Clara came and knelt in front of the boy. “Would you like to come see the tree with me? I like looking at things up close so I can really see them. I’ll even show you my favorite ornament.”
Henry looked up at Caleb, his eyes asking for permission.
The sheriff nodded. Henry shifted his free hand from the man to the woman. Sum, of course, was a permanent extension of his other.
Caleb watched as Dag’s diminutive blond wife, her wine-red velvet dress pooling about her, knelt in front of the tree and began taking an ornament at a time off the branches and showing it to the child. If adoration had a face, it was Henry’s. That Dag was a lucky man. The thought of eyes like precious gems flashed through his mind. He’d only really seen them once. She’d kept her head bowed or her eyes closed much of the time.
Would he ever see them flash again? Please Lord, let it be so. Later Caleb led Henry to the room prepared for him, with Sam in tow. “Now, you’ll be just fine right here. Angel is with her nursemaid right down the hall and this here’s the bed your ma will be sleeping in, soon as she gets better. You might want to warm it up for her.”
Henry hung back, his eyes taking up most of his face.
“I’ll wait here ‘til you fall asleep.”
The boy sighed and began to unbutton his shirt. Tucked up warm and cozy a few minutes later, he clutched the edge of the blankets until his knuckles turned white.
Caleb leaned against the bedpost and wrapped his hands around his knee. The boy looked lost in a sea of white sheets and pillows. Much against his better judgment, the man looked down at the dog sitting by his feet and thumped the bed covers. With a leap that hardly touched the bed, Sam wriggled under his charge’s arm and flicked his tongue over the pale cheek.
Caleb swallowed the rock that swelled in his throat at the look on Henry’s face.
Sam twitched the tip of his feathery tail when Caleb whispered good-bye some time later. Henry never stirred. Caleb stopped off at the room where Angel slept in the cradle. He tiptoed in at the beckoning of the young woman rocking her own child by the window. After a smile at her, he leaned over the cradle. Angel lay on her side, tightly wrapped in her infant blankets. She’d managed to free one walnut-sized fist and it lay beside her baby-red cheek. He touched the tiny fingers and instinctively they clasped his.
Caleb beat a hasty retreat. She sure packed a wallop for such a tiny mite.
Back at Doc Harmon’s another picture greeted him, this one, too, flushed but restless. Mrs. Carlson moaned and rolled her head from side to side.
“Man, are you trying to freeze her to death?” Caleb whispered. He shot a look of horror at the half-open window.
“Got to get her cooled down somehow and cold clothes alone weren’t working. Now I got some snow packed beside her and with the room cold, she’s cooling off. You sit here for a while and just talk to her. Tell her about Henry. We got to make her want to live worse’n the easy way out by dying.”
“You don’t think she’s going to give up, do you?” Caleb ignored the pang that shot through his heart.
“That’s your job, keep her wanting to live to see her young’uns. I just do the doctoring and I done all I can.”
Chapter 8
“Angel needs you.”
The wind whistled in the gap of the now barely open window, snow powdering the sill.
The woman stirred, her hands plucking at the sheet covering her.
Caleb wanted to cover her with the quilt but he could still feel the fever when he laid the back of his hand to her forehead. But her color was better and he had to grant Doc the benefit of the doubt. After all, he didn’t like anyone telling him how to run his job as sheriff.
“Henry, you’da been right proud of him over there at Gudrun’s. He is one brave youngster. Now I know he’s scared, the fear shouts from his eyes, but he does what he has to do. He and Angel, they’re waiting for you to come to them. I thought that in the morning, if you’re up to it, I’d bring Henry over for a quick visit. He’s pretty worried about you.”
Caleb thought a moment. Now how do I know that for a fact? The boy never said a word. Could she hear him? Dear Lord, You can hear me and I know You are listening. All I see is two babes who need their mother desperatelike. So, please, for mercy’s sake, let this woman get back on her feet again. He heard the clock chiming in another part of the house. Doc said he’d be back to spell him about three.
Caleb removed the cloth from the woman’s forehead, wrung it out in the pan of water, and replaced it. If only there were something he could really do. He got to his feet and crossed to the window. Fewer flakes were falling and the wind seemed to have let up some. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and hunched his shoulders in an effort to work out the kinks.
Back in his chair he tried to think of something to say. He’d about used up his store of words for the entire week when he noticed a Bible on the bed stand. Flipping to the Psalms, Caleb began to read. “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: in him will I trust.”
When the doctor tiptoed in some time later, he checked his patient and nodded. “I think we might have turned the corner, she’s sleeping restful now.”
“I’ll mosey on home then. Thanks, Doc.”
“Thank you, Caleb. Any time you get tired of sheriffing, you can sign on as a nurse.”
“Yeah, well, think I’ll stick with what I know.” He snagged his Stetson off the chair back and, gathering up his sheepskin coat, nodded once again. “Night.”
The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, then hid again. The temperature was dropping, Caleb could tell, even as the snow clouds hurried to the south. Still he left the Carlson horse in the doc’s barn and plowed through some new drifts on the walk to his house. After hanging up his coat, he stoked the stove again and made his way to the bedroom. Across the foot of his bed lay the red scarf that had been wrapped so carefully around Henry’s throat when the little family arrived in the blizzard.
Caleb picked it up and ran it through his fingers. She’d made this special for her boy, he could tell, each stitch perfect and of the softest wool, dyed red to please a boy’s heart. “Dear God, don’t let up now. Please keep on with Your healing work,” he whispered out loud. The house seemed even emptier than usual without Sam.
Caleb fell asleep wondering about the man found dead by the blacksmith shop. Who was he? Maybe the morning would bring some answers.
“She’s asking for her babes,” Doc said with nary a greeting.
“Thanks be to God,” Caleb muttered under his breath as if not quite used to saying such things but needing to do so now. “Should I bring Henry over?”
“Yep, and Angel too. Wrap her up in a quilt. Your horse should be able to manage the drifts, though I wouldn’t say the same for the sorry piece of horseflesh you left in my barn.”
“I know, that’s why it’s there. Makes me wonder how long they were on the road. May be there hadn’t been money for horse feed. Sure does make one wonder.”
“You want to put out a notice on the teletype? Mayhap someone’s looking for her.”
Caleb rubbed the side of his nose. “I think we’ll wait. Sent one out already this morning on that man in the morgue.” He hoped Mrs. Carlson would tell him about her history herself, soon as she felt up to it. In the meantime, he’d fetch the children. Shame they couldn’t use a carriage but none of the streets had been plowed out yet. He knew Clara and Gudrun would make a visit to the sick woman as soon as they could get through.
After the prescribed greeting at the big house, along with fresh coffee and warmed cinnamon rolls, Clara brought the children to him, already bundled up for the trek across town.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Caleb drew the red muffler from his pocket and wrapped it around Henry’s neck. “So your ma can recognize you. I think you been eating so much good food here, you grew a foot.”
Henry fl
ashed Caleb a look of doubt and ducked his head again. One hand still clutched the fur around Sam’s neck.
“How about if I take one and you the other?” Dag entered the warm kitchen, all dressed for the elements. “Won’t take me but a minute to saddle my horse.”
Clara rocked the bundled baby back and forth. “You’re going to bring her back, aren’t you?”
“You mean Angel or her mother?”
“Both, if you could.” She looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms. “I put a couple of diapers in, just in case. She ate about an hour ago.” Clara looked up at the sheriff. “You be careful with her now.”
Caleb could feel Henry at his side. Perhaps it was a good thing Dag had offered to help. And to think that woman had tried to leave on a rickety horse with both young’uns and sick to boot. He’d have to have a serious talk with her when she had some strength back.
“I know, Caleb, God does work in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.” Clara swayed in the age-old rhythm of women comforting their babes. Caleb didn’t pretend to understand the female of the human species. One thing he knew for certain: If anything happened to these two little ones while in his care, the wrath of Clara and Gudrun united would be worse than anything a mere man could dream up.
He handed the mounted Dag the infant after Clara had seen to the quilt flap being tucked over the baby’s head just so. Then he tossed Henry up into the saddle and swung aboard, whistling for Sam who’d gone to sniff a bush or two. Together they trotted down the drive that Dag had already shoveled free of drifts and toward the doctor’s house.
“Well, Henry, your ma’s been asking about you.” Mrs. Harmon unwrapped the boy and hung his things on the coat tree by the door. “And how is our Angel this morning?”
“Now let’s forget all that howdy stuff and just bring them back to their ma while she’s still awake.” Doc Harmon entered the room in a rush. “I got a woman out to the south of town who’s set on having her baby a bit early. Martha, you better prepare that other room, just in case.”
Caleb and Dag, their charges in hand, followed the blustering doctor down the walnut-paneled hall.
Henry broke away from Caleb’s grip and threw himself against the woman lying, eyes closed, in the bed.
“Ah, Henry.” She smoothed his hair with her hand. Her voice quavered, shaking like her hand. “I heard you have been a good boy for these kind people.” She looked up, a smile almost making it to her face. “Thank you for bringing them.”
Dag freed the infant from the quilt and laid her in her mother’s arms. “She has been well fed, in fact the wet nurse we found says she eats like a little pig. She will stay until you are able to care for your daughter yourself.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Carlson kissed the baby’s brow and snuggled her close. “I—I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”
“Landsakes, child,” Mrs. Harmon said, bustling into the room immediately after her husband left. “Not every town gets its own personal Christmas Angel. You be more a gift than a trouble.”
“I’ll repay . . .”
Mrs. Harmon threw her hands in the air. “Talk of payment already. You quit worrying about paying and think about getting better. Now, Henry, I got a cup of cocoa out there with your name on it, along with those cookies you liked so well. Sam near to busted down the back door ‘til I let him in. He’s waiting for you too.” She held out her hand and, after checking for a reassurance from his mother, the boy placed his in her ample grip.
Caleb could hear Mrs. Harmon’s running commentary as they made their way toward the kitchen.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so to help you with the return trip,” Dag said. “I need to check on things at the shop. Will’s been taking care of chores over Christmas and I’m sure no one’s come in today to have their horses shod.” He nodded to the woman in the bed. “Later, ma’am,” and left the room.
Caleb took his place in the chair where he’d spent so many hours the night before.
“You were here before, weren’t you?” Her voice seemed stronger but not by much.
“Yes.”
“I remember your voice.” The baby whimpered and stretched her tiny arms. “I I can’t thank you enough.”
“The best thanks you can give me is to do what the doc tells you and don’t go trying anything stupid again.” He could see her crumpled on the floor in his barn. The thought made his throat tighten.
“I won’t.”
Why was it he could hear a “for now” at the end of her sentence? Stubborn woman. He knew he’d have to watch her. But then, was watching her such a penalty? He shook his head at the silly thought. If he got this poor woman tucked under Gudrun’s wing, she’d be safe enough. And considering the verses he’d read the night before about living in the shadow of the Almighty’s wings, this small family had plenty of protection.
She was sleeping when Dag reentered the room and the two men made the return trek to the mansion. Angel was letting them know in no uncertain terms that it was feeding time. Henry almost laughed once at Sam’s antics playing snowplow with his nose. All in all, it had been a successful morning.
He repeated the process the next morning, this time to find Mrs. Carlson sitting up in the bed. The smile she bestowed on him for bringing her children flew like an arrow straight to his heart. He’d not known she could smile like that, but he did know he’d do anything within his power to bring that smile to her face again.
“The doctor says I can get out of bed soon as I have the strength.”
“Now that’s right good news.” Caleb took his place in the chair.
“He also said that Mrs. Norgaard is planning on taking us in?” A shadow flickered on her brow. She sighed.
“I know, you hate to be a burden. For such a bitty woman you got a powerful sense of burdening.” Caleb leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “If’n that is bothering you so much, I got an ideal way you can pay her back.” He raised a hand, palm out. “Now give me a minute before you go spluttering at me. We was to have a Christmas pageant on Christmas Eve. The town had been preparing for weeks but the blizzard wiped it right out. Now Pastor says we will have it on Sunday, New Year’s Day. There’s only been one real problem all along and that’s that we’ve had no baby Jesus. All the babies born around here were just too big for Mary Moen to handle in the manger and all. Now, if you would be willing for little Angel there to star in her first performance, we would all be mighty grateful. Just didn’t seem right having a doll play the part, even though Ingeborg Moen made a right fine rag doll of the appropriate size.”
Mrs. Carlson breathed a kiss on the brow of her sleeping infant and raised her sapphire gaze to the sheriff’s face.
“We’d be right proud to do that. But I have a favor of you. Please would you make sure I get to the service too. If’n I can’t walk well enough, perhaps you could carry me.”
Caleb knew what the doctor would say. And it would be in no uncertain terms. He also knew what it cost this woman to ask for help. Besides, he’d carried her before and she was some slimmer now. He nodded. “What Doc Harmon don’t know can’t hurt him. But know this. If you get sicker because of it, he will have my head.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” She smiled again and her eyes drifted closed. “Now if I could only stay awake for more’n a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll be back later with the carriage to take you to Gudrun’s house. She thinks you’ll get well faster when you can be with your children. And when Mrs. Norgaard says something, not too many of us argue with her.” But when he took Angel back in his arms, he realized the mother hadn’t heard a word he said. Her soft, even breathing told more of her improving state than her worries about staying awake—and being beholden.
The move was accomplished with a minimum of fuss with the doctor promising to call on his way back from checking on the other new mother.
Clara returned to the kitchen after looking in again on the small family. “They’re all sound asleep, Henry curled
up next to his mother and Sam on the rug—for a change.”
Mrs. Hanson shook her head. “Dogs ain’t to be in the house, let alone the bedroom.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “But if it helps that little fellow, I guess we’ll all put up with it.”
“You try to sound so stern, but we all know you have a cream puff for a heart.” Clara helped herself to a cup of coffee. “Any word on where they might have come from?”
Caleb shook his head. “I didn’t ask but nothing has come through. It’s like they appeared out of nowhere. That man that we found dead, though, his family claims he got shot in a fight at the local saloon over in Drayton and hightailed it before the sheriff come. They’ll be over for the body tomorrow.”
“Such goings-on.” Gudrun thumped her cane for emphasis. “So, what’s this I hear about our baby playing the part of baby Jesus?”
“I just thought it might help Johanna, er, Mrs. Carlson . . .” He made the change at the raised eyebrow of the town matriarch. “To feel not quite so beholden.” He knew better than to call the woman by her first name but it seemed they’d been friends for a lot longer than four days, after what all they went through together. But since when had she become Johanna in his mind?
“That was good thinking on your part.” Gudrun tipped her chin so she looked over the tops of her gold wire glasses. “You’d best be careful, though, Caleb. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt in all this.”
What was she, a mind reader as well? Could she sense what Caleb was already beginning to feel? Caleb took a sip of his coffee. He knew how to keep a close rein on his feelings . . . After all, he’d been doing that for years.
Chapter 9
What am I going to do?
Johanna planted another kiss on the soft fuzz of her baby’s head. Never had she felt sheets so fine or slept in such a bed with carved posts at all the corners, until she came to this house. Surely she had died and gone to heaven. But the pain in her chest let her know this was still earth. When oh when would she be able to feed her daughter as she ought?
Dakota December and Dakota Destiny Page 6
