Read Online The Gift of a Child by Laura Abbot - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laura Abbot
Ads: Link
a livestock broker.
Finally Rose succeeded in dragging him away, but not before he’d sneezed several times. Dust from the livery, no doubt. She wanted to go by the nearly completed courthouse, which loomed impressively above the prairie. Just then, though, in the shadow of a basement door overhang, she noticed a couple, oblivious to the world, entwined in an embrace.
Rose stopped in her tracks, aware of a strange tingling in her chest. Once she had known such stolen moments, had felt whiskers caress her face and had melted through and through as warm lips sought hers. What a fool she had been, actually picturing herself swept into the dashing sergeant’s arms and carried off to a future of loving nights, of babies, of actually daring to think of herself as desirable. And maybe he had cared for her. More likely, not. Loneliness can make a man do strange things.
She would never forget her humiliation that day at Fort Larned when she had wandered into the sutler’s just at mail call and seen one of the officers waving a letter and calling out, “Hey, Sarge, lucky you. Here’s a letter from your wife.”
Men. Strange creatures. Not to be trusted. That had been the lesson of that black afternoon. Never again would she put herself in the situation of appearing so foolish, so gullible.
Alf pulled her out of her fog. “I’m gonna go see that lady.”
Still lost in the past, Rose was puzzled. “Go see who?”
“Horse lady.” Alf wrenched away from her grasp and darted across the still barren courthouse lawn. “There!”
Rose scurried after him, but then stopped as the embracing couple broke apart. Horse lady, of course. Sophie. Slowly Rose started forward. Alf flung himself into Sophie’s arms, while Charlie Devane stepped back and swiped a hand through his hair, as if composing himself.
Oh, Seth, Rose thought as she moved quickly toward the trio, no doubt about it. These two are passionately in love.
* * *
Once again Seth had to admit his sister could sweet-talk him into anything. Being thrown from a bronc, though, might be easier than watching Sophie stroll toward the river with Charlie Devane, picnic basket in hand on this Sunday afternoon. It confounded him that his father seemed to take this budding romance in stride.
So, more fool he, he’d once again agreed to wait in town to fetch his sister. Fortunately, Ezra Kellogg, overhearing Sophie’s request at church, had invited him home for Sunday dinner. Given the prospect of spending time with Rose’s cooking and Alf, he hadn’t needed further persuasion.
Even from the Kelloggs’ front porch, he could smell the tantalizing aroma of roast chicken. Ezra greeted him at the door and ushered him into the parlor, where Alf sat on the carpet beside a stack of blocks. “Sett?” The boy let the block in his hand drop to the floor and held out his arms to Seth as he ran toward him. Seth settled in a wooden armchair, cradling the boy against his chest, unfazed by the gray cat who jumped up to join them.
“Alf seems powerful fond of you,” Ezra noted, sinking into the rocker.
“He’s special,” Seth commented, feeling the boy’s small hands gripping his wrists.
“It’s good for him to have a manly influence beyond his tottering old grandpa.”
“I can’t help wondering where he came from. What he’s been through.”
“We may never know,” the older man said. “My prescription for him is love and coddling, and Rose is doing a pretty good job of that.”
Talk then turned to the pastor’s sermon and speculation about Ulysses S. Grant’s presidency. All the while, Seth could hear the clink of china from the kitchen. After a few minutes, Rose, her face flushed, summoned them to the table. As Seth set Alf down in his chair, he wiped the youngster’s runny nose with his bandanna.
The meal lived up to its promise, and there was little conversation until they were all satisfied. When she cleared the table, Rose paused at Alf’s place. “Aren’t
Finally Rose succeeded in dragging him away, but not before he’d sneezed several times. Dust from the livery, no doubt. She wanted to go by the nearly completed courthouse, which loomed impressively above the prairie. Just then, though, in the shadow of a basement door overhang, she noticed a couple, oblivious to the world, entwined in an embrace.
Rose stopped in her tracks, aware of a strange tingling in her chest. Once she had known such stolen moments, had felt whiskers caress her face and had melted through and through as warm lips sought hers. What a fool she had been, actually picturing herself swept into the dashing sergeant’s arms and carried off to a future of loving nights, of babies, of actually daring to think of herself as desirable. And maybe he had cared for her. More likely, not. Loneliness can make a man do strange things.
She would never forget her humiliation that day at Fort Larned when she had wandered into the sutler’s just at mail call and seen one of the officers waving a letter and calling out, “Hey, Sarge, lucky you. Here’s a letter from your wife.”
Men. Strange creatures. Not to be trusted. That had been the lesson of that black afternoon. Never again would she put herself in the situation of appearing so foolish, so gullible.
Alf pulled her out of her fog. “I’m gonna go see that lady.”
Still lost in the past, Rose was puzzled. “Go see who?”
“Horse lady.” Alf wrenched away from her grasp and darted across the still barren courthouse lawn. “There!”
Rose scurried after him, but then stopped as the embracing couple broke apart. Horse lady, of course. Sophie. Slowly Rose started forward. Alf flung himself into Sophie’s arms, while Charlie Devane stepped back and swiped a hand through his hair, as if composing himself.
Oh, Seth, Rose thought as she moved quickly toward the trio, no doubt about it. These two are passionately in love.
* * *
Once again Seth had to admit his sister could sweet-talk him into anything. Being thrown from a bronc, though, might be easier than watching Sophie stroll toward the river with Charlie Devane, picnic basket in hand on this Sunday afternoon. It confounded him that his father seemed to take this budding romance in stride.
So, more fool he, he’d once again agreed to wait in town to fetch his sister. Fortunately, Ezra Kellogg, overhearing Sophie’s request at church, had invited him home for Sunday dinner. Given the prospect of spending time with Rose’s cooking and Alf, he hadn’t needed further persuasion.
Even from the Kelloggs’ front porch, he could smell the tantalizing aroma of roast chicken. Ezra greeted him at the door and ushered him into the parlor, where Alf sat on the carpet beside a stack of blocks. “Sett?” The boy let the block in his hand drop to the floor and held out his arms to Seth as he ran toward him. Seth settled in a wooden armchair, cradling the boy against his chest, unfazed by the gray cat who jumped up to join them.
“Alf seems powerful fond of you,” Ezra noted, sinking into the rocker.
“He’s special,” Seth commented, feeling the boy’s small hands gripping his wrists.
“It’s good for him to have a manly influence beyond his tottering old grandpa.”
“I can’t help wondering where he came from. What he’s been through.”
“We may never know,” the older man said. “My prescription for him is love and coddling, and Rose is doing a pretty good job of that.”
Talk then turned to the pastor’s sermon and speculation about Ulysses S. Grant’s presidency. All the while, Seth could hear the clink of china from the kitchen. After a few minutes, Rose, her face flushed, summoned them to the table. As Seth set Alf down in his chair, he wiped the youngster’s runny nose with his bandanna.
The meal lived up to its promise, and there was little conversation until they were all satisfied. When she cleared the table, Rose paused at Alf’s place. “Aren’t
Similar Books
