managed to find his voice. “I got no Bible.”
Daisy turned to Cassie. “Do you?”
She nodded. “I’ll get it.” She hustled to the shelter, and disappeared from sight. They all stared after her.
Roper had to wonder if the children felt as awkward as he. But likely not. This was familiar to them.
Cassie returned and handed him a Bible bound in brown leather. He trailed his fingers over the soft cover.
“It was my husband’s.”
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. He knew she’d been married before. Their first introduction referred to her as a widow. Yet holding this solid proof of a lost love did something unsettling to his insides. “You sure you don’t mind us using it?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t do much good tucked in the bottom of a bag, now does it? Besides, the children have made a request. Shouldn’t you try and fulfill it?”
He opened to the first page. Presented to George James Godfrey on the occasion of his sixteenth birthday by his loving parents.
Swallowing a lump of guilt, feeling as if he had inadvertently ventured into private territory, he quickly turned the page. This certifies that Cassie Ann Muddbottom and George James Godfrey were united in Holy Matrimony. He sputtered back a snort of laughter. Muddbottom. Some of his mirth leaked out. He felt Cassie’s considering look and flipped the page. Births and deaths. He should not read this. It was too personal. But his eyes did not obey his brain. Baby boy Godfrey. Baby girl Godfrey. She’d had two children? Where were they? The answer lay in the record before him. They were born and died the same day. Oh, Cassie. I had no idea. If they’d been alone he would have spoken his sympathy. Maybe even risked her ire by pulling her into his arms and patting her back.
Instead, he sucked in a gulp of air and continued turning pages till he got to the pertinent stuff. He cleared his throat and read, “‘In the beginning God...’” He read to the end of the chapter then slowly closed the book.
The children sighed as if content. The feeling lasted about thirty seconds before he realized they waited for him to pray for their safety throughout the day. Just as their pa had.
He sat up taller and squared his shoulders. He wasn’t their pa, but he could do this. “Let’s pray.” They all bowed their heads. Even Cassie. His throat tightened as he glanced at them. Maybe this was how fathers felt, though he wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling. Protectiveness, or responsibility or... He swallowed back a lump at the word that sprang to his mind. Joy. Joy at such a privilege. It was his first real taste of being part of a family and he rather liked it. Even as a portion of his brain reminded him of one of his rules. Don’t put down roots. You’ll only have them ripped out. It wasn’t a lesson he cared to repeat.
He ducked his head before anyone wondered what took him so long. “Dear God in heaven, who made the earth and everything in it, please watch over us today. Keep us safe. Help us be happy. Amen.”
Daisy got to her feet, shifted Pansy farther up her hip and gathered up the dishes with her free hand. “I’ll wash them.”
Neil headed for the water bucket. “I’ll fetch more water.”
Billy glanced about. “What should I do?”
“Get more firewood,” both older children said at once and the entire family set to work.
Roper fingered the Bible on his lap. He wanted to say something to Cassie about her losses. But he didn’t want to upset her. Seemed being reminded of two dead babies and a deceased husband just might do that. But he enjoyed sitting by her side and didn’t want her to leave. “Do all families do that?”
She jerked and seemed to gather herself up from some distant spot. “Do what?”
“Read the Bible and pray each morning. Is that what all families do?”
She turned then and considered him with such brown-eyed intensity he had to force himself not to squirm.
“I’m guessing they didn’t do so in the orphanage?”
“Nope. We stood for grace. Ate quietly and without complaint even when the food was thin gruel, then gathered our dishes and carried them to a big tub before we marched to our classrooms.”
“No Bible instruction?”
He chuckled at the idea of wasting time on such an activity. “On Sunday we were given religious instruction. When I was about ten there was a sweet old man who came in and told Bible stories and made it seem like fun. A lot of us became believers when he was there. But he only came a couple of years. The rest of the time we had stiff preachers who intoned a sermon for us.” He realized his voice imitated their mind-numbing monotone and he grunted. “Haven’t thought about it in a long time. I remember the sessions were so boring some of the little ones would fall asleep. If they were caught they’d be punished. I made sure they didn’t get caught.”
Her eyes sparked with curiosity and a warmth that sent satisfaction into his soul. He liked having her regard him with eyes like that.
“What did you do?”
“To keep them from getting caught? If we were allowed to sit where we wanted, I sat with the little ones and played finger games that didn’t attract any attention but kept the little ones watching.” He illustrated by having the fingers of one hand do a jig on the back of the other. “It was nothing special but they had to keep alert to see when I’d do something.”
“And if you couldn’t sit with them?”
“Then it was harder. But one of the things I did was send a tap down the line. Everyone would pass it on to the little ones.”
“Seems you felt responsible for the younger children.”
He considered the observation. “It wasn’t really responsibility. Not like Daisy. It was more like I wanted everyone to be happy.”
Her grin tipped the flesh at the corner of her eyes upward. “I think you haven’t changed a great deal.”
He tried to think how he felt about her evaluation. He decided it was true and he didn’t mind that she’d noticed something he did without thinking about it. “Back to my original question.” He tipped his head to indicate the circle where the children had sat. “Is it normal? You have a family. Is that what you did?”
Her eyes darkened. The smile fled from her face. What had he said to bring such distress to her face? Whatever it was, it had been unintentional.
But how could he undo it when he was at a loss to explain it?
* * *
The ground beneath Cassie’s feet seemed to tip as a thousand memories crowded her mind. “My father died when I was nine so I don’t recall much about being a whole family.” Except she suddenly did. “I remember sitting on my father’s knee as he read aloud. We were in a rocking chair. A lamp glowed nearby so it must have been evening. Mother was in the kitchen so it was just me and...” She stopped the words that had come from nowhere. Just her and those comforting, secure arms. “Just me and my father.” The memory ached through her. She concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply. She forced strength
