The bedroom was small but clean, the bed covered with a handmade quilt, and two fat pillows were propped at the headboard. “This is lovely,” Marianne said, pulling back the quilt to place Joshua in the middle of the big bed.
“I wish I had a cradle to offer you for him, but the one I made for our son was given away after he and his mother died. I couldn’t stand to keep it in the house, and a lady outside town was having her first child and they couldn’t afford a bed for the baby. It seemed the right thing to do, so I offered the one I’d made. They put it to good use.”
Marianne’s heart ached for the loss he’d suffered and her tender heart went out to him, wishing she might have the words to offer that would give surcease to his pain.
“I’m sure your wife would have wanted someone else to use the cradle, David. I think she’d be happy to know that another child slept in it.”
“Thank you,” he said, avoiding her gaze, as if he hid a trace of tears in his eyes and did not want to share his grief.
Marianne propped pillows around Joshua, making sure that he was well padded so that should he wet his diaper it would not dampen the bedding. Then she went back to the kitchen and found a dishcloth, preparing to clean up the kitchen. It was a small matter, washing and drying the few dishes they’d used, cleaning out the pan he’d warmed the food in and then hanging the dish towel and cloth to dry on a small line he’d strung behind the stove.
She wiped the table clean, swept the floor and lowered the lamp a bit, to save the kerosene for another day. David sat at the table, paper and pen before him, bent over a letter he had begun.
“I’ll go on to bed now,” Marianne told him, walking to the bedroom doorway, then turning back to face him.
He looked up from his writing, his eyes distracted by her words, then he smiled. “I’m just writing a letter to my folks, back home in Ohio. I’m telling them about you and Joshua and the way you left him in the manger for me to find. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Will they think badly of me for abandoning my brother that way?”
He shook his head. “They’ll understand that you were desperate, that you had no resources to care for him by yourself. It was a smart move for you to make, actually. You just didn’t imagine that I would be the one to find him and take him indoors, did you?”
Marianne flushed uncomfortably, for she had indeed thought just such a thing might happen and her words verified that fact. “I thought perhaps a minister and his wife would care for a foundling like Joshua. I had no idea you were alone here in the parsonage.”
David smiled, his thoughts hidden from Marianne. “I think perhaps things worked out the way they were supposed to, anyway. I needed Joshua as much as he needed someone to care for him.”
“I’d have spent my whole life tending him if I could, Mr. McDermott.”
“I thought we’d gotten past the Mr. McDermott thing,” David said quietly. “I liked it much better when you called me by my given name. I felt we were becoming friends, Marianne.”
Bravely Marianne spoke her thoughts aloud. “I’d like to keep house for you, David, if the offer is still open. I’ll see if Janet will let me sleep at the store, and then I can come here during the day to cook and clean for you. In exchange, perhaps you would consider giving Joshua a home until I can provide for him.”
“I’ll want to talk to the men on my church board before I make a commitment to you, Marianne. I can’t do anything that would reflect badly on my position here, and I don’t want any hint of gossip to touch you or Joshua.”
“Can you do that? Talk to the men who run the church with you? Do you think they’ll object to such a plan?”
“They’ve known for quite a while that I need help in my home and surely it is an obvious solution to my problem and yours, too. I’ll speak to them after the Wednesday-night meeting.”
“And for tonight you think I should stay here in your spare room?”
He nodded agreeably. “I don’t see that we have any choice. Tomorrow is Christmas and the town will be closed up tighter than a drum, with folks celebrating with their families and such. Why don’t you plan on cooking dinner for me and getting Joshua settled in here? You can walk over and talk to Janet in the morning and sound her out about you staying at the store nights.”
Marianne considered the plan, not willing to put David to shame in any way, but the hour was late and the lights were out in the houses around them. It was beyond time for folks to be in bed and she accepted that her fate for this day was out of her hands.
“All right. We’ll do as you say, David. I’ll go on to bed now and be up early with the baby, then it will be time enough to cook your breakfast and take a walk to see Janet.”
He watched as she went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and his heart was full as he considered the day to come. He’d been beyond lonely without the companionship he’d come to enjoy with a wife. His years with Laura had been few, but his months without her had seemed an eternity, so quiet had been the house, so empty his heart.
For a moment he thought of another plan that might work, and decided to seek out Marianne’s thoughts in the morning. Should she be agreeable, they might be married and share the parsonage together, thus satisfying any gossip that might arise in town concerning her presence here. She was a lovely girl, with pleasing ways about her, and he didn’t doubt that she would be more than capable of running his home as his wife.
Whether or not Joshua was her own child or her brother, as she claimed, he was willing to accept her as she was, without any guarantees, and he might find an end to the long days and nights he’d spent alone.
He went to his bedroom and closed the door, aware that even through that stout panel he would hear should Joshua awaken during the night.
Chapter Three
The rooster in his neighbor’s chicken coop sounded his usual early-morning call, and David pulled the quilt up over his head, unwilling to leave the warmth of the dream he had enjoyed for the past few minutes. A dark-haired girl, her form slender yet pleasingly curved, had been featured throughout the night hours, and his sleep had been broken, his eyes opening suddenly several times as he awoke from nocturnal thoughts that were far from dignified.
He sat up suddenly, recalling the heated dreams he’d indulged in, and his heart stuttered within him as he considered the woman in the next room. Even as he thought of her, he heard the movement beyond his bedroom wall as she arose, heard the small, soft sounds of a baby’s cry as Joshua awoke, announcing his hunger aloud.
His trousers were on the bedpost and David slid into them quickly, made haste to don his shoes and stockings, tucked his shirt into his pants hurriedly and went to the kitchen.
He found Marianne there before him, intent on heating milk for Joshua’s breakfast. She’d put on a small pan, warming an amount of milk from his pantry that would be sufficient to fill the baby bottle she was washing in the sink. He watched her from the doorway, noting her quick movements, the soft curves of her arms as she worked the pump handle, the sway of her hips as she turned back to the stove to rescue the milk, lest it be too hot for the baby.
“Good morning,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. Her head turned quickly to where he stood and a rosy flush covered her cheeks, as if she had been trying to be quiet and had still disturbed his sleep.
“I tried not to wake you,” she said, and he smiled, aware that he had read her aright.
“That’s all right. It was time for me to be up and about anyway. The rooster always sounds his alarm at dawn, and I find it a good time to begin my day.”
She poured the warmed milk into the bottle, careful not to spill any on the stove, and he watched her graceful movements, his breath coming quickly as he bent his appreciative