Mail-Order Haven by Linda Carroll-Bradd

Author:Linda Carroll-Bradd
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781940546230
Publisher: Inked Figments
Published: 2018-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Soft squeaky sounds filtered into Tavia’s dreams. Like the ones she’d heard while sitting in Clarice’s cozy parlor, knitting as she rocked in the aged wooden chair. Logs crackled in the fireplace, and the scent of pine filled the air. Only a few more inches and the scarf would be finished. Just the right size for one of the fort’s younger orphans.

Orphan. Her eyes shot open, and anguished memories of the stagecoach accident dissolved her dream. Glancing downward, she looked right into the dark brown eyes of sweet little Angela.

Blinking her long eyelashes, Angela stuffed her pointer finger into her mouth and sucked.

“Morning, little one.” Tavia couldn’t resist running a finger over the baby’s soft chubby cheek. “Are your noises what woke me?” Rolling to her back sent twinges along her right side, where she’d hit hardest when the coach overturned. “Ow.” A gentle rub of the aching muscle didn’t help much. “I could use a long soak in that big tub downstairs.”

Tavia glanced toward the connecting door, and then at the blazing sunlight shining through the window. Could be mid-morning. Fitz must already be up and gone. Tonight, she’d ask him about getting a clock for this room. Her wifely duties didn’t include sleeping late in the morning. Tavia scooted to the edge of the mattress and sat, dangling her feet as she came fully awake. The empty bottle no longer sat on her nightstand, which meant Fitz must have come into the room to collect it. And seen her while she slept, an intimacy that needed more contemplation. A shiver of anticipation slipped over her skin.

Quickly, she stood then reached to set Angela on the floor. She’d let the baby crawl around while she finished the task of putting away their belongings.

Angela babbled as she batted at the edge of the quilt drooping over the mattress then giggled when it swung toward her.

For just a moment, Tavia watched, glad the child could find enjoyment in such a simple activity. Then she dumped the contents of the satchel onto the bed, folded small dresses and nightgowns, and filled the top drawer with Angela’s clothes, holding back a diaper and soaker, a tiny undershirt, a dress, and socks for today. Next, she laid her own clean blouse, skirt, and chemise along with Angela’s items into the satchel, topping it with the knitted baby blanket. Her skin itched, and she couldn’t imagine putting on clean clothes until she’d had some type of bath.

Glancing between the satchel and the basin holding last night’s wet diaper, she wondered which she should take on the first time downstairs. Didn’t really matter because she’d have to make another trip for the item she couldn’t carry. “I will get good use of my legs living in such a big house.” She scooped up the baby, grabbed the satchel, and then headed toward the staircase in her stocking feet to figure out where her husband might be. “Let’s go see who we can find.”

A single place setting occupied the end of the dining table.

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