He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “One more thing.”
Abby looked at him, wondering what else was on his mind.
“Since this will be your home for the next several months, I would appreciate it if you took on the responsibilities of cooking and cleaning. I will, of course, pay you extra for that.”
Abby felt her mouth drop open in surprise. She snapped it shut, as her fair eyebrows puckered. “My home? I’m not sure I understand.”
Another of those frowns drew his dark eyebrows together in an expression of surprise that mimicked hers. “Surely Rachel explained that you and the children would have to stay here for the next few months. At least until Betsy is of weaning age.”
Chapter Two
Abby’s eyes widened. “Do you mean live here?”
Caleb resisted the urge to sigh. Without a word, he went to the kitchen door and summoned Rachel, who left Ben and Laura eating cookies. She came into the parlor, a troubled expression in the dark eyes that moved from one friend to the other.
“I think you’d do a far better job than I in explaining to Mrs. Carter why it’s necessary for her and the children to make this their home for the next few months.”
Rachel nodded and turned to Abby. “I can’t see any other way, can you?”
When Rachel suggested Abby become Betsy’s wet nurse and told her to gather up enough things for a few days, Abby had been so eager to help and so thankful to see some ease from her financial problems that she hadn’t given much thought as to how seeing to Betsy’s needs would be accomplished or what it might entail.
“Couldn’t I keep the baby at my place?”
Rachel looked to Caleb with raised eyebrows. After he’d vetoed the idea of Abby and her children moving in with him because they would be “disrupting his life, poking through his things, tracking in dirt and whining,” Rachel had suggested that he allow Abby to take Betsy to her place until she was old enough to drink from a cup, at which time he could hire someone to care for her through the day, while he took the nights.
Caleb had nixed the notion outright, proving the inflexibility he was known for. “Betsy belongs here,” he’d said. “Why can’t Mrs. Carter come over a few times a day and uh...feed...Betsy and then go home, or maybe she could stay all day and go home at night?”
Clearly near the end of her rope with his stubbornness, Rachel had given him her most stern “doctor” look. “I understand how you feel, Caleb, but Abby lives almost two miles on the other side of town going toward Antoine. Around six miles from here. It would be impossible for her to traipse back and forth with two children in tow, especially with winter coming on. Besides, babies get hungry through the night, too, at least for a while. Caring for Betsy would be a full-time job. Still, she is your child, and it’s your decision.”
Setting his jaw, Caleb had stared down at the baby. Neither scenario suited him, but he felt his resolve eroding in the face of necessity. As usual, he’d been given little choice in what happened in his life. With a sigh of acquiescence, he had set aside his feelings and agreed to what was required.
“Betsy belongs here,” he said now, repeating his earlier answer while staring implacably into Abby Carter’s anxious eyes.
Abby chewed on her bottom lip, her practical side battling her tender heart, weighing the facts as if they were on scales. On one side was the letter from the bank; on the other was a baby who needed her. She sighed. It all boiled down to one thing. Did she believe what she professed? Did she really trust that God was in control and that He answered prayers?
She thought of her house situated a half mile off the road between Wolf Creek and Antoine, with its small, homey kitchen she’d made cheerful by the addition of yellow-print feed-sack curtains and the copper pots that once belonged to her mother—one of the few things she hadn’t sold. Leaving the home she’d shared with William held little appeal, but with no other way to catch up on her missed note payments, there was no doubt in her mind that she would be leaving it sooner or later. One way or the other.
“How much are you willing to pay?” she asked, and gasped in surprise when she heard Caleb’s generous offer.
“That would include your taking on the household chores and cooking that I mentioned earlier.”
“I would be happy to take care of your household chores, since I’m not accustomed to idleness,” she told him. A sudden thought struck her. She looked from Rachel to Caleb. “What about my animals? Who would take care of them?”
“I can make arrangements to move them here for the time being,” her prospective employer offered.
Abby gave a helpless shrug. “It seems that between the two of you, you’ve thought of everything.”
“Not everything, I’m sure,” Rachel said. “The biggest obstacles, perhaps.”
At long last, Caleb unfolded his arms and extended his hand. “It seems, Mrs. Carter, that we find ourselves in positions of mutual need. I will do my best to be patient with your children if you will take good care of my daughter. Do we have a deal?”
Weighing her children’s requirements against the troublesome voice that whispered that she must be mad, she held out her own hand. Caleb Gentry’s was warm and strong and rough with calluses. When he released his hold on her, she took a step back. It was too late to renege now.
“I hear Laura,” Rachel said. “I’ll go tend to her and Ben while you two work out a few details.”
“Thank you.”
Once Rachel disappeared into the kitchen, Abby and Caleb spent the next several moments discussing how she would pay for the things she needed to run the household, and she explained the number and kinds of animals he would be taking responsibility for. He specified what times he liked his meals, and Abby explained that she spent a portion of each morning in lessons with the children, and had Bible time before bedtime, assuring him that she would not let it get in the way of her care of Betsy.
“There is one more thing,” she said, when it seemed they had most of the obvious wrinkles worked out.
“Yes?”
“Weather permitting, the children and I attend Wolf Creek Church every Sunday. I hope that won’t be a problem. Of course, it’s impossible to take Betsy out now, but I’ll be glad to take her when she’s old enough.”
“I have no problem with that, but I will not be accompanying you.” He excused himself, saying that he needed to unload her things from Rachel’s buggy and speak to his hands about moving her animals.
When he left the room, Abby drew in a shaky breath. She and Caleb Gentry would do their best to deal equitably with each other the next few months, since each had something the other needed. Simply put, neither of them had much choice. No matter what happened in the coming weeks and months, they would grin and bear it.
More likely they would grit their teeth and bear it, she thought, recalling the look on his face when she’d entered the parlor after the figurine had been smashed. She remembered the expression on Ben’s face when he’d said he didn’t like it there. Well, life had a way of throwing a lot of things at you that you might not like, a lesson Ben ought to learn sooner than later.
Putting on a determined face, Abby headed to the kitchen to relieve Rachel of the children and see if she could get to the bottom of what had happened to the shattered shepherdess. She prayed she could find the words to tell Ben they wouldn’t be going home for a while.
“Well?” Rachel said, when Abby entered the warmth of the kitchen.
Abby’s gaze found her son, who was helping Laura drink from a cup, holding a dish towel beneath her chin to catch the drips. At the moment,