Family of Her Dreams. Keli Gwyn

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Family of Her Dreams - Keli  Gwyn


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called by my Christian name. I’d prefer that.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use your first name?”

      “I was thinking of the children. Tess would be easier for them to say.” And she wouldn’t have to answer to Mr. Grimsby’s last name on a daily basis. Every time she heard it she was reminded of the dictatorial orphanage director who’d given it to her when she’d shown up on his doorstep too young and too traumatized to recall hers.

      “You make a valid point, so I’ll allow it, provided you’ll call me Spencer.”

      She hadn’t expected him to agree so readily, but she was glad he had. Spencer was a fine name, and she would enjoy using it. “Really?” She adopted a playful tone. “I thought a man like you who’s used to being in charge might prefer master or your eminence.” She fought to keep a straight face but lost the battle and laughed.

      His eyebrows shot all the way to the ceiling. Perhaps she’d gone too far. He was a grieving widower, after all.

      “You certainly have some spice to you, Tess. I do believe you and Luke will get on just fine.” He cast a glance to the west. “It’ll be late before you get to town. I can’t leave the children alone to drive you. Will you be all right walking by yourself?”

      “Yes, sir. I mean Spencer.” While she appreciated his concern, she wouldn’t be alone. The Lord was always with her. She would spend the time in prayer. After all, she had much to thank Him for. She’d told Him the desire of her heart, and it seemed He’d heard her. She had a family to care for and looked forward to delightful days ahead as she made a difference in their lives.

      Spencer bid her farewell and headed inside, slowly shaking his head and sporting an amused smile.

      Was the taciturn gentleman actually laughing? Lord, let it be so. He could use some levity in his life.

      * * *

      Tess hung the hoe on its pegs in the garden shed and rubbed her lower back. Running a household was harder than she’d thought. Even though she’d been working for Spencer two weeks, she had yet to grow accustomed to the constant juggling required.

      The amount of work itself was a challenge, but the isolation made her want to scream. Some adult company would be nice. She saw Spencer at breakfast and again at supper, but their interactions were focused on household matters and the children, which was as it should be. She was his housekeeper, not his friend.

      At least she’d get to see Polly while she was in town today. In the meantime she would have to keep Luke from soiling his clothing before she could get the team hitched to the wagon. That boy attracted dirt like a garden attracted critters. The latter problem had been solved by a chicken wire fence. The former seemed a hopeless cause.

      She’d had to do some talking before Mr. Abbott agreed to have the fence built. For some reason, he seemed concerned about her working in the garden. She’d had to assure him three times that she would be careful and never leave tools laying on the ground where someone could get hurt. As though she would.

      Tess lifted Lila out of the tub she’d set at the side of the garden and headed to the house. Spencer’s dog trotted across the yard. The poor creature was bare in spots, but the salve had done its job, arresting the mange. Once his coffee-colored fur grew back, he’d be a fine-looking fellow. He’d proven to be a good watchdog, alerting her when anything was amiss.

      “I’m going to leave Luke in your care.” She patted the dog’s head. “You’ll let me know if he starts to wander off again, won’t you?” She went inside to get ready for the shopping trip.

      An hour later Tess sat on the porch of Polly’s small house in downtown Shingle Springs, a glass of lemonade in her hand. Luke darted around the yard in search of insects. Polly’s two-year-old daughter, Abby, did her best to keep up. Lila slept on a blanket near Tess.

      Polly rubbed her rounded belly. “I’ve never seen you looking more content. Being a housekeeper agrees with you.”

      Tess chuckled. “If you’d been privy to my thoughts earlier, you’d disagree. I’ve gained a whole new respect for mothers with no hired help. How do you fit everything into your days?”

      “Caring for a house while keeping two little ones out of trouble is much different than supervising the cultured children of Sacramento City’s elite as we did before, but it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

      What she wanted was a family of her own—impossible dream though it might be—not to step into one in the throes of grief, with a woebegone widower and a headstrong four-year-old. But that’s exactly what she’d done. Meeting their needs was proving more difficult than she’d anticipated. Despite her desire to help them heal, she’d made little progress. “I have the situation under control.”

      “So I hear. Peter told me he caught Spencer smiling yesterday. When he asked him why, Spencer said he was looking forward to seeing what you’d fixed for supper. Apparently he’s a man who appreciates good food.”

      “He does tuck in hearty portions of whatever I put in front of him. The only thing I’ve found that he doesn’t care for is cottage cheese. I asked him to let me know if there’s anything else he doesn’t like, but he just said ‘everything’s fine.’”

      Polly shifted in the rocking chair, causing it to creak. “He’s not one for making long speeches, is he?”

      Tess laughed. “When I give Spencer a review of the day, I usually get one or two words in reply. If I manage to get five sentences out of him in an evening, I feel like I’ve achieved quite a feat. I can understand his brooding silence, but he seldom interacts with the children, except when he tucks them in at night. That’s so sad. I know fathers have to deal with the demands of their jobs, but their children crave a connection with them.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice.

      Polly patted her arm. “Oh, Tessie, I’m sorry. Whenever I think of your father leaving you at the orphanage, my blood boils. I’ll never understand how a parent could walk away from a child like that, especially one as bright and beautiful as you. What was he thinking?”

      “A man can’t raise a child alone.” How many times had she told herself that? But her father hadn’t even attempted it, giving her up the very day her mother had gone to be with the Lord. She’d never heard from him again.

      “I know, but he could have found you a home with a family who would love you. Or gotten help like Spencer has.”

      Her father didn’t want her. No man did. Not that she could blame them. Even if she wasn’t taller than most of them, she lacked the beauty or charm that attracted men. It seemed her height was the only thing people noticed. Granted, she had six to ten inches on most women, but she wasn’t a circus sideshow freak, although there were days she felt like one.

      A sharp cry rang out. Luke had pinned his playmate’s arm behind her.

      “Abby!” Polly struggled to stand, but her bulging middle made the task difficult.

      Tess leaped to her feet, her long strides carrying her across the yard in no time. “Let go of her this minute, Luke.”

      “It’s my ladybug. I saw it first.”

      She pried his hands from Abby’s arm, spun him around and dropped to one knee in front of him. “That may be, but you can’t hold her like that. You could hurt her.”

      “I didn’t.”

      That was true. Abby had flitted away unharmed and was back on the hunt. “You’re right, but you could have. Since you’re older than she is, you can make good choices—like your papa does.”

      “What kind of choices does he make?”

      “Well, he chose where to live. Where to work. Who to have look after you.”

      Luke’s eyes filled with tears, and he swiped a dirty sleeve across them. “I don’t want


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