Marnie:

by Shanna Hatfield

  Rubbing the little girl’s back, Marnie looked at Lars, unsure what was wrong or what to do to make it better. They’d insisted the children both climb into the big bed instead of their little cots. Lars sat on one side after tucking Noah in while Marnie sat on the other with Sadie.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did you not have a good day?” Marnie asked, continuing to hold Sadie. Gently running a hand over the little girl’s head, Marnie couldn’t fathom what caused the cloudburst of tears.

  “It was the best day I’ve ever had,” Sadie said between sniffles.

  Pushing her back, Marnie took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at the child’s face. “Then whatever is the matter?”

  “You all done so much for us. I can’t hardly believe you got me a new nightgown on top of everything else. Noah and I are grateful for everything. For the new clothes, and for taking us to church and the picnic.” Sadie turned her head to look at her brother and he quickly nodded his head in agreement. “I know it’s just for today, but I sorely wish we could live with you instead of here. Lars is just like the big hero man in the stories I used to make up for Noah and you’re such a nice, nice lady. I don’t want Pa to come back.” Sadie burst into a fresh round of tears.

  Marnie picked up the girl and cradled her on her lap, kissing her forehead and murmuring soothingly to her. Rocking her back and forth comfortingly, she let her cry until her sobs turned back to sniffles.

  “I probably done ruined your pretty dress,” Sadie fretted, taking the handkerchief from Marnie’s hand and roughly mopping her face.

  “Tears won’t ruin my dress, sweetheart.” Marnie kissed her cheeks and tucked her back in bed. “Don’t feel bad, Sadie. Lars and I are very flattered you had such a good time with us today that you’d like to do it every day.”

  “It’s one of the best compliments I’ve ever had,” Lars said, picking up the little girl’s hand in his and giving it a light squeeze.

  “But your pa will come home eventually and things will be different. In the meantime, though, Lars and I will keep visiting you both, if you think that would be all right.” Marnie looked first at Sadie and then Noah.

  “Yes, please.” Sadie reached up and hugged Marnie again.

  “Now, the two of you had a very exciting day, so you better get some sleep.” Marnie tucked the blankets up around Sadie. She kissed her cheek once more then leaned over to kiss Noah’s cheek. “Sweet dreams to you both.”

  Lars pecked Sadie’s other cheek and tweaked Noah’s nose before getting to his feet and walking to the bedroom door with Marnie. “We’ll stay for a while, just until you settle down a little.”

  “Thank you,” Sadie whispered, turning on her side and watching as they partially closed the bedroom door.

  Waiting quietly in the main room of the cabin, it only took a few moments for the two children to surrender to their exhaustion. Lars checked to make sure they were sleeping then took Marnie’s hand and walked her outside to the waiting surrey, lifting her to the seat before she could protest.

  “I sure hate leaving them alone,” Marnie said, glancing back at the cabin as Lars turned the surrey toward the road, heading back to town.

  “I do, too, but they stay alone every night and are used to it.” Lars sounded as disturbed as she felt about the children and their uncertain futures.

  “It was good for Noah and Sadie to be with your family, to experience something beyond what they’re accustomed to dealing with day in and day out. I’m glad Sadie told us what was bothering her all day. I can’t say that I blame her.” Marnie knew all too well about being forced to live in a place she didn’t want to be.

  “I’m glad we included them.” Lars released a sigh. “I hate thinking about what’s going to happen to those two kids when I catch their father and the rest of the gang.”

  “Let’s worry about that another day.” Marnie smiled at Lars in the fading daylight. “That was the loveliest day I think I’ve ever had.”

  “It’s one of the nicest days I’ve had in a long time, too.” Lars held the reins in one hand and wrapped an arm around Marnie’s shoulders, drawing her closer to his side. “Part of what made it so nice was having you there.”

  “I’m glad you made me go, Lars.” She rested her head on his shoulder, quickly deciding she could remain there for the rest of her life and never have a desire to move. Lars represented all the things her life so sorely lacked - security, safety, friendship, compassion, love. “Please let your family know how much I appreciated being included.”

  “You can tell them yourself. Aundy and Garrett invited us for dinner next week, on your day off. Will you go?”

  Marnie considered his request. If he’d asked her yesterday, she would have said no, but after today, she was inclined to say yes. “I’d love to.”

  His family and friends had made her feel so welcome at the picnic today. They treated her like another member of their group, as well as Sadie and Noah.

  The little boy spent all afternoon playing with the Rawlings twins while Sadie couldn’t get enough of baby Laila. She glued herself to Ilsa’s side and when Ilsa let her hold the baby, Marnie swallowed back tears at the look of pure joy on the girl’s face.

  It seemed the Nash, Rawlings, and Campanelli families were a bunch of open-minded, tenderhearted people who knew a thing or two about hospitality. They even included Pendleton’s bachelor banker, Grant Hill, along with the town’s resident curmudgeon, Marvin Tooley, in the day.

  Aundy and Caterina considered Marvin their personal humanitarian project. They were determined to reform him from a cranky, filthy drunk to someone who knew he had caring friends. Their efforts were evidently paying off because Marvin showed up clean, dressed in worn but decent clothes, and was pleasant throughout the afternoon. He even took a turn holding the baby, although both Sadie and Ilsa kept a close eye on him.

  Marnie’s favorite part of the day, aside from all the delicious food and good company, was when Ilsa and Garrett sang several songs together. Aundy dabbed at her tears and mumbled something about missing Nik, their adopted son who was off at college in New York. Apparently, he played the harmonica to accompany the singers when he was home.

  Lars even joined in a few of the songs he knew. Marnie pictured him standing next to his sister and brother-in-law as they sang On A Sunday Afternoon. Those who could carry a tune joined in on the last chorus.

  “On a Sunday afternoon

  You can see the lovers’ spoon

  They work hard on Monday

  But one day that’s fun day

  Is Sunday afternoon.”

  She loved hearing Lars’ deep, rich voice, especially as it ebbed and flowed over the notes of a song. Just thinking about it now made her tingle with pleasure and smile.

  “What does that look mean?” Lars asked, noticing the lift to her lips and the sparkle in her eyes.

  “Just thinking about today.” Marnie didn’t feel inclined to elaborate she’d been thinking of him specifically and how he’d made her heart puddle at her feet.

  “What about today?” He fastened his penetrating blue gaze to hers, making warmth pool in her midsection.

  “I guess I feel a little like Sadie. I wish it could be like this every day,” Marnie whispered, feeling childish sharing her wishes.

  “Me, too.” Lars kissed her temple and pulled her closer against his side, closer to his heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Breathing deeply of the fresh spring air, Marnie gave her gloves one final tug and strolled down the street in the direction of Ilsa’s shop. She hadn’t seen her friend, or Lars for that matter, since Easter.

  For a Thursday afternoon, the town seemed busy. Part of the noise and traffic came from the crew working on the street project. The street where Ilsa’s shop was located was nearly completed. Today, they worked on the section right in front of Caterina’s restaurant, which would no doubt have the feisty Italian girl in a fit at the noise and dust, not to mention the way it blocked
the door to her business.

  Envisioning Caterina standing on the step shaking her wooden spoon at the men made her smile as she rounded the corner of Ilsa’s building and went to the back door.

  Tapping twice, she turned the knob and stepped inside.

  The sound of Laila crying filled the store, along with Ilsa’s murmurings.

  Setting down her pocketbook then removing her gloves and hat, Marnie left her things on the worktable and walked to the front of the store. Ilsa sat in front of her sewing machine, rocking the baby in one arm while trying to stitch something with the other.

  “It looks like you could use another set of hands,” Marnie said, walking over and picking up Laila.

  “I could use about five sets, but I’ll do anything if you’ll stay and help me this afternoon.” Ilsa gave her a pleading look.

  Rocking Laila gently in her arms, the baby quieted and fell asleep. Marnie smiled victoriously and glanced at her friend. Ilsa normally looked like the epitome of fashion, wearing one of her own creations with her hair perfectly coiffed. Today, though, her hair appeared to have been hastily pinned on her head and the dress she wore bore wrinkles and a stain where the baby had no doubt spit up on it.

  It wasn’t like Ilsa, at all, to be in her shop looking anything less than flawless.

  “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

  “I’ve got a dress that has to be on the train tomorrow for Chicago. My favorite client ordered it for a ball next weekend. I want to get it to her in time to make sure it fits and have it properly pressed. I should have sent it last week, but Laila has required so much more time than I ever imagined and I haven’t been able to do much work.” Ilsa sighed, then took her sleeping baby from Marnie and placed her in a cradle in the workroom.

  Marnie watched as she brushed a lock of the baby’s hair away from her face and kissed the rosy little cheek.

  “My afternoon is yours. Between the two of us, we’ll get the dress finished.” Marnie looped her arm through Ilsa’s as they returned to the front of the store. “What needs finished?”

  “All of it,” Ilsa said, waving her hand toward the sewing machine. “I barely got the skirt cut out before Laila started to cry. I haven’t even finished sewing a single seam.”

  “Oh, my,” Marnie said, putting an arm around her friend and giving her a hug. Straightening, she patted Ilsa on the back. “We can do this. Together.”

  “But you’ll need to leave in an hour or so to go to um… to get ready for …”

  Marnie interrupted her friend with a smile. “I’m helping you until this gown is finished. I’ll call Gertie and have her tell Miss Clementine I can’t work this evening. She’ll dock my pay, but I don’t care.”

  “I’ll pay you for helping me, whatever you would have earned.” Ilsa grasped her hand as if it was a lifeline. “I’ll pay you double.”

  “Make it triple.” Marnie grinned at Ilsa, letting her know she was teasing, then walked to the telephone in the workroom and placed a call to Gertie.

  Hanging up from the call, Marnie started sewing basic seams while Ilsa finished cutting out the dress pieces and began rounding up the ribbon and threads she would need for the embellishments.

  “You’re going to have to stitch this part,” Marnie said, getting to her feet and pointing to the dress. “You haven’t taught me how to do the curve and tuck that goes right there.”

  “I’d take time to show you now, but considering our need for haste, I promise to teach you another day.”

  Marnie nodded and located the sketch of the gown, so she had a better idea of the embellishments Ilsa had in mind. The gown itself was simple enough in design, but the elaborate detailing, the trademark of Ilsa’s designs, would take time. From the hem of the skirt to the intricate stitching around the neckline and waist, it would all need to be hand-sewn.

  “Why don’t I…” Marnie’s words were lost as the front door banged open and Lars strolled inside.

  “Hello, beautiful ladies,” he said in a loud voice that awoke Laila, making her cry.

  Ilsa glowered at him before running into the back and picking up the crying baby. Marnie shook her head at him as she threaded needles with the accent colors needed to begin the fancy stitching on the gown.

  “What did I do?” Lars asked, leaning against the counter where Marnie stood.

  He gave her such an innocent look, she fought the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair. Good thing his flat-topped Stetson covered his head, hiding the temptation.

  “You woke the baby. Ilsa has to get this gown finished today and I told her I’d stay to help, but Laila isn’t cooperating,” Marnie said, struggling to ignore the way Lars’ blue eyes drew her attention.

  “Can’t Tony keep her for a while?” Lars asked, wanting to stretch across the counter and kiss Marnie’s lips. Watching them move as she talked just made the yearning worse and his mouth began to water, recalling the rich, decadent taste of her. Forcing his gaze away, he watched Ilsa return to the room, trying to soothe Laila.

  “Tony’s out at the reservation today, taking photographs. He received permission to do the photos months ago and I couldn’t ask him to reschedule.” Ilsa rocked the baby in her arms, willing her to go back to sleep. “I have to get this dress on the train tomorrow, even if I stay up all night finishing it.”

  “I’ll stay until it’s done.” Marnie assured Ilsa as she began cutting fabric to work into rosettes for the dress.

  “What about work?” Lars asked, knowing it wasn’t Marnie’s day off.

  “I called Gertie and told her I wasn’t going to be available tonight. I’m sure Miss Clementine will be hopping mad, but I’ll deal with her later.” Marnie continued cutting thin pieces of fabric into long strips.

  “I’ll go pay her for your time this evening then you won’t have to worry about getting into trouble.” Lars started to step away from the counter but Marnie grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t, Lars, please. You’ve spent a small fortune already and I can’t let you spend a dime more.”

  “But I…”

  “No more.” Marnie gave him a look that convinced him she wouldn’t accept more of his help in regard to her work at Miss Clementine’s.

  He gave her a nod and leaned against the counter again. “How can I help?”

  Ilsa snapped her head up and stared at him. “Do you really want to help? Do you have time?”

  Lars knew there was nothing he could do that involved sewing or stitching, so he assumed Ilsa needed him to run an errand or something along those lines. “Sure. I’ll do anything you need.”

  “Anything?” Ilsa asked, walking toward him with the baby.

  The look on her face and the hopeful sound in her voice made warning bells clang loudly in his head, but he didn’t retreat. “Anything.”

  Marnie failed miserably at hiding a giggle with a cough, although she kept her head down and focused on the fabric she continued to cut.

  Ilsa handed Lars the baby and pointed to the door. “Take Laila to my house and keep an eye on her for an hour or so. If you can do that, I’ll be forever in your debt.”

  Lars looked down at the baby in his arms with a sense of panic. He’d held the baby many times, but he didn’t know how to take care of one. He didn’t even know how to change a diaper.

  “I, um… what if… but, how do I…”

  Ilsa grinned and Marnie bit her cheek to keep her laughter from spilling out. “I fed and changed her less than thirty minutes ago. Just get her to sleep and put her in the cradle. That’s all you have to do. As soon as we get the seams sewn, I’ll come home to do the embellishments.”

  “But what if she…”

  Ilsa ignored his protests as she pushed him toward the door. Marnie hurried to open it and waved at him as he found himself standing outside with the baby.

  “Well, Miss Laila, I guess you and I are stuck with each other for a while.” Lars turned and started walking toward Ilsa’s house, glad he’d already left Viking at the l
ivery.

  Laila began crying again. By the time they reached the house, she’d reached full-fledged screams. Lars hurried around to the back door and found the key Tony kept hidden above a piece of gingerbread trim on the back porch.

  Unlocking the door and rushing inside with the baby, Lars laid her down on the table while he tossed off his hat, jacket, and vest then rolled up his shirtsleeves. The baby’s face was red from screaming when he picked her up and held her against his chest. Murmuring softly, he paced down the hall, gently rubbing the baby’s back and bouncing her as he walked.

  She made a strange noise and he felt moisture on his shirt. Holding her out, he looked down to see she’d spit up all over the front of him.

  Wrinkling his nose, he hurried to the kitchen and wiped her chin with a soft towel. Blotting at the mess on his shirt, he couldn’t believe Ilsa talked him into this.

  Humming an old lullaby he recalled his mother singing to Ilsa, he rocked Laila in his arms until she fell asleep. Carrying her to the large parlor, he laid her in a cradle Ilsa kept near her rocking chair and tucked a blanket around her.

  Plopping down on the sofa, he sat and watched her sleep for a while, wondering how such a tiny, pretty little thing could make so much noise and unleash such unbridled terror in him.

  He was a U.S. Marshal. He’d taken bullets meant for political figures, saved the lives of countless others, and transported hardened criminals without blinking an eye. He could face down a gang of cold-blooded killers and not even come close to losing his composure.

  But place his baby niece in his arms and tell him he was responsible for her well-being for the next few hours and panic nearly brought him to his knees.

  Thankful for a reprieve as Laila slept peacefully, he got to his feet and wandered back to the kitchen.

  Putting a pot of coffee on the stove, he stripped off his shirt then scrubbed it with the soap Ilsa had next to the sink. Wringing it out, he hung his shirt near the stove to dry and sat bare-chested at the table, nursing the steaming cup of coffee, keeping one ear attuned to any sound from the living room.