territory.
Swigging down the last of his lemonade, the sheriff leaned forward. “Since we have identifications of these two, if either shows up nearby, the law will take them in. Of course, time has passed, and it’s possible they’ve vamoosed. Or that they have nothing to do with this case.” The man picked up his hat and stood. “I wish I had more definite news for you, but meanwhile, you are doing a splendid job with that boy.”
Meanwhile? Alf was not a temporary charity project. She got to her feet and ushered Jensen out. “Thank you for coming,” she managed before closing the door and sinking to the floor. In that moment, she had realized how desperately she didn’t want to know Alf’s history or have a parent reappear. He was hers.
As if sensing her distress, Alf left his playthings and settled in her lap. “Don’t cry,” he said, lifting his hand to her face.
Until then, she had been unaware that tears were standing on her cheeks. She sniffled and then gathered him even closer. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”
As if that weren’t enough for one day, later while Rose was taking the clothes off the line, she heard an unfamiliar female voice calling from the front porch. “Miss Kellogg, are you home?”
Sighing, Rose placed the folded trousers in the laundry basket, and stepped to the side fence gate. “We’re in the backyard.”
Hannah Foster, her face flushed, rounded the house and stood before Rose. “I knocked, but there was no answer.”
Embarrassed to be found in her workaday gown by one who undoubtedly dressed her mistress in the finest of silks and satins, Rose folded her arms across her chest. “It’s wash day,” she said by way of explanation.
“In this heat?”
When else? Rose wondered. “We can’t delay. The only relief from the heat is rain, and that won’t do for laundering.”
“Oh. I suppose not.”
Rose figured Hannah would discover that sooner than later, unless, of course, Aunt Lavinia hired a washerwoman. “Would you like to come in?”
Hannah shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I merely came to give you this.” She reached in her pocket and extended a note. “It’s from Mrs. Dupree.” Then she bobbed a hint of a curtsy. “I’ll be leaving now.”
With the envelope in her hand, Rose watched the young woman walk away, and was loath to open the message. Finally she slit the envelope flap and withdrew the creamy notepaper embossed with the initials LD .
I should like to invite you to call upon me Friday at eleven.
If you wish, you may also bring the child.
Your loving Aunt Lavinia
Rose looked down at her shabby dress, contrasting it to what fine ladies undoubtedly wore when making social calls. Not only did Rose feel inferior, she resented being summoned. Friday at eleven . No room for accommodation there. And If you wish, you may also bring the child . The child had a name, for mercy’s sake. Furthermore, how could the woman possibly presume she would leave Alf behind? Even as she raged, she knew she was being uncharitable. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.
She couldn’t wait for Papa to get home. She longed for the reassurance of his embrace and his soft voice soothing away the events of this troubling day.
“Rose?” Alf tugged at her skirt. “I’m hungry.”
That, at least, was something she could address.
* * *
On Thursday, Rose prepared a blackberry cobbler with fresh cream to serve after Lily and Bess Stanton finished discussing midwifery procedures. Ezra had prevailed upon the nurse to assist him in the care of expectant mothers, and Bess had welcomed the opportunity. Now, while the two women bent over the books spread on the kitchen table, Rose sat quietly on the back porch with her darning, minding Alf’s play. Overhearing occasional words like “afterbirth” and “breech presentation,” she was vividly reminded of the time at Fort
Swigging down the last of his lemonade, the sheriff leaned forward. “Since we have identifications of these two, if either shows up nearby, the law will take them in. Of course, time has passed, and it’s possible they’ve vamoosed. Or that they have nothing to do with this case.” The man picked up his hat and stood. “I wish I had more definite news for you, but meanwhile, you are doing a splendid job with that boy.”
Meanwhile? Alf was not a temporary charity project. She got to her feet and ushered Jensen out. “Thank you for coming,” she managed before closing the door and sinking to the floor. In that moment, she had realized how desperately she didn’t want to know Alf’s history or have a parent reappear. He was hers.
As if sensing her distress, Alf left his playthings and settled in her lap. “Don’t cry,” he said, lifting his hand to her face.
Until then, she had been unaware that tears were standing on her cheeks. She sniffled and then gathered him even closer. “I’m crying because I love you so much.”
As if that weren’t enough for one day, later while Rose was taking the clothes off the line, she heard an unfamiliar female voice calling from the front porch. “Miss Kellogg, are you home?”
Sighing, Rose placed the folded trousers in the laundry basket, and stepped to the side fence gate. “We’re in the backyard.”
Hannah Foster, her face flushed, rounded the house and stood before Rose. “I knocked, but there was no answer.”
Embarrassed to be found in her workaday gown by one who undoubtedly dressed her mistress in the finest of silks and satins, Rose folded her arms across her chest. “It’s wash day,” she said by way of explanation.
“In this heat?”
When else? Rose wondered. “We can’t delay. The only relief from the heat is rain, and that won’t do for laundering.”
“Oh. I suppose not.”
Rose figured Hannah would discover that sooner than later, unless, of course, Aunt Lavinia hired a washerwoman. “Would you like to come in?”
Hannah shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I merely came to give you this.” She reached in her pocket and extended a note. “It’s from Mrs. Dupree.” Then she bobbed a hint of a curtsy. “I’ll be leaving now.”
With the envelope in her hand, Rose watched the young woman walk away, and was loath to open the message. Finally she slit the envelope flap and withdrew the creamy notepaper embossed with the initials LD .
I should like to invite you to call upon me Friday at eleven.
If you wish, you may also bring the child.
Your loving Aunt Lavinia
Rose looked down at her shabby dress, contrasting it to what fine ladies undoubtedly wore when making social calls. Not only did Rose feel inferior, she resented being summoned. Friday at eleven . No room for accommodation there. And If you wish, you may also bring the child . The child had a name, for mercy’s sake. Furthermore, how could the woman possibly presume she would leave Alf behind? Even as she raged, she knew she was being uncharitable. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.
She couldn’t wait for Papa to get home. She longed for the reassurance of his embrace and his soft voice soothing away the events of this troubling day.
“Rose?” Alf tugged at her skirt. “I’m hungry.”
That, at least, was something she could address.
* * *
On Thursday, Rose prepared a blackberry cobbler with fresh cream to serve after Lily and Bess Stanton finished discussing midwifery procedures. Ezra had prevailed upon the nurse to assist him in the care of expectant mothers, and Bess had welcomed the opportunity. Now, while the two women bent over the books spread on the kitchen table, Rose sat quietly on the back porch with her darning, minding Alf’s play. Overhearing occasional words like “afterbirth” and “breech presentation,” she was vividly reminded of the time at Fort
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