Название: Baby On Her Doorstep
Автор: Rhonda Gibson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
isbn: 9781474084406
isbn:
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Laura tucked the children into their beds. It had been a fun afternoon with the girls. They’d giggled and splashed in the water while Clint worked on the fence. She’d watched him and wondered why he’d suddenly gone from chatty to quiet. It didn’t matter. For a few moments she’d allowed herself to become too friendly with her boss. Thanks to his response to her being from Kansas—at least that’s what she figured had turned him into a quiet cattleman—she’d come to her senses and become the nanny she was supposed to be and focused on the girls.
Still, she couldn’t help but think of Clint’s change in behavior. He’d gone from teasing and laughing to quiet, almost somber. Laura shook her head. If she went to bed thinking like this she’d never get any sleep. She walked to the kitchen to make a warm glass of milk. Warm milk always helped her to sleep better.
Clint was still out in the barn. He hadn’t come in for dinner. Mrs. Murphy had sent plates out to the barn for him and Richard. They had a cow out there that seemed to be having difficulty birthing her calf. Laura made a mental note to check on Grace again before heading to bed.
Camelia sat at the kitchen table sorting brown beans. She looked up when Laura entered. “Can’t sleep?”
Laura smiled. “I haven’t tried, yet. Thought I’d have a little warm milk before bed.”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t mind having a mug of warm milk, too. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Laura pulled out a pot to heat the milk.
“Any word on how Bessy is doing?”
“Bessy?” Camelia frowned.
“The cow.” Laura poured the milk into the pan and looked over her shoulder at the older woman with a grin.
“You named the cow?”
Laura shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
The other woman chuckled. “Bessy—” she paused in her bean sorting “—is still laboring away.”
Stirring the milk with a wooden spoon, Laura sympathized with the cow. “Poor thing.”
“Having three children myself, I feel her pain.” Camelia slid the remaining beans into her pot and stood.
“You have three children?”
Camelia laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. I had a life before we moved here, ya know.”
“I suppose you did.” Laura didn’t want the milk to stick and so continued to stir.
“We both did.” She washed the beans. “I know we didn’t get off to a good start. How about we share how we both ended up here?” Her hand sloshed the beans and water about.
Laura poured the warm milk into two mugs. “My story is rather boring.” Did she want to tell the Irishwoman of her past? Would the older woman think less of her?
“Mayhaps, but from where I come from, storytelling, whether good or bad, is always interesting. Of course, if it is painful or you wish to keep your privacy, that is all right, too.”
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