Page 508 of Conveniently Wed
“You are so precious.” She leaned to plant a kiss on his soft cheek.
His mouth worked around a little, and he uttered a soft coo. His eyes widened as if he were as surprised as she was at the new sound. Lorinda smiled as she reveled in the music from her son’s heart.
“Nothing is sweeter than that.” Ingrid’s soft voice invaded Lorinda’s thoughts. “He’s really growing, isn’t he?”
She hadn’t noticed her friend come into the parlor. Ingrid bustled around the room straightening things that looked just fine to Lorinda. It must have been wonderful living in places that were always clean and neat. She forced the memories that started to creep into her thoughts back into the trunk deep in her mind. She mentally turned the key to lock them away. Maybe someday, the uncomfortable memories would disappear altogether.
“I can put him in his bassinet. I think he’d like to watch what we are doing. I’m sure it’s time to start fixing supper.” Lorinda stood, being careful not to jostle her son.
She really didn’t want him to spit up on her. She didn’t have enough clothes to change several times a day, and she didn’t like the sour smell it left on her.
“Spending time with your baby is important, too.” Ingrid picked up the newspaper Franklin had been reading the night before and folded it. “I’ll just drop this off in his office.”
Lorinda took Michael into the kitchen and laid him in the basket-like bed they had set close to where the women did the cooking. He spent the nights in the cradle in her bedroom, but most of the time in the kitchen, he was awake. She loved watching him kick and look all around while she helped prepare the meals. Mrs. Oleson had tied some colorfully painted wooden rings to the handle of the basket with yarn just long enough that his fingers could bat at them. The swinging movement captured his attention.
“I thought we could have fried chicken tonight. It’s one of Franklin’s favorites. I put the dressed one Stella brought by this morning in the spring house.” Ingrid donned an apron that covered much of the front of her dress. “I’ll let you make the mashed potatoes, and I’ll take care of the chicken.”
Lorinda leaned over and placed another kiss on Michael’s cheek. “Want me to get a jar of green beans from the cellar?”
“Bring two, and I’ll make the biscuits.” Ingrid reached for the canister that contained flour.
Lorinda glanced out the window. Today was such a beautiful day. A few cottony clouds floated overhead, and three hawks whirled around gracefully as if they were playing chase. They looked so carefree. She wished she were. Flying away on the wind sounded wonderful, but so many things tied her to this place … not just her son.
She really didn’t feel she was doing her share of the work. Having her and her son in the household added more to the busy schedule, and the things she’d been doing couldn’t make up for the extra stress. If something didn’t change, she might have to leave and find another place to work. To relieve the burden on Mrs. Oleson, if for no other reason. But deep in her heart, she didn’t really want to go. The ranch had been a sanctuary for her when she needed it most. Here she was creating happy memories that could someday force out all the dark ones. Humming a snatch of a hymn they had sung at church on Sunday, she felt carefree and alive for those few minutes. More than she had since losing Mike.
When she arrived back in the kitchen, Ingrid had picked up Michael and held him close to her heart. Lorinda enjoyed the sight. The older woman looked like a grandmother. The only grandmother her son would ever know. One more reason she didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t add to this wonderful woman’s workload.
“He really likes you, Ingrid.” Lorinda had no memory of a grandmother in her own life. Could she deny her son the presence of one?
Her friend grinned. “And I really like him, too. I love his clean baby smell.” She buried her nose against his neck and sniffed, then pressed a soft kiss there.
After opening the beans, Lorinda dumped them in a pot and set it on the stove. “I’m glad to see you taking some time to relax.” She glanced toward Ingrid.
“Oh, I relax quite often. More now than I ever did before.” Ingrid slipped into another chair at the table and gently rocked Michael. Slowly his eyes drifted closed. “I think he’s going to nap. I’ll put him down and start supper.”
Both women worked a few minutes in silence. Finally, Lorinda had the beans seasoned just right. “You know, sometimes I feel I’m not really doing my share of the work. You’ve been going too easy on me.”
Ingrid turned toward her. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not helping enough around here. I’m just adding to your already heavy workload.” Lorinda stirred the beans again. “If I’m not doing my part, I might need to find somewhere else to stay...and a new job.”
A frown snatched the twinkle from the housekeeper’s eyes, and deep wrinkles grooved her forehead. “I would hate to see you go. Just having you here has made a big difference in my life. And both Franklin and I enjoy having this baby around.” She nodded toward the bassinet. “If you want me to give you more to do, I’ll find other jobs for you. I’d hate to face the long winter without you here, and I’d be worried about you and the baby if you left.”
Lorinda hadn’t even considered that possibility. “All right. I’d like to stay if I’m really a help.”
Why had she brought this up? Yes, she felt as if she wasn’t being productive enough, but she hadn’t wanted to upset Ingrid. The other woman was right about the long winter. Visions of the solitude she experienced for six months in the mountain cabin circled like vultures in her mind. The deep ache of the remembered loneliness almost took her breath away. Of course, Ingrid wasn’t truly as alone as she had been in that log house.
“Having a woman to talk to and work on projects with will make the winter so much easier.” Ingrid’s smile dismissed Lorinda’s idea to move on.
All she could do was nod. Relief rose within her. She knew she’d probably eat better if she stayed here, and her son needed her for his nourishment. If only she could settle her mind about the future.
The back door to the mudroom opened with a squeak. Lorinda glanced at the kitchen clock. “It’s a little early for Franklin to be finished with his work, isn’t it?”
Releasing an enticing aroma, Ingrid turned the piece of chicken she had picked up with her fork and replaced it in the pan of bubbling grease. “He has been coming in a little earlier each day this week.”
Lorinda heard one of his boots drop to the floor with a thud. He was the first man she’d ever known who took off his boots in a mudroom at the end of a work day. That sure made keeping a clean house easier.
“Do I smell my favorite meal?” Franklin walked straight to the bassinet, and Lorinda realized he’d done that a lot lately. Even before he checked out what was on the stove.
