Mail-Order Christmas Baby by Sherri Shackelford

Author:Sherri Shackelford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The days following her sickness were a revelation to Heather. Sterling and Gracie had developed a routine during her illness. The two of them were like siblings, fussing with each and then making up again. Sterling had taken over her care with an effortless proficiency that sparked Heather’s envy. Her own transition into parenthood had been far rockier.

She set a cup of milk before the child, and Gracie pushed the cup away. “No. Pa.”

Heather frowned. “Don’t fuss. Drink your milk.”

Gracie had mastered the rudiments of using a cup. She wasn’t particularly neat and tidy, but she managed.

Crossing her chubby arms over her chest, Gracie stubbornly shook her head. “No.”

“Suit yourself.” Heather shrugged and tended to the flapjacks cooking on the flat griddle she’d placed over the two front burners. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you this morning.”

Sterling appeared in the doorway, his hair damp from his morning ablutions. “Good morning, ladies.”

Gracie held out her arms and opened and closed her pudgy fingers. “Papa.”

“How’s my best girl?” He approached the table and lifted her glass. “What’s in here? Let me see.” He held the cup to his ear. “Moo!”

Gracie threw back her head and laughed, then smacked the table with both hands. “Moo.” She reached for the cup and took a long drink. A white mustache decorated her upper lip when she pulled it away.

Heather watched the proceedings in amazement. “Is that how you get her to drink her milk in the morning?”

He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Seems to work.”

He took his place at the table across from Gracie. Heather dried her hands on her apron and reached for the bundle Otto had brought over earlier.

“The Valentine Gazette arrived.”

Sterling snapped open the paper. “Let’s read the news of the day. What have we got here? ‘Washington, November 17—for the upper Mississippi and lower Missouri Valleys, rising weather conditions followed by stationary or lowering barometer, northerly winds, stationary or higher temperature and clear or partly cloudy weather.’ Isn’t that something? A fellow can get paid a living wage for predicting that the weather will be clear or cloudy, and the temperature will change or stay the same. I should have gotten a job writing the weather for the newspaper instead of raising sheep.”

Gracie giggled. “Ma.”

“You’d like me to read more?” he asked.

“Ma!” Gracie demanded.

Heather held her spatula aloft, watching the pair as Sterling read snippets of the newspaper as though he were reading a childhood story. His voice wove a tapestry around the two of them, and she might as well have been a picture on the wall for all the attention they paid her.

As she watched the pair, jealousy sparked in her chest. She’d never once thrilled Gracie with her reading of the stock prices. The two of them didn’t have a ritual before the morning breakfast. Sterling was annoyingly adept at effortlessly entertaining the child. Her eyes burned, and she fought back the unbecoming emotion. She was being perfectly ridiculous. There was no reason to deny them their fun simply because she wasn’t included.

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