firmly in her tiny little mouth.
"You two must lie here with Pierre," their
uncle explained to them with great seriousness. "The baby needs his
rest and you must watch over him."
Ten-month-old Pierre, wide-eyed, gurgling
happily, and as fat as a sausage, seemed the only one of the three
who wasn't really sleepy.
"All right," Gaston agreed with a sigh as he
snuggled down into the bed. "I'll lie here and take care of
Pierre."
"Me, too," Marie echoed.
Armand kissed all three and waited beside the
bed as he watched Felicite do the same. The two older children were
already dozing off as he took his sister-in-law's arm and urged her away from the
sleeping room.
"We must find you a place to sit," he said.
"You are so near your last gasp, I really should carry you."
Felicite giggled. She was a head taller than
he and outweighed him by half again as much.
"I'm just fine, Armand. You'll spoil me with
this treatment. It reminds me of your brother when we were
expecting our first."
"A little spoiling wouldn't hurt you," Armand
insisted.
She laughed. "Truly, I am getting used to my
delicate condition. I've been having a baby, just had a baby, or
having another baby for years now." She leaned forward as if to
whisper conspiratorially. "It seems to be something that I'm good
at."
Armand grinned back at her. "Along with
cooking, cleaning, sewing, and sister-in-lawing. Let's find you a
place to sit and rest awhile and I'll bring you something to
eat."
Jean Baptiste had been tying up the pirogue
and was still standing at the end of the dock, engaged in a deep
discussion with Emile Marchand. Armand didn't mind fending for
Felicite. As a single man in her household, he was routinely
provided good cooking, clean clothes, and a tranquil home life.
Armand was grateful to her for those things. He also simply liked
her ready wit and empathy for others. They were fine qualities in a
woman, qualities he someday hoped to find in the woman he chose for
his own bride.
An empty chair was finally located on the
north side of the house next to Madame Hebert. The woman, a close
friend of Felicite's, welcomed her eagerly, ready to talk. She was
one of Laron's many sisters and had his handsome good looks, plus
ten years.
"Doesn't he look slicked and pressed?" Madame
Hebert said to Felicite as she pointed in Armand's direction. "Must
be a lady on his mind."
Felicite nodded in agreement. "Yes, Yvonne, I
have to agree. When a man combs back his hair and puts on a clean
shirt of his own volition, there must be a woman on his mind."
Armand laughed and shook his head. "I only
dress for Saturday night, mesdames," he assured them. Unlike most
of the men present in their knee-length culottes, Armand wore
trousers. He thought that the longer pants made him appear taller.
"Even the most careless swamper shines up for Saturday night."
"So you have no interest in women?" Madame
Hebert asked, disbelieving. "My husband has a cousin in St.
Martinville. She is just turned fifteen and very petite I
hear."
Armand smiled broadly at her. "Perhaps I must
find an excuse to visit St. Martinville this winter," he said.
"He is planning a house," Felicite whispered
excitedly.
Madame Hebert's eyes widened and Armand would
have gladly stuck a stocking in his sister-in- law's mouth.
"I had not heard this," Madame Hebert
declared.
"He has just been talking and dreaming about
it with Jean Baptiste," Felicite explained. "When a man starts
thinking of having his own house, you know he must be thinking of
having his own wife."
Tutting with concern, Madame Hebert was
shaking her head. "Does my brother know this? Poor Laron wishes his
own house, I know. On his land it would look more like a bridge
than a home."
Armand laughed. "Your brother knows all about
it," he said.
"He will not need a house," Felicite pointed
out. "Once Laron and Aida are married, they will live with
Jesper."
Madame Hebert nodded. "Still a man always
wants his own house, does he not?"
"Laron can