Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6) (14 page)

I won’t jinx Reverend Joshua and Delia’s marriage.
“I’ll wear the white shirtwaist and one of the skirts. No crows for this ceremony.”

Edith took off the shawl, folded it, and walked back to set it on the bed next to Maggie. She leaned forward to stare into Maggie’s face. “You have gold flecks in your eyes, so perhaps gold would be another color that would suit you.”

A knock on the door heralded Caleb carrying Charlotte.

At the sight of him with her daughter, Maggie’s heart gave a traitorous thump. “How was she?”

“Perfect.” He raised an eyebrow, taking in everything spread over the bed. “Well?”

Edith moved to him. “Not a bad selection, brother, given the limited choices at the mercantile.” She held out her arms. “May I please hold Charlotte?”

He glanced at Maggie for permission. At her nod, he gave Edith the baby and moved closer to the bed. “Do you like everything? What’s your favorite?”

Maggie patted the red shawl.

“I guessed that right.” Caleb preened, in obvious jest. He leaned over his sister’s arm as if to see if Charlotte agreed with him.

Maggie shook her head at his silliness, but warmth bubbled inside her. They felt suspiciously like a family. Even as her heart longed for that in truth, her mind told her to stop with the fanciful thoughts.
The likes of me are not for the Livingstons.

Soon you’ll be leaving. Don’t get attached.

She glanced at Caleb, who was touching her daughter’s cheek, and amended her self-counsel.
Don’t become more attached than you already are.

CHAPTER TEN

D
ressed in his nightshirt, Caleb stood before Maggie’s bedroom door, feeling the chill of the night on his legs. She’d bade him close her door before she went to sleep, not wanting Charlotte to wake anyone when the baby cried during the night. But he was uneasy with the idea of her managing the baby by herself, or trying to walk if she needed to use the toilet. So he’d waited until he thought everyone in the house must be asleep and then crept down the hall like a thief in the night to scratch at her door. When he heard no sound, he silently opened it.

Maggie had wanted the curtains left open so the faint moonlight of the half moon would illuminate the room enough for her to see the baby. The dim light only showed him her form on the bed, curled on her uninjured side.

Satisfied that she slept, Caleb returned to his bedroom, determined to rest lightly so he could come to her aid if need be. He climbed onto the bed and scooted under the covers. The sheets were cool, but he was too lazy to crawl back out and load the bed warmer with some coals from the fireplace.

He fluffed up the goose down pillows, thinking he should feel grateful for their softness and the comfort of his mattress after two nights of sleeping in the cabin and one on the ground. So, too, should he have let himself sink into the crisp linen of his bedding, still smelling of the outdoors from drying on the line, because the clean sheets and the softness of his mattress were a luxury he usually didn’t appreciate. But he found he missed Maggie’s presence—the intimacy of lying only a few feet away—where he could open his eyes and see her and Charlotte in the firelight.

For all the luxury at his fingertips, Caleb wished he was back at the wayfarer’s cabin with Maggie and the baby.
We were a team pulling together for Charlotte’s sake.
Now he was aware of feeling alone, of Maggie also being on her own with the baby. Caleb was helpless to care for them as he felt he should.

The feeling didn’t sit right with him. No, it felt downright wrong.
But there’s nothing I can do about it.

He dozed, only to startle awake at the sound of a cry. Caleb scrambled out of bed and was halfway across the room when he realized it wasn’t the baby he was hearing.

“No!” Maggie’s voice was thready, vibrating with fear.

A nightmare.
He cursed the accident; he cursed the brute who’d abused her.

Caleb dashed from his room and down the hall to hers and went inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

She thrashed from her side to her back, one hand flinging out.

“Maggie,” he said softly. “You’re having a nightmare.” Obeying an inner nudge, he moved to the other side of the bed and crawled next to her on top of the cover. He captured her flailing hand before she hit him, and then slid close to her body. “Maggie, wake up.”

She raised her head off the pillow. “Caleb?” Her voice was thick as if she’d been screaming in her nightmare.

“Yes, it’s me.” He took her in his arms, sliding one hand under her shoulders and gathering her close. “Everything’s all right. You’re safe.”

“Safe,” Maggie repeated. Shivering, she burrowed her face into his chest.

“Hey, that’s your bad side.”

“I don’t care.” Her voice was muffled.

Caleb smiled at the petulance in her tone. “Here, let’s shift you to your other side. I’ll be right here.” He put gentle pressure on her other shoulder to coax her to turn.

“Wait, I want to see my baby.” She sat up and leaned over the side of the bed, peering closely into the cradle. She placed a hand on Charlotte’s chest. “She’s breathing.”

Maggie tucked the blanket tighter around the baby and then lowered herself back to the bed. She followed his silent command, letting out a small groan of pain when she moved.

Caleb spooned her close to him.

Maggie gave a little sigh and relaxed in his arms. “We shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels so good.”

“Sleep, Maggie. You need your rest. I will keep guard.”

Gradually, her breathing evened out.

Only when she slept deeply did Caleb extract his arm from under her, rise, and pull out a wool blanket from a drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe. He moved back to the bed, covering himself with the blanket and curling around her, breathing in her scent—Edith’s soap combined with Maggie’s skin, making a fragrance that was all her own.
I’ll keep the gargoyles away for a bit and then leave her sweetly sleeping.

A few hours later, the baby cried.

Caleb jolted awake, realizing he was still on top of the bed with Maggie. “I’ll get her,” he murmured. He pulled his arm out from under Maggie, climbed out of bed, and went around the side to take Charlotte from the cradle. When he slid his hand underneath her bottom, he felt wetness. “Her soakers are damp. Change or feed first?”

“I’ll change her quickly.” Maggie sat up, grabbed some of the new diapers from the nightstand, and spread one on the bed to protect the covering. She took Charlotte from him and laid her down, quickly stripping off the sodden soaker and diaper.

He extended a hand for them.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him the wet ones. He dropped them in a pail on the other side of the nightstand.

A few days ago, I never would have imagined accepting a wet diaper with equanimity.
Caleb had to smile at the irony. He reached for the small bottle of oil on the nightstand and handed it to her. “We’ll have to replenish this in the morning.”

Maggie dabbed oil on the baby’s skin, pinned on the clean diaper, and tugged a new pair of soakers over the top. “There you go, precious girl. All clean.” She pulled up her nightgown, tossing the bottom over one shoulder to bare her chest, and brought the baby to her breast.

Charlotte latched on and suckled greedily.

“Little piggy,” Maggie said with an indulgent smile. She looked up at Caleb. “You must be tired. Go back to bed.”

Caleb became aware of the cold air in the room. “I really want to climb back on the bed with you.”

“It’s not proper, Caleb, not when we are all safe.”

“I know.” Yet, he lingered.

“You need your sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

Soon you’ll be able to walk and not need me.
The thought should make him glad, but it didn’t. “I’ll see Charlotte back to sleep and give you assistance to the bathroom. After that, I’ll head back to my bedroom.”

Once Charlotte slept, he carried Maggie to the bathroom to use the toilet. He returned her to the bed, then took her hand. “Go to sleep. If you need me, just call.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing his hand, her eyes already closing.

He waited until her breathing deepened and her grip loosened. For a moment, he felt bereft. Then he tucked her arm under the covers and tiptoed from the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Caleb settled under the covers in his own bed, wishing for the warmth of Maggie’s presence, although a little guilty to feel grateful that he wouldn’t be woken up by Charlotte’s next feeding.
How do men who live in small cabins with several babies of stair-stepping age manage? They must barely sleep.

Maybe they take naps in the barn.

Some shiftless fathers probably did just that. But most hardworking men that he knew would have plodded on about their work—for only through their labors were their families fed, clothed, and housed.
A heavy burden for an exhausted man.

Maggie and Charlotte have certainly opened my eyes.
As he pulled the covers tighter, Caleb sensed he’d still had plenty more to learn.

The next morning, Maggie sat in bed, her back propped up against two pillows, Charlotte sleeping in the cradle next to her. She wore her new dressing gown and had, in spite of her stiffness, managed to raise her arms to comb her hair and braid it into a long plait.

Although her bruises had turned spectacular shades of purple, blue, and green, she felt better than yesterday. Even though Charlotte had woken her up, she’d been so oddly soothed by Caleb’s presence next to her in the bed that she’d slept more deeply, feeling secure—something she’d been missing since her marriage, when she had to share a bed with a man who terrified her.

And now he sleeps for eternity in a cold, lonely grave.
Maggie shuddered at her own morbidity, thinking again how Oswald had paid the price for his temper. If he hadn’t fought with Michael Morgan, and then been driving so fast out of ill humor, he wouldn’t have caused the accident that killed him. She made a pushing motion with her hand, as if thrusting Oswald from her thoughts. Once again, she checked on Charlotte.

Her daughter slept like a sweet angel.

Maggie leaned back against the pillows and drummed her fingers on the featherbed. The house was silent with Ben at school, Caleb at the bank or hotel, Edith out making calls, and Mrs. Graves in the kitchen.

While Maggie knew her body needed the rest, now that she’d eaten breakfast, she had nothing left to do until Charlotte woke up. She wasn’t used to being idle, and boredom was quickly overcoming her.

Maybe the next time I see Edith or Mrs. Graves, I can ask for a book.
The thought perked her up. She’d been a good student and loved to read—something she’d sorely missed in the last year.

Maggie had owned some books of her grandparents, as well as her schoolbooks. But after a wintertime argument with Oswald about the need for him to chop some firewood because they were almost out of fuel, he’d taken the books and tossed them into the stove before stomping out of the
vardo
.

They’d blazed so quickly, she hadn’t had a chance to rescue them. With tears in her eyes, she’d watched her precious books burn, knowing she’d probably never own such treasures again. There wasn’t money to spare for fripperies, and even if she pinched pennies until she’d dented the metal, Maggie had known she couldn’t trust that Oswald wouldn’t destroy any other books she acquired. Even more than the beatings, the burning of her books had come close to breaking her spirit. Only the discovery of her pregnancy had given her a lifeline to hold on to while she navigated the treacherous waters of her marriage and planned her escape.

Now I’m alone like I wanted but without the vardo—the critical element to our survival.

A knock on the frame of the bedroom door made her look up to see Caleb smiling at her.

“Good morning, Magdalena Petra.” He was dressed in a black suit, with a gray-and-black waistcoat. In his hand he held a small vase of purple crocuses. “Look what’s blooming in the backyard.”

She caught her breath at how handsome he was and couldn’t stutter out words of gratitude and greeting.

“May I come in?”

Maggie nodded.

Caleb strode to the bed and handed her the vase. “Since you can’t go outside yet, I brought some of the outside to you.”

She touched a petal still damp from the rain. “Crocuses always make me happy. Such brave flowers, blooming when others yet sleep and bringing the promise of spring after a cold winter.”

He peeked into the cradle. “And how is our girl today? Look at her sleeping so peacefully. You’d never know what a lusty yell she’s developed.”

“Oh, I’ve heard louder from other babies, so I’m sure that’s what’s in store for me.” Maggie looked askance at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“And what makes you think I’m not? I happen to be paying a call on a future patron of the bank.”

Maggie laughed. “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

“Actually, I was heading to the hotel and thought I’d stop in and see how you and the baby were doing. I knew Edith would be gone, and I was afraid you’d have needs, and no one would be near to help.”

Maggie felt her cheeks heat. She’d made do with the chamber pot under the bed, instead of using the bathroom, and Mrs. Graves had brought the basin for her to wash up with. “All is well here.”

He bent over the cradle. “I was hoping she’d be awake, and we could have a conversation.”

Maggie laughed, remembering how earlier she’d hopped to the window to look out at the rainy day. Charlotte had demanded attention, but Maggie had taken far longer to hop back than if she could have walked. Her daughter had gotten quite upset at her slow response. “Some of her conversations are conducted at a considerable noise level, as I’m sure you’ll soon hear for yourself.”

“Well, I’d best be getting on. Is there anything you need before I go?”

“How are my horses?”

“Jed informs me that they are cared for. Pete’s leg shows improvement, and he should be completely back to normal in another day or two.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Good to hear.”

His smile crinkled the lines around his eyes.

She bit her lip. “I’m going to have to sell my horses. Without the
vardo
, I can’t afford to keep them. Do you know anyone I could approach?”

The smile fell away from his face. “I’ll make enquiries.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“I’d love to borrow a book.”

“We have plenty. Do you know what you’d like to read?” Caleb sent her a teasing, even flirtatious, grin.