process, he snagged her gloved hand and twined his fingers through hers. Livy sat ramrod straight, aware of how close he sat. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand in slow, lazy circles that tied her insides in knots.
“You okay with going to see Susie’s baby?” Jake asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I’ll be fine.”
Babies were a fact of life, and the sooner she accepted that, the better off she’d be.
All too soon they arrived at Susie’s small farmhouse. The girls hurried to the door, chattering like magpies, anxious to see the baby. Tommy followed right behind them, although he’d said he didn’t want to see any ol’ baby. Jake came around the wagon to help Livy down.
His hand lingered on hers, and although she enjoyed the sensation, she didn’t want Susie and Charlie to get the wrong idea. She pulled away and turned to the back of the wagon. “Oh, don’t forget the food your mother sent over.”
“I’ve got it.” Jake snagged the hamper.
Charlie met them at the door, barely acknowledging them, his hungry eyes on the basket. “What you got there, old man?”
Jake laughed and handed over the prize. “Leftovers. Ma said you were probably hungry.”
“Starving.” Charlie led the way inside. “Susie and the baby are in the kitchen, where it’s warm.”
The girls were kneeling around Susie, who sat in a rocker, the infant nestled in her arms. Susie loosened the blanket so the girls could get a good look at the baby. The girls oohed and aahed, while Tommy helped Charlie empty the bounty onto the table. Jake sat on the bench and pulled Livy down beside him.
“What’s his name?” Mary asked.
“Charlie Andrew Benson III,” Susie said, sounding like any proud parent.
“But we’re going to call him Andy,” Tommy piped up, his mouth full. Livy shook her head. They’d just gotten up from the dinner table. Surely the boy couldn’t be hungry already.
Susie’s gaze met Livy’s. She smiled. “You must be Livy.”
“Oh, sorry, Sis. This is Livy O’Brien and that pretty little filly over there is Mary Gregory. Ladies, meet my sister Susie, her husband, Charlie, and little Andy.”
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Benson. Your baby is adorable.”
Susie laughed. “Oh, please call me Susie.”
“If you’ll call me Livy.”
Little Andy opened his eyes and yawned. Livy smiled. The adorable baby had a thatch of dark hair and a little rosebud of a mouth.
A pang at what might have been hit her. Memories of a tiny baby girl with dark hair and perfect fingers and toes but no life surged through her mind. Help me, Lord.
She took a deep breath and looked around, taking in the cozy kitchen and the warmth of the fire, thankful baby Andy lived in a warm home with a loving mother and father and aunts and uncles to take care of him.
What if Katie’s baby had lived? What kind of life would the child have had on the streets of Chicago? What if Katie had died and Livy’d been left to care for the baby? What would she have done then? Everything in her power to save Katie’s child, of course. But would it have been enough? As Mrs. Brooks always said, maybe it was for the best, because God didn’t make mistakes.
Susie unwrapped the baby. “Look at his fingers. They’re so tiny. Can you imagine him ever being big enough to hold a hammer or a hoe?”
“Or the reins of a horse.” Tommy pointed to the baby’s hands. “They look like a coon’s paw.”
Amid the laughter, Jake leaned over and let the baby grasp his index finger. The contrast of the baby’s tiny hand clasping Jake’s tugged on Livy’s heartstrings. He rubbed his thumb against the back of the baby’s hand, much as he had done to her on the ride over, and she remembered how he would have kissed her if they’d been alone.
Had his feelings for her changed? Developed into more? Maybe she’d been wrong to tell him she wasn’t interested.
Jake lifted his finger slightly. “For such a little fellow, he’s got a good grip.”
“And he eats like a horse too.” Susie’s eyes grew moist. “I’m so thankful he’s healthy.”
Jake chucked his sister under the chin. “You did good, Sis.”
Livy marveled at the resemblance between Jake and his sister. Jake’s babies would probably look like Andy. The Russell family all had dark hair and bronzed skin. She glanced at Charlie, busy making a dent in the provisions from Mrs. Russell’s kitchen. Charlie sported dishwater-blond hair and skin that freckled rather than