A Heart's Blessing - Linda Ford Page 0,13

it’s all right if we miss it this one time.”

“Ahh. I wanted to help Mr. Remington carry in water.”

“Not tonight, Kent.” She hoped the warning in her voice was enough to stop him.

It wasn’t.

“But you said we always have to have our baths. You said we need to be clean to go to church. You said—”

“Yes, Kent, but now I’m saying not tonight.”

“About Sunday.” Mr. Remington’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Kent. “I don’t think your aunt is going to be able to go to church tomorrow.”

Kent looked more shocked than he had at being told he wouldn’t have to have a bath.

Delcie struggled between amusement at Kent’s reaction and annoyance at Mr. Remington’s assumption. What right did he have to make a decision for her?

“I’m going to church even if I have to go in a wheelbarrow.”

Mr. Remington laughed, his blue eyes sparkling, and his face wreathed in humor. “That would be something to see. Might even be worth going to church just for the entertainment.”

Kent followed Mr. Remington’s example and laughed.

The man sobered. “Are you always so stubborn?”

Laura had returned to the room in time to hear the conversation and smiled at Delcie’s annoyance. “He doesn’t know the half of it, does he?”

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Remington.” Delcie managed to keep her voice gentle and full of gratitude though she felt a whole lot more like gritting her teeth and scowling. “We can manage just fine now. Good night.”

The man had the gall to laugh as he donned his hat and wished everyone good night, Delcie last. His amused gaze lingered on her. Then he sobered. “I hope your ankle isn’t seriously injured.” Before she could answer, he stepped outside and closed the door.

The room was silent. Empty. As if he’d taken the joy of life with him.

For goodness’ sake. When had she gotten so foolish?

It could not be allowed. Not for the children’s sake and not for hers.

3

Ryder chuckled as he returned to his own place.

Miss Morton amused him. Independent. Industrious. Caring. But not the sort of woman who gave up an idea.

Kent, eager to help, was a boy any father would be proud of. Ryder couldn’t help but wonder where the children’s parents were.

Miss Fisher—well she was as skittish as a cornered mouse.

His feelings were murky when it came to Sally—the little girl demanding a kiss for herself and her doll unlocked a door he had vowed to never again open. One full of memories and hopes for his merry Myra. Now that the door was open, he wondered if he could ever close it again. He pushed aside thoughts of Sally and Myra.

Maybe his views about the women were just as murky. Not Miss Laura so much. Miss Morton was a different matter. Every time he looked at her, he felt like he was pushing his way through fog. Not sure he wanted to get to the other side. Afraid of what he’d find, yet curious too. And even a little bit eager as he caught glimpses of sunshine peeking through the fog.

Now look at him. He was acting like Sally—living in imaginations.

Miss Morton was stubborn, that was certain. Prepared to go to church in a wheelbarrow. Like he said. He might have to go too, simply to see that.

He was ready early—having bathed in a few inches of water in his round tub and having donned his best duds. He hadn’t worn them since…

It was the same outfit he’d had on for Cody’s court proceedings. At least Ma hadn’t lived long enough to see her younger son on trial for murder. God had been merciful on that score. Or had it been the courts? Or simply that the truth had come out?

The cuffs of his shirt were frayed. Mirabelle would have tsked and insisted on fixing them. But he didn’t care. Could see no reason why he should. He might use the shirt for work, or better yet, toss it out along with the memories it represented.

He’d polished his boots out of respect for the day.

A narrow bench rested in front of his shop and he parked himself on it to wait for the ladies to exit their premises. He’d seen no sign of a wheelbarrow. He chuckled. Surely, she wouldn’t really resort to that. Yet she just might be stubborn enough to follow through on her threat. Another chuckle rumbled from his lungs. It felt good. Refreshing to actually enjoy some amusement.

The back door of the café slapped. He