The children sighed as if content. The feeling lasted about thirty seconds before he realized they waited for him to pray for their safety throughout the day. Just as their pa had.
He sat up taller and squared his shoulders. He wasn’t their pa, but he could do this. “Let’s pray.” They all bowed their heads. Even Cassie. His throat tightened as he glanced at them. Maybe this was how fathers felt, though he wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling. Protectiveness, or responsibility or... He swallowed back a lump at the word that sprang to his mind. Joy. Joy at such a privilege. It was his first real taste of being part of a family and he rather liked it. Even as a portion of his brain reminded him of one of his rules. Don’t put down roots. You’ll only have them ripped out. It wasn’t a lesson he cared to repeat.
He ducked his head before anyone wondered what took him so long. “Dear God in heaven, who made the earth and everything in it, please watch over us today. Keep us safe. Help us be happy. Amen.”
Daisy got to her feet, shifted Pansy farther up her hip and gathered up the dishes with her free hand. “I’ll wash them.”
Neil headed for the water bucket. “I’ll fetch more water.”
Billy glanced about. “What should I do?”
“Get more firewood,” both older children said at once and the entire family set to work.
Roper fingered the Bible on his lap. He wanted to say something to Cassie about her losses. But he didn’t want to upset her. Seemed being reminded of two dead babies and a deceased husband just might do that. But he enjoyed sitting by her side and didn’t want her to leave. “Do all families do that?”
She jerked and seemed to gather herself up from some distant spot. “Do what?”
“Read the Bible and pray each morning. Is that what all families do?”
She turned then and considered him with such brown-eyed intensity he had to force himself not to squirm.
“I’m guessing they didn’t do so in the orphanage?”
“Nope. We stood for grace. Ate quietly and without complaint even when the food was thin gruel, then gathered our dishes and carried them to a big tub before we marched to our classrooms.”
“No Bible instruction?”
He chuckled at the idea of wasting time on such an activity. “On Sunday we were given religious instruction. When I was about ten there was a sweet old man who came in and told Bible stories and made it seem like fun. A lot of us became believers when he was there. But he only came a couple of years. The rest of the time we had stiff preachers who intoned a sermon for us.” He realized his voice imitated their mind-numbing monotone and he grunted. “Haven’t thought about it in a long time. I remember the sessions were so boring some of the little ones would fall asleep. If they were caught they’d be punished. I made sure they didn’t get caught.”
Her eyes sparked with curiosity and a warmth that sent satisfaction into his soul. He liked having her regard him with eyes like that.
“What did you do?”
“To keep them from getting caught? If we were allowed to sit where we wanted, I sat with the little ones and played finger games that didn’t attract any attention but kept the little ones watching.” He illustrated by having the fingers of one hand do a jig on the back of the other. “It was nothing special but they had to keep alert to see when I’d do something.”
“And if you couldn’t sit with them?”
“Then it was harder. But one of the things I did was send a tap down the line. Everyone would pass it on to the little ones.”
“Seems you felt responsible for the younger children.”
He considered the observation. “It wasn’t really responsibility. Not like Daisy. It was more like I wanted everyone to be happy.”
Her grin tipped the flesh at the corner of her eyes upward. “I think you haven’t changed a great deal.”
He tried to think how he felt about her evaluation. He decided it was true and he didn’t mind that she’d noticed something he did without thinking about it. “Back to my original question.” He tipped his head to indicate the circle where the children had sat. “Is it normal? You have a family. Is that what you did?”
Her eyes darkened. The smile fled from her face. What had he said to bring such distress to her face? Whatever it was, it had been unintentional.
But how could he undo it when he was at a loss to explain it?
* * *
The ground beneath Cassie’s feet seemed to tip as a thousand memories crowded her mind. “My father died when I was nine so I don’t recall much about being a whole family.” Except she suddenly did. “I remember sitting on my father’s knee as he read aloud. We were in a rocking chair. A lamp glowed nearby so it must have been evening. Mother was in the kitchen so it was just me and...” She stopped the words that had come from nowhere. Just her and those comforting, secure arms. “Just me and my father.” The memory ached through her. She concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply. She forced strength into her voice. “Seems I recall my father reading to me at night. He heard my prayers before Mother tucked me in and kissed me good night.”
“Didn’t you keep doing the same things after he was gone? I guess I would...both to honor him and preserve the memory.”
“Things changed after he died.” Her grandfather didn’t allow such extravagances. The child is big enough to put herself to bed. I’m not supporting you to spend time coddling her. She pushed to her feet. “I better get to work.” She went to join Daisy at the dishpan. “I’ll dry,” she said to the girl.
Roper strode away in the direction of Macpherson’s store. She wouldn’t watch him go. Nor voice any curiosity about why. But hadn’t he said he’d build her house? Shouldn’t he be doing so? He liked to make everyone happy, did he? She sensed it was more than that. Seems he had a need to make sure people were well taken care of. Well, she silently huffed, she had no need of his help. She’d learned to depend on no one. She had all she needed right here on this little bit of land. She glanced about at the piles of lumber, the neat little shelter Roper had erected. Yes, she’d accept his help in exchange for providing care for the children. But she’d never make the mistake of expecting it nor of counting on it.
Daisy persuaded Pansy to sit on a log at her side as she dried the dishes. “I want to thank you for allowing us to stay here and I promise we’ll do our best not to be any trouble.”
Children are nothing but trouble. The words reverberated through her head in her grandfather’s harsh voice. How could such a coldhearted man raise a son who turned out to be a loving father? Why had the better of the two died? Seemed bitterly unfair in her mind.
She hated that these children should feel the same condemning words hovering in the background and vowed she would not do or say anything to make them real. She dried her hands on the towel and turned to Daisy. With her still-damp hands, she clasped the girl’s shoulders and turned her so they were face-to-face. “I don’t consider you the least bit of trouble. In fact, it would be mighty lonely if I were here by myself.” Yet that was exactly what she intended once the children were gone. “Besides, isn’t it to my benefit? I get help to build my house.”
Daisy considered her steadily, then, satisfied with Cassie’s assurance, nodded. “Still. I wouldn’t want you to regret it.”
“I promise I won’t.” As she returned to her task a flash drew her attention to the side. Roper stood with two spades over his shoulder, so new and shiny the sun reflected off them. He stared as if he’d overheard the conversation. She favored him with a challenging glare, silently informing him not to read anything into her confession of loneliness. It was meant to reassure the children, not give him an argument to pursue.