Loe raamatut: «Montana Cowboy's Baby»

Chapter One

Bella Creek, Montana, summer 1890

Twenty-two-year-old Kate Baker walked out of the big house on the Marshall Five Ranch. She’d completed her errand and was intent on returning to her home, four miles away, in Bella Creek. She’d taken two steps toward her buggy when a wagon rolled up to the house.

A stranger got down, retrieved a basket like the one Kate used for laundry and handed it to her.

“For Conner Marshall.”

Before she could think to ask who he was or what he’d delivered, he jumped back to the seat, flicked the reins and drove away.

She turned to look in the basket and met the dull brown eyes of an infant. Not a single rational thought came to her mind. What was she to do with this baby?

Think, she ordered herself. Who would bring a baby to Conner? He wasn’t even married.

Grandfather Marshall was inside—she had delivered some new liniment for him from her father, the local doctor—but he was in no shape to take care of a baby.

Grandfather, as everyone called him, had said everyone else was away. Wait, hadn’t he said Conner had stayed on the ranch to keep an eye on things...meaning the older man?

She glanced around. Did she detect movement in the corrals by the barn? It could be one of the hired hands or Conner.

“Conner,” she yelled. “Conner Marshall.”

The movement turned into a body that vaulted the fence and raced toward her.

She watched Conner approach. The middle Marshall son was twenty-four years old. He was a big man. Blond as all the Marshalls were with piercing blue eyes. His dusty cowboy hat tipped back from his pace, allowing her a view of his strong, angular face.

He reached her side. “Is something wrong? Is it Grandfather?” He clattered across the wooden veranda toward the door.

“Not Grandfather.” Her words stopped him and he slowly turned. She pointed toward the basket that she had lowered to the ground. “Someone brought this for you.”

“Me? What is it?”

“You best look and see.”

He did so. “A baby? Why would anyone send me a baby?”

Exactly her question. They stared at the solemn infant.

“Look, there’s a note.” She pointed to the piece of paper tucked by the bedding.

He seemed incapable of moving, so she picked it up. “It has your name on it.”

He plucked it from her fingers, unfolded it and read it aloud. “‘Conner, this is Elspeth. She’s yours. Take care of her. Thelma.’”

Kate lowered her gaze, unable to look at the man. He had a baby? And obviously no wife, unless she had left him. “You’re married?” She kept her voice low, revealing nothing of the shock this news provided.

“No, of course I’m not.”

He’d fathered a baby out of wedlock? She’d known him since she and her father had moved to Bella Creek in the spring and would never have considered him the sort to act this way. It left her stunned to the point she couldn’t think how to respond.

Drawn by the sound of their voices, Grandfather came to the doorway.

“You should be resting,” Kate said in her kindest voice, knowing how much his legs must hurt. He’d been injured a couple of years ago and his legs had never healed properly.

“Can’t rest with all this commotion. What’s going on?”

“A baby.” Conner sounded as shocked as he looked. He handed the note to his grandfather, who read it and grunted.

Grandfather hobbled over to peer into the basket. “So you’ve fathered a baby?” The disapproval in the older man’s voice hung heavy in the air. “She’s awfully still.” He pulled the blanket covering the baby lower. “And thin as a stick.” He waved Kate forward. “I’ve seen how competent you are at helping your father. You’ll know what to do with this baby. Have a look at her, would you?”

Kate’s father was the local doctor. Her mother had been his assistant before her passing, and since then, Kate had assisted him. This was what Kate knew. She stared into the eyes of the little girl. Her heart stalled. Something about the look in those eyes begged for Kate’s help.

She drew in a deep breath. She touched the baby’s cheek, found it dry. Kate slipped off the tiny bonnet and ran her hand over Elspeth’s head. She guessed the baby to be about five or six months old. Conner would have a better idea of the age of his daughter.

“She’s badly dehydrated.” She refrained from giving her assessment that this child was also undernourished. Her throat constricted at the idea that the baby had been neglected. It was all she could do not to scoop the little one from the basket and promise to protect and care for her. Instead, she waited for Conner to take responsibility for his child. “She needs to be fed,” she added for good measure. Still no response. What must she do to get the man moving?

“You need to feed her,” she continued. A nursing bottle with a skin of sour milk lay beside the baby. She picked it up and held it toward him.

He lifted his gaze from studying the baby to stare at the bottle.

“Come, I’ll help you.” She made her way to the door. Grandfather hobbled after her, but Conner didn’t move.

She sighed. “Bring the baby.”

He jolted into action, gingerly lifting the basket and carrying it after her as she crossed through the large entryway into the big, homey kitchen. She cleaned the bottle and got cooled milk from the pantry. As she waited for the milk to warm, she watched Conner.

He scooped the baby from the basket, and although he appeared to be a little uncertain how to hold Elspeth, he smiled gently as he studied the little girl.

A warm feeling filled Kate’s heart at the tenderness in his eyes. She handed him the bottle and prepared to leave. Father would be expecting her home.

She didn’t like to leave him too long. He’d had a buggy accident a year ago and afterward he’d been unconscious for three days. It had taken a long time for him to be able to think clearly. He seemed to be well now. Still, she was reluctant to leave him, knowing fatigue and hunger brought on mental confusion.

She took a couple of steps toward the door but stopped. It was a scene she hated to leave...an opportunity to see the strong, noble Marshall men cope with a tiny baby. Her gaze returned to the baby sheltered in Conner’s arms. Her eyes stung.

She must make sure this little one was doing well before she left. It was her only reason for turning back to the room.

* * *

Conner held the baby in the palms of his hands. Should he lay her on his lap or in the crook of his arm? He settled for holding her against his chest. A protective feeling—so powerful and unfamiliar that his lungs forgot to work—filled his heart.

He stared into the eyes of the baby. Solemn, maybe even guarded, as if wondering whether or not she would be welcomed. Why would Thelma say the baby was his? He knew without a doubt it wasn’t because, despite Thelma’s teasing, they had never gone that far.

He hadn’t seen Thelma for over a year and a half...since she’d left town to join the traveling show. He’d met her a year prior to that when she moved to town to help her ailing aunt. He’d been moved by her dedication to helping the older woman. It hadn’t taken him long to fall in love with her. She said she felt the same overwhelming love for him.

When she’d announced her intention to leave town, he had reluctantly agreed to go with her and suggested they marry before doing so. But then she left, leaving him a note saying she could do better on her own. It had hurt to know she found him a hindrance. He’d been devastated and humiliated to have his sorrow witnessed publicly. He’d found solace in the bosom of his family and vowed to always put them first after that. He considered it his service to the Lord and prayed he would not be diverted by his emotions.

He didn’t plan to ever trust another woman with his heart. What did love mean if it was so easy to walk away from it?

The baby gave a thin cry.

“She needs to eat,” Kate repeated in a patient tone.

“Of course.” He could do this. He poked the rubber nipple between the little lips. The milk ran out the corners of the baby’s mouth and dribbled into the creases of her neck.

Grandfather made an explosive sound. “Conner, you don’t know the first thing about babies.”

“I’ve nursed an orphan calf. It can’t be all that different.”

With a muffled groan, Grandfather leaned back in his chair.

Conner looked at the infant in his arms. Her mother was missing. How long had she been alone? Somebody ought to care about her. He would. “Come on, baby, swallow your milk.” He again jiggled the bottle in her mouth.

The baby blinked and swallowed once, then turned her eyes away from him and stared. He followed the direction of her gaze and saw nothing.

Milk ran out her mouth.

He tried as hard as he could, but the baby wouldn’t swallow again.

He gave Kate a pleading look. “She won’t eat for me.”

Her eyes gentle, she took the baby from his arms and the bottle he handed to her. It was good to have her here...someone with medical know-how.

Kate smiled. “I’ll show you what to do and then you’ll be able to do it.” She eased the nipple into the tiny mouth. “Come on, little Ellie.”

Ellie. He liked that far better than Elspeth.

“You need to eat. That’s it, sweet girl.” Kate’s voice drew the baby’s eyes and she swallowed. Once. Twice and again. And then she stopped.

Kate crooned to her. “You can do this.”

The baby drank another swallow and then her eyes drifted closed.

“She’s done for now. She’ll be okay if she’s fed every hour or more often until she is taking a full feed. It’s going to be a time-consuming job for a few days.”

She handed the baby back to Conner. Her eyes were steady, her gaze intent. “She’s a Marshall. Your daughter.” Kate spoke calmly, encouragingly. “It’s up to you to give her what she needs, and at the moment that’s lots of love, frequent feedings, and it wouldn’t hurt to use gentle, kind words around her.” She gave a few instructions about feeding the baby and keeping her warm and comfortable. “Now I must return home in case my father needs me.”

Although the baby wasn’t actually a Marshall, there had to be a reason Thelma said she was. Perhaps the baby was in danger from some of the people in the traveling show. Or maybe Thelma had married and her husband was cruel. Until Conner knew the facts, he would give Ellie the protection of the Marshall name. That meant keeping the truth hidden. He pulled the baby tighter to his chest.

He watched Kate put on her bonnet and reach for the black bag she had brought in and panic clawed up his throat. “Wait. You can’t leave. There’s no one here but me and Grandfather. We need help.” He knew he sounded needy and it wasn’t like him, but being in charge of a weak little baby frightened him more than anything he could remember.

He glanced desperately at the door. Where was his family when he needed them? Everyone had gone about their business, that’s where. Pa and Conner’s two brothers were checking on the cattle and might be gone several days. His sister, Annie, went to visit her friend for a few days and didn’t say when she’d be back. Even his recently acquired sisters-in-law had disappeared to their own pursuits.

His gaze shifted to the window and the corrals visible beyond where the horses he had been breaking and training milled about. That was the kind of work he understood.

He brought his attention back to Kate. “You’re a nurse.”

“Doctor’s assistant,” she corrected in a distracted way.

“This is the kind of thing you understand. I don’t.”

“I’ll show you how to prepare her bottle. You know how to feed her now.”

“Okay.” He put the baby in her basket and listened to Kate’s instructions. It hardly seemed enough knowledge to care for a weak baby. “I can do this.” He would care for this child as if she was his. But he had to grit his teeth to keep from calling Kate back as she left the room. A few minutes later, a buggy rattled from the yard. It scared him to death to be responsible for such a tiny baby, but he’d never let anyone guess.

Grandfather studied him with steely eyes. “Did you know you had a baby?”

“She’s not mine! I can’t believe you think she is.”

“You’re sure?” Grandfather’s voice was full of doubt.

“As sure as I am that the sun will set tonight and rise again tomorrow.” He gazed at the baby, expecting her to be asleep, but she stared up at him. He touched her cheek and played with her hand, curling and uncurling her fingers. “I can’t believe Thelma called the little thing Elspeth.” Except it didn’t surprise him. Thelma had admired a singer of that name.

“Why would she say she’s yours? Why would she send her here?”

Indeed. He met Grandfather’s piercing gaze with his own steady one. “I can’t answer for her choices. But perhaps the baby is in danger.” He let that sit for a moment.

“What kind of danger?”

“Some of the people in her traveling troupe were a little...” He held up a hand to indicate uncertainty.

“What are you going to do with her?” Grandfather asked, his voice not unkind.

“Seems to me this little one needs a family to care for her and protect her. I’m willing to do that.”

Grandfather cleared his throat. “Every child deserves to be surrounded by love and care. I guess Thelma knew what she was doing when she sent her to you.”

“Except she likely didn’t think it would be just you and me caring for her.”

“Don’t worry, son. We’ll figure it out as we go. ’Sides, doesn’t it say in the Bible that God cares about even the little sparrows? She is of far more value than a hundred sparrows. We’ll trust God to help us.”

Conner nodded. “I think we’ll be keeping God busy for a few days.” But hadn’t he learned how sufficient God was in the painful days after Thelma had left? His family had gathered round him and helped him as much as they could and for that he owed them his faithfulness. They’d help him with the care of this little scrap of humanity as well. Just as soon as they got back. In the meantime, he and Grandfather were all she had.

How long would they need to provide for Ellie? What was going on with Thelma?

* * *

Kate had barely finished making a pot of coffee for her father the next morning when someone clattered into the waiting room and hollered, “Doc, are you there?”

She was used to the doctor being called away any time of the day or night, so she quickly filled a cup of coffee for her father. “Eat something while I go see what it is.” She’d delay the caller long enough to allow Father to have breakfast. A few minutes to eat leisurely would go a long way to preventing any problems with his memory.

She went into the waiting room. A man she recognized from the community stood before her.

“My mother fell getting out of bed this morning and is hurting. Could the doctor come and see her?” His mother was a frail elderly woman.

Father appeared behind her. “I’ll go immediately.” He reached for his black doctor’s bag.

“I’ll go with you.” Kate untied her apron and hung it on a hook.

She had barely finished speaking when one of the young cowboys she recognized from the Marshall ranch burst through the door.

The cowboy grabbed the hat off his head. “Miss Kate, Conner says would you please come immediately? The baby isn’t eating. He says she’s really weak.”

Kate’s hands clenched. She’d hoped and prayed for a better report. She wanted nothing more than to hurry to the baby’s side and will her to be strong, but her father was needed elsewhere. She had accompanied him on almost every call since their arrival. Often she had guided him through a task or reminded him of a medical fact as he struggled to regain full use of his memory. Lately, she’d needed to help less and less, but she wasn’t yet confident he was completely better. But she couldn’t be in two places.

Father saw her concern. “I’ll be okay on my own. You go take care of that baby, nurse it back to health and strength.”

She hesitated a moment longer before making up her mind. By the sound of it, the baby required medical care. Kate would give her that and more. She’d pour love into that little girl until she grew strong. Only for the sake of her health, of course. She knew better than to let her emotions get involved.

“Let me get a few things.” The supplies she needed were in the office, but she turned back to their living quarters and slipped into her bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, her face to her knees. She needed to be calm and collected. She needed wisdom to guide them through dealing with the weak baby.

Oh, God, You are my friend and my strength. The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

Her soul calmed and her courage renewed, she joined the cowboy and hurried toward the buggy.

As she settled herself on the bench, she glanced around. To her left was the newly constructed schoolhouse. To her right, the new barbershop. Past that were other new buildings taking shape, replacing those that had been destroyed in a fire a few months ago.

Bella Creek, Montana, was a town Grandfather Marshall had built to provide an alternative to the wild mining town of Wolf Hollow. He took the welfare of the town very seriously and was largely responsible, with the help of his sons and grandsons, for the rebuilding after the fire of last winter. The Marshalls had located a doctor and teacher as well, to replace the ones who left following the disaster.

She would miss the small town when she left. She’d already been accepted at a medical school in St. Louis, Missouri, but had delayed her entrance to care for Father.

They reached the ranch and the cowboy helped her down. Kate hurried through to the sitting room. One look at the baby, her eyes unfocused, her breathing shallow, and Kate’s mind kicked into a gallop.

“You should have sent for help earlier.”

“I kept thinking she would improve.” Conner scrubbed his hand over his hair, turning it into a blond tangle and bringing a fleeting smile to Kate’s mouth.

She lifted the baby, cradling her close. Normally a baby was warm. This one was not. “Did she drink any milk at all?”

“She wouldn’t swallow. Most of the time she won’t even meet my eyes. What’s wrong with her?”

Kate knew his frustration came from concern for the life of this little one. There was no point in her saying anything to allay his worries. If the baby didn’t begin to eat... She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought and instead closed her eyes and breathed a prayer. The baby needed fluids immediately. Did her body even have the strength to digest milk? There was an alternative.

“I’ll start her on sugar water.”

Wanting to preserve what body heat the little one had, she swaddled her in the soft, white blanket from the basket, then handed her to Conner. “Hold her close. She needs to be warm.”

Conner pressed the baby to his chest. Kate plucked the hand-knit blanket from the back of the brown couch and draped it over his arms, covering the baby until only her eyes showed—eyes that showed no interest in life. Kate met Conner’s gaze, saw her concern echoed. Something shifted inside her, knowing they were united in caring for this baby.

She jerked her gaze away. She must not cross the line between a patient and a doctor’s assistant. And that included the patient’s family. Don’t let your emotions get involved. You do what you can and leave the family to pull together.

She hurried to the kitchen to prepare the water mixture for the baby. A few minutes later, she had everything ready and returned to the sitting room.

Conner shifted to make room for her at his side on the couch.

She eased the tip of the syringe into the little mouth and squeezed out a drop, then massaged the thin neck. “Come on, Ellie, swallow.” A sigh escaped her when the baby did so. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She met Conner’s look, found there a sense of accord in shared concern for this wee bit of struggling humanity. It warmed her cheeks and heart to feel united with him in this.

Turning her attention back to the baby, she squeezed out another drop and then another. After a few swallows, little Ellie refused any more no matter how much Kate rubbed her face and neck and begged her to take more.

With no desire to drown the wee thing, Kate withdrew the syringe. “I’ll feed her every few minutes.”

Conner’s blue eyes filled with worry.

She patted his arm. “We aren’t solely responsible for the outcome here. God has a bigger part in healing than any mere man can play.” She needed the reminder for herself as much as for Conner. She was often frustrated by the limitations of medical science.

He nodded and she again felt as if they shared equal concern and responsibility for providing what this baby needed. He bent his head over his daughter and whispered her name.

She wondered if Conner watched the rise and fall of the tiny chest as desperately as she did.

In a bit, Ellie made a mewling sound.

“Hand me that whatever it’s called and I’ll see if Ellie will drink some more. I’m no doctor, but I know she needs something in her stomach if she’s to survive.”

Kate gave him the syringe of sugar water. He eased the tip between Ellie’s lips and squeezed out a shot.

Ellie choked. Her face grew red.

Conner’s face blanched. “What do I do?”

Rather than explain it to the distraught man, Kate took Ellie, turned her over and patted her back. She bent over the baby, watching her face. “Come on, little one, take a breath.”

The baby calmed.

Kate’s heart took slightly longer to return to a normal pace.

She turned Ellie about to look in her face. “You gave us quite a scare.” Solemn eyes focused on her for a brief moment before losing interest.

Conner let out a long sigh. “I almost killed her.” His voice shook. His gaze met hers. She couldn’t say if it was gratitude or caution she saw in his eyes or something else entirely. Nor could she explain why the look made her ache inside.

She struggled to adjust her thinking about this man. She’d always thought him noble and honorable. To learn he had fathered a child left her wondering what sort of man he really was.

She placed the baby back in his arms and looked at the syringe. “Just a little at a time.”

Conner studied her for a moment, then turned to the baby. “Swallow for me, little Ellie. Please don’t choke.”

Water dribbled from the baby’s mouth.

Conner watched the baby for a moment, then lifted his gaze to Kate’s. “I can’t do this by myself. Will you stay and help?”

How could she stay? Father needed her.

“Please?” Conner’s eyes filled with kindness and something she wasn’t able to identify. Was it determination or regret? Fear or warning?

She brought her attention back to the baby. She had to do what she could to ensure little Ellie lived. A baby’s life hung in the balance.

“I’ll stay until she’s doing better.” Father would have to get along without her for a few hours. After that? Conner would need to find someone to tend his baby, but he had lots of people to choose from—his sister and his sisters-in-law.

Conner smiled. “Thank you. This baby needs a family, but right now she needs more. She needs what you can give her.”

Family. The word caught at her heart. Why did it trouble her? She could think of no reason and dismissed the thought. It wasn’t like she longed for something more. Medical care was what she offered. It was the focus of her life.

She’d once thought things might be different. As an eager seventeen-year-old, she’d loved the attention given to her by Edward Sabin over a six-month period. Her eyes full of starry dreams, she’d told him of her plan to become a doctor. He’d said she would have to choose between him and her dreams because he didn’t intend to share her with every Tom, Dick and Harry, or even every Mary, Alice and Harriet.

She’d said it wasn’t that easy and told him of her promise to Grammie. Grammie, who had raised her since her birth parents died when Kate was four until her own death six years later, said she had the gift of healing and made her promise not to waste the gift. Besides, she liked taking care of people.

Edward had stopped calling, but he’d made her acknowledge the impossibility of trying to be both a doctor and a wife and mother. Her own childhood after the Bakers had adopted her provided further proof. How many times had her sleep been interrupted as she was taken next door so her parents could attend some medical need? How often had she missed a social event for the same reason? But in exchange, she’d learned much about caring for others.

Kate went to the kitchen. Grandfather sat outside on the veranda, rocking in the sun and watching the activities in the yard. She glimpsed one of the cowhands riding by the garden.

It was all so ordinary and peaceful. Unlike her own home, where every ordinary moment ended with a call for the doctor’s services, where there was often a flurry of activity as they faced a medical crisis. It was just her father and her now. Mother had died eight years ago when Kate was fourteen.