A Baby Between Them. Winnie Griggs

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      Chapter Four

      On Monday morning, Nora patted Grace’s back as she stared out the kitchen window at the gloomy weather. The rain had slacked off to a drizzle but it was still falling steadily. If it didn’t let up soon it would make for an unpleasant ride into town this morning.

       Not that she was one to let a bit of weather get in her way. There were four mouths to feed in this household, and, as her sisters had pointed out on Saturday, there was still lots of work to be done on the cottage itself before the cooler weather of autumn settled in. Work that required funds for supplies.

       And there were more immediate needs cropping up every day. She’d awakened this morning to the sound of water dripping from the ceiling onto her bedchamber floor. Two hand spans over and those drips would have landed right on Grace. That had been a sobering sight.

       But there was reason to be optimistic, as well. Just last night she’d had an idea for a way to bring in some extra money. She hadn’t worked out all the details in her mind yet, but that was another reason she was eager to get to town today despite the weather—she’d really like to get Sheriff Long’s opinion on this scheme of hers. After all, he had much more knowledge of Faith Glen and its people than she did.

       Grace hiccupped and Nora patted her back. Then she frowned as she came back to this morning’s weather. She didn’t mind getting wet herself, but it wouldn’t be right to take an infant out on such a day if it wasn’t truly necessary.

       But what other choice did she have?

       “Surely you’re not going to take that little lamb out in this rain.” Agnes Coulter crossed the room, a soft smile on her face.

       Nora shook her head. “I don’t really want to.” She glanced out the window once more. “Then again, perhaps if I wrap her really well…”

       Agnes tsked. “You have another choice. You can leave Grace with me and James.”

       Nora immediately thought of a half-dozen reasons why she couldn’t do that. The Coulters were elderly and frail. And they’d never had children of their own. Did they even know how to take care of an infant? And what about Grace’s favorite lullaby—could either of them sing it to her when she got fussy?

       She gave Agnes what she hoped was a convincing smile. “That’s very kind, but I wouldn’t want to impose on you that way. It’s not raining very hard. Perhaps it will let up—”

       “Don’t be silly. I know you’re as attached to that baby as a turtle is to its shell, but you can’t keep her by your side all day, every day. You both need a break from each other occasionally.”

       Both women turned as the back door opened and James limped in carrying a covered pail that no doubt contained fresh milk.

       Agnes immediately started back across the room, her finger wagging like a gossipmonger’s tongue. “James Barnabas Coulter, stop right there. Don’t you dare go tromping water and mud across my clean floor.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Set that pail down and take yourself back out on the stoop and make use of the bootjack and dry off with that feed sack before you come back in.”

       “No need to yell at me, woman,” James grumbled. “I was just trying to get the milk inside before Grace started wailing for her breakfast.” But despite his aggrieved tone, James did as he was told.

       Nora lay Grace down in the blanket-lined cradle and hurried over to retrieve the pail before Agnes tried to carry it herself. The older woman nodded her thanks and moved back toward the table, while Nora moved to the counter to strain the milk through a cheesecloth.

       “This kind of weather is hard on his hip,” Agnes said as the door closed behind her husband. “He doesn’t like me to make a fuss over him, though.”

       Nora could hear the affection in the older woman’s voice. The couple had been married for over fifty years she’d learned. Would she ever find that kind of love for herself?

       An image of the sheriff, with his smoky blue eyes and straw-colored hair, floated through her mind at that thought. Realizing where her mind had drifted, Nora pulled herself up short, reminding herself of what she’d resolved just two days ago. There would be none of that. Better to remember that the man was not only her employer but more often than not she found herself at odds with him.

       She watched Agnes’s expression soften as Grace latched on to one of the woman’s gnarled fingers, and Nora wrestled with the idea of leaving Grace in her and James’s care. She’d barely been separated from Grace for more than a few hours since she’d first laid eyes on the squalling babe aboard the Annie McGee. The few time that they had been separated, Grace had been with one of her sisters. The Coulters, for all their kindness and good intentions, seemed hardly up to the job of caring for a baby. And she didn’t want to put them to the test when she wasn’t at least nearby to observe.

       Nora set the bowl of milk aside and moved back toward the table. She resisted the urge to pick Grace up, instead letting Agnes continue to play with the child.

       “See, Grace and I will get along just fine.” Agnes smiled up at Nora, and then, as if she read something in Nora’s face, her own expression changed to resignation. She reached over and patted Nora’s hand. “It’s okay, Nora girl. I understand.”

       Rather than making Nora feel better, Agnes’s words shifted Nora’s perception of the elderly couple. Yes, the Coulters still wore the frailness of their advanced years, but both Agnes and James had come a long way since she’d first met them. They moved with new purpose now, and the pinched, resigned looks they’d worn when she’d first met them were gone.

       Besides, Grace was very little trouble and was still of an age where she stayed wherever she was placed. It wasn’t as if they would have to chase after her.

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