Teresa Bodwell Read Online Free

years. You won’t recognize her.” Clarisse brought two cups and saucers to the table.
    Miranda did a mental calculation. “I thought the baby wasn’t coming until winter, January or February?”
    “I don’t mean that she looks so different. I think it’s finally being a mama—has her glowing with happiness.”
    “I know it means a great deal to her.” Miranda’s heart squeezed tight as she recalled her own mixture of joy and fear when she had realized she was carrying a child. Of course, Mercy was a married woman, so it was different for her. “She’s wanted a baby for so long.”
    “Yes, you’re right. Though I don’t think it’s the baby coming, it’s bein’ a mama to Jonathan. If he were the only child Mercy ever had, she’d be happy.” Clarisse pulled the teapot from the buffet that displayed her china. The pretty pink rose pattern was one of the small touches of civilization Clarisse had imported to Fort Victory as the Wyatts’ business became successful. “Still, having a five-year-old boy to care for when you’re newly married, well. . . .” Clarisse poured some hot water to warm the pot. “As difficult as it’s been for them, Mercy and Thad have been good for Jonathan. He’s lucky to have them.”
    “It’s certain, then? They are keeping him?”
    “They’ve heard nothing from his family in Boston. As far as anyone in Fort Victory is concerned, the boy is their son. Mercy and Thad want to do things right and proper. They’ve applied to Judge Jensen for a legal adoption. He’s supposed to sign the papers when he’s in town next week. I’ve invited everyone here for a celebration afterward.”
    Mercy’s joy over finally becoming a mother was clear from her letters. After what Arthur Lansing had put Mercy through, some women would find it difficult to show compassion to his son. Miranda wasn’t surprised, though; she knew her sister.
    “Lansing loved his boy, but he didn’t have any idea how to be a father.” Clarisse set spoons and napkins on the table. “Thad is teaching the boy a world of things he never knew about.”
    Miranda touched the rim of the delicate china cup, wondering again about Thad Buchanan. There were good men in the world—her own father was proof enough of that. But she knew now that men like Pa were rare. Most men cared only about themselves.
    A great cry from the corner of the kitchen startled Miranda.
    “Sorry . . . little Hal never gives any warning, he cries out at full volume.”
    Miranda hadn’t noticed the cradle set where the sun beaming through the window would warm it. She blinked back a tear as she watched Clarisse lift the baby, soothing him with gentle cooing noises. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she reminded herself she had better get used to being around babies if she was going to be of any use to her sister.
    “Another boy?”
    Clarisse smiled at the tiny bundle in her arms. “I seem to be blessed with a houseful of males. You see why I’m grateful Mercy married my brother: now I have two sisters. Thad has told me he hopes their baby will be a girl. We’ve enough boys in the family already.”
    “What does Jonathan think about the new baby comin’?”
    “He can’t wait to teach his brother to fish and play marbles. Oh, you ask him—there’s a long list. And don’t try to tell him the baby might be a girl!”
    Miranda took a sip of tea. “I suppose he’ll be disappointed when the tiny infant is born.”
    “My brother has told him that their baby will be small and helpless like our Hal, but Jonathan still believes his baby will be different. Precocious you might say.”
    “A baby playing marbles would be quite a sight.”
    Clarisse laughed. “Yes—or puttin’ some bait on a fishin’ line.” She looked down at the infant in her arms. “He’ll feel differently when he sees her, or him. I remember how my Robert reacted to being a brother. At first he was disappointed that Tom couldn’t play with him, but it