Read Online Ten Thousand Charms by Allison Pittman - Free Book Online

here?” Gloria asked.
    “You remember Mr. MacGregan. John William—”
    “I know who he is.”
    “His wife died last night.” Sadie cradled the baby in her arms and lifted the quilted cover from its face. “You remember her from that day at the supply wagon.”
    Of course Gloria remembered. The wife. Respectable, married. Gloria thought back to the look of withering disdain and tried to conjure an appropriate emotion.
    “She had a real hard time of it.” Sadie sat next to Gloria on the bed, the baby on her lap. She peeled away layers of damp swaddling, then bent her head down close and whispered, “Wachen Sie auf, sweetie. Wake up.”
    “What are you doing here?” Gloria asked. “Why is he here?”
    “We need your help,” Sadie said, looking up from the baby for the first time.
    “We offered to help,” Gloria replied. “We offered to help and she said no. Not from us.”
    “Well, she cannot refuse now. This baby needs to nurse, and you're the only one who can do that for her.”
    “Why should I?”
    By now Sadie had the baby completely uncovered and Gloria saw the tiny body A little girl silent and cold. Without thinking, Gloria took a blanket from her sons coverings and held it out in silent offering. Sadie lifted the little girl, and Gloria spread the blanket on Sadie's lap. As Sadie drew the warm corners across the tiny shoulders, Gloria sensed a now familiar tugging at her breast.
    “I'll answer that,” came the gruff voice from beside the stove. Gloria looked at him, but he wasn't looking at her. His face was firmly fixed on the hands clenched in his lap. His lips barely moved. If he hadn't been the only man in the room,
    Gloria wouldn't have been sure he was speaking.
    “First off,” he said, “I'll apologize for my wife's rudeness. She wasn't a happy person. She didn't want to be here.”
    Sadie spoke up. “There's no need for—”
    “And maybe 1 don't have the right to ask. But I'm not askin’ for my wife. I'm not askin’ for myself. It's for my little girl.”
    He looked up, and Gloria saw his face for the first time since that January afternoon nearly five months before. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, raking it from his face. She saw his piercing, pleading eyes, the color lost in the shadows. His nose was large and, she guessed, had been broken at least once. His jaw was strong, as was his chin, which now quivered in betrayal of the strong front he seemed determined to maintain.
    “It seems," he continued, “that God brought you here and brought me here for a reason. He took my wife, but he saved my child.”
    Gloria snorted. “If God can save your child, why do you need me?”
    “Because, sometimes God needs a little help.”
    There was a brief moment of almost complete silence broken only by the sound of Sadie softly patting the baby girl's back.
    Then, in an instant, everything broke free.
    A boisterous cry burst from the bundle at Sadie's shoulder.
    John William leapt from his chair and rushed to Sadie's side.
    “She's alive!” he cried.
    “Well, now,” Sadie said, bringing the baby back to a cradle in her arms and smiling into the scrunched, screaming face. “It wasn't ever a question of her being alive. She is a strong girl. She was just a little sleepy. A little cold. And now,” Sadie looked pointedly at Gloria, “she is a little hungry”
    Gloria felt an unexpected rush of milk. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse and then with the ribbons of her chemise. She looked up at John William, who flushed and turned his back. His shyness made Gloria smile. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a man blush.
    “Give her to me,” she told Sadie.
    Soon, without further question or conversation, the little girl was in Gloria's arms, rooting impatiently as Gloria worked to uncover her breast. The impatient cries continued until Gloria guided the tiny face to the nipple and the hungry mouth latched on as if for life. She looked down at the baby's