Sorry it took me a while to update! Here's the next chapter. :)

Chapter Five

Laura headed home from teaching school, a stack of textbooks and papers to grade in her arms. A few weeks after the baby's death, she had gone back to teaching.

Something about the bright, inquisitive looks on the students' faces and being able to put her energy towards teaching them cheered her up. She was grateful for the job and the distraction.

Rose was getting older. She was still two years old and doing things that are characteristic of two year olds-she was mischievous and got into everything. But Laura loved her fiercely and having Rose to love and take care of took a bit of the sting out of her heart.

As Laura walked past Oleson's Mercantile, she saw Mrs. Oleson prancing down the front steps, the corner of her dress held up in her hand. Sighing, Laura smiled at her dimly as Mrs. Oleson called out her name. She wasn't really in the mood to talk to the town gossip today.

"Oh, hello, Laura!" Mrs. Oleson said loudly.

"Hi, Mrs. Oleson. How are you?"

They had stopped in front of the mercantile so they could chat.

"Ah well, my back is aching and Nels refuses to get me any medicine but..." Mrs. Oleson's demeanor seemed to change and her eyes narrowed. She looked up and down at Laura and said, "But I ought to be asking you that question. Are you alright?"

If anyone else had asked that question, Laura would have thought they were kind and thoughtful. However, the way Mrs. Oleson said it and her reputation told Laura that she was just being nosy.

"I'm doing fine, Mrs. Oleson. What makes you think that I'm not?"

The middle-aged woman stopped and motioned to Laura with a wave of her ringed hand, as if Laura should know what she was talking about.

"Oh, well, when I see a record of someone not paying their bills...for *so long*...I am apt to think that they are sick or something. And with your loss recently, well..."

Laura cut her off as nicely as she possibly could. "We're having a bit of a rough time financially, Mrs. Oleson. We'll pay the bill as soon as possible."

Mrs. Oleson sighed dramatically and a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

"Oh, I will never understand you country folk! Never paying your bills on time; always in debt!"

Laura felt her temper rising but also knew, deep down, that Mrs. Oleson was right. They should have paid their bill by now. They just didn't have the money for it.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Oleson. Have a nice day."

Laura walked off, leaving Mrs. Oleson huffing and puffing on the stoop.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Laura walked in the front door and briskly took off her bonnet. She laid her stack of books on the table and went to start preparing supper after making sure that Rose, whom she had picked up on the way home, was playing quietly.

Almanzo walked in the door. "Hi," Laura said. "How was your day?"

He sighed. "Alright, I guess. I'm going to have to sell the cow if things get any worse."

"Oh, not the cow!" Laura exclaimed. "What about milk and butter?"

He shrugged, but it was evident from his expression that he didn't want to sell the cow either.

"I don't know what else to do, Beth." He said.

They ate a small dinner of rabbit stew and cornbread and climbed into bed.

Laura lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. She wondered how long Mrs.

Oleson would hold off before she began constantly pestering her about the bill and telling the whole town about the debt the Wilder's owed.

She then thought about the cow. It made that ache return a little stronger to her heart when she pondered the fact that if her little boy had been with them now, they wouldn't have even been considering selling the cow. They would have needed the milk to nourish the strong, growing baby.

Instead there was a tiny grave in the graveyard nearby with a little wooden cross above it. And they were selling the cow.

She then turned her line of vision to the form of Almanzo lying next to her. His rhythmic breathing told her that he was sound asleep.

Poor Almanzo. He worked so hard for that crop, and now look what happened to it. It had been his hope and dream.

Laura traced a little curving line down his back that was turned toward her, feeling the rough fabric of his nightshirt against her finger.

She felt his muscles underneath the shirt that were well-developed from years of farm work.

She then ran her hand up and felt the soft curls of his hair. A little pang of something-was it sadness, maybe-reverberated throughout her body.

After the baby's death, she had been almost scared to let Almanzo near her. They had hardly kissed since that fateful August day.

Now it was November and her husband felt farther away mentally and physically than ever. She didn't know what he was thinking-he never told her anymore.

She could tell he was still grieving over the death of her son and she was, too. But he never mentioned him. All he ever talked about was the crops and how they were going to stay afloat.

Since that day at the baby's grave, they hardly ever talked anymore. Each was grieving by themselves.

Also Almanzo was really worried about the debt and Laura also had a feeling that he felt that he was a failure to her. He had so much as said so the other day, "Beth, if I can't keep a crop alive, what kind of husband and provider am I?"

Laura had reassured him, of course, but she wasn't sure if he believed her. And then of course there was the matter of them never getting physically close to each other anymore.

Laura longed to feel his lips on hers-it had been so long and it was so difficult not to kiss him when he was lying right next to her in bed-but she was so scared. Scared and hurting.

She knew he was hurting as well-she had seen it in his eyes when she avoided a kiss or went in for a hug instead. But she couldn't help it. She didn't think she could bear it if she had another baby and lost he/she as well.

Wiping a tear away, Laura settled into bed and fell into a turbulent, nightmare-filled sleep.