the town will be closed up tighter than a drum, with folks celebrating with their families and such. Why don’t you plan on cooking dinner for me and getting Joshua settled in here? You can walk over and talk to Janet in the morning and sound her out about you staying at the store nights.”
Marianne considered the plan, not willing to put David to shame in any way, but the hour was late and the lights were out in the houses around them. It was beyond time for folks to be in bed and she accepted that her fate for this day was out of her hands.
“All right. We’ll do as you say, David. I’ll go on to bed now and be up early with the baby, then it will be time enough to cook your breakfast and take a walk to see Janet.”
He watched as she went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and his heart was full as he considered the day to come. He’d been beyond lonely without the companionship he’d come to enjoy with a wife. His years with Laura had been few, but his months without her had seemed an eternity, so quiet had been the house, so empty his heart.
For a moment he thought of another plan that might work, and decided to seek out Marianne’s thoughts in the morning. Should she be agreeable, they might be married and share the parsonage together, thus satisfying any gossip that might arise in town concerning her presence here. She was a lovely girl, with pleasing ways about her, and he didn’t doubt that she would be more than capable of running his home as his wife.
Whether or not Joshua was her own child or her brother, as she claimed, he was willing to accept her as she was, without any guarantees, and he might find an end to the long days and nights he’d spent alone.
He went to his bedroom and closed the door, aware that even through that stout panel he would hear should Joshua awaken during the night.
Chapter Three
The rooster in his neighbor’s chicken coop sounded his usual early-morning call, and David pulled the quilt up over his head, unwilling to leave the warmth of the dream he had enjoyed for the past few minutes. A dark-haired girl, her form slender yet pleasingly curved, had been featured throughout the night hours, and his sleep had been broken, his eyes opening suddenly several times as he awoke from nocturnal thoughts that were far from dignified.
He sat up suddenly, recalling the heated dreams he’d indulged in, and his heart stuttered within him as he considered the woman in the next room. Even as he thought of her, he heard the movement beyond his bedroom wall as she arose, heard the small, soft sounds of a baby’s cry as Joshua awoke, announcing his hunger aloud.
His trousers were on the bedpost and David slid into them quickly, made haste to don his shoes and stockings, tucked his shirt into his pants hurriedly and went to the kitchen.
He found Marianne there before him, intent on heating milk for Joshua’s breakfast. She’d put on a small pan, warming an amount of milk from his pantry that would be sufficient to fill the baby bottle she was washing in the sink. He watched her from the doorway, noting her quick movements, the soft curves of her arms as she worked the pump handle, the sway of her hips as she turned back to the stove to rescue the milk, lest it be too hot for the baby.
“Good morning,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. Her head turned quickly to where he stood and a rosy flush covered her cheeks, as if she had been trying to be quiet and had still disturbed his sleep.
“I tried not to wake you,” she said, and he smiled, aware that he had read her aright.
“That’s all right. It was time for me to be up and about anyway. The rooster always sounds his alarm at dawn, and I find it a good time to begin my day.”
She poured the warmed milk into the bottle, careful not to spill any on the stove, and he watched her graceful movements, his breath coming quickly as he bent his appreciative gaze on her. The nipple was snapped into place and she turned her attention to him quickly.
“I’ll just go and get Joshua and feed him before I make your breakfast,” she said, heading for the spare room.
“Why not bring him out here and let me feed him and you can go ahead with breakfast. We’ll kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
Her smile was quick and ready, and he basked in the warmth of it. “I’ll wait here in the rocking chair.” And for the first time in months he sat in the rocker he’d bought for Laura during her pregnancy, pressing his foot against the floor in a slow fashion, allowing the chair to perform as it had been constructed to do.
Marianne came back from the bedroom, Joshua wrapped securely in his blanket, and collected the bottle from the table as she approached David. Her arms were extended to him and he took the small bundle from her, feeling an emotion akin to sorrow as he held the tiny mite against his chest. So might he have held the child Laura had borne months ago, and he caught his breath quickly, lest Marianne think he did not want to feed Joshua as he’d offered.
His eyes felt damp with tears that he refused to shed. Not that it was a matter of manliness or masculine pride, but he would not make her uncomfortable with his spasm of sorrow. His grief was no longer fresh, and he found that he spent hours without its presence in his heart. Now he had the opportunity of holding a child, though not his own, yet in a sense he felt a kinship to Joshua.
That he had found the child in his manger in the midst of the Nativity scene he’d constructed with his own hands was certainly part of his feeling of ownership of the child. Though children could not be possessed as might a dog or cow or some other belonging, he felt that Joshua was meant in some distinct way to be a part of his life. He had had a wife, never treating her as a possession, but as a partner in the wonders of marriage. They had been happy together, her cheerful demeanor giving him joy each day, her loving arms filling him with the satisfaction of a relationship that went beyond friendship, and hovered on the edge of love.
He’d made the mistake of not speaking his love aloud to Laura, assuming that she knew of his devotion to her, and had spent long hours of regret after her death, that he had never declared his heart aloud. Should he ever have the opportunity again to share such a relationship with a woman, he would not make the same mistake, he vowed silently.
And then he cuddled the baby against him, testing the warmth of the milk in the palm of his hand as he offered the nipple to Joshua’s rosy mouth. With gusto the baby attached himself to the rubber nipple and nursed. The span of eight hours or so had made him hungry and he clung tightly to the source of nourishment, almost choking on the abundance of milk he consumed.
Finally he released the nipple and his burp was loud and long, Marianne turning from the stove to laugh at him.
“He has no manners to speak of,” she said with a joyous light in her eyes. “I’ve never enjoyed anything so much in my life as I have tending him over the past weeks. He keeps my grief at bay somehow. Even though I miss my parents terribly, he manages to soothe my heartache.” Her words were soft, almost whispered, but David heard them clearly, knowing the truth in what she said, for she did not seem to have any sense of protecting herself from him. She was open and her heart was clearly involved in the child he held.
He watched her as she sliced bacon and placed it in his skillet, cracked eggs and whipped them to a froth with a turning fork, then poured the mixture into a second skillet. Bread was sliced and she slid it into the oven, lifting a stove lid to check the flames within. She was efficient, capable of tending to the making of a meal, and she’d obviously been well trained in her skills in the kitchen.
“Did you cook for your mother and father?” he asked,
