Linda Ford Read Online Free PDF

would ask her to assist him and Rosie in sorting out their differences.
    “I’d like to know if Rosie needs anything. Is she managing okay on her own?”
    Not the direction she’d hoped he’d go, but to know he cared so about others filled her with sweet admiration. “She has her hands full, especially when she goes shopping.” She told about her first meeting with Rosie and how his poor sister couldn’t keep a hand on everything. “Mattie saw the bucketful of shiny shovels, and I suppose he thought they would make good toys. What a clatter when the bucket tipped and they all fell to the ground. The storekeeper came rushing out to see what the racket was. I think everyone stopped what they were doing to look.” She laughed. “Poor Rosie didn’t think it very amusing, I’m afraid.”She thought of what Rosie really needed—to become more a part of the community instead of keeping so much to herself. But before she could voice her thought, Rosie tiptoed from the bedroom.
    “Were you two talking about me?” she asked.
    Buck sighed. “You were the furthest thing from my mind.”
    Rosie considered them suspiciously. “I heard you talking while I got the children to sleep, yet the minute I step into the room you are quiet as mice.”
    Buck grinned. “If you insist on knowing, I was telling her all the family secrets.”
    Rosie drew up hard and stared at her brother. Then she laughed, a nervous twitter of a sound. “I know you’re joshing. Serves me right for being so suspicious.” She turned to Kathleen. “Were you serious about helping me stitch a quilt top?”
    At last, something to do with her hands so her thoughts wouldn’t continually run off in silly directions. “Of course. Are you ready to get started?”
    Rosie fetched a basket of fabric pieces. “I thought to make one for Junior’s bed, but I don’t intend to take advantage of your generosity or anything.”
    Kathleen rubbed her hands together. “We can do this. Do you have a pattern in mind?”
     
    The women pulled out fabric and discussed different arrangements. Once they’d chosen a pattern, they cut out a number of squares, then Kathleen started stitching them together while Rosie continued cutting.
    “Where did you spend Thanksgiving last year?” Kathleen asked him.
    Guess it was too much for Buck to think their project would keep them occupied and allow him the privilege of watching the subtle changes in Kathleen’s expression as she chose colors and patterns and aligned the pieces. But he realized he didn’t mind talking about the past year. In most ways it was one of the best in his life, with Joey to look after and love. “The two of us spent it in a settler’s shack. The pioneer family had moved to town for the winter, and they were glad enough to have someone occupy their place.” No doubt such simple accommodations were something she would not rejoice over, but he’d been grateful.
    Kathleen and Rosie continued to work, but he felt their keen interest. “I really never gave Thanksgiving a thought until the owner of the place rode out with a bundle. Said his wife insisted he bring it to the two of us. I let Joey open it. You should have seen his eyes. I don’t think he could remember receiving gifts before. Inside was enough turkey for the both of us and plenty of mashed potatoes and gravy. There were two oranges and a toy whistle. We had us a real good day. Just the two of us.” He wasn’t sure why he kept saying it was only he and Joey, except he wanted to believe it was how he wanted things to be. Even to his own ears it sounded lonely. But he really did have something to be thankful for—a little son and a warm house, even though the latter was temporary.
    Thanksgiving was three weeks away. He shouldbe gone again by then, but only if he remained would Joey know a true family celebration. The temptation to stay was strong.
    “It sounds sweet,” Kathleen said, although her voice seemed tight, as if the words