Texas Cinderella. Winnie Griggs

was a bit restless, but for the most part they slept through the night. I imagine today is going to be rougher for Pru, though, as the blisters form and start itching. I remember what an ordeal it was to keep my brothers from scratching themselves raw when they had it.”

      He winced at that. “I vaguely remember having it myself, but not any of the particulars.”

      She raised a brow as she crossed the room to fetch an apron from the peg by the door. “You must have been mighty young.” She tied the apron strings behind her back. “Taking care of Pru and Noah is going to require lots of patience, as well as a bit of creativity in finding ways to distract them.”

      He grimaced. “Right now two weeks sounds like an excessively long time.”

      “About that.” Cassie Lynn crossed her arms. “Mrs. Flanagan and I spoke about your situation last night. We’d like to offer to help you care for the children for as long as they’re sick. Both of us have dealt with this before—me with my brothers, she with her sons. But that means letting them stay here with us while they get through this.”

      As she’d expected, his jaw set in that stubborn line again. “That’s a generous offer, but—”

      She held up a hand. “I understand your hesitation at being separated from them for so long, but all the reasons we discussed for not moving them last night still apply today. Besides, we’ve come up with a solution that should make this easier on everyone—you can stay here, too.”

      He raised a brow at that, his lips twisting wryly. “You’re inviting me to, what—camp out on the sofa in the parlor for two weeks?”

      She fetched her large stockpot and started filling it with water. “Well, you could do that,” she said, as she transferred the pot to the stove. “Or you could use the attic. I’m afraid there’s no bed up there, but it’s roomy and will provide you with some privacy. Mrs. Flanagan has lots of extra quilts you can use to make yourself a passably comfortable pallet, if you don’t mind bedding down on the floor.”

      Mr. Walker shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve bunked down in far less comfortable accommodations.” Then he rubbed his jaw, his expression indicating he still wasn’t convinced.

      Did he have that much trouble letting go of his notions of how things should go?