Chasing Clovers (4 page)

She
stiffened. This was true. Fort McLeod was a rough town, with two saloons a trading post and that was about it. No respectable woman lived there, unless she was married. And Livy was neither.

"
It wasn't that bad. I didn't live there for long."

"
Well, you're here now." She patted Livy's hand.

Yes, I am
, even though I've lied through my teeth to get here.

After their visit, Alice gave the girl a hug, promising to come back soon. "Now you be good for Miss Green."

The child nodded as they stood on the porch saying their farewells. She waved, as Alice's buggy pulled away. A part of her longed to go with her. To escape the life she was now destined to live.

"
Are you gonna be our new Ma?" asked a high pitched voice from behind her.

S
he turned and spotted a boy no taller than her waist standing in the doorway of the house. He wore jean overalls and a black cowboy hat that was too large for his head. If it wasn't for his ears, the thing would surely fall past his eyes to rest on his nose.

"
You must be Benjamin," she said. It was much easier to look at this child. In fact she had no problem at all.

He stood and stared at her with the same dark brown eyes as his father's. "Can ya cook?"

What was with the men in this house? All they cared about was filling their bellies.
"Well," she said, hesitating, "I can cook a little."

Who are you kidding
? You can't cook at all.

He wrinkled his face. "I'll just eat with the men, till ya get the hang of things."

"
You'll do no such thing." John's voice came from behind her, and she jumped.

When had he gotten her
e? These people were like ghosts, surprising her at every moment.

"
Ahh, Pa," the boy said, "she said she can't cook."

"
No, she said she hasn't done much cookin'," John corrected.

"
Same thing."

"
Mind your manners, son. She'll need a few days to get comfortable."

"
Actually," Livy interjected, "Alice made a nice stew, and it's on the stove now. Me and―your sister and I have vegetables to clean and add to it. So there will be a nice supper tonight."

John smiled at his son.
"See? You like stew. There's no need for you to eat with the hands."

"
Well," Ben said, squinting, "if Alice made half of it, it can't be that bad."

"
That's my boy."

They spoke
as though she weren't standing there. Something she was used to. While growing up in a saloon, no one ever paid her any attention. It wasn't until she'd grown old enough to sing for money that all eyes were on her―and not in a good way.

She shuddered at the awful memories invading her mind
.

"
Are you cold?" John asked.

"
Yes."
Another lie.

"
There are some sweaters hangin' on the back porch. Feel free to use them anytime."

"
Thank you."

John bent and picked up the g
irl. "How's my Angel today?"

The familiar name caught
her off guard. She almost answered, and was relieved that the girl's giggle stopped her.

He
tickled his daughter, nuzzling his chin into her neck.

She
hadn't heard the child utter a word yet and was startled at the innocent sound overflowing from her petite mouth.

"
Papa, don't twickle me." She wiggled in his arms to get free from his grip.

He
put her down and playfully swatted her behind. "You go help Miss Livy with supper."

The girl squealed and ran into the house
.

His da
rk eyes rested on Livy. "You find everything you need?"

"
Yes, thank you." She averted her eyes. He made her uncomfortable, but not in the same way the men in the saloons had. She didn't feel the need to flee and cower in her room. It was something else, something she'd never experienced before.

"
Come on son, I'll race ya to the barn."

The boy hopped
off the porch and ran ahead of his Pa, laughing merrily.

"
Cheater," John yelled before chasing after him.

She
watched the father-son moment. A gnawing ache wrapped around her heart and squeezed until her breath caught in her throat and she had to look away.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

When Livy entered the kitchen, she couldn
't help but notice the girl. Emily had pushed a chair over to the counter and was ready to help clean the vegetables.

She
stopped and took two deep breaths before she spoke, refusing to look at her. "Do you know where the aprons are?"

The girl jumped down,
opened a drawer, and pulled out two cloth aprons. She took one and put it on. The child remained motionless.

"
You can't put it on yourself?" she asked, concerned that she would have to help her―touch her.

The girl shook her head
.

"
All right, I'll help."

After the apron was tied,
she let the girl shell the peas into a bowl while she chopped potatoes and peeled carrots. Once she was done, Livy tossed the vegetables into the steaming pot, and grabbed the bowl of peas. Five peas rolled around inside the bowl. Emily had eaten the rest and now stood on her chair, sucking on a shell.

She
stirred the five peas into the stew. "Alice said to let it simmer for the next hour."

She
placed the pot at the back of the stove as Alice had instructed. She wiped her hands on her apron and headed for the door, intent on unpacking. A loud crash, followed by a piercing cry reminded Livy of the child in the kitchen. She ran back into the room. Emily lay on the floor, crying. Blood seeped from her mouth.

Livy stood frozen.
Help her.
But her legs wouldn't move.

Guilt washed over her.
This was her fault.

Staring at the girl, she didn't know what to do.

"
Come on, little girl, get up."

Emily didn
't move.

Livy
's face grew hot, and her hands began to shake. "Please, please get up." Her resolve faltered. The barriers that kept the pain locked far away were breaking down.

Tears streamed down the girl
's face and into the blood smeared on her chin and lips. "It hurts. I want my Pa."

Livy
took a half step toward her. Visions of Emma filled her mind, and she glanced at the child whimpering on the floor. She had been unable to help her daughter—unable to make everything better. Her heart beat rapidly.
Oh please, oh please, someone help me
. She grew frantic.
Breathe. In. Out.
Her skin crawled, and her chest constricted. Emma was in her mind, in her heart, in her soul.

The girl stopped crying and stared
up at her. Her long lashes wet with tears as her eyes, blue and honest, stared into Livy's.

I
'm being horrible
.

Battling her inner turmoil, she
rushed over to the basin and wet a cloth. She placed it on the girls lip. "Put this on it for a while to take the swelling down."

Mentally exhausted, s
he lifted the girl from the floor and put her on a chair.

"
I," Emily hiccupped, "want my Pa."

"
Sit here for a few minutes while I go upstairs to get my cook book." Needing to escape, she ran upstairs gasping for breath as another attack seized her lungs.

Take deep, even breaths,
in through the nose, out through the mouth
. She clamped her hands over her eyes to stop the tears that wanted to come. Never again would she hold her daughter in her arms and wipe her tears.

"
Stop it, Livy, just stop it,
" she screamed to the empty room. She scratched her neck to stop her throat from closing. She was angry at the little girl who lived when hers had not. Angry at God for taking her daughter. Angry that she didn't have the strength to wrap her arms around the child and comfort her.

She stopped pacing, lifted her satchel up off the floor and dug fitfully through it until she found her
cook book. Clutching it in her hand, she forced her feet to walk back downstairs.

She
peeked into the kitchen. The child was fast asleep with her head resting on the table. She blew out a breath as she quietly entered the kitchen.

For the fir
st time, she really studied the girl. One chubby little hand held the cloth, while the other rested under her head. Her blonde hair spread across her small back and Livy watched as her lips opened and closed while she slept peacefully.

Her stomach turned at the shame she felt
. She's a little girl Livy.
She has nothing to do with your loss. S
he reached out to touch the girl. Eyes filled with tears, she bit her bottom lip. Her hand hovered above the blonde head when she pulled back. Cheeks wet, she fled the room leaving Emily where she slept.

CHAPTER THREE

The evening meal went reasonably well, considering all she had to do was prepare the vegetables. Elbow deep in soapy water, she washed up the last plate and set it aside to be dried. She grabbed the tea towel and went about the task. She couldn't stop her mind from straying to the girl lying helpless on the floor. She knew she'd been cruel. Instead of comforting the child, she'd fled the room. Her inability to be around the girl was something Livy hadn't expected.

She
was prepared to marry John Taylor. Prepared to be around his children. Or so she thought. Ever since Emma's death, she hadn't allowed herself to be around many children. Not a smart thing to do, she realized that now.

When she decided to take
his proposal and move west, she honestly thought she'd be able to look at his children without resentment. She knew she'd never be able to love another child the way she loved Emma. But she was sure she'd be able to at least like them. The boy, Benjamin didn't bother her. It was the girl—the sweet, innocent little girl—like her Emma.

She
couldn't look at John's daughter without thinking of Emma. Without wondering how this child lived when hers had not. She was at a loss as to how to fix it. And the worst part? She didn't know if she had the strength to try.

When John saw his daughter
's split lip, Livy thought she was done in for sure. He asked her what had happened, but before she could tell another lie, the child told him about how she'd fallen, and how Miss Livy had made it all better. Astonished, she couldn't understand why the girl had not told John how cruel she'd been.

While
he knelt to inspect the wound and kiss it better, he mouthed a 'thank you' to Livy. Shame twisted inside her. Unable to stand the scene any longer, she left to get some air.

She knew she had crossed the line today and was worried
he would see her indifference toward his daughter and ask her to leave. With nowhere to go, she was hopeful things would work out.

Since her fall, the girl hadn
't so much as looked at Livy, out of fear, she was sure. That she was the sort of person a child would fear made her feel ill. Why hadn't the girl told John how she fell, and it was Livy's fault? Guilt ridden, she thought it best if she didn't have too much contact with the girl, for now anyway. She knew she couldn't avoid her all together, or John would start asking questions she wasn't prepared to answer.

"
The kids are fast asleep."

Startled when John came up behind her, she dropped the plate she'd been drying onto the floor, shattering into tiny pieces at their feet. "
Damn,
" she whispered under her breath.

As she
bent to pick up the broken glass, he remained standing and stared down at her. Was he angry at her for swearing? She had no clue what to do.
You should watch your mouth―that's what you should do.
He was still looking at her, and her face heated. "I'm sorry."

"
No, it's not your fault. I scared you." He knelt beside her, and began picking up the jagged glass.

She moved slightly to the left, h
er body all too aware of how close he sat.