Mail-Order Christmas Baby. Sherri ShackelfordЧитать онлайн книгу.
Morris tipped his head toward the ceiling in thoughtful consideration. “Someone has treated this child with reckless disregard for her safety. Someone left her on a train. Alone. Even if we find her mother and father, what then? What if they don’t want her back? We have to consider the child’s interests.”
Vigorously shaking her head, Heather mentally backed away. She had sympathy for the child, but none of this was her responsibility. “I’m sure there’s a charity in Butte that will care for her.”
She flicked a glance at the smiling child. There was no reason for her to feel guilty. Someone else would look out for her.
Since gold had been discovered in Montana, the population of the territory had exploded. There was an almost balanced mix of sin and salvation. Churches had sprung up in equal numbers beside saloons. There were plenty of charities in Butte that were far more suited to look after a child. Because there would be implications in keeping the child here. Grave, life-altering implications.
Except the idea of leaving Grace with strangers caused her head to start thumping. Heather pressed her palm against the pain. Who would abandon such a sweet and innocent smile?
The reverend’s expression remained somber. “If Sterling is unable to locate the parents, leaving the baby in Butte will only make matters more difficult for both of you in Valentine. Folks are already convinced she’s your daughter. If you simply abandon her, they’ll assume the worst. If we can’t discover the truth, you’ll be branded with an unpleasant reputation. You’ll have to leave Valentine, or stay and bear the talk.”
Heather jerked upright. “Surely you’re exaggerating.”
The throbbing in her head increased. She couldn’t shake an odd feeling of betrayal. The Blackwells had brought her nothing but trouble. She hadn’t lied when she’d told the reverend she had no feelings for Dillon. He was an embarrassing footnote in her life. Through no fault of her own, her name was being slandered along with Sterling’s. Nausea roiled in her stomach. In Valentine, all her difficulties seemed to circle back to the Blackwells.
Grace clamped her teeth on the pew once more, and Heather eased her away. The child wailed and flailed her arms.
“Gra! Gra!”
Heather instinctively rubbed her back in soothing circles and gently shushed the angry child.
“That’s another thing.” The reverend focused his attention on Grace with searing intensity, as though she might reveal the secret of her origins if he just looked hard enough. “Who is going to watch her for the time being?”
Sterling coughed into his fist and stared at the tips of his boots. Otto flicked a glance in her direction. The reverend discovered an intense fascination with the button on his sleeve.
Heather’s pulse picked up speed. Surely they wouldn’t leave the babe with her? She knew absolutely nothing about children. Not to mention that people would judge. And gossip.
“I don’t think I should be seen with her.” She flashed her palms. “The more people connect us, the more they’ll gossip.”
“It’s too late already,” Sterling said. “There are half a dozen curious gossips milling outside the door right now. I’m surprised there isn’t a nose pressed against the window.”
Heather winced. How many times in the past had she let her own curiosity get the better of her? Not even an hour ago she’d been on the other side of the rumor mill. She’d been part of the crowd. How quickly circumstances had changed.
She peered out the window and immediately jerked back. Sure enough, a half dozen people were milling about. Gracie reached for one of her earbobs, and Heather ducked out of reach. She’d done plenty of things over the years without the benefit of training. Young children were no different. Just as with her students, they didn’t come with instructions. The trick was never showing fear.
If she didn’t take responsibility for the child, who would?
“I’ll watch her,” Heather conceded.
“Thank the Lord for your kindness.” The reverend clasped his hands as though in prayer. “The poor child deserves care. I’ll do my best to stem the talk,” he added. “But I can’t make any promises.”
Heather’s heartbeat slowed to a normal pace. There had to be a logical reason for the turn of events. By this time next week, her life would be back to normal.
Except there were moments in life that changed a person. There were moments that changed the course of events, whether a person was ready for the upheaval or not. She had the uneasy sensation this was one of those moments.
Sterling fastened his coat. “If there’s something to find, I’ll find it.”
Heather breathed a sigh of relief. By this time next week, this whole incident would be nothing more than a funny story the folks of Valentine whispered about over coffee in the morning. She merely had to care for the child for a few days. Her cousins had only been a year or two older, and she’d cared for them quite often. How much difference did a year or two make in the life of child?
If only there was someone she could lean on for help and advice. During her time in Valentine, she hadn’t made a single close friend beyond Helen, and Helen was too far away to help.
As the schoolteacher, she was in an odd position. She’d been young enough when she arrived that she was only a few years older than her students, but much younger than their parents. Now, women her age were busy with husbands and younger children. She had acquaintances, but no one in whom to confide.
Sterling sidled nearer. “Don’t worry, I’ll find the truth.”
“I know you will.”
A disturbing sense of intimacy left her light-headed. In the blink of an eye her painstakingly cultivated air of practicality fled. Then he turned his smile on the babe, and the moment was broken.
She set her lips in a grim line. His deference was practiced and meant nothing. She must always be on guard around Sterling Blackwell. She must always remember that she was no more special to him than the woman who typed out his telegrams.
He treated everyone with the same indolent consideration, and yet she’d always been susceptible to his charm.
She smoothed her hand over Grace’s wild curls. They were both alone, but now they had each other.
At least for the time being.
* * *
A week after Grace’s unexpected arrival, Sterling adjusted his collar and straightened his string tie in the mirror on the way out the door Sunday morning. He snatched his hat from the peg and loped down the front stairs.
He’d sent a terse telegram to Dillon instructing him to return home immediately. His brother hadn’t been able to attend the funeral, and they’d planned a memorial ceremony upon his return. That was two months ago. From what Dillon wrote in his letters, you’d think the entire West would descend into lawless mayhem without his oversight. No man was irreplaceable. It was time for Dillon to come home and assume responsibility for his half of the ranch.
Sterling had been given a second chance to set things right. He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew where to start.
Otto had the wagon hitched, and the ranch hands were already seated in the back. Five men in all, including the foreman, and they each called a greeting. Only Otto had been around during his father’s time. The bunkhouse had been deserted when Sterling returned two months ago. The ranch had fallen into disrepair during his absence. They were only half staffed currently, which meant there was plenty of room in the bunkhouse for him if his brother moved into the house with his new family.
His step hitched. Could he stay and see them every day? He slammed his hat on his head and strode forward. The right thing and the easy thing were rarely the same.
Otto wore a frown on his normally placid face. “You got in late last night. What happened