Brady (Bachelors and Babies Book 15) Page 5

  Molly Butters would be a puzzle for another day.

  His first stop in town was at the telegraph office. He needed to send two telegrams. One to his captain to inform him of his dealings in and around Sugar Springs. The second would go to his mother in Dallas. That would prove to be an interesting message. How should he tell her he needed her help with a baby? That wasn’t his? He hoped she would be able to make the trip and stay for a while.

  The message to Austin went quickly and without a hitch. Dallas to Berta Mae Forester took a bit more thought. He jotted down a few lines to get a feel for what he wanted to say.

  Mother – need your help in Sugar Springs immediately – Please say you will come – Ticket will be waiting at station for you - All my love Brady

  He read his message and reread it several times, before finally handed it to the clerk. He paid for the telegrams and then stopped at Hazelton’s General Store.

  He needed to restock the kitchen with ... everything. That was an additional reason to have his mother here. He only had a bachelor’s knowledge of what supplies to buy. Berta Mae was the expert. Mrs. Hazelton appeared behind the counter.

  “Hello,” She said. “Leonard thought you might need some assistance.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure I need help with the amounts I’ll need for flour, sugar, salt, bacon, and salt pork.”

  “That isn’t a problem. You’ll probably want towels and bed clothes, too.” She donned the Store apron, adding, “Why don’t you wander through the store to see if anything jumps out at you, while I pull a few things together?”

  “All right.”

  He walked to the front of the store to work his way to the rear counter to pay his bill. They probably needed soap, washing powders and bluing? He picked up the bottle and read the label. Used to whiten clothes. He threw it into the basket he carried. If his mother didn’t need it, he felt assured the Hazelton’s would take it back.

  Mrs. Hazelton joined him along the back wall where he stood looking at the items for babies.

  “Can I help you decide on some things for young Marshall?”

  “How did you –?” he shook his head, grinned, and answered his own question. “Ida Murphy, of course.”

  “She’s so excited, you know, I mean obviously sad about the parents, but excited about the baby, and you being a new proud papa.”

  He might as well take advantage of her knowledge, after all, she and Mr. Hazleton had eight children. “I appreciate your kindness,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s see, you’ll need some shirts, some of this light cotton for blankets, these you’ll use for diapers and a couple of bottles.” She tapped her chin for a second, and said, “Wait at the counter, I’ll be right back.” In a few minutes, she came downstairs from their living quarters over the store with a couple of wooden toys. “My babies loved these when they were Marshall’s age. I hope he likes them.”

  “That’s very generous, I’m sure he will.” When she had tallied his bill, he paid and asked, “May I pick up the supplies in a little while after I get the wagon?”

  “Of course, you can. They’ll be right here when you’re ready. Leonard will be happy to help you load them.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Brady’s next stop, before getting Shorty from Doc and Ida, was to see if the Copeland’s wagon was ready. After help arrived this morning, he and Yancey had changed the wagon’s broken wheel and driven into town. Doc had taken the Copeland’s to determine a probable cause of death with his limited resources. Next, Brady had asked the wagon master to make sure it would get him and Shorty home safe and sound.

  While he helped Mr. Hazelton load the supplies into the wagon, Doc and Ida walked the baby over and set him onto the wagon seat. He tossed the bag of flour into the bed which, added to the supplies and furnishings belonging to the Copeland’s, the wagon bed nearly overflowed.

  He climbed onto the seat and glanced at the white hand-woven basket strapped onto the seat beside him. His son, Marshall, kicked both feet and put the toes of one into his mouth. He immediately started sucking for all he was worth.

  Brady laughed out loud.

  Marshall pulled a drool covered toe from his mouth, blew bubbles, grinned, and put the toe right back in.

  “Shorty, I do believe you’re going to be very disappointed at what you get from that toe, but you’re pretty smart. I bet you’ll figure it out.”

  Brady took the reins into his hands, released the brake, and lightly slapped the horses’ rumps. With Emma tied to the rear of the wagon, they headed home.

  ***

  Molly watched Brady ride off toward town from the narrow windows beside the front door. She wasn’t ready to face him yet knowing he had a wife and child. She simply couldn’t do it ridiculous as it seemed. Turning into the cool interior of the main house, she passed by the large mirror hanging beside the hall tree where she caught a glimpse of herself.

  Her hair had escaped the pins and stuck out at odd angles, and there were brown streaks on her face that could only be dried mop water. How she hadn’t scared him to death or have him double over with laughter, she had no idea. Quickly, she ran up to her room to make herself presentable. She wanted to talk to her father about Ranger Forester and he wouldn’t see her looking like this.

  A while later, Molly emerged from her room freshly dressed and coifed. She entered her father’s room and found him still sitting by the window. By this time of a morning, he was usually reading in his library or working at his desk.

  “What’s wrong, Papa?” She walked to his side and rested her hand on his arm. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “I don’t know specifically, but the last few weeks you’ve been more grumpy than usual, and then you asked to see Brady. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  He patted her hand and moved it off his arm. “There’s no need to worry about me, daughter. I always land on my feet. Now, run along and find something to do.”

  She hated when he dismissed her like she was five years old. Run along and play and leave the decision making to me. Would he ever realize she was a woman grown, capable of running not only the house, but the ranch, as well?

  Chapter Six

  Brady awoke on Sunday morning to the sounds of the new rooster and chickens he had bought plus Marshall jabbering to himself in the other room. He got up and peered around the corner at his son laying in the crib. He had both hands around his left foot looking at his toes, gurgling and blowing bubbles.

  “So that’s what Ida meant when she said you’d found your feet, huh?” He whispered so he didn’t interrupt. There was so much to discover about babies, he didn’t know if he would ever learn half as much as he would need to raise this child.

  Fortunately, his mother would be arriving today. He looked forward to acquainting her with her grandson. Marshall would benefit from her knowledge of raising children and Martha Copeland could rest easier knowing she had chosen wisely.

  He had a couple of hours before they had to leave for town, so he decided to look at more of the items he had uncovered in the Copeland’s wagon. Yesterday evening, he discovered all the pieces to Marshall’s crib, blankets, and a small hand embroidered pillow. There were linens, a few treasured pieces of china, a cast iron pot with lid, tools, and farm equipment.

  This morning he opened the trunk. Inside were more household items, two dresses, one wool and one cotton, a man’s suit, one pair of pants, and baby clothes. Further down were hair ribbons, a sewing box, knitting needles, and two quilts. The Copeland family Bible, a book of poetry, a cookbook, and a well-worn copy of Mrs. Beasley’s Book of Household Management lined the bottom. The sum of Martha and John Copeland’s earthly possessions. Not much in monetary value, but next to his own mother and father, they were two of the richest people he had ever known.

  He noticed a change in the tone of Marshall’s banter from content to fussy, which he had learned meant he was hungry, he want
ed to be held, or change me. The volume cranked up depending on which one pertained. He carefully placed everything back into the trunk and stood.

  “Hold on, Shorty,” he called out. “I’m on my way.”

  Two hours later, Brady and the baby waited for his mother to arrive from Weatherford. She had decided to take a stagecoach to the small town from Fort Worth to visit an old friend. The friend’s husband would bring her on to Sugar Springs. He sat in the rocking chair in front of Hazelton’s General Store enjoying the shade and slight breeze holding Shorty on his knee. From this vantage point, he could see both ends of the town. No wonder Ida Hazelton sat here throughout the day. She would be able to load up on all kinds of gossip.

  He visited with the mayor’s and the Baptist preacher’s wives. Marshall enjoyed the attention as both women held him and oohed and ahed over him. After they went into the store to shop, he saw a wagon entering town from the East. As it drew closer, he saw Berta Mae Forester in the back of the covered carriage with her friend, while a man handled the two-horse team from the elevated front seat. They stopped in front of the store, his mother hugged the woman, said goodbye, and then waved to Brady. He unloaded her travel luggage and put her bags into the wagon, then met her at the steps to the walkway.

  She threw her arms around him and the baby. “Son, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” She leaned back a bit and asked, “And who is this fine young man?”

  “It’s good to see you, Ma,” Brady said. He hesitated but didn’t know how else to tell her other than to say it. “This, Berta Mae Forester, is your grandson, Marshall.”

  “Grandson?”

  Marshall reached out for her.

  Berta Mae took him into her arms and squeezed him tight. “I must say this was the farthest from my mind when I received your telegram. I can hardly wait to meet your wife.” She looked toward the door of the store. “Is she shopping?”

  “Not shopping, Ma.”

  “Where is she, then?”

  “There is no wife.”

  Brady loved the fact his mother didn’t judge. She accepted people for who and what they were. Already, Marshall had her wrapped around his little finger. Obviously being a baby had its advantages, but he knew when he was able to tell her Marshall’s story, she would take it all in stride and embrace the situation.

  “I ordered some supplies for the house and Shorty, with the help of Mrs. Hazelton. Do you want to get anything before we head home?”

  “Not that I can think of offhand,” she said. “It’s a comfort, though, knowing Ida’s still working in the store. I’ll make a list and come in to visit with her soon.”

  He helped her maneuver the steps and then, into the wagon. She put a half sleepy little boy into the basket, letting him continue to hold her finger. When he climbed onto the seat beside them, Brady said, “Let’s go home.”

  ***

  It was all Molly could do to keep from charging over to Brady and his mother and confronting him, but what good would it do? He clearly didn’t want to tell her about his wife and baby. Did he think she couldn’t handle knowing about them? Granted, when he left three years ago, she had thought they had an understanding that they would get married upon his return. Well, she had had the understanding.

  She turned her back to the street, when they passed by, so neither one would feel obligated to speak. Besides, she needed to meet Sally at the Melrose for lunch. She enjoyed their scheduled meetings out. Both had a chance to get away from the chores and responsibilities they faced. She thought it helped her more than her friend. Sally had a loving husband and a sweet baby, whereas Molly had Lloyd Butters. She didn’t think that was much of a comparison.

  Sally waved to her from inside the restaurant. When Molly joined her, the table chosen was the same one she had shared with the sheriff and Brady. Oh, for goodness sake. She hugged Sally and sat at the table carefully avoiding the chair Brady had used.

  “How are the two Daves?” Molly settled into her chair and placed her napkin across her lap.

  “Not all that good,” Sally said. “Unfortunately, they both have heat rash.”

  “Oh, sorry to hear that.”

  “Me, too.” Sally grinned. “Believe it or not, the baby is easier to deal with.”

  “I do believe it,” she agreed. “Sometimes, Papa is such a child.”

  They placed their order with Muriel’s assistant and went back to visiting.

  “Have you heard any gossip lately?” Sally asked in a whisper.

  “No, and my ears are hungry for some.” Molly’s mother had taught her Nice young ladies didn’t talk about people and spread rumors. Life, though, was dull in Sugar Springs, so she leaned in closer. “What have you got?”

  “Well, Belinda Moynahan left a month ago to meet her betrothed in Austin to get married.”

  “I knew that.”

  “Did you know she came home the other night, in the middle of the night, without a husband?”

  “No, I wonder what happened?”

  “Rumor has it,” Sally said conspiratorially, “He had already married a senator’s daughter.”

  Molly related a little too closely to the plight of Miss Moynahan and desired to change the subject. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied. “Anything else?” She was hoping to hear someone had bleached their favorite dress or ate too much pie and couldn’t wear their dress to the summer dance this weekend.

  “I heard something at Hazelton’s store the other day.”

  “What’s Mrs. Hazelton stirring up now?”

  “Brady Forester has a baby!”

  Molly nearly fell out of her chair. She should have expected to hear this from someone, just not her best friend. How did she respond? Treat the information matter-of-factly, as if she already knew it and it didn’t make a difference to her? Or did she adopt an attitude of indifference? She wanted to act like she didn’t care, but the fact was she did care. Suddenly, her head started to pound, and she needed to be anywhere but here at this minute. She didn’t blame her friend, but it was time to go.

  She placed the napkin on the table, stood, and explained, “Sally, please excuse me, but I promised to look in on Papa this afternoon. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Molly?”

  There was no way she could look at Sally to explain away the confusion she must be feeling. She couldn’t really explain it to herself. This would qualify as one of those times when she wished her mother were here. She would love to ask Judith’s advice on how to move forward.

  Mother. She remembered seeing Brady’s mother in the wagon with him a while ago. Mrs. Forester had helped her several times after her own mother had died. That was it. After she had worked up enough courage, she would pay the woman a visit, maybe take over a cake, and find out what Brady had been up to.

  ***

  Brady lay in the middle of the living room floor, propped on one elbow, while he watched Shorty stare at his feet. He had finished telling his mother how Shorty came to be here and about finding Martha and John Copeland.

  “I think that’s about the saddest story I’ve ever heard.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “You know Mrs. Copeland didn’t find you by accident, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the Lord directed her here. You are meant to raise this child.”

  “Your logic is off by a couple of hairs, Ma.” He grinned. “He knows me better than anybody, so why would He trust me to have a hand in raising a gnat, much less a little human?”

  “Because He also knows you’re a good man. You just took a little more honing than some.”

  “I guess.”

  “Why do you call him Shorty?”

  “When I found him in the basket, I didn’t know his name right away, and I started calling him Short Stuff.” With a shrug of his shoulder, he said, “Shorty seemed right.”

  A knock sounded on the wood trim of the screen door. Before Brady could get off the floor, Berta Mae wa
s already there.

  “Hello,” she said. “May I help you?”

  He couldn’t hear whoever it was.

  “Of course.” She held open the screen door. “Brady, a young woman is here to see you.”

  “Molly!” He jumped off the floor to face his visitor who turned out to be, Belinda Moynahan. “Oh, it’s you.” He tried not to show it, but he was sorely disappointed.

  “I heard your mother is visiting so I brought an apple pie.” Handing the dish to Berta Mae, she said, “Hello Mrs. Forester.”

  “Hello, Belinda.” Berta Mae took the pie and took a whiff. “How nice to see you again. Excuse me while I set this on the buffet in the dining room.”

  Brady didn’t know if he thought it nice, but then he wasn’t the one to ask for he would rather have seen Molly at the door. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you. Is that the little boy everyone’s talking about?”

  You know it is, but, aloud, he said, “Yes, this is Marshall.” He picked up the baby and held him in his lap. “Everyone’s talking about this, huh?”

  “The whole town is buzzing like a hive.”

  “Maybe they should find something else to do besides gossip. Idle hands and all that.” The words were out before he could stop them. It was lucky his mother was in the other room.

  “Brady, can I see you, please?”

  Had her hearing gotten better?

  “Yes, ma’am.” To Belinda, he said, “Excuse me.”

  He met her in the hallway outside the kitchen. She looked sweet and innocuous, but he had met the sting of her words and her hand before.

  “You know better. Think anything you want but keep your thoughts to yourself.” She took the baby from him. “Marshall needs a change and a nap. Now, go visit with your young woman and be nice. I raised you better.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He rejoined Belinda as she stood. “You don’t have to rush off. I can make some coffee and cut the pie. It smells delicious.”

  She inched her way to the door. “I promised I wouldn’t be gone too long. Will you be at the dance on Saturday night?”