A Baby Between Them. Winnie Griggs

       It seemed he’d gotten her back up yet again. He raised his hands, palms out. “I wasn’t criticizing. It’s obvious how much you love that little girl and I’m sure you’re doing a fine job caring for her. It’s just rare that I see you without Grace nearby.”

       Nora’s feathers seemed a little less ruffled at that. “It’s just for today.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “You don’t think watching Grace will be too much for them, do you?” She’d lowered her voice so that it didn’t carry back to the kitchen.

       He smiled. “They’ll be fine.” Then, wanting to reassure her further, he added, “And if it makes you feel better, Agnes worked as a nanny for some very prominent families in Boston for a number of years. I hear she was quite good at her job.”

       Some of the tenseness left her shoulders. “That’s good to know.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I suppose you think I’m being foolish.”

       “I’d never dare think such a thing,” he said with mock seriousness. He was pleased when his teasing added a little spark to her expression.

       Cam took the hamper from her and offered her his arm. “The ground is slippery,” he said by way of explanation. “Ready?”

       She nodded and took his arm. He could almost believe the no-nonsense Miss Murphy was suddenly shy. Almost.

       They crossed to the wagon quickly, dodging puddles along the way. Cam made note of a number of maintenance issues that would need seeing to in the coming days.

       He helped her climb onto the wagon and, once she was settled, handed up the hamper and then sprinted to the other side. As he took his own seat he saw her pull the coat more tightly around her. The sudden urge to draw her closer—to protect against the elements of course—surprised him.

       He cleared his throat. “Sorry there’s no cover on this wagon. I’m afraid even with the coat you’ll be damp by the time we get to town.”

       She didn’t seem concerned. “It appears to be letting up now. And a bit of soft weather won’t hurt me.”

       “Soft weather?”

       “Back in Ireland, when the weather turned all misty and damp, which was quite often, we’d say we were having a soft day.”

       There was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were seeing her homeland in her mind. He flicked the reins, wordlessly directing the horse to turn the wagon back toward town. “Do you miss it much? Ireland I mean?” He kept his tone causal but he found himself tensing as he waited for her answer.

       She seemed to consider his question a moment before speaking. “It’s my birthplace and I have a lot of fond memories of growing up there.” She grasped the seat on either side of her and leaned slightly forward. “Ireland will always be a part of who I am. But near the end of our time there, there was so much sorrow and pain, so much loss and uncertainty, that I’m grateful to be here and have this chance for a fresh start.”

       She flashed him a smile so full of hope and promise that it took his breath away. “Only yesterday I was thinking how nice it was that this place—both Faith Glen and the cottage itself—already feels like home to me.”

       Her words warmed him, made him sit up taller.

       Not that he read anything special into them. He was merely glad to know his housekeeper was happy here.

       Cam brushed that thought aside and changed the subject. “Oscar Platt over at the livery has a wagon and horse for sale that I think might be just right for you. He’ll have it ready for you to look at after lunch if that’s agreeable.”

       Her brows drew down. “I thought I’d said to find me a pony and a cart.”

       Was she going to be stubborn about this? “I think the horse and wagon will work out better for you in the long run,” he said patiently.

       But she wasn’t appeased. “Sheriff Long, I understand that you think you always know what’s best, but I’ll have you know I have been making my own decisions for quite some time now.”

       He shook his head. No matter how many times he asked her to call him Cam, she insisted on using the more formal title of his office. But he did admire her spirit. “I’m sure you have, but that’s not the point. Oscar owes me a favor and he’s offering a good deal on the animal, which I am willing to pass on to you. You won’t find a better value for your money anywhere.” He raised a brow. “Unless you’re so set on a pony and cart that you’re willing to do without while you search for one? I suppose I can continue to worry about the Coulters for another few days.”

       She clamped her lips shut at that and they rode along in silence for a little while. When she finally spoke again, she surprised him by changing the subject. “I’d like to ask your opinion on a matter I’ve been mulling over the past few days.”

       So, she wanted his opinion on something, did she? And from her tone it was something of import to her. Best not to read anything into that, though. No doubt she turned to him because he was her boss and the town sheriff—an authority figure of sorts. Still, she deserved his full attention.

       He sat up a bit straighter. “Ask away.”

       “It’s a matter related to finances.”

       Was she worried about owing him for the horse and wagon? Or the repairs that were still needed on the cottage? The woman did have more than her fair share of pride. “Go on.”

       “I mentioned to you on Saturday that my sisters would like me to move in with one of them. Well, I’ve decided, much as I love my sisters, that I would definitely prefer to stay right where I am.”

       That didn’t surprise him at all. In fact it was the decision he would have predicted she’d make.

       “The thing is,” she said carefully, “in order to do so, I must prove to them, and to myself, that I can handle such a responsibility, both temperamentally and financially.”

       “Do you doubt that you can?”

       “I believe I have the temperament and skill to do it, of course. But I spent some time after services yesterday figuring out what monies I’ll need to provide for the basic needs of the four of us.”

       So, she considered the Coulters part of her responsibility, did she? Nora might have an excess of pride but she also had an excess of heart to match. “Perhaps you won’t need quite as much as you think.”

       She gave him that prim spinster-aunt look. “Oh, no, I’m quite good at figures. After Mother passed on, Da left me to handle the household finances.”

       Another responsibility she’d shouldered. How old had she been when she’d taken that one on?

       “Anyway, even being conservative,” she continued, “the figures were daunting. And I know that there’s not just food and everyday supplies to think about. I need to consider the repairs that still need to be done to the house and now to the barn.” She raised a hand. “Whatever you were planning to say, please don’t. I simply cannot let you continue to work at the cottage without pay.”

       She shifted in her seat. “There will be the added expense of the—” she paused a moment and eyed him primly “—the wagon animal to see to.”

       Still smarting over his insistence on a horse, was she?

       “And while I am quite good at stretching provisions if I do say so myself,” she sat up straighter, a proud lift to her shoulders, “I need to make certain there is sufficient food on the table each and every day for four people.”

       No doubt about it, in spite of her prickly exterior, Nora Murphy had a nurturing streak a mile wide. But where was she going with all of this? “If you don’t think I’m paying you enough—”

       She shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no, I’ve no complaints on that account. The wage you pay me is more than generous, and, the Good