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Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness
Dr. Baker rode up to the Ingalls' place. He felt at least 10 years older than he really was, the weight of his task hanging heavy on him. He climbed out of his buggy and walked up to the front door. Dusk was falling and the golden light from the lamps inside the cozily-built home gave it a welcoming warmth. The doctor took a deep sigh-he hated to give such bad news.
Just as he was about to knock, Charles Ingalls opened the door and seeing Doc Baker, smiled broadly. "Hiram, I thought I heard someone pull up. Good to see you but no one's sick here!" Charles laughed and stood aside holding the door open. "C'mon in. We're just sitting down to eat. Come. Join us."
"Why, thank you but I didn't come for dinner." Doc Baker stepped inside the house and saw Caroline and the girls sitting at the dining table, Charles' chair pushed back.
Caroline stood up, smiling. "Nonsense," Caroline said, "at least stay for a cup of coffee."
"Well, if it's not too much trouble…" Doc Baker was hungry. He hadn't eaten since lunch and it was now about 7:00 in the evening. His stomach pained him with hunger when he smelled the savory stew that Caroline had on the stove.
"No trouble at all," Charles said. "here, take my seat." Charles pulled the chair out even more for the doctor and pulled up a side chair for himself. They all managed to fit, their legs touching occasionally under the table.
"Good evening, girls," Doc Baker said to the three Ingalls daughters. They responded in kind.
Caroline put a bowl of the hot stew in front of the doctor. His mouth watered.
"And help yourself to biscuits," Caroline said, sitting back down.
"Doc Baker," Laura asked, "aren't you going to wash your hands?"
"Laura," Caroline said, "it's not your place to say anything critical to an adult."
"No, no, she's right," Doc Baker said, "I'm always pushing cleanliness as way to keep healthy. And you're absolutely right, Laura, I should wash my hands. Especially if I'm going to have any of your mother's melt-in-your-mouth biscuits! I may even want to lick my fingers!" The girls laughed at the picture of Doc Baker licking the food off his fingers as they did.
"Well, whether that be so or not," Charles said, looking disapprovingly at Laura, "children should be seen and not heard when company is over."
Doc Baker returned to the table and everyone continued eating.
"Good stew, Mrs. Ingalls," Doc said. "best I've had in a long time."
"Well, thank you," Caroline said. "So what brings you out our way?' Caroline was curious as to why Dr. Hiram Baker would stop by their place this late in the evening. It couldn't be for a free meal.
"Well, I've been at the Sanderson's place and just swung by here to see Charles." Doc didn't look up from his stew.
"Oh?" Charles said. "Anything I can do for you?" Charles was curious. It wasn't as if his place was between the Sanderson's and his; Doc had to go quite a bit out of his way to stop by the Ingalls' place.
"We can talk later," Doc said. But the way he said it made Charles' suspicious; he felt it would be bad news.
Caroline wanted to ask how everyone was at the Sanderson's but she knew that Maribeth, the seventeen year daughter of Abraham Sanderson, had become in the family way without benefit of marriage and she didn't want the subject raised around her daughters. The girls knew Maribeth too well; a little less than a year ago, Maribeth had come over to help clean the house and cook when Caroline had fractured her arm. They had come to love her dearly, all of them. Caroline didn't want the girls to ask about Maribeth.
So instead Caroline stayed quiet and Doc and Charles talked about the weather and how it was most salubrious; everyone was flourishing and Doc Baker said that he would soon go out of business if someone didn't become sick soon!
TBC
Dr. Baker thanked Caroline for a delicious meal and as she and the girls cleaned up after dinner, Charles walked Doc Baker to his carriage. It was getting on to 8:00 and Charles felt that he had waited long enough.
"Well, Hiram, what was it you needed to see me about?" Charles stood patiently while the doctor climbed into his carriage and settled on the seat.
The doctor sighed deeply. "Charles, as I said, I came from the Sanderson's to here. Maribeth was delivered of a little girl, a healthy, beautiful, little girl but I'm sorry to say that Maribeth may not make it. I'm going out early tomorrow morning to check on her. Mrs. Neeves is staying overnight-she helped me with the delivery-but Abraham is distraught, her being his only child and all."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Charles said. "we're all very fond of Maribeth. I'll break the news to Caroline and the girls. We'll visit Abraham tomorrow-maybe Caroline can help."
"Charles," Hiram said, "there's more." He looked down at his hands. "Maribeth said that you're the father of her child."
"What?' Charles was shocked. There would be no reason why Maribeth would say such a thing. Granted, she had been fond of him but then she had been fond of all of them. And Maribeth had said that the time she spent with the Ingalls had been the best time she could remember since her mother had died, but he and Maribeth had never had a relationship beyond friendship. "I can't believe that Maribeth would say such a thing. Of, course, you know it's not true."
"Of course I know it's not true," Doc Baker said. "At least I don't want to believe it's true but the girl did say it on what could be her deathbed. People will believe her, Charles. I know Abraham does." Hiram looked at the pained and surprised look on Charles' face; he looked as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water on him.
"I'm going over there," Charles said, turning to leave.
"I wouldn't recommend that," Hiram said.
"Why not? I have a right to face my accuser. And you said that Maribeth may not make it through the night. I have to talk her into telling them truth." Charles felt outraged. How could anyone accuse him of such a heinous act. He would never do such a thing as to have relations with a child and to be unfaithful to Caroline. He was a God-fearing, Christian man.
"Because if you go over there, Abraham will blow your head off before you even get a chance to step inside the house. Besides, Charles, you can't go and badger a young girl who may be dead by morning. Stay here, Charles. Stay here and break the bad news to Caroline. With Mrs. Neeves there and having heard it, it won't be long before everyone knows who Maribeth named as the father." Doc Baker backed up his horse and buggy. "Oh, and just in case you were wondering, Maribeth named her daughter Charlotte."
Charles stood stunned. Doc Baker drove away and Charles still stood in the moonlight.
TBC
Caroline couldn't sleep. Charles had told her what Doc Baker had said and she couldn't believe that Maribeth, that sweet, young girl who had spent the days with them for those few weeks, would make such a terrible accusation against her husband. But in the back of Caroline's mind was a small nagging doubt-what if it was true? What if one of those nights when Charles had driven Maribeth home, he had stopped the wagon and…Caroline flushed. What kind of wife was she to even consider that her husband might do such a thing?
And how people would talk! What about the girls? Caroline had asked Charles about the gossip and the taunting Mary and Laura would get from the other children. Why the other children would say horrible things to them and then there was Mrs. Oleson! Caroline became flushed with embarrassment just thinking about the smug expression on Mrs. Oleson's face the next time they met. And how could they enter the church with everyone thinking that Charles had fathered Maribeth's child?
Charles told Caroline that they would go on as if nothing had happened; he hadn't committed any sin or crime and he wasn't going to hide out like some guilty man. In the morning, Charles had told her, he would explain to the girls that they might hear some unkind things at school but that they were to go on as if all was normal. If they wanted, they had his permission to miss recess and could stay inside the schoolroom-he would write a note. And he would come pick them up from now on if there was a problem walking home. The he turned over in bed and soon, Caroline could hear him softly snoring.
Nevertheless, Caroline worried; she tossed and turned all night and barely slept and when she dozed off for short periods, she had troubling dreams that tormented her.
It was late morning when Doctor Baker and Reverend Alden pulled up at the Ingalls' place. Caroline came out to greet them but her heart fell when she saw the serious looks on their faces. They asked for Charles and Caroline told them that he was out in the field. Doc Baker said that he would go out to find him and Reverend Alden climbed down from the buggy and Caroline invited him in for coffee.
Caroline put the cups and saucers down on the table and poured the coffee. "Sugar?' Caroline asked.
"Yes, thank you," Reverend Alden said. This was the first time that he could remember being uncomfortable around any of the Ingalls but he really didn't want to be there; it was his duty thought to tend his flock and he looked at Caroline, at her sad expression and he knew a lost lamb when he saw one.
"Have you been with Doc to the Sanderson's?" Caroline asked, not looking up from her coffee.
"Yes. Sadly, Maribeth died this morning." Reverend Alden couldn't think of an easier way to break the news.
A sob escaped from Caroline and she put her head on her crossed arms and collapsed into tears. She cried for Maribeth-so young to have died-and for Charles because now Maribeth would never be able to clear his reputation and for Mary and Laura and Carrie….and for herself. The Reverend reached over and patted her head as if she was a child. He didn't know how to comfort her.
The door opened and Charles and Doc Baker walked in. Immediately Charles went over to Caroline and she stood up and fell into his arms. He patted her comfortingly.
"Maribeth died," Caroline managed between sobs.
"Yes," Charles said," Doc told me."
"Let's all sit down a moment," Doc Baker said. "There's something we need to tell both of you."
Charles and Caroline sat down, his arm still around her shoulders, her crying calmed.
"As her last dying wish," Reverend Alden said, "Maribeth asked that you, Charles, raise her child with your other daughters."
"What do you mean, 'other daughters'- I'm not the father," Charles stated, his voice quavering. How could he get them to believe that he wasn't the father of Maribeth's child. Despite what she had said, despite that Maribeth had been on her deathbed, she had lied-lied about him and he could find no reason why she would want to destroy his life from beyond the grave.
"Charles," Reverend Alden said, quietly, "I believe you but Maribeth never wavered in her story; she still insists that you're the baby's father. So I ask you, in the name of Christian mercy to take the child. Abraham said that he doesn't want the 'wages of sin' in his house and so Mrs. Neeves has taken the child for the time being but, Caroline, could you find it in your heart to take the child, Charlotte, until we, that is the Doctor and I, can decide what to do? We can't really expect you to adopt her."
Caroline looked at Charles. "No," Charles said. "If we take in the child it will only confirm the rumor that she's mine. We can't. I don't want to be cruel but I don't see how you can expect Caroline and me to take in Maribeth's child after her unfounded accusation."
"Charles, " Caroline said, "maybe we should consider…"
"No, Caroline." Charles was adamant. "It's no concern of ours." Then Charles turned to his guests. "Thank you, both, for coming to tell us the news but I will raise my own daughters-not a stranger's."
Caroline knew not to disagree with her husband when he was like this but her arms ached to hold the baby, whether she was Charles' child or not. The thought of a poor motherless child brought out her maternal instincts and she decided that she would try to convince Charles to take in the child.
TBC
After Caroline saw the girls off to school and packed Charles off with his lunch wrapped in oiled paper, she hitched up the buggy and rode to Mrs. Neeves' ; she wanted to see Charlotte, Maribeth's baby. And when she pulled up, Mrs. Neeves opened the door and invited her in, obviously glad to see Caroline-more like relieved.
"I suppose that you've come for the baby," Mrs. Neeves said. "I'm far too old to be tending to an infant and Mr. Neeves, well he didn't take too well to Charlotte waking us up last night."
"Well, actually…" Caroline didn't know what to say and then she realized that she did want the baby, that she ached to hold baby Charlotte in her arms. "Yes," Caroline said, "I did come for the baby."
Mrs. Neeves gladly packed up the baby's few belongings, a blanket, two bottles, diapers and a few pieces of clothing that a neighbor had donated. Mrs. Neeves confirmed that Charlotte was a good baby; she only cried when she was uncomfortably wet or hungry but that the child seemed to have the nature of an angel. And when Caroline held the infant in her arms and smelled the clean baby smell that infants always have, tears came to her eyes; she wanted the child. So the two women packed the baby in a basket and Caroline drove off with the infant sleeping on the seat next to her.
When the girls came home from school, they made a fuss over the baby. Mary insisted on rocking Charlotte and giving her a bottle and Laura stood next to the rocking chair, holding on to a spindle, and argued with Mary that they should take turns rocking the baby.
"Is she our sister?" Laura asked. "That's what the kids at school are saying." Laura looked at her mother.
"Of course, she's not our sister," Mary said bluntly. "Pa told you they were going to be saying that but he said it's not true so it's not. Pa doesn't lie." Mary pursed her lips. She knew to believe her father no matter what others might say. Mary was old enough to know that people often said things just to be cruel and that if a person responded to teasing, it just became worse. So Mary ignored the teasing that she had received yesterday and this afternoon, there had been less. Soon, Mary knew, there would be none.
"Well, then why are we taking her?" Laura asked her mother.
Caroline looked at Mary and Laurie who were both waiting for her answer.
"We're taking her because her mother is dead, and as sad as that is, it's even sadder that a child has been left without a mother. So until someone comes along to adopt Charlotte, well, we're going to take care of her. And," Caroline said as she stood up, "I certainly will need the help of all my girls.
"Me, too?" Carrie asked hugging her mother's knees.
"Yes," Caroline said, reaching down to caress her youngest daughter's head, "especially you. You see, you're going to be the one who will be her specific big sister." Carrie looked up at her mother and smiled and hugged her mother's knees again.
"I'm a big sister now, ain't I, ma?" Carrie asked.
"Yes, you are, Carrie, but don't say ain't-it's "aren't I?' Now, who's going to help me peel some potatoes for dinner?' Caroline smiled at her beautiful three daughters and maybe her fourth. But when she thought of what Charles would say when he saw the baby in his home, Caroline didn't even want to consider.
TBC
Charles was so upset with Caroline that he didn't speak. Mary and Laura looked at each other; having their father so quiet and with that angry expression on his face was something they had never before experienced. And he didn't even want to look at Charlotte. None of them, even Carrie who babbled about being a big sister, could understand that.
They ate in silence and then Charles went out to the porch to smoke his pipe. The evening was chill and Caroline offered him a crocheted throw for his shoulders but he just glared at her and went out.
"What's wrong with Pa?" Laura asked her mother as she washed the dishes.
Mary, who was drying the dishes said, "It's probably because we don't have the money to pay for another person in the family, isn't that right, Ma?"
Caroline smiled gently at Mary. She so loved this peace-making daughter of hers. "Probably, Mary. Or it may have nothing to do with Charlotte at all. Your Pa has quite a bit to worry about without us pressing him for reasons for his moods. Now, Mary, you finish washing and, Laura, you dry while I go see if your father wants some coffee,"
"Okay, Ma," Mary said, taking over. She didn't particularly like washing but her mother had finished almost all of them so she wouldn't have much more to do. "Here, Laura, take the towel."
Caroline went out to the porch and stood by Charles who was staring into the darkness. "Charles, tell me your mind."
Charles looked at his wife. He rarely became upset with her but she had defied his wishes and gone behind his back to retrieve this child, this child who was the source of his sullied reputation. He hadn't yet gone into town since the child was born but he wondered what the reception would be when he did and what Caroline had done would only make it worse-he was furious.
And Caroline knew he was. This cold, distant anger of his, she feared. Only once before in their marriage had she seen this anger and that was when, years ago, they were told that the land they lived on wasn't theirs and that they had to leave. Charles had invested two years and much sweat and labor into the land and Caroline knew that it was the one time that Charles had become angry enough to kill. Oh, he had been in a position before where he would have killed out of a need to survive or to protect his family, but never before out of anger.
"All right, Caroline,: Charles said, leaning forward. "You defied me. I told you that we wouldn't take the child. She is not mine. She has a grandfather and despite his not wanting her, the child is his responsibility. Also, by taking in the child, you have only given credibility to the story that I'm the father. That makes me think that you may very well believe it. I want the child gone tomorrow. If we have to drive to the nearest orphanage, we will." Charles sat back down and took another puff on his pipe.
"Charles Ingalls," Caroline said, "You are a pompous, hypocritical, arrogant man!"
Charles looked at his wife in stunned silence. She had never spoken to him that way.
"How can you call yourself a Christian when you are wiling to turn your back on an innocent babe because you are worried about your reputation? Where is your charity? Where is your humility? Moses himself was a babe in the bull rushes and look what he effect he had on the world. How can you be so cruel as to abandon this babe who needs a loving family?"
Charles dropped his head; she was correct-his wife usually was. Charles looked at her and stood up and took her gently in his arms. "You're right, Caroline," he whispered. "You're right. If God has sent this child to us, well, who are we to try to thwart the ways of Him. We don't know God's plan for us. I have always tried to believe that things happen for the higher good," Charles said moving back and looking into his wife's face, "such as giving you to me." He smiled gently and Caroline returned a smile of mutual love.
"Now," Charles said, putting his arm around Caroline's shoulders, "show me the newest Ingalls."
TBC
Maribeth's father, Abraham, buried his daughter quietly. No one was there except him, Reverend Alden and Mts. Neeves and someone who hid silently in ther brush, not allowing himself to be discovered. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as the Reverend spoke his words ushering Maribeth's soul to heaven.
For the first time since the news broke, Charles had gone into town and as he had suspected, people were polite yet distant. All except for the Oleson's. Mrs. Oleson was just bristling with a sense of superiority. She had always suspected, she had told her husband when the story that Maribeth had named Charles as her child's father broke, that Charles and Caroline Ingalls weren't the good Christian couple they always appeared to be. And she said, hadn't Maribeth helped the Ingalls when Caroline had hurt her arm? And didn't Charles drive her home every night-alone? And wasn't that about nine months ago? Nels just looked at his self-satisfied wife and sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, what she said made sense. But still, Nels knew Charles as one man can know another and tell their character much better than any woman could and he doubted the story. Despite the fact that Maribeth was dying which was the only thing that made it believable at all, he couldn't accept it.
And because of that, when Charles came into their mercantile, Nels hurriedly pushed his wife out of the way and helped Charles himself, and Charles was grateful that Nels treated him the same way as he always had, with good grace and friendliness.
Charles was considering how the future would be in Walnut Grove for him and his family as he drove the buckboard home. He had just driven over the bridge when he felt a sharp pain in his back and a force that knocked him over. He fell on his side and tried to right himself but the pain was overwhelming so he lay quietly hoping it would pass. He closed his eyes as the pain became worse, not better, and he felt a sticky wetness on his chest and his arm, running down to his hand. He opened his eyes and was surprised to see blood-quite a bit-and it was then that Charles Ingalls realized that he had been shot. He had never even heard the retort of the gun.
Caroline was anxious; Charles was late. He should have been home already and now it was dark. She had fed the girls and they were doing their homework when Caroline heard the buckboard. She went out on the porch and was shocked to see Doc Baker sitting on the seat and Mr. Taggert driving it. She ran out to look in the back and saw Charles lying on a quilt that has been thrown in the back beside the sack of flour and salt and the other items Charles had purchased. Mr. Taggert and the doctor helped Charles into the house and while Caroline hushed the girls who stared in horror, they took Charles to his bed.
Doc Baker explained to Caroline that Mr. Taggert had heard a rifle retort and had found Charles slumped in his seat, shot in the upper left shoulder. Mr. Taggert had driven the buckboard to Doc's office where he had cleaned and dressed the wound. The bullet had luckily gone clean through and should, if Caroline kept the wound from infection, heal properly. Charles should stay in bed for at least a week, Doc Baker said, and should keep the arm idle for at least a month, better two.
"I won't be able to keep him in bed for that long," Caroline said, "unless I tie him down."
"Then tie him down," Doc Baker said as they all walked out to the front porch.
"Don't worry," Mrs. Ingalls," Taggert said, "I'll come over every afternoon to help with the crops. I got time after all my work is down in town."
"Oh, Mr. Taggert," Caroline said, "I can't ask you to do that." Her mind was racing trying to think of how she was going to do everything around the place herself.
"Now don't you worry," Taggert said. "It's the least that neighbors can do for one another and Charles helped me when my back was out last year and I couldn't handle them sacks at the livery."
Caroline smiled her thanks. Then she asked the question that no one had bothered to raise: "Who shot him?"
Doc Baker and Mr. Taggert looked at one another. Then the doctor said, "We don't know Caroline. Mr. Bronson has gone to Parson's Way to ask the sheriff there what we should do. Nothing like this has ever happened here before and although it might just be a bullet gone astray from someone hunting and they're just afraid to come forward since they shot someone, we can't rule out the fact that it might be intentional-that someone may have tried to kill Charles."
Doctor Baker and Mr. Taggert refused to look at Caroline.
"You think that it might be Abraham Sanderson, don't you?" Caroline looked at the two men. Even if they didn't think it, she did. Who else could hate Charles this much?
"Now, Caroline," Doc Baker said, "let's not jump to any conclusions. Let's just wait and see what the sheriff says." And with that, the doctor and Mr. Taggert untied their horses from the back of the buckboard and rode off leaving Caroline standing on the porch in the darkness.
TBC
Charles lay in bed, still drowsy from his last dose of Laudanum when a tall man wearing a sheriff's badge entered his room with Caroline.
"Charles," Caroline said, "This is Sheriff Dowell from Parson's Way. He wants to ask you some questions." And then she walked out and left the two men alone and went back to her work. But as she worked, she wondered what the two men were saying.
Charles answered all of the sheriff's questions and told him everything that he remembered from the day when he was shot. Charles said that although his wife and his friends were certain that it was Abraham Sanderson who had shot him, Charles joked that Abraham was an excellent marksman and had it been he, Charles would be dead. The sheriff laughed and said that despite Charles' appraisal of Sanderson's abilities, he would go to see Sanderson; Walnut Grove was out of his jurisdiction but if any evidence pointed to Sanderson as the culprit, he would wire the U.S. Marshall to come out and take Sanderson into custody.
So Charles and Caroline waited and they tried to carry on as if all was normal for their children's sake. Charlotte actually became a joy to them. She was an alert child who pumped her little arms whenever the girls cooed to her or held her in their arms. Laura and Mary both swore that Charlotte understood everything they said to her and Caroline laughed and said that Charlotte was just an infant and far too young to understand anything yet. But even Charles asked to be able to kiss the child good-night before Caroline put her down for the night.
Then, the sheriff from Parson's Way stopped by again and told them that he had tried to find out everything that he could but there was nothing to connect Abraham Sanderson to Charles' shooting except his daughter naming Charles as the father of her child and the fact that Sanderson has a freshly cleaned and oiled rifle. But a man taking care of his weapons wasn't evidence of anything except conscientiousness. So Charles thanked him for his time and the sheriff left.
Later that afternoon, the Ingalls had two more visitors-Vidal Rene and his son Etienne, or as they called him, Steve. The father asked if he and his son could talk to both of the Ingalls privately, and since the girls were in school, Caroline said that, yes, they could but first she asked if she could offer them coffee but they declined. Both father and son held their hats in their hands and Caroline led them to where Charles was lying.
"Mr. Ingalls," Mr. Rene said in his thick French accent, "My son, Etienne, is responsible for your injury but, thank merciful God, not your death. Go ahead, Etienne, tell Mr. Ingalls."
Steve stood with his head hanging. He couldn't meet Charles' eyes. His father pushed him slightly and Steve glanced back at his father and then spoke. "Mr. Ingalls….I'm Charlotte's father, not you."
Charles and Caroline exchanged glances. Now it was all making some sense. Caroline had told Maribeth that Steve Rene wasn't to come around their place when Maribeth was helping out. Although, both Laura and Mary, tittered and giggled whenever Steve was around-he was a handsome boy and both of her girls would follow him around as he helped Marybeth with any heavy chores-it wasn't for that. Caroline asked that he not come around because once she saw the two of them come out from the barn together and there was something about their posture and they way they were talking that made her uneasy. Maribeth didn't argue; she just told Caroline that Steve wouldn't be around anymore, that she had told him just this afternoon not to be back.
"Just this morning," Mr. Rene continued, "Etienne told us the whole story. I am ashamed of my son, Mr. Ingalls, but it is probably more my fault than his; I spared the rod and this is the result. Go on, Etienne, tell Mr. Ingalls the rest."
"Yes, Papa," Etienne said, glancing back up at Charles and for the first time, Steve met his eyes. Steve knew that from this moment on, he had to behave like a man. "Maribeth and I, well, she, she always thought that you had a fine family here. She told me that she hated to go home at night. Well, she also knew that her father wouldn't allow us to marry-one, because we were so young and another because my family, well, we're foreigners, as her father used to say. I was afraid to tell anyone-I didn't want to especially tell my parents so she decided early on that if she had to, that she would say that you were the father. It wasn't to hurt either of you, but I suppose, knowing Maribeth, that when she heard the doctor telling her father that she might not live, well, I know she didn't want her daughter to be raised alone in that house as she had, especially with her father the way he is. Do you know that he beat her when he found out she was with child and there was nothing I could do?"
Caroline saw Steve's face become flushed with anger when he mentioned the beating and Caroline's heart went out to the two young people who were so much in love. She reached out and patted his arm comfortingly. He looked at her gratefully.
"So, Mr. and Mrs. Ingalls," Mr. Rene continued, "since the child is my blood, well, we would like, with your permission, to take Charlotte to raise; she is our grandchild." The man and his son stood and waited.
"I'll have to defer to my wife," Charles said, smiling slightly as he looked to Caroline. Charles knew that life would probably be easier for him if he deferred to Caroline on all things, but he also knew that he was a man of some pride and often, his stubbornness caused him to proceed when he should stop and think.
"Well.." Caroline looked from her husband to the Renes. " Of course. We've fallen in love with her, you know. She's a wonderful, child. Come with me, Mr. Rene, and meet your granddaughter."
"Thank you. Mrs. Ingalls. And may God bless you." Caroline led him away and Steve lingered for a bit. "Mr. Ingalls, I am sorry. I should have come forward right away and told the truth…but I was…well, I wasn't brave enough. I hope that you can forgive me."
Charles looked at the young man standing before him and thought about how he, himself, had taken on the responsibility of a wife and family too, but not as such a young age. This young man was making a good start though, on becoming the kind of man who eventually would earn the respect of others.
"Of, course, Steve. None of what happened to me was really your fault." Charles held out his hand to Steve and after a second's pause, Steve beamed with joy and shook Charles hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Ingalls, thank you. Oh, thank you!"
Chareles laughed at Steve's enthusiastic handshake. "Now that you have another mouth to feed," Charles said, "how'd you like to earn some money?"
"Well, yes, sir, I certainly would." Steve stood with a puzzled look.
"As you can see, I'm laid up here and although Mr. Taggert comes out in the evening…"
"Oh, Mr. Ingalls, I had planned to come out and do your work here anyway. My Pa and I talked about it on the way over. I feel that it's the least I can do and I won't take any of your money and that's the last word."
"All right," Charles said, "no money. But I'll only let you work if you'll accept a part of the crops. Do we have a deal?' Charles watched Steve's face; it was obvious that he was weighing the proposition.
"Deal," Steve said smiling and he and Charles shook on the matter.
~Finis~