The Gift of a Child. Laura Abbot
is so, let us hope such callous, unworthy parents will not be found.”
“I pray that may be the case.”
“Sheriff Jensen is only doing his duty, Rose.”
“I know that. He’s already notifying law enforcement offices throughout the region and is having one of his deputies draw up and distribute posters.” She caught her breath. “I can’t bear to think of Alf’s picture on display all over the territory.”
“But if it helps?” Her sister gazed into her eyes, as if by a look she could force reason.
“You think I’m being foolish.”
“Not foolish, my dear. I know you already love the boy, but I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.” Lily paused, as if garnering resolve. “You’ve always been the more practical of the two of us. You know a search is the right and necessary thing to do.”
Rose bit her lip, her emotions at war with her intellect. Finally, she nodded. “It’s so hard.”
“I understand, but in the time you have with little Alf, you must live as Mother always did.”
Rose paused to reflect on her precious mother and her difficult last days at Fort Larned. The influenza had ultimately carried her off. Yet even at the last, she’d admonished her daughters with the words Rose now repeated. “We only have today. Live each moment fully.”
“Exactly. That advice served Mother well and it has served us well.”
For the first time since Lily had arrived, Rose managed a smile. “I’ll try.”
“All right, then.” Lily picked up the abandoned list. “Sunday clothes. That’s a must. You will want to show off Alf next Sunday at services.”
From the corner came a loud crash followed by a feline shriek. “Gone!” Alf cried. Sure enough, the wall had been destroyed. “I’ll do it again.”
Rose watched fondly as he began reconstructing the wall. “I hope it will be as easy for us to help him rebuild his life.”
“It is in God’s hands, Rose, one day at a time.”
* * *
The next Sunday was a lovely day, the hint of a breeze ruffling the ladies’ bonnets and the fragrance of flowers and newly mown grass mingling in the air. As the congregation gathered before the service, many were still talking about the previous Sunday’s ice cream social. Ezra, Rose and Alf had taken advantage of the temperate weather to walk to the church. Yet far from relaxing, Rose clutched Alf’s hand and prayed for his smooth introduction to the townsfolk. Over the past few days Bess Stanton, Willa Stone, Horace Clay’s wife Essie and a few others had stopped by the house to welcome Alf and to bring gifts of clothing, toys and food. Rose hoped their generosity was a harbinger of things to come this morning.
No sooner had she and her father settled in the pew with Alf huddled between them, than Rose became aware of discreet stares, a few audible tsks and condemnatory looks on the faces of Chauncey and Bertha Britten, sitting directly across the aisle. Then with no attempt to lower her voice, Bertha punched her husband in the side and said, “I declare. What does Rose Kellogg think she’s doing bringing that half-breed in here?”
Anger and defensiveness overwhelmed Rose, and she longed to call the woman to task. How dare Bertha speak so uncharitably, and in church of all places. Before she could act on her impulse, the congregation rose for the opening hymn, “Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us.” Rose choked on the line “much we need thy tender care,” thinking of Alf and his need of “tender care.” Then, as if her mother were whispering in her ear, the words “Trust in the Lord always” rose in her heart, defusing her anger.
During the pastor’s sermon, she found herself watching Seth Montgomery, as usual seated near the front with his family. She had been unprepared last Monday for the way he had so immediately gained Alf’s trust. If she hadn’t already witnessed his devotion to Mattie, she would never have believed the man could’ve intuited what Alf needed. The little boy interrupted her reverie by crawling onto her lap and sitting back against her chest, solemnly studying his surroundings. Then smiling, he pointed and called out, “Sett!”
The Brittens glared at him and Rose heard a few shushes, but Seth turned around, his eyes sparkling, and waved at Alf. “My Sett,” the boy mumbled before settling contentedly against Rose. “Big.”
Leaving the church after the service, the Brittens skirted Rose and Alf, as if fearing contamination. When Bertha passed by, she hissed at Rose, “What are you thinking? You, an unmarried woman!” Once again, Rose barely withheld her retort, saved from injudicious action by Seth, who gathered a delighted Alf in his arms and led them out to the churchyard.
Fuming, Rose turned to her father and Seth. “Did you hear Bertha?”
Ezra nodded. “You’ll have to expect some of that from the more judgmental folks.”
“Rose, don’t waste your energy on them,” Seth advised, all the while jouncing Alf in his arms.
“Sett. You, me. Big!”
In response, Seth lifted the boy skyward and whirled around to Alf’s delighted laughter.
Seth’s playfulness had settled Rose’s blood pressure. He seemed the most even-dispositioned of men. She couldn’t think of a time at their family gatherings when she had ever seen him out of sorts. Quiet, yes. Content to observe, but never surly.
Lily, Caleb and Mattie approached, and when Seth saw them, he lowered Alf to the ground, where he stood clinging to Seth’s leg. Rose held her breath, praying Mattie would not be jealous of the boy and the attention he was receiving from her beloved uncle. She need not have worried. Mattie toddled toward Alf, flung her arms around him and laughed gleefully. “Brudder,” she said.
Startled, the boy extricated himself from her grasp. “Alf,” he said by way of correction.
Lily leaned over. “Alf is not your brother, Mattie. He is your friend.”
Mattie shook her head stubbornly. “Brudder.” Then she took hold of Alf’s hand. “My Alfie.” And off she went, with her new playmate in tow.
Before the adults could take chase, Seth held up his hand. “Let me. You visit.” With long strides he caught up to the children and steered them toward a patch of grass under a large elm tree, where he sat down, a child balanced on each knee. From a distance, he appeared to be telling them a story.
Lily slipped her hand into Rose’s. “That’s quite a picture.”
“Seth must be touched by fairy dust. The children adore him.”
Lily looked pointedly at Rose. “He’s lonely.”
“Yet he seems content with his lot.”
“That’s what he wants us to believe. He would never have any of us worry about him.”
Rose heard the hint of concern in her sister’s words. “And yet you do worry...”
“He needs a life of his own. He will make some woman a devoted husband.” Lily hesitated, then shocked Rose with her next words. “Are you interested?”
What was Lily suggesting? Why, Rose had never in her wildest dreams considered the possibility. If she had ever confessed her unfortunate experience at Fort Larned while Lily was away in St. Louis, her sister would know better than to indulge in such romantic fantasies on her behalf. But that phase of her life was closed, and it was better no one in her family knew of it. “Lily, Seth is like family. I could never think of him as a potential suitor even if I were so inclined, which I’m not. Besides, he doesn’t lack for women who are interested in him. Look.” She pointed to Seth, who had now gathered a group of children around him. Standing among the youngsters was the Widow Spencer, a Cheshire cat grin dominating her face.
Lily followed her gaze. “She’s not his type.”
Rose