Free KeepingFaithCole by Christina Cole Page B

not giving her back,”
he said in a quiet voice. “I’m going to keep her.”

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Lucille gasped. So did Miss
Christensen.
    “You can’t do that.” The
tall, gray-haired woman took a step toward him, her arms outstretched. “You’ve
got no way to care for her.”
    “I’m family, ma’am. The only
family she’s got. She needs to stay here with me. I’ll find a way to take care
of her.” Pushing past the spinster lady, he poked his head into the carriage.
“What all will I need? This hers?” he asked, pulling out a square canvas bag
with carrying straps. Inside, it contained what looked to be all the
paraphernalia needed for an infant. Glass bottles rattled as he slung the bag
over his shoulder. Tom hoped he hadn’t broken anything.
    Lucille touched his
shoulder. “I know you mean well, Tom, but Miss Christensen is right. You don’t
even have your own place. You certainly can’t keep a baby in a bunkhouse.”
    He nodded, realizing how
foolish the idea was. “No, of course not. But I can ask Ma to keep her. Just
until I’m able to make a few changes, get a place of my own.”
    “Your mother!” Lucille’s
voice shot up from a bare whisper to an outraged cry. “I’m not sure that’s a
very good idea.”
    “It’s a fine idea.” Tom drew
his niece closer. Despite the noise and confusion around her, she’d now closed
her eyes and slipped off to sleep. She nestled against his shoulder. “Ma’s made
mistakes, I know, but that’s all in the past. She’s come to Sunset looking for
a chance to have a better life. And now,” he said, pushing the blanket aside
and peering down at the baby, “this little one has come down from heaven,
looking for a chance of her own. Her mama didn’t make it, won’t be able to
raise up this gentle soul. Who better to do it than this baby’s own grandma?”
    “That’s a beautiful speech,
but there’s a lot wrong with it. I don’t think I have to point out the flaws in
your thinking. It would be a crying shame for you to keep her.” Lucille moved
closer. She gazed up into Tom’s eyes. “For the baby’s sake, you need to give
her back. You’ve got to give her a chance to be loved, a chance to be—”
    “You think I can’t love
her?” Tom fired back. The baby stirred in his arms.
    “A chance to be adopted by a
real family,” Lucille continued, paying no heed to his protests.
    Tom stiffened. Damn Lucille
to hell! In her opinion, he wasn’t a real man, he didn’t have a real home, and
he and Ma could never be a real family. Only thing real to Lucille was her own high- faluting opinions and self-righteous attitudes.
    Her words made him more
determined. Turning away from the dark-haired beauty, he fastened his gaze on
the tall, somber woman from the Children’s Foundling Home. He cleared his
throat.
    “You brought this baby here.
You delivered her to me, and I’ve accepted the responsibility. You’ve done your
job, ma’am.” Cradling his precious little niece in the wide crook of his left
arm, he lifted his right hand to tip his hat. “Have a safe trip back to
Denver.” Tom walked toward the bunkhouse.
    “Mr. Henderson, you can’t
take that child! There are legal matters to be resolved.” Edith Christensen
shouted after him, but he kept walking. “I’ll have the law on you, and don’t
think I won’t. It’s my duty to look after the welfare of the children placed
with me, and—”
    Tom stepped into the
bunkhouse. He shut the heavy door behind him, thankful that, at last, the
strident voice could no longer be heard.
    “I’m going to keep you,” he
whispered to the baby who now stirred in his arms. “Lord knows, I’m not sure
exactly what I’ll do with you, but I swear, I’ll bring you up right. I’ll take
good care of you, and I won’t let anything hurt you. I won’t let anybody ever
take you away.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Once the dour-faced Miss
Christensen finally returned to her carriage and instructed her