A Daddy For Christmas. Linda Ford
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“Me? I never wanted to argue in the first place. Why don’t you just come along quietly and enjoy the nice meal Bonnie has made?”
“Mama,” Libby began.
“Hush.” Clara held up a hand to silence her little daughter.
Blue’s smile came more easily when he saw Libby tip her head and glance at the ceiling as if seeking patience from someone up there.
“Very well. But after tonight, I must find a way of taking care of us without...without accepting charity.”
“You mean without accepting help.” He thought to say more about the trouble this stubborn pride would cause her, but she hustled the girls into their coats, grabbed her own and gave him a challenging look. “Well?”
“Well, what?” What was wrong with the woman?
“Are you going to stand there blocking the door?”
“Course not.” He stepped aside, feeling as if he’d lost the ability to think rationally. He ground his molars together. The sooner he got this troublesome woman out of his hair, the better.
He followed her across the yard and into the Mortons’ kitchen, then stopped dead as he realized he’d just insisted they sit at the same table as he. He grunted, bringing Eleanor’s attention to him.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Blue? Somethin’ hurting you?”
“No. I’m fine.” He could hardly tell this innocent beauty that what was hurting was his way of life. He was a loner, and she and her sister and mother were tromping all over his plans to remain that way.
He had left the ranch to work at the church so he could be alone and shut his mind to everything but the task at hand. Summer was easier as he always asked Eddie to send him to the farthest line cabin and he spent weeks alone with the cows and wildlife. Winter was harder as he had to be at the ranch, where most of the men were hunkered down for the winter. Too many talkative cowboys. Too many cowboys with wives who liked to talk.
“I’m delighted you chose to join us.” Bonnie took Clara and the girls’ coats, then led Clara to the table. “It really bothered me to think of you cramped up in the crude little shack with nothing to eat.” She chuckled. “Though that’s where Claude and I spent the first few weeks we were here.” She indicated the girls should sit on either side of their mother, then turned to Blue. “Join us.”
He shed his coat and stared at the place Bonnie indicated. Right across from Clara. He shrugged. So what? In an hour or less, he’d return to the church and finally find the solitude he had come in search of.
Claude joined them and said a quick grace. Bonnie passed around a platter of roast pork, a bowl of mashed potatoes, cooked carrots and thick slices of fresh bread.
“Oh, Mama.” Libby stared at her plateful of food. “This is like eating at Grandfather’s.”
“Better,” Eleanor added. “We’re allowed to sit with the grown-ups.”
“Girls, mind your manners.” Clara spoke quietly, and Blue thought she seemed tense.
Libby nodded. “I know we’re not supposed to tell people our business, but that was okay, wasn’t it?”
Clara smiled. It seemed a bit forced to Blue. “Just eat your meal.” She turned to Bonnie. “This is very good, and we’re most grateful.”
Bonnie looked pleased. “I love cooking, but there haven’t been many travelers through here of late. So nice to have you folks with us.” She paused thoughtfully. “Where are you planning to go? Is someone coming for you?”
Clara shot the girls warning looks before she answered. “We’re waiting for someone.”
Bonnie’s eyebrows went up with obvious curiosity, and Clara quickly added, “I’m afraid I can’t say anything more.”
A startled silence filled the room.
Claude cleared his throat. “Glad you’re going to make those pews, Blue.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He couldn’t wait to get back to the church.
They ate in strained silence for a few minutes.
Bonnie tried again. “Do you girls have enough to occupy yourself over there?”
“Mama’s reading to us from the Bible,” Libby said, edging forward on her seat as if eager to talk about what Clara read. “It’s the story of the Israelites. They’re running from—” She turned to Eleanor. “Who are they running from?”
“From Egypt.” Eleanor watched her sister as if amused at her intensity.
Libby nodded. “Just like we’re—”
Clara’s hand came down on Libby’s shoulder, making her swallow the rest of what she meant to say.
Blue studied the child. Libby merely sucked in a deep breath and started talking again. “I like your house,” she said to Bonnie. “It’s nice. I like the one you lent us, too. It’s—” Again she consulted her sister. “What is it, El’nor?”
“Cozy and warm.”
“Yes, warm. Mama, where are we going to sleep?”
“I explained that already. There’s plenty of room on the floor for our bedrolls.” She turned to Bonnie and then Claude. “I’m so grateful for your generosity. Is there something I can do to repay you? Help with meals, do laundry...?” Her voice trailed off as a glance around the room proved Bonnie didn’t need any help.
Bonnie touched the back of Clara’s hand. “If we were busier, I would gladly accept your help. But as you see, we aren’t busy. No, you accept the use of that little shack as long as you need it. You’ll be doing us a favor.”
Clara’s eyebrows rose in frank disbelief.
“Yes. You see, when we first came to these parts, I was so sick I couldn’t go on.”
“I was very worried about her,” Claude said.
Bonnie smiled gently at her husband. “Cassie—she’s Mrs. Jones now—had just built this house after spending many weeks in that shack you’re in. With four children if you can imagine it. Of course, it was summer and the children could run and play outside.” She smiled around the table. “She let us use that shack until I was strong enough to continue. So you see, you are allowing us to show our gratitude by extending the same courtesy to someone else.” Bonnie beamed as if the idea pleased her.
Blue saw by the set of Clara’s mouth that she was somewhat less pleased.
When the meal ended, Clara began to gather up dishes. “Let us do the washing up at least.”
Bonnie hesitated. “Very well, if it will make you feel better. I’ll go ahead and set the bread dough.”
Clara hustled about, carrying dishes to the pan of hot water that Bonnie had prepared. She handed drying towels to the girls, and they carefully wiped every dish as she washed it.
Blue wanted nothing more than to hustle back to the church and settle down in his own little world, but first he’d make sure Clara and the girls were safely back at the shack and the fire was banked for the night.
Clara hung the towels and dumped the dishwater in the bucket.
“Thank you again.” She looked at her hands, then toward Bonnie.
“Is there something you need?” Bonnie asked. “If so, just ask.”
“Could I borrow a pot to boil water in so I can wash the girls?”
“Why, of course.” Bonnie drew one from the bottom cupboard. “I apologize for not thinking of it myself. You’ll need a bucket, too.” She handed one to Clara.
Clara slowly