Chapter 23

23

T he baby awoke Lorinda before dawn. The bed in the dressing room where Franklin slept was empty, the covers haphazardly pulled up over the pillow. She knew he wanted an early start this morning, but not this early. Maybe he'd be home at the regular time tonight.

She carried her cleaned-up baby into the kitchen where Mrs. Oleson sat drinking a cup of coffee. The fragrance of bacon and biscuits permeated the room, adding to her hunger. Her stomach made a very unladylike growl. She hoped Mrs. Oleson wouldn't notice.

Before her breakfast, Lorinda sat down to nurse her son. "You're up early."

"I always get up this early to fix Franklin's breakfast when they're preparing for a cattle drive." She leaned forward and let Michael grasp her finger.

He let go of his mother and sat up straighter. He glanced around the room before his gaze returned to Lorinda's face. He looked puzzled.

Lorinda knew who he was looking for. She was disappointed she wouldn't see Franklin this morning, too.

"You are such a sweet boy," Mrs. Oleson crooned. She eased her finger from his fist and went to the stove. "I'll scramble some eggs really soft. Maybe our little guy would like some."

Lorinda coaxed her son back to his nursing. He was getting to be a real handful, the way he twisted and turned and kicked. Just a little bundle of energy. By the time Mrs. Oleson set a plate with the eggs, crisp bacon, and two buttered biscuits in front of Lorinda, he was finished.

She slipped him into his high chair and held him while their housekeeper tied the tea towel around him.

"I took out some of the eggs to cool for him." Mrs. Oleson brought a saucer to set on the table beside her chair. "I'll feed him while you enjoy your breakfast." She gave him a small bite. He wallowed it around in his mouth, and a bit of slobber leaked out the front. Mrs. Oleson wiped it away.

Lorinda's thoughts returned to Franklin. "Have you ever been on a cattle drive?"

"No, but my dearly departed husband was the bunkhouse cook when he was with us. He often manned the chuck wagon." A faraway smile played across her lips while she stared into the distance.

Michael pounded his fist on the tray table.

Mrs. Oleson fed him some more.

Lorinda poured honey on her biscuit and took a bite, the sweetness reminding her of Franklin's kiss at the wedding. Longing to feel another of those caresses tugged at her senses. She shook her head to get the thought from her mind.

"Have they ever had accidents on any of the drives?" Awaiting the answer, she held her breath.

Mrs. Oleson glanced at her before giving Michael another bit of egg. "A cattle drive can be dangerous. There are always scrapes and bruises, even blisters, but I can't remember anything major."

"That's good." Lorinda turned her attention back to her food.

Michael finished every bit of the egg, then started laughing while Mrs. Oleson cleaned his hands and face. She made a game of it, sneaking the cloth in while he was giggling.

"Since the railroads came to Frisco, the men don't have to drive the cattle very far." Mrs. Oleson spread a baby quilt on the floor on the side of the kitchen away from the stove.

She placed Michael on the blanket and put a few wooden blocks around him. He started reaching for one. As his grasping fingers stretched toward it, he flopped over, but the other arm was caught under his body.

"Look at that. He almost turned all the way over." Mrs. Oleson clapped her hands and laughed. "It won't be long until he can scoot across the floor. Before we know it, he'll be crawling."

Oh, my goodness . Lorinda didn't realize babies did things like that so early. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed with being a mother. What would she have done if nothing had happened to Mike? She didn't know what to do with a baby. Would her son have been neglected because of her inexperience? At least, Mrs. Oleson was helping her learn to be a mother the same way she taught her to cook and knit and sew. Thank you, God, for putting me here in this family.

After Lorinda cleaned up the dishes, she took Michael and put him down for a nap. As she went through all the housecleaning she planned for the day, her mind was in a whirl.

Both she and her son anticipated the time Franklin would come to the house. When he arrived, his presence lit up every room. Michael wouldn't go to sleep at night until after his daddy played with him. She never fell asleep until he was in the dressing room and she could hear his breathing relax into the slower rhythm of sleep.

What would they do the four nights he'd be gone?

Fear grabbed her heart and squeezed it so tight she caught her breath. What if he doesn't come home? Even though nothing had happened the last few years, that didn't guarantee it wouldn't this year.

Mike hadn't thought anything would happen to him...or to her while he was gone. And look what happened. He was killed. Franklin and his men buried him on her property.

The thought of her new husband being carried to the ranch slung across the back of a horse made her stomach roil enough to cause her breakfast to try to come up. She swallowed and tears flooded her eyes. Please God, don't let anything happen to Franklin, too.

Yes, she wanted more from their marriage, but if it was the only way she could have him near, then this sham marriage would have to be enough. She couldn't face losing him altogether.

And neither could her son.

The night before other cattle drives, Franklin had slept under the stars near the herd with the other cowboys. As he rode toward the homestead, the bright moonlight cast a pearly sheen over everything. All he could think about was seeing his son one last time before he left...and his wife, no matter how hard he had to fight himself to keep from sweeping her up in his arms.

Hope I'm not too late to see them both. As he approached the house, light poured from the kitchen windows. At least, someone was up. Was it Mrs. Oleson...or Lorinda? He went through the mudroom and peeked in the kitchen door. "Is Lorinda still up?"

His housekeeper looked up from where she sat at the table. "Yes. I know you said you'd try to get home tonight, but I really didn't think you would."

"I've still got to clean up. I'll be in as soon as I can."

As he walked Major to the barn, he whistled all the way. He would get to see his wife one more time before he left. That put a spring in his step. Now to get all this mess off him...and quickly.

When he returned to the kitchen, Mrs. Oleson held his son, all cleaned up and ready for bed. Franklin crossed the room and watched the baby's eyes light up. Mrs. Oleson released Michael into his arms.

"Are you glad to see Daddy?"

Sweet baby laughter followed his question, and the baby became a kicking, punching machine. The exuberance arrowed straight to his heart. His chest almost burst with all the love captured there.

"Daddy couldn't leave without seeing his boy one more time." He bestowed kisses along the baby's neck, and the laughing increased.

Mrs. Oleson stood near the hall doorway, smiling.

Tiny fists grasped the collar of his shirt. The little guy had quite a grip.

"Where's Lorinda?" He couldn't take his eyes off his son when he asked the housekeeper the question.

"She's getting ready for bed. I told her I'd watch the baby while she did."

That brought all kinds of thoughts to his head, almost taking his mind off his son...but not quite.

"So...do you want to take a ride?" He pulled the baby down toward his waist, then swung him as high as he could reach.

Peals of laughter trilled around the room. The next time he swung him up, he let him go just for a second, easily catching him with both hands. Michael loved it, so he tossed him a little higher...then even higher...and higher still.

"What are you doing to my son?"

The shrill shriek startled Franklin, but he never took his eyes off the baby. Quickly, he grabbed him and held him close to his chest.

He turned toward Lorinda. "What were you trying to do? Scare me into dropping him?"

Her face was red, and she perched her fisted hands on her hips. "You were scaring him! You could have dropped him!"

Michael stopped laughing and his face puckered.

"See, he's about to cry."

He'd made the extra effort to come home, and here his wife was screaming like a banshee at him. He'd never heard a cross word from her before.

"Well, he didn't start crying until you started screaming."

Franklin stared at her, just now noticing she wore some kind of white, nearly transparent robe and gown, decorated with tiny colorful flowers. Good thing she had on both of them. Even with the two layers, he could see a hint of the luscious curves underneath. He'd never seen her in anything like that before, and his desire for her exploded into something he had a hard time controlling. After all, she was his wife. Heat throbbed through his body, making him sweat.

Sobs burst from her. "You...could have...dropped him."

He stalked across the kitchen floor and pulled her into the arm that wasn't holding their son. "Lorinda, I'd never...ever...put you or him in danger. Please believe me."

She shook as if she were out in the cold night air. "I just couldn't have faced losing him."

He leaned his chin on the top of her head. "Neither could I."

They stood like that for an extended moment, holding the wriggling baby between them. After dropping a quick kiss on her forehead, he handed the baby to her. She took Michael and hurried out of the kitchen. Her movements caused the robe and gown to cling close to the front of her body and puff out behind her. Thank goodness, he wasn't on that side of her.

Franklin glanced at Mrs. Oleson, who still sat at the table, holding a mug in her hands. "What was that all about?"

"Sit down, Franklin." She let go of the mug. "Look at it from her perspective."

He turned the chair across from her around and straddled it with his arms crossed along the back. "How so?"

"It's a very long time since she's been in a normal family, and I'm not sure that family was normal. I don't know exactly what all happened to her, but she has a hard time trusting people. I'm sure she has a good reason not to." She leaned toward him. "She's probably never seen a father play with his son the way you just did. It does look dangerous to a woman...even me, and I have total assurance you can catch the baby."

That hit him like a punch to his gut. All the air whooshed out of his lungs. He'd never realized those things about Lorinda. But then she hadn't shared very much about her former life with him. He must not be very discerning. At least, Mrs. Oleson was.

"I was out of line." He rubbed his forehead. An ache throbbed behind his eyes. "And I don't have time to make it up to her."

"Something else could be bothering her."

He must be really dense. "What else?"

Mrs. Oleson gave him her you're-such-a-man look. "Her first husband left for only a short time and never returned. You and Thomas took his body to her. She could be scared that something could happen to you."

"I hadn't thought of that." He got up and went to the water bucket and dipped up a drink.

"Thanks for telling me. I've got to get some shut-eye, or I won't be worth anything on the drive."

He entered the bedroom where his son slept. How quickly he'd fallen asleep. After pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek, he went to the door of his former bedroom. Lorinda lay in the bed, not moving a muscle, and her breathing sounded even. Hopefully, she'd calmed down from their little scare.

Take him a while to forget what happened.