So long as it doesn’t put her or the girls in danger, a little voice insisted. But he couldn’t imagine she would ever do that.
He extricated himself from the girls’ gentle arms and turned to the piece of wood on the sawhorse.
He had no say in any of her choices, whether or not they were risky. And that’s just the way he wanted it.
The rest of the afternoon he managed to keep his thoughts centered on the work before him. Measure, measure again, cut, plane. When he measured, Clara held the end of the tape. She insisted on doing her share of sawing, and he had to admit she did a fine job. And when it came to using the planer, he had to confess he couldn’t do better himself.
He did admirably well at resisting thinking of anything but work.
“I’m hungry, Mama,” Libby said hours into the afternoon.
He glanced up and saw the sun’s rays slanted through the west windows. “Looks like it’s supper time. Shall we go?”
The girls scrambled into their coats in record time. Clara had hers on and waited at the door. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Just a minute.” He went to his saddlebags. “Do you want to borrow one of my books?” He pulled out the one he wasn’t currently reading.
“Really?” She hesitated even though her eyes lit with anticipation. “You’re sure?”
“Very sure. I borrowed it from Eddie at the ranch. He has a whole library of books and allows me to help myself to them. He does the same for everyone.”
“Then yes, I’d very much appreciate borrowing it.”
He handed it to her, and she clutched it to her chest. He grinned. It felt good to have a little share in providing her with pleasure.
They crossed together to the Mortons’ and sat across from each other at the table. He looked around at the others, finding it hard to believe that only three days ago all he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. Now here he was, sharing the meal with two children and three other adults.
What would happen after Clara and the girls left? After he finished at the church? Would he be able to get back to the state of solitude he preferred?
Did he still want to be left alone?
The questions went round and round in his head even as he returned to the church and sat on his bedroll. How had he gotten into this position of having a woman and two sweet little girls in his life? It was the very last thing he wanted.
He opened his book and forced his attention to the words.
When they left, he would surely miss them.
And that was exactly why he didn’t want to be involved in the first place.
* * *
The girls had fallen asleep. Finally. For some reason they wanted to giggle and whisper tonight. Several times she hushed them. Again she’d heard them mention Christmas and something special they anticipated. She didn’t ask what it was because, in the depths of her heart, she feared they’d be disappointed.
Her shoulders sagged. All she wanted for Christmas, and prayed for, was a home where they’d be safe, a job so she could support them all and prove to anyone who cared to challenge her that she could take care of herself and the children. God, you see my need. Please provide. Now she must do as she counseled the girls—trust God to answer.
In His way?
She jerked her head up and stared at the stack of boxes next to the table. What if His way was different than what she wanted?
She shook her head. Trusting could be so hard at times. She needed to pray. The Lord is my shepherd. He leadeth me beside still waters.
The peace and calmness that came with still waters was all she needed. God knew that.
It was time to let the matter rest, so she reached for the book Blue had loaned her.
It was The Virginians by William Makepeace Thackeray.
She ran her fingers along the cover. Lifted the book and inhaled the scent of it. Father had a fine library back home, but Clara had been forbidden to choose any books from it. Young women should not read such books. They’re too stimulating. Too adventuresome. The books Father deemed appropriate for her, apart from the Bible, were boring and dull.
She opened the pages and was soon engrossed in a story of war and adventure.
Some time later, she knew she must put off more reading until the next evening. She put a marker between the pages, turned out the lamp, crawled under her blanket on the bedroll and fell asleep with a contented smile.