Cheryl Reavis (26 page)

Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, have you taken leave of your senses? Staring shamelessly at a man? What would your father say?
She scolded herself in her mother’s voice and words. Her mother had died seven years ago, yet Rebecca still heard her and listened to her. But that was not to say that she always followed what she knew would be her mother’s advice. If she heeded her mother, she would demurely approach the man and speak quietly and gently. Perhaps ask if he needed assistance. Instead, she lifted the hem of her navy blue skirt and stepped quickly and confidently across the rutted ground. She circled the corner and approached the man. Heidi followed on her heels, trying to be invisible behind Rebecca’s skirts.

“Am I ever glad to see you,” the rancher said at their approach.

She jerked to a halt. Confusion clouded her thoughts. What on earth did he mean? And what did he have in his arms? Something alive, if the movement inside the quilt indicated anything. The cry she’d noted before came from that bundle. The squalling intensified.

“What
is
that?”

His crooked grin seemed both amused and desperate, which didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t imagine this big, bold man uncertain or desperate about anything.

“It’s a baby.” His voice carried a definite note of tension. “A crying baby. I tried to give it a bottle but nearly choked it to death.”

“I see.” She didn’t. Why did he have a baby?

“Perhaps you can help.”

“Me?” Her voice squeaked and she swallowed hard, forced calmness to her words. “What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

She closed the remaining distance and looked at the small, scrunched-up face. Two little fists quivered beside the red cheeks. “It’s very tiny.”

“I figure it can’t be very old.”

“Is it a boy or girl?”

He shook his head as he continued to jiggle the infant. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

He chuckled. “Maybe because I haven’t seen anything more than the bit that’s not wrapped up.”

“You mean to say—”

“I found it here in that basket. Can’t you make it stop crying?”

He expected her to know what to do? Of course he would. After all, as an agent for the Orphan Salvation Society, she was deemed an expert on children. Only one problem. Until her father had signed her up for this trip, she’d had very little to do with children except in the company of their mothers or older sisters. Never had she even seen a baby so tiny.

Still she told herself,
I can do this.

She
would
do this. She’d prove to her father and everyone else—herself included—that she wasn’t simply a fancy lady from New York. She was capable.

He held the crying infant out to her.

Her heart thumped so hard she thought he might hear it. She sucked in a steadying breath. Hoping her arms wouldn’t shake noticeably, she took the baby. It was incredibly tiny. Somewhere deep in her being, a protective ache made itself known and she cradled the bundle close.

Heidi stood on tiptoe to peek around Rebecca’s shoulder. She pulled aside a corner of the quilt to look at the baby. “Oh, sweet,” she whispered. Then, as she realized Colton could see her, she ducked back out of sight.

Colton heaved a sigh that Rebecca took for relief. Obviously, he thought she could take care of the little one.

“Very well.” She could do this. “What does it need?”

He shrugged, though it seemed more like a gesture of uncertainty than lack of concern. “Beats me. But I suppose it’s hungry.”

“Then hand me the bottle, please.” She indicated the nursing bottle he held in one hand.

He did so. His fingers were long and firm-looking. A workingman’s hands. Hands that would grip life with an unrelenting grasp.

She pulled her thoughts back to reality and the heart-wrenching wails of the infant in her arms. She rocked. “Shh. Shh.” But the cries did not abate. What was wrong? What should she do? Steeling her face to reveal none of her fears, she shook the bottle then tipped the nipple into the open mouth.

The baby choked.

She jerked the bottle away.
Oh, dear God, please don’t let this little one die.
At that moment she wished some of her deportment lessons had been forgone for instruction in child care. But, of course, she was expected to follow her mother’s example and let her future children be raised by wet nurses and nannies. Rebecca recalled her nanny from when she was about five. When Miss Betsy left, she remembered crying for days until her mother had forbidden any more tears. Then she’d cried in private, often disappearing into a closet and shutting the door, hiding in the darkness.

Her arms tightened around the baby. No child deserved to know such loneliness and isolation, if it could be avoided. A child belonged in a home where he or she would be loved and valued.

Heidi tapped Rebecca’s shoulder and whispered so softly Rebecca strained to catch her words. “Maybe the baby needs a dry diaper.”

Rebecca stared at Heidi. How did this child know more about infants than she, a grown woman, did? She stilled a sigh. Because Heidi had been taught from an early age to be practical rather than ornamental.

The girl smiled. “Maybe there’s one there.” She indicated the basket, but didn’t move.

Rebecca understood that Heidi didn’t want Colton to see her. The poor girl was terribly self-conscious about the burn scars on her face and arms, especially after they’d kept her from gaining approval from any of the families looking to take in one of the Orphan Salvation Society children. But their time together had left Rebecca feeling very close to Heidi and very protective of the sweet, quiet girl. If she couldn’t find a home for Heidi, the child would live in the orphanage and Rebecca would have to return to New York once she was done here. If her father would allow it, she would take Heidi back to New York and keep her so she wouldn’t have to go to the orphanage. But even if Father did approve, the Society would insist the child be placed in a two-parent family. And anyway, her father would absolutely refuse. Rebecca prayed daily for a loving home for the child and did her best to ignore the ache in her heart at knowing she must say goodbye to Heidi.

She edged toward the basket to consider the contents, letting Heidi follow in her shadow.

Thankfully, Heidi reached around her and searched through the items. “I found one.” Her voice remained low, not wanting Colton to hear her. “And here’s a note.” She handed the piece of paper to Rebecca.

Her heart quivering, Rebecca unfolded the page.

I’m so glad there’s going to be an orphanage where my little boy can be safe. Please take good care of my darling. His name is Gabriel.

She pulled the baby close to her heart. The orphanage wasn’t ready, but she’d take care of this child until it was. But now she had Heidi and the baby in her care. And an orphanage with stalled construction. The baby cried and she jiggled it in a vain attempt to soothe it.

It was a lot to manage. She drew in her chin. But she would do it.

ISBN: 9781460316115

Copyright © 2013 by Cheryl Reavis

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