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However, as they were Nate’s in-laws, it might not be a good idea to squash them like a bug under her foot, right there in his parlor.

The back door slammed, followed by the clamor of Matt and Mark coming home from school. “Matt!” she called from upstairs. “Can you come up here a minute, please?”

Both boys raced up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Who’s that downstairs?” Mark said as they charged into the room.

She raised her eyebrows. “They’re your grandparents. Don’t you know them, either?”

“Nope. Never saw them.” Matt answered.

Best to leave that issue alone, and deal with the problem at hand. Walking quickly to the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, she reached for a scrap of paper and plucked a pen from the inkwell. “Matt, I need you to bring a note to your papa’s shop. Right now.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks.” She blew on the writing, folded the paper, and handed it to the little boy.

“Come on, Mark, go with me,” he said. They both turned and galloped down the stairs and out the back door.

She stepped over to the mirror and did her best to put her hair up again. She yanked off the dirty apron, threw it into a corner, and picking up Julia-Rose, returned to the parlor.

Mr. and Mrs. Belford had not moved an inch. Mr. Belford continued to pat Mrs. Belford’s hand.

“May I get you some tea?”

“No, thank you,” Mrs. Belford sniffed.

Mr. Belford cleared his throat. “Where is Nathan?”

Where do you think he would be in the middle of the day? “He’s at work in his gun shop.” Angel fussed with the baby on her lap. “I just sent a note to him to let him know you’re here for a visit. I expect him soon.”

Julia-Rose wiggled and pushed against Angel’s chest. Her way of letting her know she wanted to get down. The baby slid to the floor and smiled up at her. “Mama.”

Mrs. Belford grasped her throat and made a squeaking noise. Mr. Belford turned beet red.

They all sat in stony silence until Nate came home about twen

ty minutes later. Angel was about to scream at the silent disapproval emanating from the settee. When the front door opened, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hello, Louis.” Nate shook the older man’s hand. He nodded at Mrs. Belford. “Emily.”

He slipped his jacket off and sat next to Angel on the settee, resting a booted foot on his bent knee. He scooped Julia-Rose up from the floor and placed her in his lap. “What brings you to Oregon City?”

“As we explained to this young woman, we came to see our grandchildren. I assume that is an acceptable reason?” Emily Belford shifted in her seat.

Nate put his arm around Angel. “This young woman is my wife. And seeing as how this is only the second time you’ve come to see your grandchildren, you can understand why I question your visit.”

“Young man,” Mr. Belford sat forward. “We are appalled at the condition in which we find this house and our grandchildren.”

“How’s that?” Nate said, his voice low, his eyes narrowed.

“This woman answered the door, looking a mess.” The older woman jumped in. “Her hair was falling down, her apron dirty, and the baby had a wet diaper hanging off. And the boys were covered with jam. They obviously had been fixing their own food!”

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your grandchildren are doing just fine. Everyone’s healthy and happy. Angel and I recently married, so we’re all making adjustments.”

“Angel!” Mrs. Belford said. “What kind of a name is that for a respectable woman?” She looked at her as if expecting her to remove her clothes and run naked around the neighborhood.

Angel lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. “My name is Angelina Constanza Hardwick Hale.”

Nate’s lips twitched at her comment. “Louis, Emily, why don’t you relax, and stay for supper. You can spend some time with the children.”


Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical