A Sparkle In The Cowboy's Eyes. Peggy Moreland
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Merideth took a step toward her, her hands outstretched, reaching for her...then she stopped, curling her hands into fists against her lips. She couldn’t pick her up. She couldn’t touch her. She just couldn’t.
As if Cassie sensed Merideth’s inability to rescue her, she flopped over on her tummy and buried her face in the blanket beneath her, sobbing miserably.
Swallowing hard, Merideth quickly closed the distance between them and stooped to pick her up. Cassie grabbed at Merideth’s hair, tangling the fingers of one hand there, while she fisted her other hand in Merideth’s blouse. Straightening, Merideth held her out in front of her.
Emotion rose in her throat as she met the infant’s gaze. “Shhh,” she whispered, blinded by her own tears. “Please don’t cry.” But Cassie only wailed louder. With her heart threatening to split wide open, Merideth drew a deep breath and slowly drew her to her breasts. The frantic beat of the baby’s heart throbbed against her own.
She closed her eyes, trying to remain unaffected, but the baby’s warmth seeped through her blouse and slowly wound itself around her heart. Merideth couldn’t hold back the tide of grief that rose inside her.
Cupping the back of the baby’s head, she tucked it beneath her chin and pressed her lips to the cap of silky hair there. Inhaling deeply, she filled her senses with scents of baby powder, milk and innocence.
“There, there,” she soothed as she instinctively began to sway. “No need to cry. Merideth’s got you.”
A hiccupy sigh reverberated against Merideth’s chest, then Cassie leaned back and looked up at her. Tears swam in eyes as blue as John Lee’s. She peered up at Merideth innocently, yet with a look of such expectancy and hopefulness, that Merideth felt as if the child had reached in and touched her heart.
Tears blurred her vision as she tried to focus on the baby’s sweet face. How could she have ever been so heartless, she asked herself, so selfish as to run from this precious child?
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she murmured sympathetically as she swiped tears from her own eyes. “Are you wet? Do you need your diaper changed?” In answer, Cassie’s lower lip began to quiver. Merideth tested the diaper. “You are wet,” she confirmed. “And I’ll bet you’re hungry, too.” She glanced around. “Where is Mrs. Baker?” she asked, beginning to frown. “She should be taking care of you.”
“C, you fool. Ask for a C!”
Merideth turned toward the sound and anger slowly rose to warm her cheeks. “The irresponsible twit,” she muttered to the baby. “Watching television and leaving you alone in here and all by yourself.” Furious now, she marched in the direction of the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the den. Slapping a palm against it, she stepped into the kitchen, then stopped, shifting Cassie to her hip while the door rocked on its hinges behind her.
Just as she’d expected, she found Mrs. Baker standing at the kitchen’s center island, her hands white with flour, her eyes glued to a television set on the counter opposite her. Pursing her lips, Merideth marched across the room and with an angry stab of her finger, punched the power button. The screen went black, the room silent.
Mrs. Baker turned from the screen to Merideth, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Meredith, obviously unaware of her presence before that moment. “What do you think you’re doing?” she blustered indignantly.
“Turning off the television.”
Mrs. Baker narrowed her eyes suspiciously, shifting her gaze from Merideth to the baby and back again. “How did you get in here?”
Cassie started to cry again and Merideth bounced her on her hip, trying to quiet her. “I walked right in the front door, the same as any kidnapper or murderer could do.”
Her expression turning sour, the housekeeper gathered her apron in her hands and wiped the flour from them. “And what gives you the right to march into a private home unannounced?”
“I rang the bell twice, but you were so engrossed in Vanna White flipping letters,” she said with a dramatic wave of her hand toward the television set, “that I guess you didn’t hear.”
“An unlocked door gives you no right to just barge in.” She shook a finger at Merideth. “John Lee’ll hear about this, I assure you.”
“No need. I’ll tell him myself. And while I’m at it, I’ll tell him how you were watching television and ignoring the baby’s needs.”
Mrs. Baker’s mouth dropped open. “I was not ignoring the baby!”
“You most certainly were! She was in the den crying her heart out. I could hear the poor thing all the way from the front porch.”
At that moment, the back door swung open, and John Lee stepped into the kitchen. In the midst of dragging off his hat, he froze when he saw Merideth holding the baby.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise as he tossed his hat onto the counter top.
“That’s exactly what I was trying to get out of her.” Mrs. Baker huffed and shot an accusing look at Merideth.
Ignoring her, Merideth turned on John Lee, having to raise her voice to be heard over Cassie’s crying. “This woman is totally irresponsible. When I arrived, Cassie was in the den in her playpen screaming her lungs out while she—” she pointed an accusing finger at Mrs. Baker “—was watching TV in the kitchen. She is incompetent and lazy and I want her fired immediately!”
Seeing the color rise on his housekeeper’s face, John Lee quickly crossed the room and took Merideth by the elbow. “Excuse us for a minute, Mrs. Baker,” he said apologetically, as he propelled Merideth toward the swinging door. “I’ll take care of this.”
Merideth dug in her heels, but John Lee shoved her kicking and fussing ahead of him. Once in the den, he spun her around to face him. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whispered angrily. “Do you realize how hard it is to get good help these days?”
“Good help!” Merideth cried. “Why, that woman—”
John Lee clamped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you say another word,” he threatened. “I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t quit over this.”
Merideth ripped his hand from her mouth. “You’ll be lucky if she does quit!” she returned furiously.
Firming his lips, John Lee caught her by the elbow again and marched her down the hall to the master bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door behind him and fisted his hands on his hips. “Let me tell you something, Miss High-and-Mighty McCloud. I need Mrs. Baker. Without her help with Cassie, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Merideth shifted the baby to her shoulder and frantically patted her back, trying to calm her. “You’d find someone better. Someone conscientious. Someone without a television addiction.”
Shooting Merideth a scathing look, John Lee took the baby from her. Holding Cassie at arm’s length, he jounced her up and down, puckering his mouth sympa-thetically as he looked up at her. “Whatsa matter, darlin’? Is all this yellin’ upsettin’ you?”
Merideth snatched the baby right back from him. “For heaven’s sake! She isn’t some football you can toss around.” She cradled the baby to her chest, tucking the infant’s head beneath her chin and rocking slightly while she glared at John Lee. “And I can tell you what’s wrong with her. She’s wet. She’s dirty. And probably hungry. And that witch in the kitchen totally ignores her.”
John Lee narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you start in again with me,” he warned.
“As if anything I said could penetrate your thick skull.” Turning her back on him, Merideth paced the room, patting and comforting, trying to calm Cassie. A huge beveled mirror covered the wall opposite her from floor to ceiling, offering Merideth her reflection and that of the black velvet comforter and cowhide throw that