Читать книгу Baby On Her Doorstep - Rhonda Gibson - Страница 16

Chapter Four

A few hours later, Clint topped the hill that looked down on his home. For a brief moment, he stopped and enjoyed the view. The house was about a quarter mile from the river that ran across his property. The river supplied water for the fields, livestock and the family. A well had been built a few years earlier, closer to the house so that the women didn’t have to go to the river every day.

Large fruit trees stood in the orchard at the back of the house. He grinned as his gaze moved to the front yard where he’d rigged up a small swing in the oak tree for Grace.

Laura’s soft, stern voice drew his attention. “Grace, you need to sit down. We’re not quite there yet.”

With a frown, Grace did as she was told. She was two and a handful. After being cooped up in the wagon all morning, Grace was ready to get out and play. Hope lay curled in a ball beside her, sound asleep.

He led the way down the hill and home. A few minutes later, Laura pulled the wagon up in front of his ranch home. Clint had come to realize that unlike Grace, Laura wasn’t a big talker. She’d spoken softly to the girls during the trip and was very observant of her surroundings but didn’t force a conversation between them.

What did the schoolteacher think of his home? He turned to look at her. She stared at the house but didn’t say anything. Grace stood once more and began babbling with excitement.

Her gaze broke from the house. “Hold on, Grace. I know you want out of the wagon.” She looked down at Hope.

Clint tried to envision his home from her perspective. The house was built in the typical farmhouse style. Long with windows positioned to catch the most sunlight during the day. He and his hired man, Richard, had whitewashed it a few weeks ago, so it looked fresh and clean.

The vegetable garden was off to the right, the barn and chicken coop to the left. A wide front porch offered shade in the afternoons along with the tall apple tree that grew a few yards away.

He expected that most women would be gushing and telling him what a beautiful home he had, but not Mrs. Lee. She simply tended to the little girls. Clint frowned. What did it matter what she thought? Laura Lee would only be here a few weeks, and then she’d be returning to her schoolhouse and town. Clint told himself it didn’t matter, but for some odd reason, it did.

He leaped from his horse and tied it to the rail in front of the porch. Then he hurried to the wagon where he kissed the top of Grace’s head before continuing around the wagon to help Laura down. “I hope you are happy here during your stay.” Clint took her hand in his to help her down. The warmth and softness sent a spark of awareness up his arm.

Once her feet were securely on the ground, Laura gently pulled her hand from his. “I’m sure I will be.” She turned to the wagon.

Grace jabbered excitedly as she waited for him to lift her out. Her impatience pulled Clint from the wonder of Laura’s eyes and touch. He scooped his sweet daughter up and set her on the ground. She toddled toward the house, babbling happily.

Laura gently woke Hope and then helped her from the wagon. She hugged the little girl close and then sat her on the ground. A smile brightened Laura’s face as she watched the little girl waddle after her new friend.

Grace stopped and waited for Hope. She took Hope’s small hand in her own and then continued to the porch. Neither adult understood a word Grace said, but Hope nodded sleepily with a grin.

Laura turned to him. “They are so sweet together.”

Clint gathered several of the bags from the wagon and followed the girls. His mind was on the connection he’d briefly felt while holding Laura’s hand. Had she felt it, too? If she had, she hadn’t shown it. Was he making too much of it? He hadn’t felt that kind of connection since his wife. Clint swallowed hard.

He would ignore the feeling. His heart couldn’t take another breaking like the one he’d felt the day Grace’s mother had died. Clint silently vowed never to feel such pain again. Never.

* * *

Laura waited until Clint continued to the house. She released the pent-up breath in her lungs. Had he felt the electrical current between them? Or was she just being hypersensitive? So much had happened since the previous morning, Laura didn’t know what to think of this newfound feeling.

She turned at the sound of Grace’s excited squeal. “MumMum!”

A middle-aged woman with red hair and sparkling green eyes stepped through the front door. She smiled sweetly at Grace, who had grabbed her skirt and was hugging her legs. “Well, hello, wee one.” She leaned over to hug the child close.

Hope stood beside Grace looking confused. She glanced back at Laura until Grace grabbed her hand and jerked her forward.

Grace babbled up at the redheaded woman and pointed at Hope.

She nodded. “I see. We have another wee one underfoot.” A sprig of red hair mixed with gray at her temples escaped the thick braid that ran down her back. Her sharp green gaze seemed to pierce Clint Shepard.

Laura straightened her shoulders, scooped up two of her bags and walked to the porch. She sat her luggage down on the edge of the wood.

Before she could introduce herself and Hope, Clint said, “Mrs. Murphy, this is Laura Lee. She’s Grace’s new nanny.”

Clint walked back to the wagon.

Mrs. Murphy’s gaze moved over her, studying her, evaluating her. “Is the wee one yours?” She looked down at Hope, who had plopped down on the porch and was now trying to pick up a small insect.

Laura shook her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Murphy. Please feel free to call me Laura.”

“Mrs. Lee, if the wee one isn’t yours, whose is she?” Confusion pulled at the skin between Mrs. Murphy’s eyes.

Laura was very aware that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t pleased with Clint’s choice of nanny. The sharpness in her tone and the way her gaze moved over Laura as if evaluating her spoke volumes of her displeasure. What had the older woman expected?

“Mrs. Murphy, don’t you think that is a bit personal?” Clint asked, walking back to them. He carried another bag and what appeared to be a box of kitchen supplies.

She huffed. “Not if she’s going to be living here. She could have stolen the child for all I know.”

Laura felt a rush of irritation at the woman’s rude behavior. She pulled her shoulders back and held her head high. “No, I most certainly did not steal Hope. I have a letter stating she is in my care.” She picked up Hope. The little girl snuggled her face into Laura’s neck.

Clint walked around the women and continued inside. “I’ll show Mrs. Lee and Hope to their rooms.”

Laura set a wiggling Hope back down and picked up the bags she’d discarded earlier. Then she followed Mrs. Murphy and the girls inside.

Mrs. Murphy’s voice stopped him. “You’ll do no such thing.”

He turned to face her. “Mrs. Murphy, she’s staying.”

“Perhaps so, but it isn’t proper for you to be in her room.” The Irishwoman’s green eyes dared him to argue with her.

What kind of relationship did these two people have? Was Mrs. Murphy hired help? Or a part of the family? Laura watched as the two stared at each other. The muscles worked in Clint’s jaw. His eyes never left Mrs. Murphy’s as he said, “Then you show her to her room, and I’ll finish unloading the wagon.”

Mrs. Murphy nodded curtly and then turned to Laura. “If you will follow me.” She didn’t wait for Laura to agree. Her skirt swished as she walked briskly down a hall. “Your rooms are behind the kitchen. I told Clint he didn’t have to give up his room, but he insisted. It will be warm for the children come winter.”

If he’d given up his room, where was Clint staying? Not that it should matter to her, but Laura couldn’t help but wonder why he’d give up his room for the hired help.

“I don’t intend to be here that long,” Laura answered.

Mrs. Murphy stopped so fast that it took all Laura could do not to run over her. “What’s this you say?”

“Hope and I will only be here a few months, then I’ll be returning to my job in town.” Laura shifted the bags in her arms.

“Your job in town?” She crossed her arms and waited for Laura to answer.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m the schoolteacher.”

Mrs. Murphy nodded and then continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a closed door. “These are your rooms.” Ice seemed to drip from her voice. She opened the door and took a step back.

Who was the woman angry at? Her? Or Clint for hiring someone who wasn’t going to be permanent?

Laura followed Grace and Hope into the room. It was larger than she’d expected and felt warm and inviting. A large bed rested against the far wall. Other pieces of furniture filled the room. But it was obvious from the lack of lacy curtains, pretty rugs and of any type of feminine touch that this was a man’s room.

“Lunch will be in a few minutes.” Mrs. Murphy spun around and headed back down the hallway.

Grace and Hope toddled about the room. Hope seemed to take in each and every new item that Grace appeared to be showing her. Laura walked to the window and looked outside. A tall tree stood beside the window, offering shade and the potential of cool summer breezes. She turned back to the room and noticed another door to the side.

Hadn’t Mrs. Murphy said “rooms?” Laura walked across the hardwood floor and opened the door. She was pleasantly surprised to find a small dressing room with a big chair and bookshelf inside. The room also contained a child-sized bed. A chest rested at the foot of the bed, and dolls and stuffed animals sat on its top. It was obvious that this was Grace’s room.

Grace followed and babbled off something. Pretending as if she understood her, Laura answered, “I like your room, too, Grace. But I’m thinking it might be nice if Hope shared your room with you. Would that be all right with you?”

The little girl nodded and babbled away to Hope. She hurried across the room and picked up a small stuffed dog and brought it back to Hope.

Hope smiled at Grace and hugged the toy to her chest. Laura grinned. If Grace was a normal two-year-old, and Laura knew that she was, she’d be demanding her doggie back soon enough. While the girls played, Laura quickly unpacked the bags she’d brought inside. The top two drawers were empty, and her and Hope’s few belongings fit nicely.

Just as she turned to gather the girls up to go get another bag and her box of books, Mrs. Murphy arrived with both. She set the crate of books inside the door and placed Hope’s small bag on top, then turned without speaking and left. That book box was heavy, but evidently Mrs. Murphy was stronger than she’d first appeared.

As a schoolteacher, Laura occasionally dealt with unhappy parents and decided to treat Mrs. Murphy as one. The older woman made it more than obvious that she wasn’t happy with Clint’s choice in nannies. But what choice had he had? It wasn’t like there were a slew of unmarried women about who needed a job out in the middle of nowhere. Laura put away the remaining few belongings she’d purchased earlier for Hope.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up Hope and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Let’s go have lunch, ladies.”

Grace chattered as they walked back to the front of the house. Laura wished she could understand the little girl, but since she couldn’t she simply smiled and nodded a lot. Hope giggled down at Grace.

The smell of frying ham greeted her as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. Mrs. Murphy stood at the stove, turning the meat over with a long fork. She frowned as Laura and the girls entered the room.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Laura asked as she sat Hope down on one of the chairs that surrounded an oblong table.

Her Irish accent filled the kitchen with authority. “No, my job is to cook. Yours is to take care of Grace.”

Laura nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mind helping out.”

Mrs. Murphy turned from the stove. She shook the fork at her. “If you want to help, keep the children out of my kitchen until you are called.”

So that was how it was going to be. Laura tilted her head to the side and studied the older woman. Why was she so unhappy? Had she hoped Clint couldn’t find a nanny? If so, why not? Or, was she simply worried Laura would become even more important to Clint and Grace and she wouldn’t be needed? Or, as she’d thought earlier, was she angry that Clint had hired a temporary nanny and not a full-time one?

Mrs. Murphy dropped her eyes and returned to the sizzling ham.

“Come along, girls.” If Mrs. Murphy didn’t want her in the kitchen, Laura vowed not to return until asked. As stubborn as the woman seemed, Laura had a feeling that would be the last time she saw the interior of the kitchen for the remainder of her stay.

Grace and Hope each took one of her hands and they left the warmth of the room. Laura hated that she wouldn’t be allowed to cook or help out while she was here. It shouldn’t matter to her. Her job was to care for Grace. But it did matter. For some reason, it mattered a lot.