“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, but work has kept me slaving away.”
She withheld a smile since he hadn’t showed up when he’d said he would, but said, “I understand.”
He removed his gloves. “Do you have a moment?”
“Yes, I can use the break from weeding. Why don’t we have a seat on the porch? Can I get you something to drink?” He followed her toward the house, and she saw Robert turn from the potato field to glance at them.
“No, but thank you. I can only stay a short time. Frank will be expecting me.”
They took a seat in the rockers on the porch. “Oh, are you working on a big case together?” Grace asked.
“Not really, just general law stuff. Nothing that would interest you, I’m sure.”
She leaned over her rocker’s arm to ask, “So tell me—do you like working with Frank? Ginny and I are very good friends.”
“So she tells me. You must get very lonely out here away from town.”
“Oh, town’s not that far, and there’s plenty here to keep me busy.”
“I’m sure, but you’re isolated from people. When’s the last time you’ve been out to a restaurant?”
Grace narrowed her gaze in thought for a moment. She really couldn’t remember, but it had been a very long time.
“See what I mean? How about I come for you Saturday night for a nice dinner in town?” He flashed her a charming smile.
“Well . . .” She hesitated. “I don’t see why not. I’d like to get my pop settled before I leave. He’s been having some health issues.”
“That’s no problem. I’ll pick you up—say, about six o’clock?”
When she nodded he grinned. “Perfect!” he said, rising from the chair. “I must hurry along for now, but I shall be looking forward to spending an evening with you.”
“I’m flattered.” Grace felt her face flush, then followed him down the porch steps.
“Not at all. A pretty lady like you needs the attention of an eligible man, and I’m just the one to see to it.” He lifted her hand to kiss the top—much to her surprise. “See you soon, Grace.”
Quickly he was off and galloping out of the front yard, leaving behind a trail of dust. Grace couldn’t help but turn in the direction of Robert, who was now walking over.
“Is there trouble or something you need help with?” he asked when he drew near.
“Oh, no! Not at all. Warren works for Ginny’s husband, Frank. He’s asked me out to supper Saturday night.”
He stared openly at her and her heart pinged under the scrutiny of his pensive eyes. “I see. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I didn’t think you were, only looking out for us out here. Excuse me, but I must finish the weeding before I start supper.”
He started to walk away but paused, then asked, “You said yes, didn’t you?”
“Not that it’s your concern, but yes I did, and I’m looking forward to getting out for a change.” Was it possible that he looked at her a little longer than ordinary? Or was she imagining it? If so, it was the first time two men had ever been interested in her at the same time. Maybe they were just being nice. Don’t let your heart rule your head. But she smiled as she returned to the garden, taking note of the thoughtful expression on Robert’s handsome face.
Tom set off down the road away from town, taking his sweet time and pausing to watch a herd of antelope in the lush valley. They sure were a pretty sight, but he knew Indians and most folks hunted them for food. It was hard enough for him to kill a rabbit for stew.
He heard animated voices ahead and slowed his steps. He normally passed a farmer or two on their way to town and back. He hoped there weren’t Indians nearby. He’d seen them once, far away, close to the foothills. They’d seemed peaceful and ignored him for the most part. Still, he needed to be cautious. Before rounding the curve in the dirt-packed road, he walked quietly along the edge to creep behind the brush—just in case.
It wasn’t Indians or a farmer. To his surprise, a well-dressed man stood with his thumbs in his pockets talking to the driver of a wagon. Then he walked to the back of the wagon, lifted the tarp, and seemed to be counting cartons. Tom wondered what was in them.
The businessman circled back around to the man in the wagon. “Okay. Looks good.” Tom couldn’t hear much of what they said. The man on the wagon seat leaned down to hand the businessman an envelope while chewing on a wad of tobacco in his mouth, then finally landed a spit some yards away. Amazing, Tom thought, to be able to spit that far. He’d like to try that sometime, but he knew Robert wouldn’t allow it, and without a friend to challenge, there wouldn’t be much fun in it.
The two men shook hands and the businessman got back on his horse, giving it a swift kick in the ribs before heading back in the direction of town. The other man took the fork in the road after a crack of his whip across the two horses’ backs.
Tom pushed through the brush and back onto the road, thinking it seemed a mighty odd meeting to him. He was glad they hadn’t seen him in case they were up to no good. He had to hurry home to beat Robert back from work before supper. His stomach growled, reminding him he was fiercely hungry.
Grace saddled Cinnamon, determined not to let the day pass before enjoying a ride in the country. Her pop was napping and Robert had already left for the day. She had to admit, she was more than a little curious about how he spent his time. Maybe he had someone he regularly saw in town. Once she’d been tempted to follow him, but she decided that was out of the question.
The breeze lifted the sash on her bonnet, but the wind and air felt fresh on her face so she let her bonnet hang down her back. She hadn’t ridden this far or as fast in quite some time, and it was obvious that Cinnamon needed the workout as well.
Columbines and asters dotted the Gallatin Valley, while the tender pale-green leaves of the cottonwoods were beginning to unfurl. She felt alive and exhilarated with the adventure of being one with nature and totally alone for the ride . . . or at least she thought she was.
There was something in the distance in the clearing between a stand of pines trees that caught her eye. As she slowed Cinnamon to a trot, it became apparent that it was a campsite—on her property. What in the world? She drew closer but continued with caution.
“Hello there!” she said, drawing the horse up and dismounting. To her surprise, the three grubby children she’d met twice before rose from the campfire with shocked looks on their faces, as if they’d been caught red-handed. “Where are your parents? I must speak with them.” Grace fought to control her irritation and waited for an answer.
The boy—Tom, she remembered—stepped up closer. “I remember you—you’re the lady with the funny duck!”
“And so I am, but can I please speak to your mother? Or is she not around?”
The little one grasped her older sister’s hand. “Tell her, Becky, that we don’t have a mama.”
“Shh, Sarah.” Becky frowned down at the little girl and Tom shifted in his boots.
“What do you mean? Are you children here all alone?” This was getting more confusing than the first time Grace saw them at the mercantile. That would explain why the children looked unkempt.
“No, they’re not alone. They’re with me,” a familiar voice behind her said.
Grace turned around. “Robert? What are you doing here? I don’t understand—”
“I’ll explain everything.” Robert walked from behind the wagon parked just out of view of the campfire.
Her mind was whirling. Whatever was going on here—right under her nose? “Yes, indeed you will. Did you know that this is my property? How long have you been camping here?”
“Long enough to know we hate living outside,” Becky offered, and Robert threw her a look to silence her.
“Children. I need to speak with Grace. I mean, Mrs. Bidwell.”
“Got yourself in hot water now, Papa, haven’t you,” Tom jeered, then disappeared from the clearing.
“Tom—” Ro
bert’s voice was stern.
“I want to stay right here and look at the pretty lady,” Sarah said, smiling up at Grace.
Grace almost forgot her fury with the child’s remark. Sarah allowed Becky to pull her back to the pot over the campfire to help peel potatoes, although they were still within earshot.
Robert strode over to her and motioned for them to walk away from the children. “Grace, I was trying to be out of here before you ever found out we were staying here.”
“I don’t understand any of this. Why have you all been living in a wagon outdoors in the first place? This is not the Dark Ages, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She stared into his eyes, hoping for some easy answer to explain this dubious predicament. “And with children, no less!” If he only knew the soft spot she had for children, he would’ve understood her anger. She felt the girls’ eyes on them, but when she looked over at them, they pretended to busy themselves with supper.
“I know that it’s none of my business what my hired help does outside of his work, but don’t you think you could have enlightened me when there were children involved—”
“Please, Grace. Take a deep breath, and I’ll do my best to explain as much as I can.”
“You mean as much as you care to!” Really! She had a good mind to turn him in to the authorities. Her heart twisted in her chest. They needed a mother. One hard look at them told her that. “You better have a clear explanation why you’ve been living in the woods of all places, on my property, alone with three children!”
15
Robert had never seen Grace like this in the short time he’d known her. She was angry, but other than the fact they’d camped on her land, he wasn’t sure why she was so riled up. Her eyes snapped with annoyance and her cheeks flushed a bright pink.
As far as an explanation, he only owed her the fact that he’d trespassed, which was true.
“If you’re finished railing at me, I’ll try to explain this to you.” He directed her toward the path in the woods. “Let’s walk and talk for a moment.”
She allowed him to lead her into the wooded stand of pines out of earshot of the children. It was cooler under the trees and the fresh scent of pine and evergreen enveloped them.
“I’m listening, Robert.”
“Truth is, I’d planned on getting rooms at the boardinghouse as soon as I could save enough money. I really had no idea this was part of Bidwell Farms or I might’ve asked you if we could pitch camp. We weren’t bothering anyone, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else nearby. Besides, it was close enough for the children to walk to school.”
Her eyes narrowed with concern in them. “I’m a bit surprised.”
“Unfortunately, yes, they are my children,” he admitted reluctantly.
As soon as he said the words, he saw his mistake. Grace stopped walking and looked at him as her mouth flew open, then she clamped it shut just as fast. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was a bad choice of words.”
Her lips formed a tight line of disgust. “Indeed.”
They continued walking. “Look, Grace, I know now that I was trespassing, and I’m begging your forgiveness. I was really pinched for money after my wife died and I lost the farm. Since their aunt brought the children to me to raise, we’ve been on the road trying to find a place to settle.” He sighed, realizing he was telling her more than he intended.
“Why was their aunt bringing them to you? That makes no sense at all to me, Robert.”
Robert swallowed. His tongue felt thick and his mouth dry. “They’re not my children—what I mean to say is I never knew Ada had any children. It was hard for me to accept.” He couldn’t look at Grace but continued to slowly walk, head down, as he observed the crushed clover beneath his feet.
Grace’s voice softened. “I can only imagine.”
“Please, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. You needn’t worry about my affairs.”
“As long as you and the children will come back with me to the farm and stay,” Grace said matter-of-factly.
Robert paused in their walking to face her directly. Was she serious? “This is not your burden. We can’t do that—”
“I insist. You and Tom can sleep in the barn and the girls can sleep in the extra bedroom until you find an adequate place to live.”
“But—”
Grace squared her shoulders, then pulled her bonnet back upon her head. “It’s settled. I want to help as much as I can, Robert. I can’t have an employee of mine with children running loose and uncared for. It isn’t right. What would people say if they knew?”
She’s mighty smug, but pretty when she’s rattled. “I’ve done the best I could by them. They were dumped on me, and I can’t do the same to you, Grace.”
Her hand rested lightly on his forearm. “You won’t be. Trust me on this. I do want to help. Don’t you think it’d be good for the children?”
He scratched his chin, thinking. “I suppose we could give this arrangement a try, if the children agree.”
Her lips broke into a bright smile. “Then let’s go ask them now.”
The last thing Tom wanted was to share a small space in the loft of the barn with Robert at a place where he was working. Now, his every move would be watched by Robert or that lady, although she seemed nice enough. But could she be trusted?
He slipped on his overalls while Robert was still sleeping and hurried down the ladder. Outside, the sun was already up and Mrs. Bidwell was crossing the yard. When she saw him she paused.
“Good morning, Tom. Are you hungry? I’m getting breakfast ready and I’m about to wake your sisters.”
“I reckon.” She was awfully cheerful for this early in the morning, unlike his mama. But looking back now, Tom knew the reason for her lack of energy was because she was very sick. He wished he’d known then. Maybe he could’ve been more of a help and a better son to her. He knew he was hardheaded most of the time. Hadn’t Robert said as much? He blinked back the tears. He was nearly a man now, so he would try not to dwell on it, try to make his mama proud.
“Great! Follow me and we’ll see if I can fill you up.” She gave him a tender smile.
“Want me to go get Robert—I mean, Papa?”
“No need. I’m sure he’ll be along soon. Do you like hotcakes and bacon?”
Tom’s mouth watered. “Oh, yes, ma’am, I do.”
“Then you’re in for a treat, because I have blueberry syrup that I made myself for the topping.” She opened the back door and they stepped inside the kitchen.
Tom almost cried when he entered the homey kitchen that held the heavenly smell of frying bacon. He was sure he must be dreaming. A fat cat was curled up on a rug by the hearth that had a low-burning fire, and the table was set with real Blue Willow dishes just waiting for guests.
“I’m Owen. You must be Tom,” said a man who stood by the stove, frying thick slices of bacon. “Have a seat. I’ll be done with breakfast in a jiffy.”
“Yes, sir.” Tom pulled out a chair and his stomach growled loud enough for anyone to hear. The man walked slowly but not well. Strange, because he didn’t look very old to him.
The kitchen door opened and his sisters came in, smiles mirrored in their faces.
Sarah ran over to him and hugged his neck. “Oh Tom! We slept in a real bed last night.”
He extracted her arms. “I’m glad, Sarah.”
“Yes, it was heavenly,” Becky echoed. “Can I help you, Mrs. Bidwell? I’m used to cooking.”
“Thank you, but Pop and I have it almost ready. Why don’t you two have a seat?” Mrs. Bidwell said.
“Tom, where’s Papa?” Becky asked, pulling out chairs for her and Sarah.
“I see him coming now,” Mrs. Bidwell said as she looked out the window. She turned back to flip the pancakes onto a large platter and carried them to the table.
Robert tapped on the back door, and Mrs. Bidwell stepped over to the door to greet him. “Do come in and join us for breakfast.”
Tom tho
ught she seemed excited to see him, and he wondered about that. It was curious to him. Did she actually like him?
Robert peered past her into the kitchen, and Tom nodded at him. “Grace, you didn’t have to do this. I . . . didn’t expect all this.” He waved his hand over the table laden with food.
Mrs. Bidwell waved the spatula. “What? Did you think I’d have my guests scrounge for their own food?” She chuckled. “Please, come on in or the children will be late for school.”
“Sit by me,” Sarah pleaded.
Robert pulled out a chair next to her and sat down, glancing at Tom and Becky. “I’m glad to see you all up and dressed before me for a change.” Then he turned to Mrs. Bidwell and said, “We can’t thank you enough for your generosity, but we didn’t expect you to wait on us.”
Owen shuffled over to the table with the bacon in hand and set it down. “Morning, Robert. I’m sure Grace is more than happy to cook for someone besides her complaining father,” he said with a smile. “Let me offer the blessing so we can eat.”
This way of living was foreign to Tom, but he could get used to a warm house and food on the table. Would their life ever be like this? He vowed right then that when he grew up, he would have a home with children, and they would never want for anything.
16
After everyone had left and the dishes were done, Grace was in the parlor at her desk writing a list of items she needed from town. The first thing on her list was new frocks for the girls and pants for Tom. She realized that the condition of their clothing wasn’t neglect from Robert as much as it was a lack of cash flow. Three children had been thrust upon him right after he’d lost his own livelihood. She hoped to remedy that or at the very least outfit the children for the last couple of weeks of school before summer break. She hoped Robert wouldn’t mind. She decided she should ask first.
Trusting Grace Page 8
