Part 5 (1/2)
”I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help.'” Caleb quoted the psalm, realizing with a mystical sense of grat.i.tude that the Lord had, indeed, answered his frantic prayers for the safety of mother and child. ”Thank you,” he said to the heavens. He usually confined his praying to church services, but now he could understand why the ancient prophets and Jesus had traveled into the wilderness to commune with G.o.d. There is something about the vast celestial beauty that seems to reflect the presence of the Divine.
He glanced down at Charlotte. ”If David had lived in Montana instead of Israel, he would have written, I will lift up mine eyes to the skies.”
The baby moved her head to the side, and her mouth fastened on his wrist, as if searching for a nipple. ”You must be getting hungry, little one.”
Although reluctant to leave the peacefulness of this spot, the last thing Caleb wanted was for a hungry baby to start squalling and wake up Maggie, who'd probably be frantic when she couldn't see her child nor move to find them. She'd probably never again trust him with the baby. ”We'd best be getting you back to your mama,” he told Charlotte. ”We have quite a day ahead of us. You're about to experience your first drive.”
Caleb climbed out of the surrey and walked back the way he'd come, glad to see Maggie still sleeping.
She lay curled on her side, one hand tucked under her chin.
He hated to wake her, but with Charlotte starting to squirm, he didn't have much choice. The baby needed her mama. Best give Maggie a gentle nudge instead of being startled awake by Charlotte crying.
Caleb crouched next to her, the baby in his arms. He called her name softly to pull Maggie out of her exhausted slumber.
She blinked open sleepy eyes that took several seconds to focus. ”Oh! I was having a nightmare.” She tried to sit up and stopped, wincing.
He held a hand to stop her. ”Just lay back. I'll give you Charlotte so you can nurse her. While you do so, I'll see to the horses and make breakfast.” He grimaced. ”We finished the last of the bread and cheese last night. I'll see whatever cans are in my emergency supplies.”
”I have cornmeal. You can boil it for mush. Just stir it well to avoid the lumps. There's some mola.s.ses left for a sweetener.”
His frown deepened.
Maggie chuckled. ”Not used to cornmeal mush for breakfast, eh?” She took her daughter from him. ”Good morning, sweetness.” She rained gentle kisses over the baby's face, before moving to hitch up her nightgown.
Caleb turned and headed toward the horses. First he stopped to check on the injured gelding, Maggie had called Pete. When he ran his palm down the animal's leg, he could still feel some heat and swelling, but not nearly as bad as yesterday. That liniment must be very effective. He wondered if it would work for people. If so, Maggie could use the ointment on herself.
An image of rubbing the liniment on her body flashed in his mind, making him uncomfortable with his s.e.xual thoughts. After last night, he'd been as intimate with her as a man could be with a woman without having physical relations. Do I still have that role with Maggie-doctor/midwife? Do I continue to help her in ways that are improper but necessary for her comfort?
As he went about the business of taking care of the horses, watering them and dispensing the last of the grain, and then fixed breakfast, Caleb pondered the puzzle of his relations.h.i.+p with Maggie Baxter. While he doubted even the severest critics would impugn her reputation for being alone with him-not given all that had happened-he wondered if he now was responsible for her and Charlotte in the eyes of society. His heart stuttered at the thought, and he wasn't sure if the reaction was from fear or excitement.
He'd wanted a wife. Had the accident been G.o.d's way of giving me one-and a daughter, as well? Goose b.u.mps s.h.i.+vered down his arms. Maggie certainly didn't fit the characteristics he'd wanted in a wife. For heaven's sake, a woman who appeared to have a Gypsy heritage? How can I even consider marrying her?
But Caleb knew he liked Maggie and admired her courage. They now shared a bond. Is that enough for a marriage, especially considering our differences? Would I come to regret marrying her?
With a wooden spoon, he stirred the cornmeal mush in the pot, as if shaking the thoughts out of his head. Now's not the time to figure out my obligations to Maggie Baxter.
Wis.h.i.+ng he had more appetizing food than cornmeal mush and jerky, he brought a bowl over to Maggie where she sat with her back to the tree, a pillow cus.h.i.+oning her spine, holding the sleeping baby. He crouched at her level and held out the bowl. ”Trade you food for a small girl child.”
She eyed the bowl. ”I think you'll have to raise the stakes.”
”I'll give you a voucher, valid tomorrow. I'll even throw in dessert.”
”Apple pie?” Maggie's eyes lit up. She playfully licked her lips, going along with their joking.
That flick of her tongue made Caleb notice how kissable her wide mouth was. Don't even think such thoughts. A new widow, a new mother. . . . He set the bowl on the ground and took Charlotte from her. ”Eat,” he ordered, perhaps more sternly than necessary. ”You need to keep up your strength.”
She wrinkled her nose. ”As you command.” She picked up the bowl.
”I do.” Caleb settled into a cross-legged sitting position with the baby on his lap. He extended a finger to Charlotte, who grabbed it. ”I wish I had more to offer you. My housekeeper only packed enough food for the journey to Morgan's Crossing.”
Maggie gave him a rueful smile. ”Oswald quarreled with Michael Morgan, who fired him and ordered us to leave town. Oswald refused to allow me to shop for supplies before we left, even though Mr. Morgan had given him his final wages. ”Well,” she said, shrugging, ”at least he didn't have time to drink them away at the saloon.”
Caleb frowned. The more he heard about Oswald Baxter, the less he regretted the man's death. ”That reminds me. I emptied your husband's pockets before I buried him. I have his handkerchief, watch, and money.”
Her eyes shot wide in a look of horror. ”I didn't even think of that. By the time I remembered, it would have been too late.”
”Stop, Maggie,” Caleb chided. ”That didn't happen. There's no need to be so hard on yourself, especially given all you've been through.” He jiggled the baby a bit, making a funny face at her. ”Right, Charlotte?” he said in a fatuous tone. ”You agree with me? Your mother should rest easy.”
Her expression eased. ”I guess you're right. I do have an active imagination.”
He gestured for her to continue eating. ”As much as I wish we could reach Sweet.w.a.ter Springs today, neither you nor your gelding can travel that distance. But I don't want us camping in the open, either. There's a small way station about an hour from here, longer, of course, at the snail's pace we'll need to travel. But we'll be safe indoors and can sleep in peace. The extra day will give you and your horse more time to heal.”
Maggie glanced at the caravan, her expression showing an obvious sense of reluctance. ”My grandparents built that vardo when they came to America. We had more family back then. My great-uncle also built one-a more traditional vardo, a light blue color. The two families traveled together for many years.” She paused, seeming lost in memories of the past.
”Where did your family come from?”
Maggie opened her mouth to tell him, then stopped.
He glanced at the vardo. ”Do you think to surprise me? It's obvious there's Gypsy blood in you somewhere. I'd heard of Gypsies living in America in the East and in the South, but not in Montana.”
”My mother fell in love with a gajo-an outsider, which is rare and forbidden. Mama quarreled with her family and ended up running away and marrying my father. Her parents were tinkers and traveled around a circuit of towns. My father died when I was seven, and Mama and I returned to her family. My great-uncle had never forgiven her for marrying a gajo, but Mama was an only child, so my grandparents took her back. There was a great quarrel over that decision, and the families split, each choosing separate directions. My great-uncle's family headed toward Texas, and we lost touch.”
”What about your father's parents? I'm surprised they allowed you to go with your mother's family at all.”
”Papa, too, was an only child. After he died, Opa and Oma insisted we live with them, so I could continue going to school-another thing that displeased my great-uncle. Gypsies are not keen on education,” she said with a wry smile. ”Mama and I didn't want to live with them, but she knew they could have forced the situation and taken me away. No one would have faulted my grandparents for keeping me away from the dirty Gypsies.” Maggie's voice turned bitter.
He could see her point.
”But in the end, everyone compromised. Mama and I lived with Opa and Oma, who fussed over me. As much as I loved them and enjoyed school, when summer came, I'd wait anxiously for my other grandparents to arrive, which they usually did within a day or two. Then we'd be off traveling. I loved the freedom and seeing new places. The summers always sped by too fast.”
”Sounds like an adventurous childhood. Not unlike my own between Boston and the West.”
”I wouldn't trade it. Yet. . . .”
”What?”
”I don't fit in,” she confessed. ”I'm neither fish nor fowl. Not completely Gypsy, yet not the same as my father's family.”
Maggie's Gypsy blood should bother him. If fact, if he'd met her under other circ.u.mstances, he'd have given her short shrift. But the emotion behind her words resonated with him. Caleb knew what it was like to be neither fish nor fowl-too much of an uncouth Westerner to fit in with the Boston bluebloods and too aristocratic for Sweet.w.a.ter Springs.
”I don't want to leave the vardo behind, Caleb.”
The wistfulness in her tone made him resolve to find a way to save her home. I'll send Phineas O'Reilly back for her caravan. He's a good carpenter and can maybe fix it up enough to travel. But I don't want to give her false hope. ”I'm sorry, Maggie. There's no way we can salvage it today.”
She looked down and nodded, and then took a bite, her gaze on her food.