Read Love comes softly for Free Online

emptied the water from the washtubs.
    Missie was having a nap. Marty was glad to be free of the child for a while-- almost as glad as she had been to have Clark away for the day. How relieved she had felt at his announcement that morning. Maybe with luck the neighbor's work would keep him away for several days. She hardly dared hope for so much. She had planned to look around the farm today to learn where things were, but she felt far too tired just now. She'd just sneak a few minutes of rest while Missie was
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    still sleeping and then take her scouting trip a little later.
    She threw out the last of the rinse water, replaced the tubs on the pegs on the side of the house and with extreme weariness went in to stretch out on her bed. She cried a bit before sleep claimed her, but the sleep that came was the most restful one that she'd had since Clem had died.
    Marty slept on, unconscious of the fact Missie had awakened, looked over at her as she slept, and then, with a great deal of maneuvering, climbed from her crib and went in search of her pa.
    Marty awoke with a start-- not sure what had roused her, but already sensing that something was wrong. Maybe Missie had cried. She propped herself on one elbow and looked at the crib. No, it wasn't that. Missie wasn't even there. Missie wasn't there? But she must be.
    Marty sprang up, her heart pounding. Where was Missie? Maybe Clark had come home and taken the child with him.
    "Don't panic," she told herself. "She's got to be okay."
    Marty checked the corral but the team was not back. She looked all around the buildings, calling as she went. No Missie. She ranged farther and farther from the buildings but still no Missie. She was getting frantic now in spite of her efforts to keep herself under control. Where could Missie be? What should she do?
    Tears were streaming down Marty's cheeks. Her dress had suffered another tear near the hem and she had thorns in her hands from the wild rose bushes that she had forced her way through. She checked the creek-- up and down its banks, searching the clear, shallow water, but no sign of Missie or of anything that belonged to her.
    Maybe she followed the road, Marty thought, and she set off at a hurried pace down the dusty, rutted roadway. On and on she stumbled. Surely she couldn't have gone this far, Marty reasoned, but she hurried on because she knew of nothing else to do. Then, over the hill in the road ahead she saw Clark's team coming toward her.
    She could have stopped by the side of the road and waited
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    for him to approach her, but she did not even think of it.
    What could she say to Clark? How could she tell him? She could not even be trusted to care for one small child. Would Clark have some idea of where to search for her that Marty had not already tried?
    On she plodded until finally she had to step aside to allow the team to draw up beside her. She looked up at Clark, misery showing on her dirt and tear-streaked face-- there sat Missie as big as life on her pa's knee, looking very proud of herself.
    Clark whoaed the horses to a stop and reached down a hand to help Marty into the wagon. She climbed up reluctantly, her head spinning. Oh, what must he think? They travelled toward home in silence. Why didn't he say something? He'd not spoken since he'd said giddup to the team. Missie was quiet too. Well, she'd better be, the little demon. If she said one word, Marty knew she'd feel like smacking her. Her great relief at seeing her safe and sound was now replaced with a feeling of anger toward the child. Marty's face stung, both from the effort of her frantic search and her deep humiliation. Then her chin went up. So he wasn't talking. Well-- neither was she. He could think what he would, she wasn't doing any explaining. She hated him anyway and she didn't think much more of his undisciplined child.
    "Iffen I can jest stick it out fer thet wagon train, then I'll be a goin' out of this wretched place so fast ya won't even find my