The glow of the lantern on the table made him smile. She’d see the Bible soon, and the light in her pretty eyes in the morning would be all the thanks he needed.
Five
“It won’t work, Michael Riley.” Star plunked the Bible down on the table the next morning. She stumbled, trying to compensate for her injured ankle.
Michael’s heart lurched as she nearly lost her balance. He reached out to steady her. Jerking away, she grabbed the edge of the table. Her knuckles grew white under the strain of holding her weight off the swollen ankle.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, stung by her reaction to his gift. He stood and grabbed a chair. “Sit down before you fall.”
Red-faced and eyes blazing, she ignored him. “Only a low-down skunk would try to plant the Good Book in my room to make it look like I was trying to steal it!”
Ma set a plate of fluffy biscuits on the table. “Michael! How could you?”
“Now wait, you don’t really think I—”
“Miss Star doesn’t need a Bible, Pa. I’m telling her all about it, ain’t I, Miss Star?”
In an instant, Star’s expression softened. She turned to look at the little girl. “You sure are. I loved the story you told me last night. If I’m still around tonight, maybe you could tell me another one.”
“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” Aimee’s soft brows drew together.
“That depends on. . .” Star turned her steely gaze back to Michael. “Well, that just depends.”
“Pa, don’t send her away!”
“Now look, you’ve gone and made the child cry.” Ma gathered Aimee in her arms. “Of course Star isn’t going anywhere, sweet thing.”
“Hang on a minute, all of you.” Still holding the chair he had offered Star, Michael lifted it a good two inches off the floor and let it clatter back down for emphasis.
“Sit,” he ordered, this time taking her firmly by the arm. “You need to stay off that if it’s ever going to heal.”
Surprisingly, she obeyed.
Taking the chair at the end of the table, he set it next to her and turned her around. “Prop your foot up.” Once she was situated, Michael sat back in his own chair. “I didn’t plant that Bible to try to trap Star into stealing it.” He looked from his mother to Aimee, then rested his gaze on Star. “It was meant as a gift.”
Her lips parted as she drew in a quick breath.
Forcing himself not to stare at the softness of her mouth, he met her wide-eyed gaze. “My way of apologizing for accusing you of stealing last night.”
“You were giving it to me?”
“I am giving it to you.” Michael slid the black book across the table to her. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“Hmmph. . .seems to me you were trying to bribe your way out of a real apology,” Ma said.
Star grabbed up the Bible and hugged it to her chest like a dog hoarding a bone. “Oh, no. This is fine. I accept. No harm done.”
Ma’s face softened as her gaze rested on the girl. Lowering her plump form into a chair, she glanced up at Michael and gave him an approving smile. “Sit down and say the blessing, Son.”
A warm glow enveloped Michael at the almost tangible excitement on Star’s face. Only when Ma insisted she eat, did the girl release her death grip on the Bible, setting it reverently next to her plate.
Why couldn’t Sarah have felt that way about it? he thought pensively. He berated himself. He had to stop comparing Star to Sarah. But it was only natural, he reasoned. They were exactly the same sort—women of loose morals and questionable character. Was there really a difference between a thief and a prostitute? Not according to the Bible. Sin was sin. Of course, he had to admit, Star’s reaction to his gift gave him some hope that she, at least, was redeemable.
“Michael?” Ma’s voice drifted through his bitter thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Sorry, Ma,” he muttered. “My mind was somewhere else.”
Ma released an exasperated breath. “I said, the new teacher’s due to arrive in a month or so.”
Michael looked up sharply. “Hank found a teacher?”
“Just got the letter last week. A woman from Kansas.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
“Can I go to school?” Aimee nearly bounced in her chair.
“Sit still,” Michael scolded, softening his words with a smile.
The little girl’s face clouded over, but she obeyed. “Well, can I?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see.”
She let out a sigh and turned toward Star. “Wait and see usually means no. But I don’t see why I can’t go.”
Star grinned. “I think your pa just means he’s not sure how old you have to be to attend school.”
“I’ll be six pretty soon. And I already know my ABC’s. I can even read if the words are little.”
Star’s smile fairly lit the room as she beamed at the child. “Already? You know what? I’d bet my last penny that by the time school starts, you’ll be old enough. Right, Michael?” Reaching out, Star smoothed Aimee’s curls. The maternal gesture took Michael by surprise, and so did his pleasant reaction. But he knew better than to allow Aimee to grow too attached to their temporary houseguest. He’d have to discuss the matter with Star. Soon. Very soon.
“Michael?”
“Pa!”
Michael blinked and stared from one to the other. “What? Oh, yeah. Probably.” He hated the thought of his little girl going off to school. How was it possible she was even old enough?
Tossing his napkin down on his empty plate, he stood. “Ma, I’m going into Hobbs. Need anything?”
“Nothing I can think of. What are you going to town for? You brought plenty of supplies from Oregon City.”
Michael shrugged. “Just need a few more things.”
“Can I go, Pa?” Aimee shot from her chair and ran to grab Michael’s hand.
“May I go,” Ma corrected.
Aimee glanced at Ma, then back up at Michael. “Grammy wants to go too.”
Ma shook her head and gave him a helpless smile. “I think she’d better get some schooling soon before there’s no hope for her.”
Swinging the little girl up in his arms, Michael cast a glance at his mother. “Have any plans for her today? I wouldn’t mind taking her with me.” While he hated to indulge his daughter too much, he’d missed the little tyke and they’d always made these short trips to town together.
With a wave of her hand, Ma dismissed them both and set about cleaning up the plates. “Go on and take her. If you don’t, she’ll just pout and be underfoot until you get back.”
Michael set her down and gave her little rump an affectionate swat. “Go get your jacket. There’s a chill in the air this morning.”
“A’right, Pa,” she returned, happily running to do as she was told. She grabbed her jacket from its hook by the door and shrugged it on. After buttoning her up, Michael offered his hand.
Aimee hung back, turning to Star. “You going to be here when I get back?”
“I promise.” Star smiled with affection.
A grin tipped the child’s lips. “Mrs. Merlin always gives me a sourball when we go to the mercantile. I’m going to ask for one for you too. Let’s go, Pa.” Tugging on his hand, she led the way out the door.
❧
Mrs. Merlin’s eyebrows rose in obvious curiosity when Michael asked to see dress goods. “Your ma feeling too poorly to come pick out her own material these days?”
Michael shook his head. “Ma’s feeling right as rain. Thank you for asking, Ma’am.”
The older woman sniffed and pulled down two bolts of fabric—one, the ugliest brown muslin Michael had ever seen—the other, a gray piece he could only describe as matronly. Neither would do for a young woman with Star’s creamy complexion and violet eyes. But how did he go about explaining that to the proprietress without giving her more information than she needed to know—information sure to be all o
ver Hobbs before his wagon rolled out of town?
Aimee saved him the trouble, making Michael sorry he’d ever brought her along. “Oh, it’s not for Grammy. It’s for Miss Star. She don’t have any clothes, and Pa don’t want her wearing my ma’s old things.”
A pleased smile lit Mrs. Merlin’s pinched face at the easily obtained morsel of information. “I see. And who is Miss Star?”
Indignation hit Michael square in the gut. The woman didn’t even have the grace to direct the question to him!
“Pa brought her back with him from Oregon City,” Aimee said matter-of-factly, her pink tongue sliding over her lips as she eyed a jar of sourballs on the counter.
With an elated smirk, the shameless woman twisted off the lid and offered the jar to the little girl. “Take one, and tell me about Miss Star.”
Feeling his collar tighten like a noose around his neck, Michael reached up and loosened his top button.
“Miss Star is beyoootiful!” Aimee began enthusiastically, ready to tell everything she knew and then some. “When Pa carried her inside last night, I thought she was going to be my new m—”
Michael recovered enough to slip his arm around the back of his little girl’s head and cup his hand over her mouth in the nick of time.
“He carried her inside?” Giving him a triumphant smile, Mrs. Merlin cocked an eyebrow and waited. Michael would have liked nothing better than to give her a sound piece of his mind but, aware of his daughter’s presence, swallowed the words past a boulder-sized lump in his throat.
Resigned, he expelled a long, slow breath and relented. “The girl will be staying on to help out around the place. Ma’s not as pert as she used to be and could use someone to take over part of the chores.”
Mrs. Merlin continued to stare, a look of impatience on her face. “You carried her inside?”
“She had a little accident and couldn’t walk,” Michael said firmly. “And that’s all there is to it.”
The woman scowled, obviously not getting all the information she wanted. She let out a huff and turned her attention back to the bolts of fabric on the counter. “ ’Bout how much of this do you want?”
Michael fingered the brown muslin, scanning the shelves until his gaze rested on a bolt of deep green muslin. Pretty enough for a girl like Star. Dropping the drab brown muslin, he pointed at the shelf. “Actually, I was thinking more of something like that—enough for a dress.” He cleared his throat. “And some of that blue over there.”
“Kinda fancy for hired help, I’d say.”
“The girl has to have something to wear to church,” he said, defenses raised.
“If you say so,” she shot back, with a shrug that clearly indicated she had her own opinion.
Michael left the store a few moments later, carrying a bundle containing enough material for four dresses—one blue, the closest color he found to match Star’s eyes; the green, because it was his favorite color; and the brown and gray, because Mrs. Merlin seemed to think they were more fitting than the material he had chosen. In no mood to argue, Michael had bought the whole bundle. At the woman’s suggestion, he’d also plunked down money for material to make underclothes. He’d had to guess on the size for a pair of sturdy boots; but by the time he’d gotten that far, Michael was so fed up with Mrs. Merlin’s questions and hints, he didn’t care if they pinched Star’s toes into tight balls or if they swallowed her feet whole. He just had to get out of that store before the busybody drove him crazy.
On the way home, Aimee chattered incessantly until her eyes drooped and she fell asleep against his arm. When he reached the homestead, Michael lifted her gently from the wagon seat and carried her up to the house. He stopped at the sound of a deep, booming laugh that could only belong to one person. He groaned inwardly. Andy had returned.
❧
Star’s heart did a funny little flip-flop when Michael walked inside carrying Aimee in his arms. He stood tall in the doorway, staring at his brother, a scowl on his face.
Not fifteen minutes after Michael’s wagon had rolled out of sight, his brother burst through the door, grabbed up Miss Hannah, and swung her around the room. Thinking he was an intruder, Star had grabbed a broom and would have whopped him a good one, if not for the look of pure joy on the older woman’s face.
“Michael!” Andy’s voice resonated throughout the house. “Good to see you.”
Michael’s scowl deepened as Aimee stirred and lifted her sleepy head. Her mouth popped open as she stared at Andy.
Star couldn’t blame her for staring. The man stood well over six feet tall. His hair, the same reddish-brown color as Michael’s, hung shoulder length in almost feminine waves. But there wasn’t a thing feminine about the rest of him. Broad shoulders and a thick chest filled out his buckskin shirt and, with a bushy beard covering his face, he looked downright scary.
“Pa? Who’s that?”
“Who am I?” Andy said. “I’m your uncle Andy, little girl. And I have a present for you.”
“You do?” Aimee wiggled until Michael set her on the floor. She walked toward her uncle, eyeing him cautiously.
“I sure do. Traded a fine pouch of tobacco to a little Indian squaw to get it.”
Star glanced at Michael. He definitely was not happy to see this brother. Curiosity piqued, Star wondered if they’d had a falling out or if Michael just didn’t like people in general.
“Pa says tobacco’s evil.”
A grin spread across Andy’s face. “That a fact?”
“Yes.” Aimee wrinkled her nose. “And it’s nasty too. All that spittin’ and stuff.”
Andy threw back his head and let out a belly laugh that fairly shook the house. “Good thing I got rid of it, then, isn’t it?”
He riffled through his saddlebags and pulled out an Indian doll. She wore a fringed buckskin dress and a beaded band around her straw head.
Aimee stared wide-eyed. “Is that for me?” she whispered.
“Sure is. You’re not too grown up to play with dolls, are you?”
“No, Sir.” She reached out her pudgy hands.
“Where are your manners, young lady?” Miss Hannah asked.
“Thank you, Uncle Andy.” She hugged the doll tightly to her chest, then gave him a puzzled frown. “How come you’re my uncle? I only had Uncle Hank before.”
That seemed to draw Michael out of whatever state he was in. He stepped forward and extended his hand to his brother.
Star breathed a relieved sigh when Andy clasped the proffered hand and grinned. Michael seemed to relax. There was obviously trouble between the two men.
“Uncle Andy is your uncle because he’s my other brother,” Michael explained to the little girl. “And he’s been gone since right after you were born.” His voice held the disapproval Star was learning to dread, but it didn’t seem to bother Andy in the least. As a matter of fact, he let the challenge go and focused on his niece.
“That’s a fact,” Andy said with a nod. He grinned and reached forward to tweak Aimee’s nose. “ ’Course, back then, you were a wrinkly, squalling little thing and not nearly so pretty as you are now. You were just about as big as that doll, I’d say. Maybe a little bigger.”
At the reminder of her gift, the little girl turned suddenly to Michael. “Where’s the presents we brought for Star, Pa?”
Presents? For her?
Star glanced up into Michael’s flushed face. He cleared his throat. “I bought a few things to get Star through the winter,” he explained, the red on his face deepening and creeping up to his ears.
“I’ll go get it.” Aimee bounded from the house before anyone could say a word.
Star glanced down at the ill-fitting, pink satin dress she wore, one Michael had grudgingly allowed her to borrow from his wife’s trunk. He must have loved the woman very much to have kept her things all these years. Star could only imagine how painful it must be for him to see another woman wearing them.
Truth be told, the gown wasn’t exactly comfortabl
e for Star either. She’d never worn such a tight, low-cut dress before—nor satin. Ma had always insisted upon her wearing modest, high-necked, dark dresses revealing the least amount of her curves. Though Star had longed for the pretty things at the time, now she understood Ma was keeping her hidden to protect her.
An all-too-familiar ache swelled inside her heart. How she missed Ma. She struggled to push the pain aside. Lila had said there was a time for grieving, but now wasn’t the time. Only in solitude could she relieve her sorrow through tears.
Aimee returned to the house carrying a fat bundle in her little arms. She shoved it at Star and bounded back toward the door. “I’ll get the other one,” she threw over her shoulder.
The other one? How long would it take for her to pay for this and start saving her money?
She turned to Michael. Looking everywhere but at her, he shifted his position and cleared his throat again. “Well, I best get to the chores. Looks like more rain is coming in soon.” With that, he headed for the door, practically knocking Aimee over in the process.
“ ’Cuse me, Pa,” the little girl said, as he grabbed onto her to keep her from tumbling to the floor. Michael bent to give her a quick kiss on the head and was gone in a flash.
Aimee handed Star another fat bundle. “You’ll like what Pa picked out.” She scrunched up her nose. “Mrs. Merlin made him buy some ugly colors too, but Pa says you can do chores in those and wear the pretty dresses to church and town and such.”
“Your pa bought me dresses?”
“ ’Course not. We don’t have ready-made dresses in town. Mrs. Merlin don’t think it’s prof. . .prof. . .” Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of the word. Then she gave up with a shrug. “She don’t think anyone would buy them.”
Miss Hannah grinned. “Mrs. Merlin doesn’t think it’s profitable to have ready-made gowns in the store.”
“Then what do you mean, I can wear them to church and for chores?”
“Pa got some pretty material for you to make you dresses. When are you going to start?”
But For Grace (HEARTSONG PRESENTS - HISTORICAL) Page 6
