the man sitting beside her bed.
“Wait!” Robert Lee said. “What am I supposed to do?”
“We’ll be back soon enough,” Alice said. “For now, you’re doing just fine.”
Robert Lee started to shake. What if he did something wrong? What if he dropped the baby? What if—
The baby squeaked.
Robert Lee held his breath.
Letty hadn’t moved.
The baby settled.
He exhaled slowly, then leaned back in the chair, shifted his hold, then looked up, and for the first time since he’d walked onto Potter land, gazed his fill of the woman who held his heart.
A Rooster In The Hen House
It was mid-morning of the next day when Alice drove Mildred Warren back home. Soon after that, the news began to spread.
Letty Potter had given birth to her dead husband’s child. That it was a boy baby was viewed by most as good fortune. At least Potter would have someone to carry on his name.
It was Milton Feasley who first coined the phrase, a little rooster in the hen house, but it soon took hold.
Letty basked in her new role as mother. Her manner was softer, her voice less strident. Everything in the Potter household was moving at a slower pace. But it wasn’t slowing down winter. It came blasting through the Rockies within two weeks of Little Bit’s birth, dumping six inches of snow and a drop in temperature that chilled a man all the way to the back of his teeth.
Robert Lee took on the role of tending to the animals and the wood cutting, as well as going into town for supplies. Letty had ordered new coats for everyone some time back, adding a good, long heavy coat made for riding for Robert Lee. She’d also ordered some knitting yarn, some school books for Katie, and a large assortment of embroidery cotton. With a houseful of females likely to be snowed in until spring, they needed to be doing something through the long, cold days besides getting on each other’s nerves.
She didn’t know how Robert Lee felt about a houseful of women, but so far he wasn’t complaining, and there was the draw of Little Bit to keep him satisfied. Every evening when he came in from doing chores, he made it his business to rock the baby while supper was being cooked.
Letty often watched the interplay of emotions between the only two males in the house—now and then feeling a tiny bit jealous. There had been a couple of times when Robert Lee had been the only one to calm the baby’s fuss. At those times, a part of her resented the fact that Eulis hadn’t lived to see this. But then Robert Lee would look up at her with a laugh in his eyes, forcing her to remember that it was Eulis who had died and not her.
Christmas neared. Down in the city, Letty Potter’s son had taken on a persona not unlike that of a young prince. Women who’d shunned her for her wild ways now hinted at an invitation to visit.
Finally, it was Alice who came up with the idea to have an open house, similar to the ones her family had held during the holidays back in Boston. Letty was hesitant to expose Little Bit to so many people, but Mary suggested that they hold the party, and at some time during the fete Letty could introduce the child to everyone, then he’d be whisked away. Curiosity would be satisfied, and maybe life would settle down for all of them.
And so the planning began.
Invitations were sent out, and Alice began baking. With Robert Lee’s help, Delilah and Mary were responsible for decorating the house with fresh pine and cedar boughs. Katie got the job of polishing the silver and spent hours working on everything from flatware to teapots.
Robert Lee secretly bought a new suit and boots for himself and had his hair trimmed to shoulder length. No one knew that he’d grown up in a whirl of grand parties and soirees’ his parents had often held, and he wasn’t about to admit it at this late date. Growing up, he’d taken wealth for granted, then learned the hard way how to live without it. The irony of how his life had come full circle was not lost upon him.
And then there was Letty. If she was going to host this grand party, then she needed a grand dress to mark the occasion. She had one that she’d ordered right after they’d struck gold, but the occasion had never