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Another example of a good father. Was God sending them as reminders that he hadn’t known that kind of fathering? That he had his father’s blood flowing through his veins and would most certainly fail to be the kind of father a child deserved?
“Thief. Thief. Stop that man.” He jerked around in time to see a figure dart out of sight and like many others, joined in the chase. Jeb came around the corner, alerted by the call. He reached out and caught the culprit.
It was but a young boy...maybe twelve or thirteen.
“Pa?” He looked around for his father.
Bo watched a man duck back, prepared to let his boy stand on his own. Perhaps even had sent the boy to snatch the money, knowing it would go easier with a youngster. In fact, Jeb dragged him back to the leathersmith display and had him return the money, then let him go with a warning.
If Bo needed any evidence to prove the evil of bad fathering, this was it and he strode away. The rest of the afternoon sped away quickly as he spoke to each vendor and visited with his friends and neighbors. It was especially heartening to see Molly and CJ Thorn with their baby son, Isaac. They had married recently, brought together by the matchmaking efforts of CJ’s twin nieces, who giggled as they chased after a bit of red bunting. He wished them nothing but happiness in their life together.
Several times young ladies came up to him and gave a dime in exchange for a dance with him on Saturday night. There was one woman who did not offer him a dime. Louisa. Of course, she was too busy, but still, he wished it otherwise.
He paused to order coffee and two cookies at a booth and deposit the required coins. “How are sales?” he asked Mrs. Carson, who was taking her turn running the booth.
“Brisk.” She seemed pleased.
Finished with his coffee, he returned his cup and turned in time to see eighteen-year-old Annie Hill and nineteen-year-old Jamie Coleman slip behind a tent. So that was the way it was. Perhaps it would be the means to ending the feud between their families. His jaw tightened. More than likely it would simply increase the tension in the feud.
The shadows lengthened and people began to drift away except for those who would stay and watch the animals. The fair was over for the first day.
Jeb called him over and together they went from booth to booth collecting the money that would go to the league. Bo’s grin widened with every stop. “We’ve done much better than I could have hoped and two more days to go.”
As they left the grounds with the heavy money bag, Bo noticed a man watching them from the protection of the trees and pointed him out to Jeb. “He’s the father of the lad you caught stealing.”
Jeb studied the man carefully. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”
“Let’s get this money into the safe.” They hurried to the bank, where George Henley waited to lock it up for the night.
Bo let out a relieved sigh when the safe closed and George locked it. His tension eased marginally as George double-checked the locks on the front door and the windows then let them out the back and locked it securely.
The worst thing Bo could imagine was having that money stolen.
“It’s safe,” George assured him.
“I’ll post a guard to make sure,” Jeb said.
“I’ll stay here until you get someone.” Bo had no intention of letting anyone try to get into the bank even if they weren’t able to crack the safe.
“You don’t have a gun.”
George pulled a derringer from his side pocket and handed it to Bo. “It’s not much but it’s all I have.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” Jeb trotted away.
George paused a moment then leisurely walked away...as if to communicate to anyone watching that he had no concerns.
Bo wished he felt half as confident. He palmed the little gun and remained alert to every sound and movement. There was no sign of the man he believed to be a danger, but still he did not relax until Jeb returned with two men carrying rifles and wearing sidearms. One stood at the front door, the other at the back. Even then Bo hesitated to leave them.
Jeb gave him a little push. “Trust us to do our job.”
“Put that way...” He made his way around to the front of the building and stared up and down Main Street. Lights glowed in some of the businesses as if the owners had last-minute things to do. He followed the same path he had yesterday in his desire to catch up to Louisa and convince her to be involved in the fair.
His steps slowed. Was that only yesterday? It seemed much longer ago.
He reached the doctor’s house and stood on the sidewalk studying it. How was Louisa doing with the triplets? Were the babies feeling any better? Was it too late to go to the door and ask?
A lamp burned inside. He crossed the street and hesitated in front of the house.
A demanding cry reached his ears and he made up his mind. She might well need someone to help her. He rapped on the door and waited. His toe nudged something and he bent to pick up three worn toys—a stuffed bear, a stuffed rabbit and a stuffed cat. How odd. Who would have dropped the toys there?
He glanced up and down the street but saw no one. At that moment, Louisa opened the door holding one squalling baby. Another cried from behind her.
He handed her the toys. “Could you use an extra pair of arms?” He might not be the sort of man to be a good father, but he could at least help Louisa care for the babies until further arrangements were made.
Chapter Four (#ulink_10d218fa-0bba-5b33-938b-fa5e69d00d2c)
Louisa couldn’t remember ever being so relieved to see someone come to the door. Father had been home a couple of hours ago but was called away again almost immediately. She struggled alone trying to cope with the babies growing increasingly fussy. Now Bo was here and she meant to take advantage of another pair of hands. She grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. “They’re all crying at once.” She handed him Theo. “Sit in the big chair and hold Jasper too.” Thankfully he obeyed her request without comment. Likely he took in her ruffled appearance, her hair in untidy strands, and decided she needed rescuing. She hurried to explain her desperation. “They’ve napped. They’ve eaten and consumed their milk. I’ve treated their earaches and sponged them to take down their fevers, but they are more and more unhappy. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She’d wiped noses and changed diapers. She’d sung. Most of all, she felt like joining them in a good cry.
He jostled the two babies on his knees as she put more warm oil in Eli’s ears. He wailed a protest.
“What makes babies unhappy?”
“Being sick. Having earaches.”
“What else? Maybe missing their mama?”
She stared at him. How had he seen the problem so clearly? “Of course. The poor little mites.” Every bit of fatigue and frustration ended. “Maybe these little toys you brought will comfort them.” She handed one to each of them. Only Jasper took the offered toy.
“I didn’t bring them. They were on the step. I thought maybe you dropped them or—” He bolted to his feet, a baby in each arm. “Their mother? I must look. You sit and hold them while I try and find her.” They traded places and she sat with the three babies squirming and sobbing in her lap.
As he dashed out the door, she sang to the babies. “Safe in the arms of Jesus.”
A little later, he tapped on the door and reentered. Eli slept but the other two continued to fuss. Seeing that Louisa had made a bed for them on the floor again, he took Eli from her arms, laid him down and covered him with a light sheet. Then he took Jasper and left Theo with Louisa.
“They seem to like my singing,” Louisa said somewhat apologetically.
“Then sing.”
She cleared her throat and began the song again. “‘Safe in the arms of Jesus.’”
“Good choice.” He grinned at her then joined his voice to hers, his deep and rich, like finest chocolate, and even the fussing boys grew quiet as if they wanted to hear him better.
Soon the two babies slept in their arms.
Louisa didn’t want to put Theo down. Didn’t want to end this moment of sweet harmony. Bo made no move toward putting Jasper down. Perhaps he too felt the stir of something peaceful between them.
“How was the fair?” she asked, her voice low so she wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby in her arms.
“A good turnout. We brought in more than I expected. That’s a good thing. Seems we’ll need more money than we originally thought.” He inclined his head toward the babies.
“How sad that a woman feels she has to give up on her offspring.” Though her note suggested she expected to die. If they could find her, perhaps they could aid her so she would live.
He nodded. “But an unselfish act, wouldn’t you say. I’m sure it was extremely hard for her but she loved them enough to do what she thought was best for them.”
Louisa understood about sacrifices for the sake of love. “Love is a powerful compeller.”
“I saw it in action today.” He told her about a lost boy being reunited with his parents and an older boy helped by his kind father. “Then to keep things in balance there was this other man.” A man who appeared to send his son to commit a crime then to abandon him when he was caught. “It reminded me so much of my father. Not that my father was involved in crime. Oh, no. He was an upright citizen with a successful business. All I can say is he must have treated his employees and customers better than he treated his family.” He shifted Jasper. “I find that odd. Shouldn’t those in your family deserve the best you have to give?”
“I certainly believe that.”
He studied her across the room, his pale eyes catching the lamplight and holding it.
She wanted to say more. Wanted to learn more about him. Tell him about her family. But again, she couldn’t find the words.
The door eased open and Father entered the house, smiling when he saw the triplets all asleep. “Bo, it’s good to see you helping.” He smiled at the baby sleeping on Bo’s lap then turned to Louisa. “Has their fever stayed down?”
“It’s been two hours since it last spiked.”
“Good. Good. Let’s pray it lasts.”
Louisa’s conscience stung. She’d been so preoccupied she hadn’t thought to pray for the babies since earlier in the day.
A quiet knock came on the door. Father opened it to Brandon Stillwater.
“I thought I would check on the triplets and see if there is anything they need.” He glanced about the room at one curled up on the floor, another in Louisa’s lap and the third sleeping in Bo’s arms and chuckled. “Looks real good on you, brother.”
“Don’t be thinking I’ll do something foolish. You know how I feel about this.” His glance included the babies and Louisa.
Oh, yes, he included her. Not that he needed to. She was no more interested in marriage and family and him than he was in her and domesticity. She eased to her feet and lowered Theo to the quilt beside Eli, then lifted Jasper from Bo’s arms, doing her best not to touch the man but failing. Her hand slid across his chest, feeling the strength and warmth. Her arm brushed his shoulder. And her heart reacted with a kick against her ribs. She ignored her reactions and put Jasper down beside his brothers. She stood over them, smiling at how peaceful and sweet they were.
Bo and Brandon stood on either side of her, fencing her in so she couldn’t escape. Escape? From what? She knew what she was—her mother’s caregiver—and who—the doctor’s spinster daughter. The plain one. But she was at peace with her role in life. The role God assigned for her. Except looking after the babies and sharing their care, even for a few minutes with Bo, triggered a deep maternal longing.
“I’ve heard there is nothing more peaceful than a sleeping baby,” Brandon said. “And here we have it in threes.”
Father stood to one side. “I hope they stay that peaceful throughout the night and their fevers don’t return.”
“Why don’t we pray for that?” Brandon had his hat in hand and held it to his chest. “Father God, You see here these three little ones. We trust You have sent them to us for a reason. Help them get well. Help them sleep well.”
Bo didn’t wait for his brother to finish. “Help us find their mother and be able to help her. And may the fair be a success.”
“And may Your name be honored. Amen.”
Louisa realized the two men finished each other’s speech and likely their thoughts. Wouldn’t it be fun to see the same thing, only with three little boys? Even now they interacted among themselves with a unity she found endearing.
Bo and Brandon stepped toward the door in unison. “We bid you good-night,” they said as one. And in matching movements placed their hats upon their heads as they left the house.
Louisa grinned. “Do you suppose they know their actions are like mirrors of each other?”
Father chuckled. “I don’t suppose they do.” He looked at her temporary arrangement for the triplets’ bed. “Will they be okay here on their own for the night?”
“I plan to sleep on the sofa so I can keep a watch on them.” They were able to scoot around a bit but hadn’t moved much so far because they weren’t feeling well. No doubt once they felt better that would change. It would be a challenge to keep them safely corralled.
That was a problem she’d deal with when the time came and count herself blessed for the little time they were with her. She covered a huge yawn.
Father chuckled. “I can see you’re tired. I’m off to bed. I hope they sleep for you. Good night, daughter.” He kissed her on her cheek and retired to his room closest to the clinic area off the kitchen.
She didn’t move for a moment as she looked toward the room not yet ready for Mother. Somehow she must manage to tend to that job as well as care for the triplets. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The room could wait. For now she would enjoy having some babies to care for.
She prepared for bed, careful not to make any noise and disturb the peaceful babies. With a pillow for her head and quilt for cover, she got as comfortable as she could on the sofa. It had been a busy day and her muscles welcomed the chance to relax.
Sleep came softly, filled with dreams of three little boys toddling about, laughing at each other and running to her for comfort. Even in her dream she knew it wasn’t possible but the dream was sweet, nevertheless.
A sharp cry wakened her and she looked about, disoriented. Then remembrance flooded back and she bolted upright. One of the triplets was crying. If she could get to him in time, she might prevent him from waking the others.
Even as she struggled to her feet, a second voice joined the first. By the time she lit the lamp, all three fussed.
One sounded hoarse. She bent close. Theo struggled to breathe. The other two coughed. They had grown worse. She gathered Theo into her arms. “Poor little boy.” She rubbed his back and spoke comfortingly to him.
The other two lay at her feet, coughing and miserable.
She sat on the floor, her back to the sofa, cradling the babies around her. She propped them up on pillows so they could breathe easier but Theo’s air whistled in and out. He needed steam, but when she tried to push to her feet, they all protested and she sank back.
Father slept through it all, for which she was grateful. His nights were often disturbed and cut short by calls.
The sound of Theo’s lungs working so hard grew more intense. She needed to boil water but she didn’t have enough hands. If she went out of their sight, they would panic, making it even more difficult for them to breathe.
Lord, help me. She should have sent for Annie but the girl was so excited about going to the fair that Louisa didn’t want to spoil her fun. In fact, she hated to ask anyone to give up time at the fair.
Theo coughed and gagged. He struggled to suck in air.
A dark wave rushed through Louisa. Don’t die. Don’t die. Please, God, help me.
Relying solely on instinct and experience as the doctor’s daughter, she flipped him over and patted his back. He coughed and coughed until she thought he would surely cough out his lungs. And then he sucked in a whistling breath and her own lungs gasped in air.
She could not delay any longer. She must steam Theo—all of them—and ignoring the tortured cries of Jasper and Eli, she perched Theo on her hip as she hurried to the kitchen, built up the fire and filled the kettle.
How would she get steam to each of them? Normally she would have built a tent out of sheets, but if she disappeared from sight to fetch them, the babies would get even more upset. She grabbed the nearest thing that would work—a linen tablecloth. Placing a pot of steaming water on a chair where she could make sure the triplets couldn’t touch it, she sat on the floor, gathered them to her knees and draped the cloth over them all, her head forming one tent pole, the back of the chair, another. Steam filled the small area. The moisture dampened her pores, and within minutes, the babies’ breathing eased.
She remained there, closeting them into a cocoon of moisture. The water cooled but inside the tent the air continued to be warm. The babies coughed, but they didn’t choke.
Theo began to whistle again with each breath. Knowing she couldn’t leave it so long this time, she folded back the cloth and did her best to slip away from the babies. They fussed at being disturbed but she had no choice and repeated the procedure.
Even when the triplets slept, she dare not let herself fall asleep for fear she wouldn’t hear a change in their breathing soon enough.
Oh, for morning. Maybe some good soul would appear to help her. Finally the first pink rays of sunrise colored the eastern sky. Father rose, but at the sound of someone in the waiting room, he immediately left. “I’ll see who it is.” A moment later, he stuck his head back in the room. “A man has been seriously injured in a fall. I must attend him. Will you be okay?”
She’d managed the babies all night. “I’ll be fine.” But as he left she realized how alone she was.
