t help but ask, “Why don’t you raise pigs if you like pork so much?”
“We did, but Mother said it wasn’t good for you to eat that much—and pigs stink. After Mother died, I quit getting a pig. I’d rather buy the meat from Mr. McFarland.”
“Don’t pigs give quite a bit of meat?” David pulled Liam onto his lap and then frowned as he wondered if he had the right boy after all. “We bought half a pig once—lasted the whole family half a year.”
“That’s right. So we’d usually trade some of the meat for the butchering and stuff—like with the deer. Mr. McFarland is wonderful about stuff like that.”
“Liam” kicked him. “Lucas!” Chad’s voice dropped deep and quiet as he reprimanded his son. David stared down at the boy. Would he ever keep them straight? Carol had no trouble most of the time. Showoff, he mused to his absent wife. You’ve always been better with names and faces than me. Aloud, he asked, “So what will you do about the old barn? Rebuild?”
Chad dragged himself in the back door and let it shut much too hard. A wail—high-pitched and exhausted—erupted from the living room. Gentle shushing followed. He dropped his coat on a chair and strode through the dining room. “Sorry. Fussy?”
“She has a temperature and won’t sleep longer than half a dozen minutes at a time.”
“Six minutes.” Chad gazed down at her, shaking his head.”
“Basically. It changes to seven or five, but the average does seem to be six. No joke.”
He reached for the screeching baby, but Willow shook her head. “I’ll try feeding her—again. It’s the only thing that quiets her for more than half a minute.”
“Half a dozen and half a minute… what’s with doing things by halves?” The blank look on Willow’s face told him she was incapable of getting his feeble attempts at humor at present. “Never mind. Still, I could do a bottle…”
“I tried.” Her eyes roamed to an abandoned bottle on the table. “I thought with it being easier to eat, she might get full faster and fall asleep—stay asleep.”
“Teething?”
Kari’s protests rose even louder. Willow blinked. “Probably. Where’s the brandy?”
“Can’t you just give her—” Chad abandoned his protest mid-thought. He’d argue for Tylenol when they were both coherent. Once she’d found a book that encouraged rubbing brandy on a baby’s gums, she’d latched onto it as a more natural way to deal with the pain.
“Not now, Chad. Please not now.”
“I know. I’ll get it.” He found Willow changing Kari by the time he returned. Her screams sounded a bit hoarse. “She’s been screaming all night?”
“Most of it, yeah.” Willow rubbed the baby’s gums with the brandy and stood. She moved toward the stairs as she adjusted the baby to nurse. “I’ll be upstairs. Chili is on the back of the stove—cornbread on the plate.”
“I can—”
“Night, Chad. If she wakes up again, then you can get her.”
Chad brought his dinner into the living room and settled into his favorite corner of the couch. Willow’s abandoned journal on the other side called to him. Settled once more, Chad read as he ate.
December 6—
Total loss. What’s left of the barn isn’t safe for habitation. Jon is working hard to demolish and remove everything so that it’ll be safe again. Right now, the boys can’t help with gathering eggs or carrying laundry because they try to get over there, and I can’t always be fast enough to stop them.
Becca starts work again on Monday, but Jon’ll be here for a little while after that. I don’t think Becca should deal with that kind of hard labor—dirty, smelly, dangerous stuff. I need her help around here. We have no soap, no candles, nothing we need. We have no clean clothes! I have to buy a washing machine immediately. Diapers washed in bathtubs are hard on mommies’ backs, and the process is revolting. We’ve gone to disposable for the week. Even Chad hates them.
Chad grinned at that line. “Bet it felt good to write that one, lass. I admit, a pile of nasty diapers and nowhere to dispose of them is worse than washing.”
I’ve started a list of everything we have to replace. If nothing else, perhaps it’ll help Ralph Myner know what to sell in his store. Mother’s hand-carved molds are gone. That hurts even more than the journals. I never planned to read those, although having them was nice—knowing that if I ever needed them I had them. But her molds… I used those often. We have no soap. Every ounce that was in the house is gone. Mom says that she’s never seen people use as much soap as we do. I guess it’s because we get so dirty out here.
It’s Christmas and we have very little candlelight. Between keeping things out of the boys’ reach and the bulk of our candles being burned in the fire, we just can’t. Speaking of Christmas, I should share Chad’s brilliant idea. After twenty-four hours of fighting the boys to leave the tree alone, Chad put his foot down. It was actually very cute the way he did it. He literally walked into the kitchen, caught my eye, stared at his feet—one in the air and one up behind him like a flamingo---and deliberately set the other foot down and said, “
I’m putting my foot down.” I still smile remembering it. It’s so HIM.
Anyway, he told me he was tired of spending all of his time home from his police job policing the tree, so it was going up. I thought he meant “put it back in the box and put it away” but nope. I went into the living room an hour later and he’d set it up on a table in the corner. The top had to be removed, so it’s a bit squatty looking up there, but it worked. The boys now ask before touching. I don’t get these kids. Why couldn’t they have done that BEFORE we had to rearrange the house to protect it from their marauding fingers?
I got a letter from Mr. Myner. He is coming the week after Christmas to show us his plans for his community and ask for our opinions on things. I don’t understand all of it, but his excitement for the project comes through his letter very well. I just hope we are able to tell him what he needs to know. It sounds like he plans to invest hundreds of thousands of dollars to make this community happen. I sure hope he has enough investors. People think they want my life. I hear it all the time. But rarely do I see people who see the work it really is and still want to do it. I think part of it is that these people have fulltime jobs. They work from eight to five or whatever. To come home and have to do in just a couple of hours what I do all day—it’d be madness.
Christmas preparation has gotten far behind. Without the summer kitchen, doing cookies for people just got harder. I have to use the oven in the stove in here, and that takes longer—it’s smaller. I joked with Chad that at least this way I couldn’t burn down the house. He was not amused. I think sometimes my sense of humor baffles him.
Chad chuckled as he read those words. “That’s an understatement, lass. Sometimes you baffle me.” A wail upstairs pushed him from the couch, but silence followed. He sank back down and grabbed the journal. With Kari uncomfortable and a morning shift, he wouldn’t have time to read her journal for days. Having gotten behind in the past, Chad knew he’d regret it. The insight into where she was emotionally helped their relationship too much to get lazy about it.
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