Ivy pulled back her bed sheets while Lillian pounced onto Josie’s bed. Lillian reached out to touch Josie’s hair. “Your hair is pretty.”
“Lillian!” Ivy snapped, her lips pursed in a scowl. “Don’t touch Miss Callahan’s hair.”
Lillian jumped back and lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”
Josie smiled, rubbing Lillian’s shoulder. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”
Lillian’s frown curved into one of her signature smiles—her mouth widening enough to expose the top of her gums. Lillian began rubbing the ends of her brown hair. “Miss Callahan, Pa says when you’re married, I have to call you by your first name, but I forgot.”
“It’s Josephine,” Josie answered.
The child’s eyes widened. “That’s alongname.”
Josie chuckled. “It is, but you may call me Josie.”
“Josie,” Lillian repeated with her blue eyes bulging. “I like it!”
Ivy huffed, falling back onto her mattress. “Lillian, come to bed. Let Miss Callahan rest.”
“All right, all right!” Lillian grumbled, rolling her eyes. She reached out, giving Josie a hug. “Goodnight, Miss Callahan.”
“Goodnight, Lillian,” Josie said in a soothing whisper, rubbing the child’s back. When Lillian pulled away, Josie turned her head towards Ivy, who was already tucked under the covers. “Goodnight, Ivy.”
Ivy didn’t respond. The covers rustled as they settled into their beds. Josie peeled back her quilt and went underneath. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath that filled her lungs with the comforting scent of fresh linen. It was the first time she had laid down all day, and as her body sank into the mattress, she let out a soft sigh. The tension in her back eased as it straightened against the supportive surface, and for a moment, she allowed herself to forget the day’s events, surrendering to rest.
Her eyes practically closed on their own, and she placed her hands on her midsection, bidding her little one sweet dreams. Within minutes, Josie’s mind settled enough for her to sleep.
However, her rest was interrupted by a small cry. Josie opened her eyes and sat up. The crying carried through the thin walls. She grabbed her shawl from the chair where she had laid it and pulled it around her.
Josie crept down the hallway until she opened the door to Travis’s bedroom, except Travis wasn’t there. He mentioned earlier he would be sleeping in the barn loft. She made her way to the crib, her heart softening at the sight of the tiny, wailing figure. She pulled Gideon up and sat in a rocking chair in the corner of the room.
“Shh,” Josie whispered, rubbing his soft head. “It’s all right.”
The baby quieted within moments as Josie cradled him against her shoulder, gently rocking him back and forth. Soon enough, his cries faded into soft breaths, and he fell asleep again. As Josie glanced up, she spotted Jonas fast asleep in his father’sbed, the covers tucked snugly around him.The boy sleeps like a rock.
Josie sighed as Gideon’s small, gentle breaths echoed through the silence. The moment was so peaceful, she didn’t want to leave the chair. She wanted to stay in that rocker forever, holding her soon-to-be son. What would it be like to hold the baby growing inside her? She had been so consumed with running away, she rarely thought about holding it in her arms.
Looking down at Gideon, she thought of Travis. Would her unborn child have a father to hold him or her too? However, that depended on how she acted Saturday night. Josie buried her face in Gideon’s shoulder. In this room, she’d deceive Gideon’s father. Her thoughts were sickening, but her concern for her unborn child outweighed her morals.
Aunt Tia’s voice echoed in her mind.What man is going to believe a woman who is so desperate to go west and marry a stranger with kids? . . . You’re too young and attractive.Josie had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to.
Josie kissed the sleeping baby’s head. “I’ll try my best with you, but I can’t promise, little one,” she whispered. “I’ll try to be your ma.”
Chapter Six
Travis’spulseracedwhilehe sat on the church’s front pew, waiting for Reverend Levingston. He didn’t know who to talk to about the situation, other than Aunt Polly, but she was a woman. What about a husband’s perspective? The reverend had children. Would he remarry for the sake of his children if his wife died? And what about the townsfolk? What would everyone think Sunday morning when he entered the church house with a new wife on his arm? Would they accept Miss Callahan?
Reverend Caleb Levingston entered through the church doors with his black leather Bible in hand, his chocolate-brown hair slicked behind his ears. He wasn’t much older than Travis, so Travis was confident he could ask for advice. The reverend, of all people, would know what to say.
Travis stood and shook the man’s hand. “I strongly appreciate you meeting with me.”
“No place I’d rather be,” Reverend Levingston said, patting his Bible. “Do sit down.”
Travis nervously fidgeted with the patch on his thigh, looking down as the reverend sat next to him. Travis curled his fists, trying to calm himself, but the throbbing in his mind continued. It seemed his head would explode from his thoughts. Not every day a man had to ask his pastor to officiate a wedding to a woman he barely knew.
“What brings you here today, Travis? You seem nervous.”
Travis scratched behind his ear. “Is it that obvious?”
