Her Motherhood Wish. Keli Gwyn

      The adorable girl bobbed her head and started down the row, lifting her doll so she could see, too. He leaned against the bench, blocking Ruby’s view of the final tools, reached behind his back and spun the wooden mallet around. She approached, and he stepped out of the way.

      “Oh! This one’s upside down.”

      “Why, look at that! You’re right. Would you turn it around for me? It’s not too heavy.” And it wasn’t sharp, as the other tools were.

      Ruby righted the mallet and looked to him for approval.

      He squatted, smoothed a strand of her blond hair behind her ear and cupped the side of her soft face in his work-roughened hand. “You did a great job, princess.”

      Callie sighed. He looked her way, and his breath caught. Minutes before she’d been irritated with him, but now her entire countenance shone with admiration. And it was directed at him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to bring about such a transformation. He hadn’t changed his position on the need for safeguarding the children, but he would enjoy being in her good graces while it lasted.

      She caught him staring at her and smiled. “You’ll make a fine father one day, Chip.”

      So that was it, was it? She was pleased with the way he’d handled Ruby’s offer of help. He hadn’t done anything special, but Callie’s approval meant a great deal to him.

      Four rings of the dinner bell, the signal for a special event, brought the brief encounter to a close. She swept in to pick up Ruby and stood in one of the open corner areas between the benches. “We’ll have a good view from here, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to watching Mr. Chip work, aren’t you?”

      Callie’s enthusiasm eased the tension in Chip’s shoulders.

      A young boy about seven years old bounded in ahead of everyone else and plopped down in the middle of one the front row benches, facing Chip.

      “You were fast.”

      “I ran,” the boy said, breathless. “I wanted to get the best seat so I can see everything you do.”

      “You should be able to. What’s your name, son?”

      “Freddie. I got one of those animals you made. I wanna see how you do it.”

      “Ah, yes. You’re the one who asked Mama Tess what I’ll be making.”

      Callie walked down the row behind the lad and leaned close. “If you like working with wood, we can ask her to let you come help us one day. You’ll learn a lot from Mr. Chip. He’s very good.”

      Admiration and compliments? Was Callie sincere, or was she teasing him?

      He had no time to ponder the question because the other children entered the large room and took their seats on the benches. Jasper squeezed in next to Luke. A group leader had to settle a minor scuffle as two young fellows vied for the same spot, but as soon as Tess stepped into the center and clapped, everyone quieted.

      The tall woman smiled. “Thank you all for seeing to the after-dinner chores so quickly. Now you’ll get to watch Mr. Chip make something special. He won’t be able to finish it tonight, but he’ll get as far as he can. I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions, but he’ll need to concentrate, so you’ll have to save them until the end.”

      Freddie’s eagerness to learn had overcome Chip’s concerns about keeping the children quiet. “I remember having a hard time holding questions inside when I was a boy, so, if you’re agreeable, they can ask their questions while I’m working.”

      “Very well.” Tess turned her attention back to the children. “You may raise your hand to ask a question just as you will when you make a guess about what Mr. Chip’s making, but wait for me to call on you before speaking.”

      Freddie’s hand shot into the air.

      Tess chuckled. “He hasn’t even begun yet, Freddie. What do you want to know?”

      “That chunk of wood on your table is really big, Mr. Chip. How can you make a little animal out of it?”

      “This—” he patted the large round of white pine “—is for the statue I’ll be carving. I use small pieces of wood and different tools when I whittle a toy.”

      Callie spoke up. “Would you be willing to show us, if it wouldn’t take too long?”

      “Sure. I could whip out a small figure in no time.” And he knew just the one he’d make. He grabbed a scrap of white pine and his knife and set to work, sending chips flying.

      “I have another request.”

      He paused and looked at Callie. “Yes?”

      “If you could talk as you work, we’d all understand what you’re doing.”

      Talk and carve at the same time? He’d never done that, but he could give it a try. “I’ll do my best.” He kept his hands moving as he explained the process. “I’m using a knife to remove all the wood that isn’t part of the figure. That sounds simple, but that’s really what it’s about. I keep the image in mind and shave off everything that doesn’t belong.”

      He continued, describing and demonstrating the four basic cuts as he worked. The children sat quietly with not a single hand going into the air. He was finished in no time. “Since Miss Callie asked me to make this little fellow, I’ll give it to her, but I’m sure she’ll pass it around so you can all see it.” He handed her the creature.

      She laughed. “Why, thank you, Mr. Chip. I’ll think of you every time I look at this bullfrog.”

      One of the boys who’d been involved in the scuffle piped up. “Why’d ya make a frog for her? Ladies don’t like ’em.”

      Jasper rushed to her defense. “Miss Callie does. She even picks them up.”

      Chip hurried to take the focus off Callie. She was likely to bend his ear about his choice later. If he was correct, she’d had absolutely no intention of touching a frog that day and had mistaken it for a stone. He looked from Jasper to the other boy, who’d also spoken out of turn, and attempted a scowl, but he couldn’t stifle his smile. “Gentlemen, I didn’t see any hands go up, did I? I hope to soon, though, because I’m ready to start on the wood carving, and I look forward to hearing your guesses.”

      He began by tracing faint lines that wouldn’t be visible to those on the benches and explained how they would be his guides. With his mallet in one hand, he tapped the handle of the chisel he held in the other. As before, he kept up a running dialogue.

      A scant three minutes had passed when the first hand went up and Tess called for the guess. All he’d done so far was round off the top corners. “Is it a mountain?” a girl about Jasper’s age asked.

      “I’m afraid not.”

      He worked steadily but couldn’t help stealing glances at Callie. Her interest rivaled Freddie’s. She’d taken a seat on the end of a bench, with Ruby beside her, and was leaning forward, just as the curious boy was.

      With Callie’s lips parted like that, Chip thoughts wandered into dangerous territory, which wouldn’t do. All it would take was one slip of the blade, and he could do irreparable damage. He dragged his gaze from her and returned his attention to the creation taking shape.

      The guesses continued, none of them close. He’d been hard at work for a good thirty minutes when another hand shot up, this one belonging to Luke’s oldest sister. “It’s going to be a cowboy sitting on a fence, isn’t it?”

      “You’ve come the closest so far, Lila. I’m impressed.” Both Tess and her daughter beamed at his praise.

      Another five minutes passed with not a single guess. He stopped and scanned the benches. With the children, their group leaders and a curious ranch hand or two, some sixty-five pairs of eyes were trained on him. The room was so quiet he could almost hear the