her?
Maybe it was time to find out.
Taking Baxter at his word, along with a little medical
knowledge of her own, she waited and watched for the school bus to kick
up a great dust on the road as it brought the children home from school
that afternoon. Moments later, she was va-rooming up the Howletts' road
to visit Baby Emily.
Okay. So it was a lousy excuse. She figured it was the
effort that counted. Reaching out to touch someone wasn't always as
easy as picking up a telephone.
"Hi, Bax! How was school today?" she asked, grinning as
she swung her legs out of the Porsche, delighted to see Baxter leaping
out the back door to greet her.
"Hi! School was okay. Guess what?"
"What?"
"Corianne Smithers lost a tooth today. In her hot dog. At
lunch. She just bit into it and out came her tooth."
"Wow. Those must be some hot dogs."
"They're good. Her tooth was really loose. She let me feel
it once." He seemed rather proud of this, almost macho, as if it were
some sort of kindergarten courting ritual. "Mine are gonna fall out
too."
"Then you'll get big teeth, right?"
"Uh-huh. Like Dad's and Uncle Matt's. And Fletch's. Did you come to see Baby Emily? Are you better?"
"Yes and yes," she said, appreciating his perceptive-ness.
She knew if she used the I-came-to-see-the-cow excuse out loud it would
sound as thin as onion skin. "How is she today?"
"Real cute. Come see," he said, taking her hand and
pulling her toward the barn as he had the night before.
"Whoa there," Matthew hollered from the back door. "Where
are you two going in such a hurry?"
"Dorie's better. She wants to see the calf," Baxter said
without slowing down.
"Hello, Matthew," she called, waving her free hand.
"Stay for supper?"
"Oh, no," she called over her shoulder. "I just came to
see the calf."
Lord. It sounded thinner than onion skin.
"We got plenty. No trouble to set another place."
"No, really…"
"Sittin' down with a pretty woman is a treat in this
house. You'd be doing us a favor."
"In that case, I'd love to," she said with a laugh, as she
was yanked into the barn.
"See. See. She's cute, huh?"
"She sure is."
Dorie was allowed into the stall to pet Emily, then Baby
Emily. The calf had been licked clean and furry, and the hay was sweet
and fresh. Nothing of the night before remained, and when Emily mooed
with concern at having two humans so close to her baby, the sound was
natural and unfettered by pain and fear.
"Here," Baxter said, holding out his index finger. "Stick your finger in her mouth like this, and she'll
think it's a tit and suck on it."
"Do I have to?" she asked, with an involuntary shudder at
hearing the word tit come out of a five-year-old's mouth. But he was a
farm boy. What else was he supposed to call them? She had a lot to
learn.
He laughed. "It doesn't hurt."
Sighing, and unable to keep the grimace from her face, she
held her index finger out and slowly stuck it in Baby Emily's mouth.
The calf wrapped its big pink tongue around it and stepped a little
closer to suckle so hard, there was a popping sound when Dorie pulled
her finger out, half afraid of losing it.
Her hands had done and felt many unusual things, from
minor surgery to reaching inside a thoracic cavity and massaging a
human heart. But Baxter was giggling and having such a wonderful time
with her reaction to the calf's mouth, she decided to play it up a bit.
"Uh, yuck!" she squealed, shaking her hand in the air.
He laughed harder, and she couldn't help but laugh with
him. She took in his curly red hair and freckles, his tiny-toothed grin
and the sparkle in his eyes, and a huge soft spot in her heart opened
up to him. Had she really said she envied Gil his children? She'd
wished for things before, but what she felt was more than a wish or a
hope or envy. It was more like an intense joy emerging from the very
core of her. It didn't matter whose child he was, it was enough that he
was there, that he could laugh like an angel and be a little devil, and
think and
Maybe it was time to find out.
Taking Baxter at his word, along with a little medical
knowledge of her own, she waited and watched for the school bus to kick
up a great dust on the road as it brought the children home from school
that afternoon. Moments later, she was va-rooming up the Howletts' road
to visit Baby Emily.
Okay. So it was a lousy excuse. She figured it was the
effort that counted. Reaching out to touch someone wasn't always as
easy as picking up a telephone.
"Hi, Bax! How was school today?" she asked, grinning as
she swung her legs out of the Porsche, delighted to see Baxter leaping
out the back door to greet her.
"Hi! School was okay. Guess what?"
"What?"
"Corianne Smithers lost a tooth today. In her hot dog. At
lunch. She just bit into it and out came her tooth."
"Wow. Those must be some hot dogs."
"They're good. Her tooth was really loose. She let me feel
it once." He seemed rather proud of this, almost macho, as if it were
some sort of kindergarten courting ritual. "Mine are gonna fall out
too."
"Then you'll get big teeth, right?"
"Uh-huh. Like Dad's and Uncle Matt's. And Fletch's. Did you come to see Baby Emily? Are you better?"
"Yes and yes," she said, appreciating his perceptive-ness.
She knew if she used the I-came-to-see-the-cow excuse out loud it would
sound as thin as onion skin. "How is she today?"
"Real cute. Come see," he said, taking her hand and
pulling her toward the barn as he had the night before.
"Whoa there," Matthew hollered from the back door. "Where
are you two going in such a hurry?"
"Dorie's better. She wants to see the calf," Baxter said
without slowing down.
"Hello, Matthew," she called, waving her free hand.
"Stay for supper?"
"Oh, no," she called over her shoulder. "I just came to
see the calf."
Lord. It sounded thinner than onion skin.
"We got plenty. No trouble to set another place."
"No, really…"
"Sittin' down with a pretty woman is a treat in this
house. You'd be doing us a favor."
"In that case, I'd love to," she said with a laugh, as she
was yanked into the barn.
"See. See. She's cute, huh?"
"She sure is."
Dorie was allowed into the stall to pet Emily, then Baby
Emily. The calf had been licked clean and furry, and the hay was sweet
and fresh. Nothing of the night before remained, and when Emily mooed
with concern at having two humans so close to her baby, the sound was
natural and unfettered by pain and fear.
"Here," Baxter said, holding out his index finger. "Stick your finger in her mouth like this, and she'll
think it's a tit and suck on it."
"Do I have to?" she asked, with an involuntary shudder at
hearing the word tit come out of a five-year-old's mouth. But he was a
farm boy. What else was he supposed to call them? She had a lot to
learn.
He laughed. "It doesn't hurt."
Sighing, and unable to keep the grimace from her face, she
held her index finger out and slowly stuck it in Baby Emily's mouth.
The calf wrapped its big pink tongue around it and stepped a little
closer to suckle so hard, there was a popping sound when Dorie pulled
her finger out, half afraid of losing it.
Her hands had done and felt many unusual things, from
minor surgery to reaching inside a thoracic cavity and massaging a
human heart. But Baxter was giggling and having such a wonderful time
with her reaction to the calf's mouth, she decided to play it up a bit.
"Uh, yuck!" she squealed, shaking her hand in the air.
He laughed harder, and she couldn't help but laugh with
him. She took in his curly red hair and freckles, his tiny-toothed grin
and the sparkle in his eyes, and a huge soft spot in her heart opened
up to him. Had she really said she envied Gil his children? She'd
wished for things before, but what she felt was more than a wish or a
hope or envy. It was more like an intense joy emerging from the very
core of her. It didn't matter whose child he was, it was enough that he
was there, that he could laugh like an angel and be a little devil, and
think and
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