Читать книгу Baby On Her Doorstep - Rhonda Gibson - Страница 17

Chapter Five

Clint sighed and ran his hand through his hair. After finishing his evening chores, he found Mrs. Murphy waiting on the porch for him. She sat in one of the two rockers. He greeted her kindly. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy.” He was bone-tired, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed.

He’d stayed close to the house all day and tried to make the arrival of another woman easy on Mrs. Murphy. It didn’t make sense that she was upset with the arrangement. She was the one who had insisted on him getting a nanny for Grace. But it was obvious that the Irishwoman wasn’t happy.

“You have got to talk to that woman.”

Clint blew air out of his lungs before asking, “About?”

“Leaving in the morning and getting another job.”

Was the woman insane? They needed Laura, and from what he’d witnessed throughout the day, Grace liked her. “Look, Mrs. Murphy. I’m not firing Mrs. Lee. You said you didn’t want to take care of Grace, so I went to town and got a nanny. Now you are upset that I did as you asked. What is it that has you all riled up?”

Mrs. Murphy rocked the rocking chair even harder. “She brought another child in the house. I told you I didn’t want children underfoot. I’m too old for such shenanigans.”

“You aren’t that old and they won’t be underfoot. Mrs. Lee will be taking care of them.” His frustration and tiredness was making him sound crankier than an old bull.

“She wanted to help in the kitchen at lunch, and you heard her after supper. She offered to clean off the table.” Mrs. Murphy continued sewing on either an item of clothing or a quilt.

Clint wasn’t sure which and he really didn’t care. He grumbled, “I don’t see the problem. Most women would be happy to have added help.”

Her head came up so quickly, Clint feared she’d snap her neck. “I don’t want help. I’m quite capable of running the household and cooking meals.”

Clint pushed away from the porch post he’d been leaning on. “I’ll talk to her and make sure she knows that you don’t want or need her help. But I am not firing her. Grace likes Mrs. Lee. That’s reason enough to keep her on.”

Mrs. Murphy huffed. “I imagine it don’t hurt that she’s a pretty little thing, either.”

He stopped at the door. “Mrs. Lee’s looks have nothing to do with her taking care of Grace.” Clint yawned and opened the door. He heard Mrs. Murphy muttering behind him but chose to ignore her.

Making his way across the room, Clint tried to figure out what the real reason was that Mrs. Murphy didn’t like Laura. It couldn’t be that she’d brought Hope. As far as he could tell, the schoolteacher only wanted to help. She’d taken care of both the little girls’ plates during supper and offered to help Mrs. Murphy with the cleanup. It looked to him as though the two women should be getting along swimmingly.

He entered his room and pulled his boots off. It was times like these that he missed his wife and ma. Before his ma’s death, the two women had gotten along like sisters. He’d guess that Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Lee were about the same ages as his ma and wife. So why couldn’t they get along as well?

Clint pulled on a fresh pair of socks and then walked the short distance to his old bedroom. Proper or not, he intended to say good-night to Grace. Just as he got to the door, it opened and Laura stepped out, holding Grace on her hip.

“Papa!” Grace held her arms out to him. His normally cheerful child had tearstains on her cheeks.

He took her in his arms and looked to Laura over the little girl’s head. Clint stroked Grace’s tiny back. “What’s wrong, Gracie?”

Laura answered, “She is missing you. Is this the first time she’s slept without you in the room next to her?”

Clint nodded. He pulled Grace back and looked into her sad eyes. “Gracie, did you think I wouldn’t come say good-night?”

The little girl nodded, and fresh tears began silently flowing down her face once more. Grace tucked a tiny index finger between her lips and sucked on it, a sure sign she was distressed.

“Baby, I will always say good-night when I’m home.” He cuddled his daughter against his chest. What was he going to do? It wasn’t proper for him to enter Laura’s room, but to put Grace back to bed, he’d need to do just that.

As if sensing his dilemma, Laura spoke. “Mr. Shepard, if I might make a suggestion.” Laura laid a soft hand against his forearm.

He nodded, noticing for the first time that Laura’s hair hung about her shoulders in what looked like a soft cloud. Her pretty eyes studied his face for several moments, and then she continued.

“Perhaps I should sleep in your room tonight and you return to your old room. That way you will be close to Grace. Hope and I will sleep in your new room tonight, and tomorrow we can make the switch. Since I’m not staying long, it’s only fair to the child that we not disrupt her routine any more than necessary.”

Clint frowned. If he understood correctly, she wanted him to take his room back, and she and Hope would take the guest room down the hall. The way she’d said it sounded confusing, but he thought he understood. “I don’t know.”

Laura’s sweet soft laughter filled him. “Well, I do. I’ll get Hope, and then you can show us our new quarters.” She turned and left him standing in the hallway, hugging Grace and feeling perplexed. What was it with bossy women? Between Laura Lee and Mrs. Murphy, he had lost all control over his household.

* * *

The next morning, Clint felt like a million dollars as he walked down the hall toward breakfast. For the first time in several days he’d slept well. The sun hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Grace slept soundly in her little bed. Life was good.

Laura had been right the night before when she’d told him both he and Grace would sleep better with him in his room. He’d shown her to the spare bedroom where she carried an already sleeping Hope and placed her on the bed. She’d assured him she’d sleep fine with the child, but his plans today were to make the child a bed of her own. It wouldn’t take much, just a little wood and some nails, and he’d have a bed like Grace’s ready before nightfall.

He entered the kitchen. The smell of bacon, eggs and fresh coffee filled the warm space. “Good morning, Mrs. Murphy.”

She nodded in his direction. “Hope you slept well last night.”

“I did.” Clint contemplated telling her that he and Laura had exchanged bedrooms the night before, but then felt it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with her. It might seem cowardly to some, but he’d let Laura handle any questions the older woman might have.

“Well, I still think it was a bad idea to sleep away from our Grace. She probably didn’t sleep nearly as soundly as you did.”

He chuckled. “The child probably slept better than you think.” Clint should correct her, but dab nab it, this was his home, and he didn’t have to answer to his housekeeper.

A moment of remorse hit him like an old mule’s kick. Mrs. Murphy wasn’t just a housekeeper. During the last two years, she’d stuck with him, kept him and Grace fed and cleaned. First, she’d taken care of his late wife and then them. She deserved to know what had happened the night before. “You can rest your mind regarding the child. Mrs. Lee and I exchanged rooms last night. Grace wasn’t taking to my not being there.”

A grin formed on the older woman’s face. “Good. That woman might have some sense after all.”

“Well, that wasn’t the nicest thing to say about Mrs. Lee. She’s very intelligent, kind and thoughtful.” He picked up his favorite cup and filled it with coffee.

She turned back to the stove and pulled out fresh biscuits. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair to the schoolteacher. I’ll do better.”

“MumMum!”

How long had Laura been standing in the doorway with Grace and Hope? Had she heard his defense of her? Or Mrs. Murphy’s declaration to treat her differently?

Nothing on her face gave away her thoughts or feelings. Laura asked, “Is breakfast served in here or the main room?”

Mrs. Murphy hugged Grace against her leg. “Breakfast is always in here.”

Laura’s eyes widened. Was she surprised that the other woman could speak in a nice, calm voice? Or that breakfast was always in the kitchen?

Clint shook his head and walked to the table. He placed his cup on the wood and knelt beside the table for his morning hug from his Gracie. It might look strange to Laura Lee, but he didn’t care.

Grace saw him and quickly released Mrs. Murphy. Her little chubby legs carried her to Clint. He grabbed her close and hugged. This was his favorite time of the morning.

Hope watched.

Clint extended an arm out to the little girl. Like Grace, her real mother was gone. Did the little girl understand? Or was she too young to realize that she’d been given away like a freshly made cake?

The little girl toddled over to him. She fell into his embrace and giggled along with Grace.

His gaze met Laura’s. Her eyes seemed softer, as if cushioned with unshed tears. Were her thoughts on the fact that Hope’s mother and father were missing?

From the looks of things, Hope needed a father figure, and Laura needed a friend. The silly thought came to him that he’d be here for both of them for as long as they needed him.

Clint gently released the girls and stood. The two girls looked up at him. He placed each of them on to a chair at the kitchen table, very aware that the two women watched his every move. He took a sip of coffee, and the bitterness coated his tongue. What had he gotten himself into, with four ladies in his house and not one man to help him muddle through the awkward times?

* * *

A couple of days later, Laura stood back and watched the girls splash water at each other. They both had smelled like hot little puppies when she’d decided they needed a good scrubbing. She glanced up to see Mrs. Murphy standing in the kitchen doorway.

Dread filled her. The other woman hadn’t been mean, but she’d definitely been rude on more than one occasion. Laura put a smile on her face and said, “I hope you don’t mind. The girls needed a good bath.”

Mrs. Murphy returned her smile. “As long as you clean up after them, I’m fine with them taking a bath. My husband used to say, ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’” She chuckled. “I think the dear soul really believed that one was in the Bible.”

Laura couldn’t help but grin at the familiar saying. “I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy in here.”

The other woman waved her hand. “There isn’t any rush.” She came farther into the kitchen. “I just came in to stir the beans and ham hock.” She laid a worn Bible on the kitchen table.

It was good to see that the Irishwoman read from the book. Laura Lee held her own Bible study every morning before the children awoke. She didn’t believe she would survive a day without reading the Word first thing.

The little girls played happily in the water. Their big eyes and smiles filled their tiny faces. This was the first time Clint had been gone from the house all day. Laura had worried Grace would fret, but the little girl hadn’t.

The fragrance of ham filled the kitchen. Laura thought about mentioning that she could make a mean pan of cornbread to go with the beans and ham hock, but changed her mind. It had been a long time since she’d cooked, and over the last few days she’d learned that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t the sort who would let another woman work in her kitchen.

Mrs. Murphy replaced the lid on the bean pot, sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched the girls. “Which do you think I should make? Biscuits or corn bread?” She didn’t take her eyes off the children.

Was she trying to make up for her shortness of the last few days? Laura tilted her head to the side. “Whichever is easier for you.”

The older woman laughed. “That’s a very good answer, but which one do you have—” she tried to imitate a cowboy tone “—a hankerin’ for?”

Laura laughed. The Irishwoman joined in, and the children splashed and giggled all the harder.

When everyone had settled down, Laura answered, “That was the funniest imitation I have ever heard. I think corn bread would be a good choice, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. Corn bread was what I was thinking, too.”

“Good. I...” Laura stopped. She’d almost offered to help again, but decided against it. Mrs. Murphy seemed to be in a pleasant mood, and there was no reason to spoil it.

She helped Grace from the tub of lukewarm water. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s get you dressed.”

Grace giggled and kicked her feet as Laura wrapped a clean towel around her. Mrs. Murphy scooped Hope from the bathwater and proceeded to towel her dry, as well.

“You really don’t have to do that, Mrs. Murphy. I don’t want the girls to be a bother to you, at all.”

She towel-dried Hope’s curly hair. “It’s no bother. And please, call me Camelia.”

Laura sat back on her heels. “So now you want to help with the girls?”

Camelia sat back also. Her gaze met Laura’s, and honesty shone through her words. “I’m sorry. I haven’t behaved in a very Christian manner since you’ve been here. I’m new to this Christian life and don’t always act correctly. I love Gracie, but I just don’t have the patience I used to with children. Or adults, for that matter, but I’m trying to do better.” Her gaze moved to the Bible on the table.

Laura continued drying Grace’s little arms. “I know what you mean. I’m not always good with adults, either. I love children, but oftentimes their parents set my teeth on edge.” The two women shared knowing grins. Then Laura pressed on. “Maybe we can work together and learn from each other.”

Laura held her breath while she pulled Grace’s little dress over her head. What would Camelia think of her suggestion? Laura wanted to befriend the woman. Honestly, she’d never had a woman friend that she could talk and work with. Most women didn’t have time for a widow or friendship. Would Camelia?