A Wreath of Snow by Liz Curtis Higgs Read Free Book Online

her head, eying him more closely. “Black haired, all of them. Not relatives of yours, I imagine.”
    “No … no, I’m …” He hesitated one second too long.
    Margaret Campbell was facing forward now. “Pardon me,Mr. Gordon. I should have inquired about your surname long before this. Rather an awkward situation, I’m afraid.”
    Awkward?
Gordon’s limbs felt so weak he feared Tam might slip from his grasp.
Mr. Gordon
. How had such a thing happened?
Foolish question, Shaw
. He’d let it happen. Let her think he was someone else. A stranger worth knowing instead of someone her family despised.
    Do something. Say something
. “Forgive me, but—”
    A woman’s voice called out, “Miss Campbell, if I may?”
    When she turned to respond, Gordon had no choice but to do the same.
    The men carrying Mrs. Reid lumbered up. Both were red faced and breathing hard with their patient sagging between them.
    She peered at them from her wool hammock. “I fear my kind stretcher-bearers are in need of a respite.” When the men protested, she offered a faint smile but would not be dissuaded. Instead, she looked fondly at her son, then at Gordon. “Sir, might you find two other men willing to take a turn? It is a great deal to ask—”
    “Not at all, madam.” He took off at once, needing time to think, to find a way to undo what he’d done. More to the point, what he’d
not
done.
    The best solution was the simplest one. The instant he was alone with Margaret Campbell, he would tell her the truth:
Myname is Gordon Shaw
. He said those words every day of his life. Surely he could say them now when it truly mattered.
    She’d shared her name, hadn’t she?
Margaret
. Though he was not free to use her Christian name, he preferred to think of her that way.
Margaret
. A traditional name. It suited her.
    Your name suits you as well, Shaw. Say it
.
    His face hot, Gordon stamped up the line thirty yards until he located two fresh recruits willing to help. He led them back toward Mrs. Reid, trying not to jostle the child up and down as he went. But by the time they reached her, the boy was fully awake and crying for his mother.
    Well done, Shaw
. It seemed he couldn’t even look after a small child without making a hash of things. Gordon gently lowered the boy so his mother might comfort him face to face.
    “I cannot hold you just now, dear lad,” she told him, cupping his pudgy cheeks with her hands. “But you are being well taken care of by Mr.… ah …”
    When he didn’t answer quickly enough, Margaret said, “His name is Gordon.”
    The Reid woman beamed up at him. “Thank you again, Mr. Gordon.”
    He smiled through clenched teeth.
Shaw. My name is Shaw
. He could hardly state so now with a dozen people standing about. Margaret might be embarrassed, thinking the mistake was hers, and the others would surely be confused. Once thegroup dispersed and everyone was out of earshot, he would put things right.
    But Gordon hadn’t counted on little Tam Reid.
    Duly rested after his nap, the child bounced up and down in Gordon’s arms, then tried to capture snowflakes between his tiny mittens, all the while babbling away.
    “What a darling boy.” Margaret smiled at him as they walked, clearly enchanted.
    Gordon, meanwhile, was trying to keep his tweed cap out of the child’s reach lest he send it flying into the night. Minutes later when Tam nearly leaped into a snowdrift, Gordon decided the child needed to stretch his legs. He lowered him to the ground, then used a bag in each hand to corral the lad as they walked between the rails.
    The attempt was not entirely successful.
    After the boy stumbled several times and landed face-first in the snow, Margaret finally said, “Mr. Gordon, this will never do,” and swept Tam into her embrace. She brushed away his tears and soon had him giggling again. “My students are a few years older, but I believe I can manage one toddler. Isn’t that so, Tam?”
    Gordon groaned inwardly.