by Merry Farmer
At least she was able to distract herself with work.
“It’s amazing that more of the bisque fired pieces weren’t broken,” Chastity said as the four sisters and Linda worked together in Faith’s workshop on a Saturday morning, packing up orders.
“I’m pretty impressed that you had all of these parts ready to be finished and assembled before you came out here,” Linda added. She took one of the last dolls to be packed from the table and cradled it. Her eyes misted. “She’s so precious. I keep waiting for her to wake up and reach for me.”
Faith grinned from ear to ear. As far as she was concerned, that was the best compliment Linda could have given her. “It breaks my heart a little bit each time I send one away to a new mommy,” she sighed.
A slight scrape sounded from the open, outside door behind her, but when she peeked over her shoulder, there was nothing there but a cheery view of the ranch in morning light. She ignored the way the hair stood up on the back of her neck, and circled around the table to the shelf where the last baby waited to be packed for shipping. It was a baby boy that she’d dressed in a darling miniature suit that Hope had made. As she carried him to the last empty box, her heart squeezed in her chest.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Linda closed the lid on the baby she’d just packed and moved to Faith’s side, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“I just…I just want one of my own, that’s all.” There. She’d admitted it, gotten it out in the open.
Chastity snorted. “Well, from what I understand, the way you and Cooper have been carrying on, you might just get your wish.”
A twist of anger raced through Faith. She glared at her sister, but as soon as Chastity frowned and shrugged and said, “What?” Faith’s tension drained.
She’d never told any of her sisters what Dr. Morrison had told her. The only person who had been at that appointment with her was her mom. In fact, it was her mom who had grasped the dangers of Faith’s hobby and taken her to be checked out in the first place. The diagnosis had been so devastating—and her mom had spent so much time saying she’d told Faith so—that Faith been unable to reveal the truth, even to her sisters.
What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, but Faith couldn’t let herself hold it against them either. She sighed, forced herself to smile and clear her throat, and put the last baby doll in its box.
“I knew what I was doing when I chose this business over having a family of my own.” She weighed her words carefully, not wanting to provoke any questions that she didn’t want to answer. “I knew that these sweet babies were the only ones I was ever going to see.”
“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense,” Joy said as she sealed the last boxes.
“Trust me, it does.” Faith sighed. “Mama was right when she said that a woman who got herself mixed up in business, especially a business like this, could only do it at the expense of having a family of her own.”
Chastity snorted. “Why, because no man would want a wife who worked?”
She obviously didn’t think much of that, but Faith nodded and added, “At least, a wife who worked doing what I do.”
The weird shuffling sound near the door caught her attention again, but again she ignored it.
“As far as I can see, what you do is bring happiness to people.” Linda continued to rub her back. “If your mom couldn’t see that, then I might have to take her to lunch and explain things to her.”
“It’s not that,” Faith began with a reluctant wince.
She was spared having to explain more when Hope popped her head up from the desk where she was working with the business ledger and calculator, and said, “Look at that.”
They all turned to her. “Look at what?” Chastity asked.
Hope stood and brought the ledger over to the table, where Joy had finished putting mailing labels on the boxes. “Twenty thousand, three hundred and four dollars. That’s how much profit you made in the last quarter.”
Faith’s jaw dropped. “Really?” In the grander scheme of things it wasn’t a ton of money, but for a business that had started from scratch only a couple of years ago and had just moved across the country, a profit of twenty thousand dollars was nothing to sneeze at.
“That’s great.” Joy skipped around the table to look over Hope’s shoulder at the ledger. “That’s really great. What are you going to do with all that money?”
Good question. Faith bit her lip. She didn’t exactly need it to build a house or to put food on the table. What she wanted to do was hand the whole lump sum over to the Culpeppers for the ranch, but if she did that, was she undermining her husband’s ability to solve his own financial problems? Cooper was adamant about being a good husband and doing his duty in that regard. Well, Cooper was adamant about doing his duty in every regard, as she was coming to learn. She wasn’t the sort of girl to go buying shoes and handbags either, and she wasn’t in a position to travel and take exotic vacations at the moment either.
There was really only one option. “I want to give all the proceeds to the daycare,” she declared.
“Really?” Hope’s brow shot up.
“Oh, honey, you don’t need to do that,” Linda added. “It’s running just fine.”
Faith shook her head. “No, but if I give this money to the daycare, it will ultimately go toward buying out the ranch. We can expand the daycare, reach out to even more families and their children. With this money, just think how our services could expand.”
Something by the door clattered and a scattering of stones rolled across the threshold. A second later, Cooper strode into the doorway. Hope, Joy, and Chastity shifted to block his view of the table, just like they’d been used to doing when one of their parents walked into a room to hide what they shouldn’t be doing. Faith’s heart lifted, and she smiled. Cooper still had that effect on her. Why, not three hours ago, they’d greeted the new day with sighs and moans as they tried out an interesting new position she’d found online. On schedule, of course. She flushed at the thought.
But something was wrong. Cooper was flushed too, but there was no naughty, lustful light in his eyes the way there had been that morning. In fact, he looked downright upset. Like she’d bumped him three minutes off schedule or something.
“Cooper.” Faith smiled nonetheless. She left the blockade of her sisters and moved to throw her arms around him in a fond hug. If that didn’t distract him from everything going on in the workshop she didn’t know what would. “What brings you out here? Isn’t there work to be done on the ranch?”
Cooper tensed. Then he relaxed. His arm slipped around Faith. Then he tensed again. Faith glanced up to find his expression in motion, a smile trying to break out, but turning into a frown instead. It was as if the poor man didn’t know what was going on inside his own head.
Of course, it didn’t take much for Faith to realize what that was all about. He did have work on the ranch. He was probably crawling out of his skin to go do it. The man had OCD bad.
“You said you might need my help with something later,” he said at last, jaw stiff.
Faith winced, pulling away from him. “Yeah, I need you to drive me into town while the post office is still open so I can mail some things.”
She tried not to let the guilt show on her face. Her sweet, OCD, cowboy husband probably longed to be out in the fields with the cows or taking a look at whether the hay was ready to harvest or if any of the machinery needed fixing, and here she was asking him to drive her into town. She’d have to make it up to him later.
“Sure,” he said, still stiff. His body tensed beside hers, and he narrowed his eyes. “What are you mailing?”
Faith opened her mouth, but it was as if the invisible force of her worry grabbed hold of her larynx and stopped her from confessing all right then and there. She really, really needed to just tell him what she was doing here in the workshop he’d given to her. He was bound to find out eventually.
“She needs to mail the dolls that she’s made
for people.” It was Linda who spoke up, spilling the beans all over the floor. But she did it with a proud smile and kindness in her eyes. “She makes the most beautiful dolls, Cooper. You should see them.”
Strangely, Cooper’s eyes stayed narrowed. He glanced around the room, like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues. “Dolls, huh?” His gaze settled on the sewing machine she’d set up on the opposite side of the space as the kiln. There were piles of baby fabric on the table beside it and a few unfinished baby outfits and crib accessories. His eyes traveled on to the stack of boxes on the table and the shelf beside it.
At last, he let out a breath, his shoulders dropping, almost as if he were sad or disappointed. “Dolls it is.” He shook his head. “All right, Faith. I’ll drive you to the post office.”
The way he said it, the disapproval in his voice and the scolding in his eyes, brought back every bad memory of her mom and dad figuring out that she wasn’t just making dolls for friends. Faith’s heart sank. It was the same sort of look that had caused her to take the business underground in the first place, the same scolding that had forced her to keep her secrets. It was wooden spoon-level scolding. It meant that she couldn’t tell Cooper what she was doing after all. In spite of what Linda said, he wouldn’t understand or approve.
She twisted her hands together, unable to meet his eyes as she dealt with the shame. “So, uh, can you help me load all these boxes into the back of the truck?”
“We’ll help,” Joy said. She grabbed the top box from the pile and started for the door. As she passed, she gave Faith a confused and curious look.
Faith was confused and curious and turned upside down too. Things had just taken a complicated turn, in spite of the good news about money. She would have to come up with a careful approach to telling Cooper everything she had to tell now.
Mailing babies. Heaven help him, Cooper was collaborating with Faith’s crazy scheme to mail stolen babies to people.
No, that was ridiculous. It was impossible to mail babies. Not only would the U.S. Postal Service realize something was wrong, the babies would start fussing and wailing if they were shut inside of boxes.
“Don’t let your imagination run wild, Coop,” he murmured as he switched his truck into a lower gear as they pulled into town.
“What?” Faith blinked at him from the passenger’s seat. She’d spent most of the trip staring out the window, chewing on her lip.
Cooper winced. He hadn’t meant to speak aloud. Now he’d tipped his hand and given his wife a hint that he knew something was wrong. If only there was a drive-through psychiatrist somewhere in town.
“What?” He echoed her, then went on with, “Oh. Nothing.”
“Where is your imagination running off to?”
Shoot. She’d heard him after all. And now she was smiling that dreamy, distant smile of hers. Why couldn’t she just stay crazy? Crazy he could deal with, but right now, leaning against the passenger door, the sunlight picking out highlights in her hair, she looked more like a sweet goddess than a loopy baby stealer.
“I…I was just thinking how much of a relief it will be when this whole thing is over.” He grimaced over his too-hasty words, focusing on finding a parking place as he turned into the post office lot.
“Over?” The color drained from Faith’s face. She sat up straight, leaning out of the sunlight. “I hadn’t realized you wanted it to be over.”
Well, of course he did. He didn’t want to be mired in anything illegal, not with the ranch at stake. And he didn’t want his wife to suffer any longer than she had to. Whatever was the cause of her crazy, baby-stealing behavior, he would get her the help she needed, and then they could be a happy, normal family.
“Don’t…don’t you want all the stress and the strain and the potential consequences to be over?” He snuck a peek at her before pulling into a spot right near the post office door.
Faith jolted even straighter. She gripped the door handle like she might jump out and make a run for it. “You know about the consequences?”
“Well, yeah.” He breathed out, turning the key to shut off the truck’s engine. “They’re obvious, aren’t they? I mean, everyone knows what happens when you, um, do what you do with babies.”
Faith swallowed hard. She looked like she might burst into tears. “My mom told me this is what would happen. The doctor confirmed it. But I didn’t think that anyone else knew.”
Cooper frowned. “Doctor?”
The color rushed back to Faith’s face all at once. She squirmed in her place. “You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” she asked, barely above a whisper, shrinking back as though he would lash out at her.
The fact that she would believe—even on an subconscious level—that he would ever do anything to hurt her was too much for Cooper to bear. He let out a breath, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t going to hurt her or take any actions that would hurt her.
“Babies,” he said, so low anyone standing even a yard away wouldn’t hear her. “We’re talking about babies, right?”
Faith’s eyes went glassy with tears, and her lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Cooper. I’m so sorry.”
Cooper’s emotions did a one-eighty, from fear and suspicion to heartbreak and compassion. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll get you whatever help you need.”
Faith shook her head. “There’s nothing that anyone can do to help me. It’s all my fault in the first place. But the babies…they make me feel special, like there’s something I’m actually good at. I don’t know if I can give that up.”
Cooper pressed his lips together. There was something he hadn’t thought about. Although he wasn’t sure how stealing babies and selling them to someone else could make a woman feel special. The problem must run even deeper than he thought.
He managed a weak smile and reached out to her. “We can get to the bottom of this. And I swear, I won’t let the law get involved.”
Faith blinked, her tears drying up under a puzzled frown. “The law? What does the law have to do with anything?”
“Well…” Cooper stopped. Maybe what she was doing wasn’t illegal after all? If those women were handing over their babies of their own free will, maybe what Faith was doing was above board.
But then why would she be so upset about it? And why would she and her sisters—and now his mom—hide every time he got close to figuring out what they were doing. Clearly, she wasn’t mailing babies. He didn’t know why that idea had jumped into his head in the first place. Maybe she was sending out boxes of baby supplies to the mothers she’d promised babies to. He thought of the piles of baby clothes he’d seen on the counter next to the sewing machine. And his mom had said she was mailing dolls. Well, maybe she was mailing dolls—dolls and diapers and bottles and stuff to women who were waiting for babies. Cooper wondered who transported the babies themselves.
A knock on the driver’s-side window had him jumping nearly out of his skin. He twisted to see Doc O’Donnell waving at him from the side of the truck. Cooper sent one last concerned look Faith’s way, then opened his door and climbed down from the truck.
“I was just walking by and saw you and thought I’d come over and tell you that I got test results back for your lethargic bull,” Doc started with a broad smile.
Cooper glanced over his shoulder. Faith had climbed out of the truck on the other side and was circling around the back to bring the baby boxes out. She instantly started carrying them into the post office, her face drawn and distracted.
“That’s great.” Cooper followed her with his eyes, ignoring whatever he should have been saying to Doc.
“It’s just a bovine virus,” Doc went on. “I recommend we get him on a quick course of antibiotics. Of course, you’ll have to keep him separated from the ladies until he’s feeling chipper again and until the antibiotics get out of his system. You can never be too careful with regulations these days.”
“Regulations. Right.” Cooper barely heard what Doc said. Through the post office
’s plate-glass window he saw Faith put the box on the counter, then come out for more.
“How old is that bull anyhow? If you’re in the market for a new one, there’s a farmer I know out near Haskell who has a spare he’s looking to sell.”
“Bull,” Cooper repeated.
Bull-something nasty was more like it. As Faith reached the back of the truck to fetch another box, the nosy reporter from the other day came skittering up, heels clicking, to greet her.
“Faith Quinlan,” Nancy Tilson said with a broad smile. “Or, I guess it’s Faith Culpepper now.”
“Yes?” Faith pivoted to meet her, the next box already in her arms.
“Nancy Tilson from the Louisville Recorder.” She held out a hand, but withdrew it with a self-deprecating laugh as soon as she saw Faith’s hands were full. “What am I thinking. Here. Let me help you with that.”
“Okay.” Faith’s reaction wasn’t overly friendly, but Cooper couldn’t blame her for accepting help when he was standing there, talking bull with Doc.
“So are you looking for a new bull?” Doc repeated his question.
Cooper watched the women carry boxes into the post office, set them on the counter with the other, then head back for more. Only they stopped near the door. Nancy leaned closer, her eyes alight as she launched into a speech of some sort.
Cooper didn’t like the look of that at all. He made a move for the door.
Doc caught his arm. “Something wrong?” His friend wore a questioning frown.
Where did he even start? Cooper turned toward him and shook his head. He rubbed his jaw and said, “I know you’re a vet and not a people doctor, but you don’t happen to know of any really top-notch psychotherapists, do you?”
Doc flinched back. “Psychotherapists? Why? Is living out there on that ranch with nothing but family finally getting to you?”
There was more than a little teasing in Doc’s voice, but Cooper shook his head with deadly seriousness.
