Irene Read online

  “The conductor said that antelope have a very large windpipe that enables them to suck in lots of air so they can run fast for a long time.”

  Harry’s gaze shifted to his father. “You ever seen antelope, Dad?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I’d like to.”

  Harry turned shyly to Irene. “We’ve seen a mommy moose and her baby down by the river. And we got baby kittens.”

  Donald turned toward Harry, and although Donald never spoke, Harry said, “Donald found them first.”

  “Will I be invited to see them?”

  Harry and Donald exchanged glances, then Harry said, “We’ll take you.”

  “Thank you. I can hardly wait.”

  When supper was over, Zach pushed back from the table. “I need to do the chores.”

  Harry scooted from the table. Donald stuck his fingers in his mouth and trotted after him, but Zach intercepted him.

  “You could stay with Aunt Addie, Son.” But Donald gave his father a hard look, and Zach relented. “Get your jacket and come with us, then.”

  Addie waited until the door closed before she turned to Irene. “I’ll show you around, then I best be getting home and looking after my own man.”

  “I appreciate your help.” Irene followed her into the next room, a parlor with a worn burgundy sofa and wooden rocker, a box of toys near the chair, and a table with a mantel clock.

  Addie led the way back through the kitchen to another door that entered a short, square hallway with a row of hooks overloaded with coats and scarves on one wall, a large wooden chest beneath the coats. Two doors faced each other.

  “The boys sleep here.” Addie stepped into the left door. “I’ve cleaned up some. I didn’t think it was fair for you to walk into a big mess.” She pointed to the other door. “This is the other bedroom.”

  Irene’s gaze took in the wide bed and high dresser, her trunks against one wall.

  “I’ll stay until the boys are ready for bed.” Addie gathered up dishes to wash. “Unless you’d feel better if I left.”

  “No, I appreciate your help. There’s so much I need to learn all at once. Where things are kept, what the boys like, who they are, what Zach expects. . .” She bit her bottom lip. Addie, as Zach’s sister, might think Irene indiscreet.

  Addie smiled gently. “Even Zach doesn’t know what Zach wants.”

  Irene chuckled. “I’ve had the same feeling once or twice myself.”

  “Life gets far too complicated at times,” Addie said. “But then why should that surprise us? My mother always said, ‘Life is so full of the unexpected that sometimes I think the unexpected is really the expected.’ ” She laughed. “I’m sure I don’t know what she meant, but it sounds wonderfully wise.”

  Irene laughed with her. “It’s a mercy we can’t see what lies ahead. I’m afraid it would make us unable to enjoy what the present offers.”

  “That’s a fact. Who would marry if they thought they would have to go through what Zach has gone through—is going through.” She shuddered. “If I thought I’d ever lose Pete, why, I don’t know what I’d do. Fortunately, we only have to live one day at a time. Now, you’ll be needing to know where all the fixings are. There’s a lovely big pantry here.” She led the way into a narrow room, its shelves filled with every assortment of bottled goods and baking supplies. “Zach and the boys will eat most anything.”

  At that moment, Zach and the boys clattered through the door, pails banging, boots thudding. He bent and helped Donald with his jacket. When he straightened, his eyes sought Irene. Was he wondering if anything had made her change her mind? She smiled. “Addie’s been showing me around.”

  “I thought I’d get the boys ready for bed,” Addie said.

  “It’s been a long day. I suppose you fellows are tired,” he said.

  Harry shook his head. “Can’t we play for awhile?”

  “Not tonight, Son. It’s been a long day for all of us.” His voice was gentle yet firm, and he ran his hand over the boy’s hair. “Run and get your pajamas on.”

  Harry nodded, reaching for Donald.

  “I’ll help Donald get ready. You bring me his pajamas.” Zach lifted Donald into his arms and sank into the chair next to Irene. The little boy snuggled into his father’s neck with the assurance of a young pup at its mother’s side. His dark eyes regarded Irene. His fingers were secured in his mouth.

  Irene’s throat tightened. It was a pose so protective, so sheltering that she could almost feel the child’s tension ease.

  Harry returned in a pair of pajamas several inches too short, and the front bunched up where he’d tried to fix a tear with a safety pin. The idea of this child struggling to do for himself what should be done for him filled her with admiration even as tears burned at the back of her nose.

  “Here, Donald.” Harry put a pair of threadbare pajamas on the table. He untied Donald’s shoes, struggled with a knot in the laces, pulled off the shoes and socks, and set them on the table.

  Zach set Donald forward. “Time to get rid of that shirt.” He eased it over Donald’s head, waiting for Donald to momentarily take his fingers from his mouth then slipped the pajama shirt on with deftness that made Irene smile.

  Addie chuckled. “He’s got that down pat.”

  Irene nodded. “Looks like a man with lots of practice.”

  Donald settled again into the hollow of Zach’s leg. “Man learns to do any job efficiently,” Zach said to Addie.

  “Like a woman doesn’t!” Addie protested.

  “Women fuss over little things.” He half smiled at Irene when Addie sputtered.

  “Little things. Like what?” Seeing his grin, she laughed. “You sucker me in every time. You’d think I’d learn.”

  “You’d think so, but I’m doubtful.”

  “You’re doubtful? Why. . .” She swallowed the rest. “Why, you’re despicable.”

  Irene laughed. She sensed the deep affection between the brother and sister, affection that allowed for teasing, and a shared strength, she guessed, that would see either one come to the rescue of the other.

  Addie rose. “I think I’ll head on home before it gets dark.”

  “Better get on home before Pete comes gunning for me.” Zach nodded. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Anytime. I mean that.” She turned to Irene. “I’m only a couple miles away if you need anything. I wish you all the best.” She nodded to Zach. “I believe she’ll do just fine.” She kissed each boy. “You boys behave yourselves, or I’ll be back.”

  Harry giggled.

  And then she was gone.

  The four of them sat around the table, not looking at each other; the only sound was Donald sucking on his fingers.

  “Come on, boys, time to climb into bed.”

  Irene wanted to offer to read to them, but she knew it was too soon. The boys needed time to get to know her. She shamelessly listened to the murmur of Zach’s deep voice as he tucked them into bed and Harry’s thin, childish tones as he said his prayers. Her heart swelled with unshed tears. This home had seen more than its share of sorrow and pain. As Addie had said, she had her work cut out for her in trying to help them. She knew why God had led her to this place; this family needed understanding and patience as they healed.

  She longed to begin unpacking her trunks, but uncertain if Zach would want to sit at the table longer, visit in the parlor, or head for the bedroom, she remained where she was. She had no idea if Zach went to bed early or sat up late. She had no idea of what came next.

  2

  While she waited, Irene watched out the window knowing she would never get tired of the sight of those great, rugged mountains. The sun crowned them with a brilliant gold then dropped behind the jagged peaks, leaving behind a cloud of pink. She breathed deeply as if to inhale the beauty.

  She felt Zach step into the room and stiffened, wondering what was next.

  He stood behind her, not speaking, until finally she felt compelled to turn and ask, “Are they s
ettled?”

  Zach, his arms crossed, his expression thoughtful, nodded. “Harry takes awhile to settle, but Donald is curled up already asleep.” He pulled out a chair at the end of the table. “What do you think?”

  Her mind on the sunset, her thoughts scrambled for his meaning. “Of what?”

  “The boys.”

  “Why, they’re delightful. Harry is so grown-up. And Donald—”

  “He hasn’t spoken since his mother died.”

  “I know. Addie told me. But he’s still charming. His eyes say things without the need of words. Why, with eyes like that, he’d melt anyone’s heart.” Donald’s eyes were a duplication of Zach’s dark gaze. She gulped and ducked her head, afraid she’d said too much. “But. . .” She sought the right way to say what she felt.

  “But what?” His words carried a hard warning note.

  “I think it will take time for us to get to know each other. All of us. To understand what each one needs. To trust each other.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Time is on our side.”

  “I hope you’ll be patient with me while I learn my way around.” A smile tugged at her lips. “I’m used to making my own decisions, finding my own solution for problems. I’m not noted for sitting back quietly and demurely, so if I inadvertently tread on your toes, don’t be afraid to speak out. I’m not intentionally abrupt.”

  He studied her quietly, his eyes dark and intense. Then he gave a slow smile that drove away the tension around his mouth. “I’ll be letting you know if you step out-of-bounds.” He chuckled. “Now I sound like a slave driver. And I’m not.”

  The transformation in him when he laughed sent tremors along her arms. Why, he was as handsome as could be, and the way his eyes blazed was enough to make her blink.

  He pushed to his feet, forcing her to tip her head back to meet his eyes. “I’ve some things I need to check on outside. Go ahead and attend to your unpacking. Make yourself at home. Don’t wait up for me.” He strode from the house.

  Irene sat back. It was a bit like getting run over by a wagon. But her trunks waited, so she lit a lantern and hurried to the bedroom.

  Zach had emptied the drawers in a tall chiffonier. She unlocked the trunk containing her summer things and lifted them into the drawers. Zach’s things in the wide wardrobe took little space, and she hung up her dresses and coat beside them. Her Bible and pictures of Father and of Grace and Billy’s wedding, she placed on the small table by the bed. A pair of boots on one side of the bed made her choose the opposite side.

  She wasn’t afraid; she wasn’t nervous, but not knowing what to expect from this part of the arrangement set her on edge as she prepared for bed. She lay waiting, stiff and tense. Zach did not appear. Perhaps he intended to give her plenty of time to perform her bedtime rituals, in which case she would continue with some of her long-established habits. She picked up her Bible to read a few verses, then spent several minutes in prayer asking for wisdom and guidance in her new role.

  Still he did not appear. She turned the lantern down and lay staring at the soft shadows on the ceiling, listening as one of the boys moaned.

  Her eyelids grew heavy. She forced her eyes wide open, determined to be awake when Zach came to bed. This, too, was part of the arrangement between them, and the sooner they established their roles, the better she’d like it. Not knowing was almost killing her.

  A sound in the kitchen jarred her awake. It took a moment for her to remember where she was and another to decide the sound was the outside door opening and closing.

  Again, she forced her eyelids up and waited.

  Darkness had deepened when she awoke with a start. The lantern still burned; the bed beside her remained empty.

  She struggled from her warm sleep and shrugged into her wrap. She found him in the parlor, his head against the back of the sofa, his legs stuck out awkwardly. She studied him a moment then went back to the bedroom and got a blanket. He stirred only enough to sigh as she tucked it around his shoulders.

  She watched him sleep, his features indistinct in the darkness. No doubt he’d be stiff and sore in the morning. This was not how things should be. She needed to think what she should do about it.

  Irene woke at first light and hurried to the kitchen. As quietly as possible she built the fire and put coffee to boil. The aroma began to percolate through the room as Zach staggered from the parlor, his eyes bleary with sleep. The poor man looked in no condition to hear what she had to say.

  “Good morning,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee.

  “Huh.” His grunt revealed nothing about his emotional state, only a desperate need for coffee. He downed the first cupful without regard for the temperature, and she refilled the cup. Slowly, like winding up a blind, she watched him come to life.

  “Looks like a nice day,” he commented, staring out the window.

  Irene nodded. “Not a cloud in the sky.”

  Finally, he set down his cup and looked at her. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Fine. And yourself?”

  He only gave her a hard stare.

  “I’ll be needing a saw today,” she said.

  “A saw? What for?”

  Her jaw tightened as she faced him. “I’ll be sawing the bed in half today. I’ll have one half, you the other.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?”

  “I’ll not be driving a man from his bed.”

  He blinked but said nothing.

  She persisted. “Would you be so kind as to bring me a saw after breakfast?”

  “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would, indeed.”

  He shook his head. “Lady, you are crazy.”

  “Will you get me a saw, or do I have to find it on my own?” She refused to pull back from his dark, hard look.

  He held up his hand. “No need to be hasty. If you’re going to force me to sleep in a bed, I’d just as soon sleep in a whole one.”

  She nodded. “Fine then. So long as we understand each other.”

  He studied her, his eyes narrow, questioning. “You don’t need to think—”

  “Is it morning?” Harry’s question interrupted Zach’s words, and he turned to his son.

  “Good morning. Where’s Donald?”

  “I’ll get him.” Harry turned back down the hall.

  Irene waited, but Zach did not finish what he’d started to say. What warning had he been about to deliver? She had a good idea he had been about to tell her there were things he wouldn’t be pushed into doing. Which suited her just fine.

  Harry returned, holding Donald firmly by the hand.

  “Harry, get dressed and help me with the chores.”

  Harry turned, Donald still firmly attached.

  “Donald can stay in the house.”

  Both boys jerked to a halt. Donald’s wide, dark gaze stared at his father. Harry looked at his younger brother then back to his dad.

  “Do as I say, Son.” Zach’s voice was quiet and insistent.

  Harry nodded and pulled his hand from Donald’s, his expression pain-filled as he went to put on his jacket.

  Donald sucked on his fingers, his eyes accusing his father as he faced him alone.

  Zach scooped him up. “It’s all right, little man. You can stay here with your new mommy. She needs someone to help her.” Zach set Donald on his feet, and he and Harry hurried from the house without a backward look. Irene understood this was difficult for them.

  The child faced Irene, his dark eyes unblinking, his lips tight around his fingers.

  Irene smiled at his tiny resistance. “I guess I should make some breakfast.” She purposely waited. “You got any notion what I should make?” She again waited, hoping the child would make some motion of acknowledgment besides the vigorous sucking of his fingers.

  After several minutes of staring at each other, he nodded once.

  “Good. Is it a secret?”

  Donald shook his head. His eyes darted to the pantry the
n back to Irene.

  “Can you show me?”

  He slid into the pantry, Irene following.

  “It’s in here?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you show me where?”

  His gaze never left hers.

  “Ah. It’s a guessing game.” She thought she detected an answering gleam in his eyes. “Very well.” She picked up a can of baking soda. “Is this it?”

  He shook his head.

  “This?” She indicated a jar of peaches. His eyes definitely gleamed this time. “Well, why not? I’d like peaches for breakfast. Anything else?”

  His gaze darted along the shelves, and he nodded.

  Again she touched item after item until she reached the bag of oats. “This?”

  He nodded.

  “Porridge and peaches?”

  He nodded.

  “Very well.” He followed her from the pantry. “I’ll put these oats to boil right away. You know the best way to cook them is to put them on the night before and let them steam all night. But we’ll make do this way today.” She stood in the center of the kitchen. “Now, where do you suppose I would find the proper pot?”

  Donald moved to the front of the cupboard where Irene knew the pots hung.

  “You’re a big help. I don’t know how I’d manage without you. Now if there’s anything I’ve forgotten, you be sure to tell me. All right?”

  He nodded solemnly, watching as she set the porridge to simmer then set the table.

  “There. That’s about as much as we can do until Harry and your dad get back from chores. What should we do now?”

  He met her eyes.

  “I know. I’ll help you get dressed.” She sensed his sudden withdrawal but ignored it. “But you’ll have to show me where everything is and what you like to wear.” She headed for the bedroom.

  He hesitated a moment, then followed.

  Keeping up her constant chatter, she selected a shirt and trousers for him and found a clean pair of socks. “I think I’ll have to see about doing some laundry today.” She cocked her head to one side and faced him, her hands on her hips. “You ever done laundry before?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then I guess we’ll have to learn together.”