“Why’s she still sleepin’?”
Nate turned to four curious faces. “She had a long trip. At the moment she’s not feeling too good, and needs extra sleep. Can I count on all of you to behave and be quiet?”
Mark snorted, picked up the baby, and holding her at arm’s length, left the room.
“We’ll be good, Papa.” John and Luke held hands and studied him, their little faces serious.
“Thanks, boys. I appreciate all the help I can get. And remember to help Angel when she’s up and about, okay?”
Two identical heads nodded agreement.
After cleaning up from breakfast, he dropped Julia-Rose off with Mrs. Darby and headed to town. Lord, I sure hope I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter 4
Angel turned her battered, sore body, and pulled the covers up further on her shoulders. A door squeaked, and whispers caught her attention.
“Ya think she’s dead?”
“Don’t know. Should we poke her?”
“No.” The whisper got louder. “Papa said let her rest, ‘cause she’s tired from her trip.”
“She looks dead. If she’s dead, Papa would wanna know.”
“No, see her top part? It’s goin’ up and down. That means she’s breathin’.”
She opened her eyes slightly, peeking through her eyelashes. Two identical little boys, hand in hand, stood at the doorway.
They both stared at her for a minute. “Ya think she makes good cookies?”
“Yeah. All mamas do.”
They both edged closer. “Maybe we should wake her up, so she can git started on some.”
As one boy reached out to touch her, the other grabbed his arm. “No. Papa would be mad.”
If she hadn’t been so tired she would probably have enjoyed the conversation. But with the sound of the twins banging into things as they tried to leave quietly, she fell back into a deep sleep.
Saturdays being a half-day in his shop, Nate was home by dinnertime. Silence greeted him as he opened the door. The boys were most likely playing outside somewhere under Mrs. Darby’s supervision. No coffee sat warming on the stove, no aroma of a cooked meal wafted in the air, and the dishes from breakfast were still piled in the sink. His shoes made a cracking sound as they stuck to the tacky kitchen floor.
He trudged up the stairs, and entered the bedroom. Angel was still asleep. She had turned over, so at least she wasn’t dead. When was the last time the girl slept?
The bed dipped as he sat at the edge and lightly touched her arm. “Angel,” he said softly.
No response.
He tried again, tapping her gently. “Angel, can you wake up?”
The young woman shifted on the bed and moaned slightly. He grinned, and shook her a little harder. His new wife shifted onto her back, and his breath caught at the sight of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Yesterday, with all the confusion, he hadn’t noticed them. She lay there, staring at him, blinking in confusion.
“How do you feel?” He shifted so he could see her better, and the movement placed his hip solidly against hers. A tingle swept through him with the connection, and he fought to ignore its meaning.
“Fine.” Barely a whisper.
He rubbed the new gold band on her delicate finger. “Are you hungry?”
She shrugged her shoulder. “A little.”