Baby

bedroom for long, he would surely be getting hungry. He needed to get outside to eat. Thinking of Baby eating made her remember dinner. She would make her famous bean stew with fresh butter milk biscuits. And if they had enough flour left, she would make an apple cobbler, just the way her mama did. After all, they did not have company for dinner very often. Well, never actually. Smiling, she bustled around the kitchen until the sound of Mr. Capaccino’s voice drew her to his bedside.
    “Eh, Mrs. Doyle, I need, uh, I mean I need to, ah, where is your outhouse?”
    “Mr. Capaccino. You are much too weak to go out in the snow just yet. I can prepare something that will make do.” Crossing the room, she picked up a blanket and returned to his bedside. She looked down on his face, bright red with embarrassment, and said, “Mr. Capaccino, I have already seen everything you have.” Handing him a jar, she held the blanket up as he relieved himself. Taking the jar from his hand, she went to the door and dumped it off her stoop.

    After preparing a hot bath for Mr. Capaccino in her pig iron tub in the corner of the cabin, she helped him rise from the straw bed. She saw he was still unsteady but able to creep to the tub with her help.
    “Mrs. Doyle, if you please?”
    “Of course, Mr. Capaccino.” Modestly turning away, she found busy work in the kitchen. “Mr. Capaccino, I would be very pleased if you could join me for some tea and corn bread muffins when you are finished there.”
    “It would my pleasure, madam. Something sure smells good.”
    Netty hurriedly set the table for the two of them. She slipped into her bedroom to give her radiant lush hair a quick adjustment, sweeping it up again into a ponytail. Running to her bed, she lifted the covers to find Baby relaxing.
    “Sister’s face is red. Does Sister need my help?”
    “No, Baby, everything is just fine. I will be talking to our guest until bedtime. Will you please stay here? This is where you will be safe.” Netty then remembered. “Baby, do you need to eat? I can try to figure a way to sneak you out the door?”
    “No Sister, tomorrow will be fine.” And with that, Netty skipped out to the kitchen.
    She came upon Mr. Capaccino sitting patiently at the kitchen table, smiling expectantly at her. Her stomach did a flip flop as she quickly joined him. He had shaved his beard and regained some healthy color in his cheeks, making him look like an eager young boy. But as Netty well knew, he was clearly a man. Netty slowly poured the tea and passed the plate of muffins.
    “Mr. Capaccino, can you now please tell me what happened to you? What were you doing on my land?”
    “Mrs. Doyle, can you find it in your heart to call me Wil? I fear you know me much more than I intended.”
    “Of course Mr., ah, Wil, and you must call me Netty,” she said shyly, unable to meet his eyes.
    “Well, Netty, I was just passing through. Thought I would take a shortcut to town. My mare and I ran out of provisions. I do believe we became a tad lost. Seeing a fire through the woods, I thought to hale my fellow travelers.” He shook his head ruefully. “Next time, I sure plan to exercise more caution. The ambush did not take long. As I rode into the clearing, I got yanked off my horse so fast I jerked the reins right out of her mouth. They sat me on the ground with a rifle on me as they divvied up my money and my gear. I think the plan was to take my horse and shoot me but they were frightened off by a voice in the nearby field. I assume that may have been you, Netty. One of the bandits clubbed me in the face as he ran. Luckily, they left my horse and a lantern. The fire was of no use. Having placed it under a snow covered tree, the heat loosened the snow and quickly smothered the flame. We survived the night praying for your voice again. Hoping you would find us. I don’t know how long I was out, but my wish came true. You saved us, Netty.”
    “Oh, Wil … how terrible.” Placing her hands over his, she sighed, “And your poor wife, Maggie, she must be beside herself.”
    “Maggie? You know about Maggie?” Wil burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard, Netty jerked her hand back in surprise.
    “No, no, Netty.” Still laughing, Wil announced, “I am so sorry, I am not married to Maggie. She’s my horse. She is my girl, though .” With unexpected relief, Netty refilled their cups and got up to stir the evening stew. Attempting to hide her embarrassment, she