Whirlwind Baby. Debra Cowan
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baby. “I mean, it won’t be necessary. He isn’t with me.”
Jake didn’t like the instant relief that jabbed at him. He also didn’t examine it. The baby lurched toward him and he took her reluctantly. Her sobs grew louder as she twisted to look at Miz York. Jake juggled the infant from one shoulder to the other in an attempt to shush her.
“But your husband will be here?” Jake asked.
“I’m…I’m a widow.” She pulled her gaze from Molly, raising her voice to be heard over the child. “That’s why I need the work.”
He wanted to ask how her husband had died and how long she’d been alone, but those things had nothing to do with whether or not she could do this job. “Where you from?”
Her knuckles showed white as she gripped her purse strings tighter. “Up north.”
That could mean anywhere. “Up north?”
“Illinois.”
“And you wouldn’t have a problem living at the ranch?”
She glanced at the child as she pushed the spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “No.”
The baby jabbered something he couldn’t understand, trying to lunge out of his arms. “Whoa, there. You’re a slippery one.”
The woman stepped around the sofa and closed the distance between her and him, moving so quietly, with such still grace that the air didn’t seem to stir. Even her skirts didn’t make a sound against the floor. She held out her arms. “May I try?”
Jake didn’t need any urging. He did little more than lean toward the woman and Molly went willingly, looping her chubby arms around the lady’s neck and burying her face there. That kid hadn’t taken to anyone in his family like that. After a couple of gulping sobs, she drew in a deep shuddering breath then hiccuped. The sudden silence was startling.
“What the— How did you do that?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She hugged the baby close, speaking to her in a low voice and looking…relieved? “What’s her name?”
“Molly.” Jake glanced over his shoulder at Georgia, who nodded. Yes. “Name your price.”
“Wh-What?”
He stepped forward. “You’re hired, Miz York.”
“But…you don’t even know if I can cook.” As the baby grabbed for her spectacles, the woman shifted the little girl to her other hip.
“I guess we don’t. So, can you cook?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re interested in the job? Caring for the kid, the house and cooking in exchange for room and board and a decent wage.” He named an amount he thought was fair.Judging by the flash of surprise in her eyes, so did she.
“That’s very generous.”
“I would ask if you have experience, but it’s plain that you do.”
She looked at him then at his cousin. “Are you just going to take my word that I can cook?”
“Yes,” Jake said, thinking how soft her hair looked. “You don’t strike me as someone who would misrepresent herself. Besides, I’m sure we’ll like your grub.”
Georgia murmured agreement. “And it will be nice to have another woman around.”
Miz York rubbed the baby’s back and he noted that her fingernails were short and ragged. “How many will I be cooking for?”
“Sometimes a couple of the hands might eat here at the house, but usually it’s just Georgia, my uncle Ike, my brother Bram and myself.”
After a moment, she nodded. “All right.”
He realized she hadn’t smiled once since she’d arrived. And, still, she was more pleasant than Miz Halvorson. “We need you to start pretty quick.”
“Now?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, good.” The relief he felt was mixed with an unidentifiable emotion. But the baby liked her and so did Georgia, whose spells of tiredness were getting more frequent. “Did you bring your luggage?” he asked.
“Yes. I don’t have much.”
“I’ll fetch your things and Georgia can show you to your room.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze moved to his cousin.
“We’re glad to have you.” Georgia motioned for her to follow as she crossed the big room toward the dining area.
As Jake moved toward the front door, Emma asked, “Where will the baby sleep? With me?”
He stopped, frowning. “We hadn’t much considered that, but, if it’s okay with you, that would probably be best.”
“Oh, yes.” The tightness in her voice eased for the first time since her arrival. “That would be fine.”
Jake nodded, struck by the solemn look on her face. He watched her follow Georgia past one long side of the heavy dining table and stop in the doorway on the right.
“This is Louisa’s old room,” Georgia said. “You’ll be directly across from the kitchen.”
Miz York glanced over her shoulder, looking past the table and chairs to the room beyond.
“We sleep upstairs,” his cousin said. “You’ll want to take a look in the larder to see what you need.”
“Shall I cook tonight?”
“We’d be obliged.”
She nodded, stepping inside the room.
Jake noticed again how carefully she moved. Almost as if she could make herself become part of her surroundings.
That baby was quiet now and still stuck to the brunette like a cocklebur, her little eyes closing occasionally.
Jake’s gaze traveled slowly over the nurse, from her hair down the delicate line of her spine and gentle flare of her hips.
Impatient with himself, he turned for the door. He didn’t want to notice Emma York. All he wanted was to hire someone to care for the baby and he had.
Emma could barely keep from sinking to the floor in relief. She’d done it. She’d gotten the job.
The slightly plump older woman stepped aside so Emma could go into her new room.
“Take a minute to settle in and let us know if we can get you anything.” Her brown eyes were kind. “When you’re ready, you can have a look at the kitchen.”
“All right.”
“Would you like me to take the baby while you unpack?”
Emma could tell the other woman was tired and that had to affect the strength in her good arm. “That’s all right. We’ll need to start getting used to each other.”
Muted red light filtered into the room as the sun sank lower in the sky. This room had two glass-paned windows, one looking north and the other looking west. A large wardrobe covered the length of the west wall from the window to the corner. A wash stand with a cream pitcher and bowl sat on the opposite wall, a rocking chair between it and the north window. A blue, yellow and white quilt covered the bed that looked almost as fluffy as the one Emma had back home.
Jake Ross appeared in the doorway, holding her valise and small satchel, which he set just inside the door. “Is this all you have?”
She nodded.
“I’ll take care of your horse.”
“Thank you.” If either he or his cousin thought it odd that Emma had ridden rather than driven a buggy, they didn’t let on.
During