Jodi Thomas - Texan's Touch

Wolf spoke to the babies as he answered her. “We’ve got our own problems at home to worry over, and sorrow don’t want company around. Besides, that woman Bergette showed up for the funeral so I reckon she’ll stay here with the babies and take over the womanly duties.” He took a deep breath. “But we both could use a night’s sleep before starting home.”

“Don’t bank on Bergette’s help,” Nichole whispered to Wolf as she heard Wes and Adam stomp onto the porch. The McLains entered, both looking exhausted. Nichole didn’t know what to say. She knew Adam blamed himself for May’s death, and Wes blamed the world, but she wasn’t sure how either would react if she tried to comfort them. Wes only needed time and a few more bottles of whiskey to recover. But Adam was a thinker who thought he needed no one. She’d never been around such a man.

Bergette followed the brothers in when Adam held the door for her. She seemed far more concerned with removing her hat and veil without damaging her hair than with anyone’s grief or with taking over the care of the infants. She paid no notice to Nichole or anyone else as she walked to the washstand and faced the mirror.

The sharp sound of an ax splintering wood pulsed through the air with a pop.

Everyone paused listening as the sound came again, and again.

“It’s Daniel,” Wes answered a question no one had voiced as he poured himself a mug of coffee, then laced it with whiskey. “He’s chopping down the barn door. Might level the entire barn before he’s finished.”

No one said a word to hint that the action wasn’t totally normal. Nichole listened to the chopping, thinking that in some strange way it sounded like a heart beating. Dan hadn’t spoken since May’s death. At least the noise proved he was alive.

Nichole watched as Bergette glared first at Adam, then Wes, with the pouty lip of a child. When neither looked in her direction, she stormed, “Aren’t you going to make him stop?”

Wes didn’t bother to answer her and Adam only mumbled “No” as he looked at the now-sleeping babies.

Bergette seemed to long-sufferingly endure two more blows, then she moved to the doorway in a sudden fit of displeasure. “I must be going,” she announced as though her exit were of some great importance. “I’ll send a cook over to help you tomorrow. And a housekeeper. Lord knows this place could use a good scrubbing.” Her gaze darted around the room from the handmade table and chairs to the clothes hanging on pegs along one wall.

“Don’t bother,” Wes answered. “We can manage.”

Bergette looked to Adam for a kinder reply, but he only held the door open for her.

“I will see you tomorrow, won’t I?” she asked as she moved to the porch in a rustle of silk.

“I don’t know,” Adam answered. “Tell your butler to drive you home slowly. The roads can be tricky this time of night.” He didn’t offer a touch or a kiss and neither did she.

When Adam returned, Nichole didn’t miss the hurt in his stare-a kind of pain that made his brown eyes seem stormy. A suffering like that of an animal who might turn on anyone who tried to help. She thought he looked as though something inside him was dying. Or maybe he’d protected and cherished a memory for years only to find it decayed and molded when he finally drew it out. Bergette’s lavender perfume suddenly smelled stifling like the smell of too many flowers at a wake.

Wolf stood as soon as Bergette was gone and nodded toward Nichole as he reached for his hat. He’d be to town and back in the time it would take Bergette’s buggy to reach home and she wouldn’t see him pass her either way.

Nichole closed her eyes, hoping the news he found would be good. Wolf had sensed trouble. The man who’d taken their land during the war would stop at nothing to keep it. She only hoped Tyler and a few of the others could make peace before Wolf and she returned. But the soft rain against the window seemed to wash away her hopes.

Wes poured himself another cup of coffee and took Wolf’s place across the table from Adam. No one felt any need for conversation. Nichole curled into the chair by the window and listened to the rhythm of Dan’s chopping. Somehow, it was almost a song. A song too sad to have a melody.

Just after dark, the old doctor arrived with a young girl. He’d loaned her his coat, but Nichole noticed her feet were bare and mud covered. The look of her reminded Nichole of the poor folks who lived far back in the Tennessee hills.

Wilson explained quietly, as she looked at the babies, that she’d lost her month-old son three days ago. Apparently she’d never had a husband, and her pa had beat her regularly all during the pregnancy. “She’s simple-minded,” the doctor whispered. “But as sweet natured as they come. Her baby hadn’t been healthy since birth, but she’d taken care of him as well as any mother could. Even walked the four miles to town to bring him to the office several times, knowing her pa would beat her for not finishing her chores.”

Adam knelt by where the woman sat with one of the babies on her lap. She seemed half woman, half child in her homespun dress and faded blue apron. “Hello.” He smiled. “My name’s Adam.”

The girl didn’t look away from the infant. “I’m Willow,” she said. “I had me a baby, but he died.”

“Would you like to live here and help us take care of these two, Willow?”

The girl giggled and raised her head. Adam noticed bruises spotting her round face and swelling the corner of her bottom lip.

“Doc told me you might ask so I brought my roll of clothes.” She looked like she was about to cry. “I’d like to stay, but I’m not much good around the house. I drop things and forget. My pa wallops me but I don’t learn. I heard him tell the doc that if you’re a-willing to feed me, good riddance to my no-good bones.”

“All we want you to do is take care of the babies. If you do that, you’ll earn your keep.” Adam patted her shoulder. “And no one here will ever lay a hand on you as long as you’re with us. I give you my word.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“They got names?”

Adam glanced toward the door and the sound of the chopping. “Dan will get around to naming them in time. We could sure use your help, Willow.”

Willow smiled with pride. “I got milk. Lots of it.”

Without hesitation, she pulled her blouse open and offered one baby her pink-tipped breast.

Wes shot from the room like a cannon, and Adam couldn’t hold his laughter. After a few tries, the baby took to the breast hungrily, making Willow giggle.

“That’s good, Willow,” Adam managed to say before he followed Wes to the parlor. There he broke into a round of chuckles everyone in the kitchen heard.

“Shut up!” Wes snapped. “You sound like a fool.”

“I wish you could have seen your face.” Adam tried to hold down his voice.

“Well, you saw what she did. Pulled that breast out like it was no more than a pitcher, and she was offering drinks.” Wes paced in a circle around the parlor table.

“That’s pretty much it.” Adam laughed. “We did need a wet nurse. And with two to feed every few hours, it might be a blessing she’s not overly shy.”

“Overly shy! I’ve seen cows with more modesty.”

Adam couldn’t argue.

“Well, maybe we should look around for someone else,” Wes continued. “This Willow couldn’t be more than fifteen, and like the doc says, she’s simple.”

“We don’t have time. The infants need to be fed.”

Wes paced faster. “Couldn’t we let some family take care of them? Just till they’re old enough for Daniel to handle.”

“You know as well as I do that most families got more than they can feed now. Besides, I doubt Daniel would let them out of his sight. From the look of her face, Willow needs a home as badly as those babies need a nurse.”