The Bounty Hunter's Baby

She finished braiding and pinning up her hair. Thankfully, the baby slept on, and so did Thomas. They might’ve had a rough night, but somehow, as it always did, the sun came up, lifting Esther’s spirits. She could always cope better when the sun was up. It was at night that her cares and problems pressed in and swelled. The Bible verse about God’s mercies being new every morning came back to her.

“I could use some mercy right now, Lord. Thank You for the sunshine.”

And with sunup came chores. She wouldn’t worry about breakfast now, not with Thomas and Johnny finally asleep. Easing from the house, she paused for a moment to breathe in the fresh morning air. As quietly as she could, she rolled Thomas’s blankets and tied them, leaving them propped up against the side of the house. She couldn’t make herself touch the pistol.

Eight trips to the pump saw the washtubs and kettle filled, and she unpacked the bundles of laundry Danny Newton and his men had brought yesterday. If she could get a couple tubs of wash done first thing, she could use her afternoon to sew for Johnny. She smiled at how quickly the name had stuck.

Having kindled the fire under the kettle, she dumped Danny’s shirts into the water. Her woodpile was shrinking at a depressing rate. Soon she would have to head out into the mesquite thickets with her hatchet and lay in another supply, doing even more backbreaking work than bending over a scrub board. It was something she put off for as long as possible. She shaved a few slivers of homemade lye soap into her washtub, dipped some hot water from the iron kettle and got to work.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

She jumped and whirled, her hand to her chest. Thomas stood there, looking still half-asleep.

“You scared me, sneaking up like that.” Her heart raced. “Is the baby still asleep?”

“Yeah, though he’s getting restless like he’s going to wake up any minute.” Thomas yawned and stretched. “I wanted to be up at first light.” He frowned, and she smothered a smile. Lack of sleep obviously made him as cranky as a little boy.

“You needed some rest. It’s only been an hour or so since you dropped off.”

“You need sleep, too, but here you are scrubbing clothes and looking way too fresh and prettier than you’ve a right to, considering the night you just went through.” He rasped his whiskers, making a sandpapery sound so masculine Esther’s breath skidded in her throat. She knew she shouldn’t let him affect her, shouldn’t take his compliment to heart, but he’d never told her she was pretty before. Tucking that thought away to ponder later, she reached back into the washtub.

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