The Gift of a Child by Laura Abbot Read Free Book Online Page B

I’ve seen what a mob can do. Nothing uglier.” He flipped the reins to steer his mount to the right. “Good night, Seth.” Then he trotted off, without a backward glance.
    Seth watched his brother until he was out of sight. There was much he didn’t know about what Caleb had endured during his military career. It was painful to remember the eighteen-year-old who had ridden off to war with the enthusiastic patriotism and naïveté of youth. Seth continued to feel guilty that he had not joined the conflict, but his role at the family gristmill in Missouri had been critical.
    Supplying the troops was a form of service, too, but it had spared him from the brutality and bloodshed in which his brother had, perforce, been engaged. The wonder was that Caleb still had his feet so firmly planted on the ground.
    Although Caleb had told him few details of his army experiences, from things Lily had said, Seth believed his brother had spoken more openly with her and that such confidences, coupled with Lily’s understanding, had been redemptive.
    The setting sun lighted the trail back to the ranch. In a way, he envied the closeness of Lily and Caleb. It seemed they could talk about anything. They must have deep trust in one another, he reflected. He himself wasn’t much of a talker. Would there ever be a woman in whom he might confide his guilt concerning the war? His concern for Sophie? His sorrow at the death of his mother?
    Not likely.
    He was almost home before a sudden recollection speared his defenses. Rose Kellogg. A week ago Sunday. He’d talked with her about Sophie...about his mother, hadn’t he? Why her? He shook his head in bewilderment and spurred his horse. Such confessions made him feel exposed. Weak. It wouldn’t happen again.
    Settling comfortably in the saddle, he studied the rolling hills, veiled in twilight shadows. He didn’t know what it was about the land but it awakened deep feelings in him, probably born of his boyhood on their Missouri farm. From the blossoms of spring to the berries of summer to the tart apples of autumn, the place had been his kingdom. He and Caleb helped with whatever chores small boys could perform, then fished in the river, rode their ponies or aimed slingshots at hapless birds. A long time ago. Before the War Between the States. Years before they moved west to start the ranch.
    Boyhood freedoms were one thing. It was more difficult to think about the time his mother died.... Baby Sophie. By all rights, he should have hated her. She’d taken his mother. But Pa never saw it that way. He’d gathered Caleb and him around the crib the day after their mother’s funeral. “Boys,” he’d said in a choked voice, “your mama is gone, but she left us this gift from God.”
    After that, there was never any question. Anybody who remotely threatened their sister met Caleb and Seth’s wrath. But that didn’t happen often. Sophie was too loveable. She’d never in her life met anyone that didn’t interest her. Seth groaned. Charlie Devane. A talented construction man, courteous with a ready laugh. Why did thinking about the fellow cause him to grind his teeth? Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he knew, of course. Sophie liked Charlie. Really liked him. Seth always thought of her as his little sister, but she was of age. She could marry.
    He was stabbed by a pang of loneliness. Home without Sophie would be like sunshine blotted out by clouds. He didn’t want to think about it. He wouldn’t. Instead, he would focus on...the cattle herd. Calves. There. That was a safe topic. Something over which he could exercise some measure of control.
    Yet to his chagrin, cattle didn’t fill his mind at all. Instead, his thoughts once more turned to Rose Kellogg, to the blush suffusing her face when he complimented her cooking.
    Rose. A safer topic than Sophie, for sure. Wasn’t it?
    * * *
    What with the rain on Monday, followed by wash day, it was Thursday before Rose, Alf and her father could