Linda Ford - The Cowboy's Baby Bond

They sat in the shade for another hour, joined by Big Sam and Levi. The Hardings talked together. Willow would have been content to sit and listen, but Maisie continually attempted to draw her into the conversation, so she politely responded. She learned more about the family, first and foremost that they had strong opinions and all appeared to have a firm belief that God loved and cared for them.

She wished she could believe it so easily. Ma and Pa would be disappointed if they knew of her doubts.

Big Sam rose first. “Time for bed.” He held out a hand to draw Maisie to her feet, and the pair shared a look of affection before Maisie turned back to her.

“Let me show you to your room.”

Willow scrambled up, folded the quilt and reached for Adam, who drowsed in Johnny’s lap. She meant to lift the baby and hurry away, but she couldn’t be so rude as to not thank him and bid him good-night.

She met his dark, bottomless eyes, saw guardedness so familiar she might have been reading her own mind. For a moment, she wondered at the cause of it in him, then she took Adam. “Thank you and good night.” She hurried after Maisie.

Odd that she should feel a bond to Johnny because of something she imagined she saw. Or perhaps it was only because he’d been so gentle with Adam. She surely appreciated that. Or maybe she let her little son’s approval of the man carry some weight. She must be careful. Johnny appeared to be a kind man, but who knew what existed behind that exterior? She, for one, was not about to attempt to find out. Not that it was a possibility. She’d have her hands full taking care of Adam, providing a home for her sisters and somehow earning a living to support them all. She had a poke of gold that she had started saving as soon as they arrived in Wolf Hollow, taking bits Bertie neglected to pick up, or finding it in his pockets when she did the laundry. She didn’t consider it stealing so much as getting her rightful share. For all Bertie cared about her welfare and Adam’s, they would have starved to death without her careful hoarding.

“Come this way.” Maisie led her through the kitchen into a sitting room with large comfortable furnishings and shelves full of books.

Willow eyed the volumes. She loved reading, but ignored the call of her heart to explore every one of those books, and followed Maisie into a room with a wide bed covered in a prettily patterned quilt so clean and bright it made her blink. A chest of drawers stood on one side of the room, and by the bed, a little table with a chair beside it. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that a Bible lay beside the lamp.

“This used to be Tanner’s room, but now that he’s married we use it for guests. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“It’s very nice. Thank you.”

As Maisie closed the door behind her, Willow began preparing Adam for bed. He had drowsed in Johnny’s arms, but as soon as she tried to settle him, he fussed and rolled his head back and forth. After much rocking and humming, he finally calmed, and she lay down beside him, fully clothed.

Some time later Adam’s crying jerked her instantly awake. She touched him. “You’re fevered again.” He should be sponged, but would it be considered rude for her to go the kitchen when the household was asleep? She didn’t have a choice and tiptoed from the room with him in her arms. Moonlight shone through the windows and she filled a basin with water and found a washcloth without lighting a lamp. Where had Maisie put the drops? The shelves were too dark for Willow to locate them. She’d have to settle for sponging the baby, and she set to work, murmuring comfort as she did so.

At least Adam’s cries were now little more than whimpers—a fact that made her nerves twitch. “It’s only an earache. Children have earaches all the time and it’s not dangerous. Nothing bad is going to happen,” she murmured over and over, hoping her tone comforted Adam and wishing the words would comfort her.

“Can I do anything to help?”

Again she hadn’t heard Johnny approach. She looked up to see him enter the kitchen. “You caught me talking to myself.” Thankfully, it was too dark for him to see her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I thought you were talking to Adam.”

“I was.”

“His fever has returned?”

“Yes. I thought he was on the mend.”

Johnny pulled out a chair, but didn’t sit. “Do you want me to light a lamp?”

“He might settle faster if you don’t.”

“Of course.” He sat down. “Poor little guy.”

She heard the sympathy in Johnny’s voice, and before she could stop it, Willow’s heart opened a fraction. Not once had Bertie gotten up in the night with Adam. Not once had he done anything but complain when the baby cried. Nor had he let her forget the baby wasn’t his and never would be.

Willow’s jaw tightened. Poor Adam would never know a father’s love and she had no one to blame but herself. She meant to make up for that lack as best she could by being the best mother possible. Seeing him fuss, she wondered if she had failed at that.

After a bit Adam’s fever relented. He reached for Johnny, who took him and cradled him on his lap.

“He’s never gone to a man before.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

“You mean apart from his father.” Johnny’s deep voice seemed to soothe away Adam’s fears.

“Not even his father.” Again, she unintentionally spoke her thoughts aloud. Blame it on the silvery moonlight.

“Really? But Adam is so...”

When he didn’t finish the thought, she pressed, “He’s so what?”

With a soft chuckle, Johnny said, “Cuddly.”

“He is indeed.” She managed to corral the rest of her thoughts—the many regrets and her guilt. Making a home for them would hopefully make up for some of them. “He’s content now. I’ll take him back to bed.”

Johnny got to his feet. “I’ll carry him to the door,” he said, when she reached for Adam.

They crossed the room together and paused before the bedroom Willow and Adam had been assigned.

Adam fussed a little as Johnny shifted him to Willow’s arms. She slipped into the room and closed the door softly. Adam whimpered, so she rocked him until finally, with a deep sigh, he slept, his arms thrown over his head.

Morning came and, with its brightening rays, a yearning for more sleep. But there was no time. Willow had to set out.

She touched Adam’s brow. He wasn’t hot. His fever hadn’t returned during the night. She could leave with a clear conscience.

On the tail of that thought came one vastly different.

Could she make a warm, welcoming home like the Hardings’?

Chapter Three

Johnny took his chair at the breakfast table. The place set for Willow remained vacant. “The baby was fussy in the night. They might both still be sleeping.”

“I’m here.” Willow stood in the doorway, her dark brown hair again brushed back into a coil about her head.

He liked it better loose about her shoulders as it had been last night. But of course, she hadn’t expected to see him then or she would probably have done it up proper. He shook his head. What made him think such a thing?

Little Adam looked at the room full of people and ducked his head against his mama’s neck.

“How is he this morning?” Johnny asked, not waiting for Maisie to do so.

“He seems better.”

Upon hearing his voice, Adam lifted his head, found Johnny among the others at the table and held out his arms.

Johnny had convinced himself that the baby reached for him yesterday only because of his fever. To have those chubby little arms aimed at him again this morning stalled his heart right in the middle of a beat. He would never let anyone know, but it made him feel special that Adam chose him.