Page 505 of Conveniently Wed
He reined in at the front gate, then jumped down, tying the reins to the hitching rail outside the fence. Rusty came down the steps from the porch and met him by the gate.
“I stayed close, Boss, in case the women needed me.”
“You’re a good man.” Franklin clapped him on the shoulder. “Everything go all right?”
“Think so. Haven’t heard much from inside.” The ranch hand glanced down the drive. “Is the doctor far behind you?”
“He’s not coming. There was a mine cave-in, and he’s busy with the injured.” Franklin started up the walkway to the porch.
“I’ll take care of Major for you. You won’t have to worry about him.”
“Thanks.” Franklin hurried up the steps.
Just before he opened the door, he heard a mewling cry that quickly changed into a squall. He rushed inside and followed the sound toward the bedroom where the women were. He knocked on the door.
It opened, and Mrs. Oleson thrust the newborn, swaddled in a flannel blanket, into his arms. “It’s a boy.”
Then she firmly closed the door between them. He stared down at the tiny, red face with the infant’s mouth wide open. The baby continued bawling like a newborn calf, his tiny tonguevibrating with the noise. What was he supposed to do now? He’d never held a newborn infant before. What if he did something wrong?
Trying to forget his nervousness, he pulled the baby close to his chest and started gently rocking his torso, the way he’d seen other new fathers do at church. He hummed a nameless tune, the kind he often crooned to settle down the cows for the night on cattle drives. Within a couple of minutes, the little scrap of humanity settled his head close to Franklin’s heart. Soon it felt as if the infant’s breathing matched Franklin’s heartbeat, and some kind of unexplainable connection slammed into him almost taking his breath away.
He walked into the parlor, staring at the tiny child the whole time. He couldn’t get enough of looking at the baby. He’d always thought newborn babies were ugly, but this little guy leaned toward cuteness. A fluff of blond hair surrounded his head, and his mouth sucked on his own fist, even though his eyes were closed.
Something deep inside Franklin wished this child were his. The child he would never have. Longings he’d suppressed held him in a firm grip. He imagined the tiny boy taking his first steps, growing and learning about manly things under his own tutelage. He could see riding the range with the young boy in the saddle in front of him.
This baby needed a father to teach him and love him. And holding him so close to his own heart, Franklin knew he could love this child. Maybe the strange connection he felt was the beginning of that love.
The baby stretched his neck and opened his eyes. Franklin had heard women say newborns couldn’t see clearly, but this baby’s eyes locked on his and drew Franklin into his heart as well. The connection was complete.
Why can’t I be the boy’s father?He didn’t have to open his heart to the woman, just because he did to the child. Maybe this was the answer to his desire to have an heir. People got married all the time and had successful marriages with less than a child to keep them together. He could offer marriage to Lorinda. He would protect her, give her a home forever, and they could share this child. She wouldn’t want anything deeper, because of loving and losing her husband. He didn’t want anything else, because he couldn’t allow his heart to be trampled again. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him.
Finally, a way he could have a son.
10
“Sorry, Franklin.” Mrs. Oleson came into the parlor and startled him.
He was concentrating on the baby and his plans so much, he hadn’t heard the sound of her approaching. “Sorry for what?”
“I didn’t mean to leave the boy with you so long. I just had to take care of Lorinda and needed you to hold him for me.” She came over and peeked at the infant sound asleep in his arms. A slow smile spread across her face. “He’s a really cute sprite, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is. And you don’t need to apologize. We got along just fine.” He could hardly pry his eyes from the treasure he held. A tiny baby had changed his perspective completely. “How is Mrs. Sullivan?”
“She’s resting.” Mrs. Oleson ran a finger lightly across the downy cheek of the sleeping baby. “He’s so soft.” She turned her attention toward Franklin. “Don’t you think you should be on a first name basis with her after all this time?”
His housekeeper had a point. He’d been thinking about her as Lorinda for a while now, trying to be careful not to call her that out loud. “I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.”
“When we’re alone, she calls me Ingrid, instead of Mrs. Oleson. I don’t think it will make her uncomfortable at all.”
That settled it in his mind. He was relieved to stop trying to remember not to call her by her first name. From now on, she would be just Lorinda.
A pretty name for a beautiful lady. He was glad he hadn’t blurted that thought aloud, but why was he noticing things like that about her? He didn’t want another pretty woman to get past the wall he’d carefully built around his heart.
His housekeeper put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t the doctor come out here?”
“Mine cave-in at Farncomb Hill.” The baby wiggled in his arms, and Franklin’s eyes were drawn to his tiny face again. “I went out there to talk to him, but he had patients he couldn’t leave. I prayed all the way home for you and Lorinda.” He settled onto a chair, gently cradling the boy. “Have a seat. You look tired.”
She complied and heaved a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you were praying, Franklin. The birth was a little scary for both of us. But God was present, and everything worked out all right. Of course, if the doctor had come with you, he would have been too late for the birth anyway.”
