Season of Love (Cutter's Creek Book 11) Page 4

  She noticed for the first time how kind his eyes looked. He was so tall and masculine that it was easy to miss. She’d always felt a little intimidated around him due to his size, but now she felt herself relaxing in his presence.

  She sighed and smiled wearily at him. “No, that’s okay. They shouldn’t be much longer, and I don’t want to be gone when they decide. I feel as though I’m about to burst with the anticipation. Will my life continue on the path it’s been following, or be completely changed forever?” She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the snow. She felt Heath’s eyes on her, and glanced up to catch him regarding her with what seemed like a mixture of affection and curiosity. Her cheeks flushed with warmth.

  Just then, the chapel doors burst open, the reverend stepped outside and beckoned Margaret in. She looked at Heath, who smiled and nodded his encouragement. Then she skipped up the stairs and through the double doors.

  “Meg, thank you for joining us,” said the reverend.

  She glanced around the entryway at the six couples standing there. Several smiled, others wouldn’t meet her gaze. Two of the women sniffled and had red-rimmed eyes. “Have you decided?” she asked, feeling her heart begin to race again.

  “Yes. we have. Given the children’s … dissatisfaction with the current arrangements, their guardians have agreed to give you custody of all six of them.”

  Margaret gasped, her heart skipping a beat. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Her hand flew to her throat, and she swallowed hard.

  “Now, of course, as Heath raised earlier, you will need help. These families and several others around town have already let me know they’re willing to assist you with groceries, clothing and so on. Mind, they don’t all have a lot of resources themselves, and many have children of their own, so it won’t be much. But hopefully it’ll be enough to keep you all going.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at the couples. “I know this has been a difficult decision, but I promise I will do my best for the Singer children.”

  One of the men, Fred Tattersall the bakery owner, sniffed. “Good riddance, far as I’m concerned,” he spat.

  Margaret’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I’m sorry?”

  His wife addressed her now. “Tommy’s been trouble since the day we got ‘im. Good luck to you, miss. We’ll go fetch ‘im directly.” The couple strode from the church without a backward glance. The others soon followed. Hilton and Anne Beckworth gave her a sympathetic look, and Anne sniffled into a handkerchief as they left, but most seemed unmoved by the whole transaction.

  When they were gone, Margaret raised her eyebrows questioningly at the reverend.

  He coughed. “Well. Sorry about that, Miss Hutchins. Some of them are plain worn out from the children’s escapades and are happy to see the back of them. But maybe they’ll be better behaved now that they’ll be together. We can only hope and pray that will be true.” He patted her shoulder, and they walked together out into the frigid night air.

  Heath still stood outside by his sleigh, and waved a hand to her as she carefully descended the stairs. “So?”

  She walked over to him. “They’re mine,” she said, pressing her hands to her head in disbelief.

  He grinned wryly and gave her arm a gentle pat. “Well, I guess that means everything’s changed, then.”

  Her skin tingled beneath her thick clothing where he’d touched her, and she felt her heart skip another beat. “Yes, I guess it does.”

  “I’ll give you all a ride home if you like.”

  She nodded, and sighed in relief. “Thank you, that would be wonderful. I came here with the Carlsons earlier, and they’ve gone home already. My own sleigh is too small to fit us all now – I suppose I’ll have to do something about that before long.” Yet another thing she hadn’t considered – how would she transport her new family, in addition to feeding, clothing and housing them?

  Margaret drew a deep breath and tugged her coat more tightly around her shivering shoulders.

  Chapter Four

  Within minutes, each of the children had arrived at the chapel. Some had guardians in tow; others were alone with a tattered suitcase or bag in one little hand. One girl had her thumb firmly planted in her mouth, even though she looked far too old for such a habit.

  Heath handed them each into the sleigh, and Margaret greeted them as warmly as she could as they told her their names. Mostly they stared at her with stony, stoic little faces, sitting side by side on the long timber seats. Margaret was pressed close to Heath’s side, with little Danny, the youngest, on her knee, and the twins Elspeth and Harriet (the thumb-sucker) beside her on the seat. There was silence except for the gentle jingle of the bells strung along the traces.

  As they rode back to her farmhouse, Margaret stared straight ahead, panic rising in her throat. How did she think she could do this? She’d never even baby-sat for anyone. Granted, she was a teacher, but that was different. She was going to be a mother now – and not to just one child, but six!

  The sleigh pulled in front of the farmhouse and Heath brought the horses to a halt. “We’re here,” he called cheerfully. He and Margaret helped the children from the sleigh and carried their luggage inside. The house was cold and dark, and Margaret began lighting lanterns while Heath built a fire in the big stove.

  Once that was done, Margaret clapped her hands. “Children, come here a moment, please.”

  They lined up in front of her, their thin faces sullen.

  “Welcome to your new home. For those of you who don’t know already, my name is Margaret Hutchins, and you can all call me Miss Hutchins. This house was left to the school by the widow Cuthbert several years ago, and as the only teacher at the school I have the privilege of living here. There’s plenty of room for everyone. You can choose which bedroom you’d like – some rooms have two beds, some only one. I’m so happy you’re here and I think we’re going to have a wonderful time together. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She looked around at the children’s faces with a warm smile, waiting for a response, but there was none. Mary Beth, the oldest, scowled at her with her arms folded across her chest.

  She glanced at Heath, who raised his eyebrows. It looked like she was on her own. “Okay. Well then, here’s a lantern. Go upstairs and pick out your beds. Linens are in the linen closet in the hall. I’ll be up directly to help you all make up the beds.”

  The children filed upstairs as she watched, stretching her smile for as long as she could. As soon as the last pair of little legs disappeared up the staircase, she slouched into a chair at the kitchen table and put her face in her hands. “Oh land sakes, what have I done?”

  Heath sat next to her. “You’ve done a wonderful thing.”

  “Did you see their faces? They’re miserable. They don’t want to be here.”

  “They’re just feeling unsettled. They don’t know what to expect. They lost their parents, and now their guardians. It’ll just take some time, but I’m certain they’ll grow to love you. It’s all going to work out.” His voice was warm and sweet to her ears.

  She lifted her face from her hands and looked at him. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, thank you for your help – I certainly appreciate it.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Everything will be different now. My life must be all about these children. I have to think about what they need, rather than myself – I haven’t had to do that before. It will be quite the adjustment for me.” She spoke as much to herself as to Heath.

  “Listen, tomorrow is Saturday, so I’ll drop by in the morning after I’ve done a few things around the ranch.”

  “Thank you,” said Margaret. “But please don’t feel obliged.”

  He frowned. “I don’t feel obliged, I assure you. I offered to help, and I intend to – if you don’t mind, that is.”

  “I appreciate any help you can give, of course.” She smiled and placed her hands in her lap.

 
“See you then?” He stood and turned to leave.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He walked out into the night, leaving Margaret in the empty kitchen. She looked around for a moment as if in a daze, then headed for the staircase behind the kitchen to help the children get ready for bed. She’d have to make some bread before the night was over, since there wasn’t a slice in the house. Now there were so many mouths to feed, she’d have to make sure there was always plenty of food.

  She caught up her skirts with both hands and hurried up the stairs, praying all the way. Oh God, I need your help – I can’t do this on my own. I don’t know how to be a mother, or how to provide for so many little ones. Give me strength and peace, and help me not to ruin their lives completely. Amen.

  ***

  The next morning, Margaret opened her eyes a crack, peering at the drapes beyond the end of her bed. She’d forgotten to pull them closed before falling into bed the previous night, and the pale winter sunlight had crept over the windowsill and up onto the bed. The glare on her eyelids had dragged her from a deep slumber.

  When she realized what it was that had woken her, her eyes opened wide. She was late!

  She threw back the covers and leaped to her feet. How had she slept until well after dawn? She always rose before dawn in winter! Yet here it was, her first morning as a mother, and she’d slept until … she glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall … eight o’clock!

  She cried out in alarm and hurried to dress herself, then pushed her hair into a bun, fastening it with pins. What would the children think of her? It was all because she’d been determined to get everything ready to prepare breakfast the next day before going to bed. She’d finally dropped into an exhausted sleep after midnight.

  She paused for a moment. Odd … why hadn’t she been woken by the sounds of children playing? Or any sound at all? She was generally a light sleeper, so if they had made a noise she would have most likely heard it. Her heart sank. Perhaps they’d already snuck out and run away to some secret location like the schoolhouse. They could be anywhere by now. How could this happen? She’d already failed to deliver on her promise to the town, and she’d failed the children! After saying a quick prayer that she’d find them quickly, she hurried downstairs, almost tripping over her latest canvas painting that was drying in the hallway.

  When she reached the kitchen, she noticed a dish towel open on the table, holding some day-old biscuits. Crumbs lay scattered around it and across the floor to the back door. But, there were no children in sight. She ran to the back door and flung it open, her heart racing as she scanned the backyard and the edge of the woods. There were dozens of boot prints through the thick surface of snow.

  Then she saw them, hidden among the evergreens, sitting on tree stumps or standing in the midst of low-hanging branches. They were watching a herd of deer dig their snouts through a thin patch of snow under the eaves of the barn to eat the grasses buried there. The children seemed to be mesmerized by the sight – not a single one moved.

  They stayed that way, watching the deer while Margaret watched them. Her heart rate slowed, and she sighed in relief. They were still here, playing quietly and, she noted, dressed warmly as well. She needn’t have worried about them. Perhaps they’d change their ways now that they were all together – it was certainly what she was hoping. She closed the back door quietly and returned to the kitchen to begin fixing the children a proper breakfast – something better than stale biscuits.

  In the larder she cut several large slices of salt pork and carried them to the stove to fry. She sliced potatoes and laid them in the pan with the pork. The sizzle of grease and potatoes echoed through the room, and soon the house was full of delicious smells. The dough she’d mixed the night before was sitting in a greased pan on the table, and had risen slowly throughout the night. She popped in the hot oven. One of the children must have lit it when they came downstairs, and it had already warmed the kitchen nicely.

  Margaret smiled as she noticed how thoughtful the children had been – lighting a fire in the stove, getting themselves a breakfast of sorts without waking her, dressing warmly and going outside to play. Maybe this was all going to work out after all. They were certainly more independent than she’d supposed, but then they’d had to be …

  The thought filled her with sadness, and her heart ached for them once more. Well, no more of that now – things were going to change. She was going to help them find some joy again. She was determined that this Christmas would be a happy one for them.

  When she poked her head out the door half an hour later, the deer were gone and the older children were laughing and chattering, working hard on two lopsided snowmen. The two younger boys were chasing each other around the yard with snowballs in their gloved hands. “Breakfast!” she called.

  Six heads swung toward her in an instant. The revelries ceased, and the children slumped and slouched toward the house, filing in without a word. She frowned – what had happened? As soon as they’d seen her, they’d gone from carefree and playful to sullen and morose. “Good morning, children,” she said with a smile, but in return got only a few grimaces and another scowl from Mary Beth.

  Well, press on. “There’s fresh bread, fried potatoes and salt pork – it’s all on the table. If you’d like to wash up, we can eat.” Margaret spoke as cheerily as she could, untied her apron and smoothed her flyaway hair. She walked to the stove, poured herself a cup of strong black coffee and took her place at the head of the table. The children all washed up in the wash bowl by the stove and sat around the table, with Danny on a tall stool beside her since there were only six chairs.

  “Let’s pray,” she began, and the children bowed their heads over clasped hands. “Father in Heaven, thank You for this bounty. May you bless it to our bodies and help us to grow in our love for You and for each other. Thank You for this wonderful family You’ve blessed us with, and help us each to show compassion and care for our loved ones. In Your holy name, Amen.”

  The children began to eat, politely at first, but before long they were digging in as though they hadn’t seen food in a long time. Margaret watched them in astonishment. Manners soon disappeared, and they shoved salt pork into their mouths along with bites of warm buttered bread and slurps of milk.

  She waited until they were all finished before she spoke. “So, children … I didn’t get a chance to say much to you last night. I know this all happened rather quickly, and you’re probably still a little shaken by the change. Let me explain a little bit about why –”

  “No need,” said Mary Beth snidely. “What do grown folks care ‘bout how we feel? They didn’t care ‘bout us, and neither do you. They weren’t sorry to see us go, and you won’t be either.”

  Margaret’s mouth fell open in shock. She’d never been spoken to in that way by a child before and wasn’t sure how to respond. Perhaps she should set the tone for future interactions by providing some discipline. She couldn’t allow them to think it was acceptable to speak to an adult that way. She dropped her eyes to the table and gathered her thoughts.

  When she raised them again to address Mary Beth, she saw the tremble in the girl’s lower lip, one she was working terribly hard to hide. She noticed the pain in the girl’s eyes. She sighed, realizing discipline wasn’t the great need here, and pushed a smile onto her face. “My dear Mary Beth …”

  “Yes?”

  “I know it’s been hard for you. I lost my parents when I was barely older than you are. I didn’t go through the same hardships you have, but I experienced my fair share. That’s why I asked if I could take all of you in. I know how much you long to be together, since your brothers and sisters are all you have left. It’s not fair to keep you apart. This arrangement is certainly not going to be easy – I’ve never cared for children at home before. I’m a teacher, so I’ve got that experience, but I’ll need all of you to help me as well. Do you think you can do that?”

  The younger boys nodded, but the older
four simply exchanged glances. She could see it would take a while to win them over.

  The sound of bells jingling along the road drew her attention. She picked up her empty plate and carried it into the kitchen. The jingling came up the drive and she hurried to the front door to see who it was, grabbing a shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders. When she opened the door, she saw Heath climbing down from his sleigh. He waved and hitched his horse to a post.

  She stepped out onto the front porch to greet him, but instead of coming toward the house he veered around to the back of the sleigh. He opened up the trunk and emerged with two large cloth bags of groceries. He carried them to the porch and set them down on the weathered planks. As he tipped his hat, his eyes sparkled at Margaret, and he smiled. “Good morning, Miss Hutchins. How is everything this fine day?”

  “Good morning to you, Mr. Moore – we’re fine, thank you. What have you here?” she added, peering into the tops of the bags.

  “I thought you could probably do with some groceries, seeing as how you weren’t expecting to be bringing home six little ones last night.” He chuckled. “Life’s changed a bit for you since yesterday morning, I’d say. Are they settling in all right?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I’m not quite sure yet. They’re still here, so that’s something, I guess. We just finished eating breakfast, though I think some of them might want more. They’re certainly hungry. Mary Beth isn’t very happy with me or with adults in general, but the younger ones are warming up a bit.”

  “Yeah, it’ll probably take some time. I’ll just get the rest of the bags, and then I thought I’d do a few things around the place, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Yes, of course. What kind of things?” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm them. She would have fetched her coat if she’d known she’d be out here this long.