Chapter 22

22

L orinda held Michael close to nurse him. She enjoyed these special times with him, but she knew they were limited. Her son was growing much too fast. He wasn't satisfied to lie in her arms while she fed him. Instead, he was more sitting than lying down, and every few minutes, he stopped, raised his head, and glanced around as if he was going to miss something. She was pretty sure she knew what he didn't want to miss. About this time of day, Franklin usually returned to the house for the evening. She knew she listened for him to open the door.

During the last few weeks, her husband was true to his word, staying close-by and only riding out to check on the ranch hands occasionally. While he was gone, she didn't worry about being safe. Most of the time, she knew exactly where at least two or three of the men hid while guarding them, and she knew the others were close enough to see the road and the house at all times.

With Terrell back in the bunkhouse kitchen, she and Mrs. Oleson only had to cook for themselves and Franklin. Of course, Michael liked the mashed potatoes they ate with most meals. Mrs. Oleson fixed them more often since he was eating some of the table food.

Lorinda had learned to recognize the distinctive clip-clop of Major approaching the house. So had Michael. They both heard Franklin ride up outside. He would soon come through the front door. She could relax now, knowing he was so near, but her heartbeat grew stronger as she thought of her husband...even if he was in name only.

Their son wriggled and pulled away from her. His happy jabbering filled her heart even more with the love she felt for him. He sounded so earnest as if really telling her something important. She wondered what kind of thoughts babies had at this age. She wanted him to grow as he should, but since he would be her only child, she wished she could savor these times a little longer.

"Yes, your daddy will be here soon." She lifted him to her shoulder, and he strained to look toward the door. Her husband was the kind of daddy she wished hers had been. "Let's get you cleaned up before he comes into the house."

She loved every moment she spent with little Michael, and she knew when Franklin came through the door, their son would want his attention. Franklin gladly gave it to him.

After dawdling over washing Michael and dressing him in a clean, long white baby slip, she reached the front hallway just before Franklin entered. Michael's arms churned the air as he strained toward his father. She had to keep her hand on the baby's bottom to stop him from hitting the floor while diving toward Franklin.

Her husband plucked him from her arms and held him close, kissing and blowing on his neck and his tummy while the baby laughed and batted at his head. Lorinda enjoyed watching them. She wondered what kind of father Mike might've been. Since he hadn't been around babies and although he loved her and physically let her know, he wasn't very tender about other things. Perhaps Franklin was a better father than Mike would've ever been.

Her husband smiled at her, and her heart took a flip. "He smells so good. Did you just clean him up?"

"Yes. To get him ready for Daddy coming home." She glanced down at the tips of her shoes that peeked out from under her skirt.

She had called Franklin Daddy in her own mind and often to their son, but she had never uttered the word out loud to her husband. She peeked back up at him, and his gaze locked on her face.

"What did you say?" His voice sounded husky.

"I got him ready for you." Her answer came out tentative.

He clutched the wiggling baby in his arms, but his attention was trained on her. "That's not all you said."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I said you were his daddy."

A slow smile crossed his face until his eyes shone like the evening star. "I like that. I never called my father Daddy, but I want Michael to call me that. It sounds more approachable. And I want to be approachable...for both of you."

His gaze held hers in an almost physical grip, and her breathing became shallow. So far he hadn't made all the decisions as Mike had. She hoped that would continue through their marriage. "Thank you, Franklin."

What else could she say? I want even more from you? Never in a million years would she have the fortitude to utter those words. Things were going great right now. She wanted to keep everything the way it was. On an even keel. To change anything could cause a disaster.

"I cleaned up in the barn, because I knew Michael would be wanting me as soon as I walked through the door." Franklin gazed at his son, then looked up and sniffed. "Smells as if Mrs. Oleson has our supper ready. Good thing I already washed up."

"Well, both of us worked on supper while the baby took a nap." Lorinda's smile felt like a special gift just for him. "I think I've mastered meatloaf. You'll have to tell me if you like it."

He wanted to put an arm around her and hold his complete family close. Wonder what she would do if I did .

She entered the kitchen before him.

Mrs. Oleson looked up from mashing the potatoes. "There you are, Franklin. I hoped you'd get here before the food got cold."

"I didn't want to miss whatever it is I'm smelling. I didn't realize I was so hungry."

With one hand, he raised the table tray attached to the high chair he'd ordered from the Montgomery Ward catalog at the Mercantile in Breckenridge. The copy said the legs were wider spaced so the child couldn't tip it over and the tray would go over the child's head until he had grown much taller. After sitting Michael in the chair and moving the tray so it was in front of him, he grabbed the tea towel Mrs. Oleson held for him and twirled it into a thick rope. He didn't want the baby to slip out under the table, so he anchored him to the back of the high chair with the towel.

Michael laughed and beat his hands against the tray table, kicking his legs at the same time. What a racket! But Franklin enjoyed every minute of the noise. He loved having a happy baby.

Lorinda took a large spoonful of mashed potatoes and put them on a plate to cool. Then she and Mrs. Oleson set the rest of the food on the table. Enticing aromas of the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans made his mouth water.

Before she could sit down, Franklin pulled his chair close to Michael. "Can I feed him tonight?"

She stopped and stared at him a minute, her eyes widened. "If you want to. I'm not sure if he's very hungry."

He grasped the small spoon she handed him, their fingers brushing briefly. He should have been more careful. Every time he touched her, his body reacted. Heat spread up his arm, and he had to look away. He wasn't sure he could live years, even decades, like this. Whooshing out a deep breath, he dipped up a small amount of mashed potatoes and held them toward the baby. Like a little bird getting fed by its parent, Michael's mouth popped open, and Franklin slipped the potatoes inside. He watched the baby suck on the food and roll it around in his mouth until it was gone.

That little mouth popped open again. Franklin gave him another small bite.

When Lorinda fed the baby, she took bites of her own food in between. Franklin could do that. He forked some meatloaf in his mouth before Michael finished his.

He glanced at his wife. "This is very good. I believe you'll have to move on to learning to cook something else. You've mastered meatloaf."

The rosy tint he loved crept into her cheeks, and she glanced down at her own food. "Thank you, Franklin."

Michael banged on his table and opened his mouth. Franklin gave him another bite.

"Aren't you going to say grace tonight?" Lorinda's eyes twinkled as she glanced at him.

"Of course." Heat rushed into his cheeks. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He bowed his head and blessed the food and the hands that prepared it. By the time he uttered those few words, his son was once again pounding his fists on the table tray. How do women keep up with everything so well?

Lorinda was quietly eating, but she looked up at him. He smiled at her and took another bite of the meatloaf.

Why had he waited so long to get married? Having a wife and child to come home to every night was wonderful.

At first, Lorinda wasn't thrilled with Franklin feeding their child. Even Mrs. Oleson hadn't asked to do that. But the men of the house were having so much fun, she pushed down the flicker of jealousy. She glanced out the window and drank in the beauty of the mountains. That always settled her.

As Mrs. Oleson had told her, Franklin had gradually changed since the wedding. He became more talkative about the ranch, and Lorinda enjoyed hearing what was going on.

"So what were you doing today, Franklin?" She slowly turned her cup of tea in its saucer.

"We had to brand all the new calves. It's a dirty, smelly business." He slipped another bite into the baby's waiting mouth. "That's one reason I washed up in the barn. During branding, I always keep extra clothes out there so I won't bring the stink into the house."

She grinned. "I'm sure glad you do." She nodded toward Michael. "This little guy makes more than enough messes that don't smell very good."

Mrs. Oleson and Franklin joined her laughter. Lorinda enjoyed their banter. For too long, things had been uncomfortable in the household. Now they had settled into a pleasant relationship.

While Franklin fed the baby another bite, she took the chance to really study her husband. Since the first time she laid eyes on him, she'd realized just how handsome he was. It used to make her uncomfortable. Now it bothered her in a whole different way, making her wish once again that she'd never agreed to their marriage deception.

A curly lock of hair fell across his forehead, drawing her attention. She clenched her hands together to keep from reaching across the table and brushing it back.

He grabbed another bite of his own dinner and chewed vigorously while watching Michael.

"Franklin, why don't you let me feed Michael, so you and Lorinda can visit while you eat?" Mrs. Oleson reached for the small spoon.

Lorinda didn't mind the housekeeper's interruption. Now maybe she could keep her husband's attention and learn more about what was happening on the ranch. Of course, she didn't want to raise the subject on everyone's mind. When would their mountain valley be safe from cattle thieves, murderers, and arsonists?

Franklin did turn toward her and smile, his dark eyes sparkling like the water in one of the springs scattered across the ranch. "I've contacted the buyer from the Swift Packing Plant in Chicago, and he'll arrive in Frisco on Monday. That's the same day the extra cattle cars will get here. So we'll spend tomorrow making sure all three hundred fifty head of cattle we're shipping are healthy."

Lorinda loved hearing about the ranch and what it took to keep it running. She hoped someday she would be able to work right along beside him as other wives in the valley did with their husbands.

Mrs. Oleson glanced toward him while the baby ate the last bite of potatoes. "When will the cattle drive start?"

Franklin laid his fork on the edge of his plate. "I don't want to push them too hard. Instead of heading toward the Breckenridge side of the mountains, we're going to herd them toward Ten-Mile Creek. We'll move them slow, letting them feed along the way. We'll bed down beside the creek, so they'll have plenty of water. When we get to the railcars, they won't have lost any weight."

Lorinda realized her husband really hadn't answered the housekeeper's question. "How long does it take to get there?"

"We'll take over four days." He picked up his fork and started eating again.

"Okay, today's Tuesday." She counted on her fingers in her lap. "Tomorrow, you get them ready...so you'll leave on Thursday?"

"Very early Thursday morning."

She had gotten used to seeing him every day. And she didn't go to sleep until he was settled in his bed. She wasn't looking forward to him being gone that long. But what if he had to travel to Chicago with the cattle? It could be so much longer.

"What happens when you get to Frisco?" Her tone was flirting with whining, and she didn't want to do that.

Since Michael had finished all his potatoes, he started fussing. Mrs. Oleson picked him up. "If you don't mind, I'll just go change his diaper and clean him up."

Lorinda glanced at her. "Thank you."

Franklin enjoyed more of his supper during this interlude.

"The cowboys who help drive them will load the herd in the cattle cars, while I conduct my business with the buyer. Since I've sold to them for several years, I won't have to accompany the cattle to Chicago. A few of the cowhands will go to keep them fed and watered. The Swift buyer and I will conclude our business before the train leaves Frisco."

He reached across the table and clasped her hand, the warmth enveloping her and shooting a tingle up her arm. "I'm sorry I'll miss going to church with you, but I'll get home as soon as I can, either very late Monday or early Tuesday."

Relief rushed through Lorinda while a sigh slipped from between her lips. Franklin gave her hand a slight squeeze before he went back to eating. At least, he wouldn't be gone as long as she had feared.