Gingham Mountain by Mary Connealy Page A

kicked at a clump of snow in front of him. “It’ll be gone by the time church is over.”
    “Two more times down the hill,” Grant amended. “If we hurry!”
    He caught the sled rope and planted Libby back on the sled and raced Joshua, pulling Benny, to the top of the hill. Charlie was right beside him. The girls beat the rest of them to the top and jeered at Grant for being slow.
    The kids nagged him into four more times down the hill. Then they had to skip breakfast and head for church with their coats still wet and their hair straggling around their faces. Grant knew they were all a mess, but laughing was something none of them had known how to do when they’d first come to him. Enjoying family life was as much a kind of worship to an orphan as sitting in the Lord’s house.

    “The gap is filled up to the canyon rim.”
    Daniel’s announcement nearly broke Grace’s ear drums as he slammed the door open to their cabin. To knock the snow off his broad shoulders, he shook himself like a wet dog.
    “Daniel!” Grace held up both hands to ward off the flying snow. She risked a peek through her fingertips and saw him grinning at her.
    “No school till spring! The canyon’s snowed shut for sure.” Mark launched himself at Luke and the two of them slammed to the floor. “I thought it’d never happen. I thought we’d be stuck schoolin’ all winter.”
    Grace closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see the breaking bones andblood. She peeked again. Of course no one broke. A Texas cyclone couldn’t play this rough, and yet the boys stayed in one piece more often than not.
    A cry out of the bedroom pulled Grace’s attention away from the riot in front of her.
    “I’ll get him. Your little brother’s up, boys!” Daniel ran toward the room with all five boys charging after him. Daniel beat the crowd through, but the boys clogged in the doorway and fought each other to be second.
    “ Be gentle with him! ” Grace used to be soft-spoken, but no one seemed to hear her. Now she hollered, and they still ignored her for the most part. But at least they now ignored her because they were rude, not because of any failure on her part to let them know what she wanted. So she could blame them fully when they didn’t mind her.
    Daniel appeared from the bedroom with Matt, still droopy-eyed from an unusual afternoon nap. The boy wasn’t inclined to unnecessary sleep. None of the men in this family were.
    Her three-year-old son was bald as an egg, but Daniel said all of his sons started out that way. He claimed it was real convenient to have no hair on a baby because it made mopping the food off their heads easier. Grace had found that to be the honest truth.
    Abe and Ike shoved through the door next. They’d shot up in the last year. Fourteen years old now, soon to turn fifteen, they were within inches of Daniel’s height but not nearly as broad. Their shoulders and chests hadn’t filled out yet, and they had a gaunt, hungry look, no matter how much food Grace poured down them.
    The boys were eating the herd down so fast, one of these days Grace expected to see the cattle making a break for it.
    Abe and Ike did the work of men, but they still played like kittens. Big kittens. One hundred-fifty-pound kittens who would sooner knock the furniture over than go around it.
    Mark, Luke, and John, the nine-year-old triplets, came in next. Luketripped Mark because Mark dodged in front of him to get out of the baby’s bedroom. Mark smacked into his older brothers. As long as they were within reach, Mark made a point of knocking them sideways as he fell. The two of them turned and attacked. John, a step behind Luke, jumped on the pile of wriggling, screaming boys.
    Daniel ignored the ruckus, as did Grace to the extent she was able. They met in front of the fireplace, and Daniel handed little Matthew over. Grace settled into the rocking chair Daniel and the boys had built. Matthew lasted all of ten seconds on her lap, then he yelled and