by Linda Ford
She didn’t budge.
He dropped his saddlebags, stepped into the shed, and emerged with a crate and two sacks, which he carried to the barn.
“What’s he doing?” Lila asked, clutching Hettie’s hand. “He’s mad at us, isn’t he?”
Her gaze on the barn, waiting for Nels to reappear, she hugged the girls. “He’ll get used to having us here.” God, I haven’t asked You for much. There hadn’t seemed any point in it when He didn’t stop bad things from happening. He hadn’t stopped her parents’ death. He hadn’t stopped the unkind things said of her and done to her at the home of the elderly lady she’d been required to care for. Hadn’t stopped people from believing Truman’s false accusations. Bad enough it had led to the shame of a divorce, but she had also lost the little boy she loved with her whole heart. Her arms tightened around the girls. I’m only asking for their sake. Let us stay here without gossips turning the situation into something sordid.
Nels made another trip to the barn and returned to the shed again. He continued to make trips back and forth.
The three of them remained at the window, but with every trip Agnes grew more troubled. She had to make certain Nels would see having her here was worth the inconvenience she had inflicted upon him. A good, hearty meal would go a long ways to doing that.
“You two can stay and watch if you like. I’m going to start supper.” Soon the house filled with the delicious aromas of frying pork, new potatoes, and carrots she had found in the overgrown garden spot, and baked chocolate pudding.
The girls gave a running account of Nels’s progress. “Aunt Agnes, he’s gone inside the little house and not come out for a long time.” Lila’s voice rose with worry.
“I expect he’s sweeping the floor and making a bed.” She’d spied a bedframe among the contents of the shed.
“Yup. A bunch of dirt just flew out the door. And now he’s outside coughing.”
Lila and Hettie giggled.
The meal was almost ready. Agnes checked on baby Merry. She slept. Would she sleep through the meal or should Agnes wake her and feed her now?
Hettie and Lila jumped off the chair, pushed it back to the table, and hurried to the far corner of the kitchen.
Agnes chuckled. Obviously, Nels headed for the house.
“He won’t bite,” she assured the girls.
“I know.” Lila did not sound certain and clung to her little sister.
Nels’s boots thudded on the step and the door opened. He paused, looked about, and sucked in a deep breath that started him coughing. “I have the place cleaned out,” he said when he could speak.
“Wash up and I’ll serve supper.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Am I dirty?”
Hettie pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop a giggle. She didn’t quite succeed.
Nels hung his hat and crossed to the sink.
The girls shrank back and Agnes forced herself not to follow their example. It wasn’t that he was a big man. She studied him. He was medium height, lean and muscular. Such a contrast to the citified Truman. She did not want to think of the man who had ruined her life.
A small mirror hung near the sink. Nels glanced in it and groaned, eliciting more giggles from the girls. He looked at them and grinned. “I don’t suppose you two ever get dirty.”
Hettie shook her head but Lila nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Nels pumped water into the wash basin.
Agnes lifted the kettle and added hot water to his wash water.
He sent her a surprised glance. “Thanks.” He’d soon learn that having her and the girls here was to his liking.
She realized she stood watching him and hurried to dish up the meal.
He dried his face and hands on the towel she’d hung nearby then returned it to its place.
Agnes stared at the towel draped neatly over the rack. Was he always orderly? She swallowed hard. Ever since the death of her parents she had been expected to run after others and do the things they thought below them. Like hanging a towel. Even since her move west to build a new life, she had spent her time caring for those who were ill, injured, or aged. They hadn’t been able to do things for themselves. The idea of spending time with a man who didn’t expect someone to hang a towel for him left her stunned. Of course, that might be the only thing he did for himself, and it perhaps came of being a bachelor.
Nels sniffed. “Smells good in here.”
Agnes jerked from her inward gaze. “The meal is ready.”
The four of them sat at the table. The girls folded their hands and looked at their plates. Agnes folded her hands too, but kept her gaze on Nels.
To Nels’s right, two little girls sat with their chairs pushed hard together, their hands clasped in front of them. Across from him, Miss Bland watched him, an expectant look in her eyes. He blinked and then it hit him. They were waiting for him to ask the blessing.
Had he grown so hard, so careless, and maybe even bitter, that he forgot the simplest act of a decent man? His throat tightened as he bowed his head. It wasn’t God’s fault that Inga had proved faithless. He had let it change him as a man, but it did not need to change his faith. He cleared his throat and managed to utter a few words of thanks for the meal. “Amen.”
Miss Bland passed him the serving dishes first.
He hesitated at making the others wait and then helped himself.
She put food on the girls’ plates then put some on her own plate.
Two little faces turned toward him. Two round pairs of eyes watched him.
“Girls, eat your meal,” Miss Bland said gently.
Hettie continued to stare at him.
He smiled.
She stared.
“Is my face still dirty?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Is my hair sticking up?” He ran his hands over his head, realized he was overdue for a haircut.
Again she shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes. “Have I sprung horns? Have my ears grown too big?” He wiggled them and the girls giggled.
“You talk funny.” The words were barely past a whisper.
“Hettie,” Miss Bland scolded.
Lila pulled Hettie’s hand. “Mama said not to say things about people.”
Nels roared with laughter. His eyes still tingled with humor when he spoke. “Ja, I am Norvegian. From Norvay, I am. Ve talk like dis.” He deepened his accent and the girls giggled.
A flash of amusement sparkled in Miss Bland’s eyes and Nels ate a few more mouthfuls, pleased with himself.
Hettie still stared at him, her eyelashes lowered. “But you have pretty eyes.”
He felt heat in his cheeks and dared not look toward the woman across the table. “Aren’t you a little darling?”
She nodded. “That’s what my papa said.” Her bottom lip trembled and tears flooded her eyes. She scrambled from her chair and rushed to Miss Bland’s arms. “Aunt Agnes, I want Mama. I want Papa.”
Lila followed and patted her little sister’s back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Nels half rose then sank down. It wasn’t as if he, a stranger, could comfort them. But if they were to share meals, he sure would like to see the girls be more at ease around him.
Miss Bland urged the girls to return to their places and they did so.
Nels decided he had to do his best to reduce the strain. “Guess what bird I saw today?” It was a game his grandfather had played with him and the many children in the extended family.
Lila perked up. “Did you see a robin?”
He pressed a finger to his chin and looked thoughtful. “I might have, but the bird I am thinking of is much bigger.”
“A black crow,” Hettie whispered.
“I did see a black crow. Saw a whole flock of them squawking and cawing like a bunch of excited children. But that isn’t the bird I’m thinking of. The bird I have in mind is bigger than a crow. He waddles and calls, ‘H
onk. Honk.’”
Lila leaned forward. “I know. I know. A goose.”
“You got it right. Good for you. Did you see anything today that I can guess?”
She and Hettie leaned close and Lila whispered in her sister’s ear. Then they turned to him, faces eager.
Lila spoke for them. “We saw a big animal.”
Nels tapped his chin and looked thoughtful. “Real big?”
They nodded, expressions eager.
He guessed they meant his cows but he pretended to give it more thought. “A dog?”
“Bigger,” Hettie said.
The girls managed to consume a few mouthfuls as they waited for his answer.
“A horse. You saw my horse when I rode up.” He glanced toward Miss Bland and rejoiced to see her smiling at the girls.
“No.” Both girls shook their heads. “It was bigger, wasn’t it?” Hettie asked Lila.
She nodded. “I think so. And brown and white.”
Nels widened his eyes. “You saw a bear with a white face? Where? I better get my gun and scare it away.” He again glanced across the table to the woman and grinned at the amusement crinkling her eyes.
“Not a bear,” Lila said.
“It was—”
Lila stopped her sister. “Make him guess.”
Nels tossed his hands in the air. “At least give me a clue. What sound does it make?”
“Moo,” Hettie managed before Lila clamped a hand over her mouth.
“A cow. Where did you see a cow?” He slapped his forehead. “Of course. You saw me bringing my cows home. Wow. That was a hard one.”
The girls squirmed with pleasure.
He looked down the length of the table straight into the dark gaze of Miss Bland. What an awful name for a woman who was anything but bland. Her eyes carried a depth of emotion—approval of his efforts to befriend the girls, but a healthy dose of caution as well. He wondered if it was meant as a warning for him, though he couldn’t think why he needed a warning. His interest in those sharing the table went only as far as enjoying mealtime.
“My turn.” Hettie’s words drew his attention back to the girls.
“What did you see today? Was it an animal, or a bird?”
She shook her head, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Was it a flower, or a tree?”
She giggled and squirmed as she shook her head.
“Miss Bland, do you have any ideas?”
“We call her Aunt Agnes,” Lila informed him. “She says Miss Bland makes her sound old and faded.”
He knew his eyes filled with amusement as he sought the gaze of the woman under discussion. “She certainly isn’t that, is she?” He had the pleasure of watching pink roses blossom in her cheeks and at the moment she was quite beautiful.
“She’s nice,” Hettie said.
“And pretty,” Lila added.
The woman composed her face into a benign expression. “Girls, finish your supper then there is chocolate pudding for dessert.”
“But Aunt Agnes, no one guessed what I saw.” Tears pooled in Hettie’s eyes. She sniffed.
“Very well, was it a person?” Miss Bland who was anything but bland asked.
Hettie nodded. “A special person.”
“Baby Merry,” Lila shouted.
“No.”
“Aunt Agnes?” Lila asked with less enthusiasm.
More shaking of the head by her younger sister.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward Nels. “Me?”
Hettie clapped. “That’s right.”
“I’m special? How nice. But why would you say that?”
“Because you called me darling, just like Papa.”
Nels could think of nothing to say. The child decided he was a good person based on a half-careless comment.
Miss Bland seemed in rather a hurry to serve the pudding.
He waited until she sat down again then tasted it. “This is delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” A cake-like topping with thick, sweet pudding below it.
“It’s as easy to make as falling off a log.”
He chuckled. “I doubt it’s that easy. Unless you’re glued to the log.” He smiled clear through as two little girls and a grown woman laughed.
Miss Bland—he was going to call her Agnes rather than such an unrealistic name—had taken only a few spoonfuls of her pudding when the baby started to cry. She hurried to get the little one and jostled her in one arm as she tried to prepare the feeding bottle.
Nels finished his dessert. “Let me hold her while you get the bottle ready.”
The woman stared at him like he had indeed fallen off a log and maybe landed on his head. “She’s a newborn.”
“I come from a family where there are always babies who are passed around. I learned to hold a baby before I learned to count to a hundred.”
The two girls looked at him with wide-eyed admiration. Agnes’s mouth fell open.
He got to his feet and took the baby before she had time to decide if it was safe or not. He supported the head just as he’d learned so many years ago and held the baby so he could look into her face. “You’re a little darling, aren’t you?” The little mouth puckered up in protest over waiting for her milk. He walked across the floor holding her and talking to her. “Now you just be patient. It’s a very good skill for all of us to learn.”
Her two sisters followed on his heels as if prepared to protect their baby.
Little Merry whimpered but didn’t cry, which he considered a victory.
He reached the far side of the room and turned. Agnes stood before him holding a bottle. “I’ll take her.”
If he relinquished the infant he would have no excuse for remaining in the house. He sure didn’t look forward to an evening alone in the shed.
But the woman took the baby from his arms and went to a chair to feed her. The little girls followed, hovering over their baby sister.
He stood in the middle of the room feeling as out of place and unwelcome as a skunk in the henhouse. Well, he hadn’t grown up in a large family and not learned a few things.
“How would you two little darlings like to help me wash the dishes?”
Agnes looked at him, her eyes narrow, her mouth tight. “That isn’t necessary. I’ll tend to my chores later.”
“My mor taught me to do dishes before—”
“You could count to a hundred?”
He detected no amusement in her words. “Sounds like you might disbelieve me.”
“Might be I do.”
Lila’s gaze went from one to the other, her eyes wary.
“Watch and believe.” He filled a basin with hot water. “Lila, you bring me the plates. Hettie, you bring the silverware.” They hurried to do his bidding. “Do you know the dishwashing game?”
Two blond heads shook no. One grown lady looked intrigued and guarded at the same time.
Neither did he, but seeing as no one was offering suggestions, he had to come up with something really fast. “I’ll wash a dish and hand it to you to dry. Here, I’ll show you. Lila, here’s a plate. Can you think of a word that starts with the same sound?”
She sounded the word then said, “Puppy?”
“Excellent!” He clapped his hands, spraying soapy water on himself and the girls.
The girls giggled. He checked for Agnes’s response. She smiled, but her eyes remained watchful.
“Hettie, your turn. Here is a cup. Can you think of a word?”
She sounded the word. “Muck.”
He cheered and laughed. “That sounds almost the same. Very good.” They continued until the dishes were done. He put the clean stacks in the cupboard and wiped up the table.
Baby Merry had finished her bottle and Agnes walked back and forth with her.
Agnes noticed his interest. “She is restless this time of day.”
Nels looked about. There seemed no reason to delay his departure. He went to the door and put on his hat. “I’ll go to my
shack. Goodnight.”
Hettie followed him to the door. “Can’t you stay and play with us?”
He turned toward Agnes. If he’d hoped for an invitation, he immediately forgot the idea at the tightness of her mouth.
“He has to go,” she said. “It will soon be bedtime for you.”
“Goodnight,” he said again, and stepped out in the evening shadows. Of course she was right. He could take his meals with them, but other than that, he wasn’t welcome in his own house.
He checked on the cows. They were restless but corralled. It would take them a few days to get used to their new home. Darkness had descended. A lamp glowed in the window of the house. He made his way to the shack and lit a lamp. The place was too small, containedonly a bed and a cupboard. With nothing else to do, he put out the lamp and lay on the hard cot.
He had promised himself to never again get entangled with a woman, and here he was with one in his house. Worse, three adorable little girls. A smile tugged at his lips.
As soon as he realized it, he frowned.
This situation was not to his liking. Nor had he had any say in it except to agree to let her make his meals. There would be nothing more to their arrangement.
It was the time of day when the girls would miss their parents the most. Had she gotten them to bed without tears? Had the baby settled? He rose and looked out the small window. Lamplight still glowed from inside the house. A shadow moved beyond the thin curtains.
He pushed away from the view and returned to his bed.
What did it matter to him if the girls slept or the baby settled or Miss Bland struggled to cope?
3
Agnes settled the girls, fed the baby, and got her to sleep, then wandered about the house. How long would Nels tolerate their presence? With winter only a couple months away and the nights already cool, she knew he wouldn’t be comfortable in the shed. What was she to do? Where could she go?
An hour of pacing brought no answer to her questions. She must convince the man to allow them to stay here. But she could think of no way of doing it other than cooking his meals and doing his laundry. She stopped and stared at the darkened window as an idea came. Perhaps she could insulate the little shack for him. She had enough money to buy tar paper, which many of the settlers used to weatherproof their tiny abodes. She had been in enough of them to know it was a less than adequate solution to the cold Dakota winter winds. Nevertheless, the next time she got to town, she would buy a roll of tar paper and line the shed with it.
