Laura Abbot - The Gift of a Child

Rose mustered a wan smile before speaking. “She has rented a house and is bringing her maid.”

“So she’ll be quite near you and Papa.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I have no idea how to talk with her. My experience is so limited.” Then Rose moved to the crux of the matter. “And what if she’s horrified by the idea of my taking in Alf?”

Seeing her sister’s distress, Lily leaned closer and covered Rose’s hand with her own. “I’ll be the first to admit that Aunt Lavinia can appear imposing and judgmental. Yet, in many ways, I think you may find her demeanor a mask concealing a generosity of spirit.”

“I hope you’re right. Perhaps I’m overprotective of Alf?”

“As you certainly should be. As we all are where our children are concerned. Alf is doing well, isn’t he?”

Rose smiled, warming to the topic of her boy and his progress with speech and the clear evidence of his intelligence. “His sores and bruises have healed under Papa’s care and every day he comes out of his shell a bit more.”

“I can see that.” Lily nodded to the corner of the room where Mattie and Alf were acting out some playlet of their own devising.

Just then, Ezra entered the kitchen and moved to the pump to wash his hands. His expression was grim.

“Papa?” Lily said by way of inquiry.

“Your man has pneumonia. If he responds to treatment, he has a chance. I’ve given Caleb instructions. Only time will tell.”

Lily stood up and moved to the larder. “I’ve made some cornbread and have beans to warm up for a meal before you return to town.”

Over lunch, Ezra recalled some memories of Lavinia and underscored Lily’s urging of patience. “We mustn’t for a moment forget,” he said, “that regardless of the situation, the woman is grieving. Both the lifelong relationship, whatever it may have been, and her position in St. Louis society. We cannot know exactly what impulse has led her to Chase County, but we are her only family and we will welcome her.”

On the way back to town, Alf drowsed in Rose’s lap, and Papa seemed miles away, perhaps concerned with a patient or lost in memories of Mama and Lavinia. Rose’s eyes were drooping when she was brought to awareness by the sound of horses approaching. A jolt of fear wound through her as she remembered what Papa had said about the men’s meeting the night before. Beside her, Ezra sat up straight and, shading his eyes, squinted at the road ahead. Finally he sighed in relief. “It’s Sophie and Seth.”

Sure enough, racing toward them were the brother and sister, initially oblivious to the buggy. Then Seth wheeled his horse and held up his hand to halt Sophie. The pair trotted slowly toward the buggy. “Sorry for alarming you,” Seth said, doffing his hat.

Sophie grinned. “Me, too. It’s just as well, though, because Seth was winning our race.” She swatted her hat at her brother.

Rose studied Sophie, confident and comfortable in her unconventional riding skirt and dust-covered boots. Watching the two riders so at ease with one another, Rose had greater appreciation for Seth’s concern about Sophie’s ultimate departure from the ranch.

The cessation of buggy movement roused Alf. “Sett!” He stood up and held out his arms.

“Ready for a horseback ride, Alf?” Seth spurred his horse to the side of the buggy and glanced quizzically at Rose, as if asking for permission. She nodded.

Seth plucked Alf out of the buggy and settled the boy in front of him. “Horse! Horse!” Alf waved delightedly to Ezra and Rose. “Brown, white,” he crowed. He patted Seth’s leg and then stroked the horse’s neck. “Big. Sett big. Horse big.”

Unaccountably, Rose blinked back tears. Her boy looked so happy, and Seth held him as if he were a bundle of gold.

Sophie pulled her mount alongside Seth’s. “Are you ready, Alf? It’s gallop-a-gallop time.” She winked at Rose and trotted ahead of Seth and Alf. When Seth followed, Alf’s delighted giggle filled the growing distance to the buggy.

Grinning, Ezra patted Rose’s leg. “We’d best follow. I doubt Seth and Sophie are planning to go clear into town. Nice of them to give Alf a ride, though.”

“We’ll probably never hear the end of it.”

“Right. ‘Big. Brown. White. Horse.’”

Rose nodded, silently filling in another of Alf’s new words, a word that was becoming increasingly important to her, as well. Sett. She drew herself up short. It was nonsense to dwell on such foolish notions and risk jeopardizing a perfectly good friendship.

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