Cassandra Austin (15 page)

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “Does exhaustion make me look older?”

Now she did laugh. “That and the fact that you forgot to shave.”

“I didn’t exactly forget. I delivered a baby early this morning.” He was still grinning that little-boy grin she hadn’t seen in a long time. “That was good.”

“Was it?” she asked, wanting to encourage the light in his eyes that warmed her all the way to her toes.

“Yeah. It would have been better if they’d waited about four hours to get me, but it was good.” The smile faded and he looked down at his plate. “Everything went downhill after that.”

“More flu victims?”

He nodded. She didn’t press for details. “I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got one more patient to look in on tonight.”

He raised his head, his expression questioning.

“Ferris came down with it sometime last night.”

Adam glanced at the children. Jane could guess what he was thinking. “I’m keeping them away from him.”

He nodded. His eyes stayed on her for a long moment. “You can’t know how important it is for me to have you to come back to.”

Jane blinked. Johnny gave a little chortle, but
when they turned to look his face was hidden in the book. Adam returned his attention to his food, rather self-consciously, she thought. She had to school her features to keep from smiling at him. Maybe he forgave her for being so suspicious of his motives.

After he had eaten and looked in on Ferris, he helped her get the children ready for bed. “I’d take them home with me,” he said, “but who knows when I’ll get called away again. I hate to leave them alone.”

“You think I’ll run away, don’t ya?” Johnny remarked.

Adam handed Johnny a toothbrush he’d dipped in baking soda. “It crossed my mind.”

“I think I waited too long. I’ll never get her away from you two now.”

“I’m glad to know you won’t leave without her. I don’t want to spend another morning with her under my desk. Now brush your teeth.”

Johnny stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and pulled it back out. “What
are
you gonna do with us?”

Jane slid the little nightgown over Peggy’s head and looked up at Adam. She was as curious as Johnny about the answer to that question. Of course, her situation had changed. She no longer had a home to offer them or the means to support them.

Adam’s eyes met Jane’s for a moment. “As soon as we figure it out, we’ll let you know,” he said to
Johnny. “In the meantime, we’ll be sure you’re safe and well fed. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh, that sure as hell relieves my mind,” Johnny said around the toothbrush.

“It’s the best I can do, Johnny.”

Jane wondered just what kind of hoops she had to jump through to get Adam to let her have the children. He didn’t know about the defection of the boarders. He simply didn’t think she was able to care for them. She smiled at the sleepy Peggy, pretending not to be hurt by Adam’s words.

She kept the same smile on her face as the children were tucked into the little bed. She managed to say good-night to Adam and see him out the door without a single tear escaping. But she made it only halfway to her own bedroom before they started to fall.

Jane took a leaf out of her table before she set it for breakfast. It didn’t look quite as empty that way. She could have taken out another. Adam had been called away again.

George reported what Adam hadn’t told her the evening before—that there had been two more deaths from influenza. Everybody who came into his bank, it seemed, had a story to tell about one epidemic or another that they had survived, witnessed or imagined. These stories were being repeated, confused and combined.

“I’m glad to know Adam was still kickin’ as of
last night,” George said. “Don’t see how he’s going to keep from coming down with this before it’s over.”

Jane had been thinking the same thing. In his current state of exhaustion, he was probably highly susceptible.

“How’s our patient upstairs?” George asked.

“He seems to be doing all right,” Jane said, “but he’s lonely. I can’t stay with him all the time. I can’t ask anyone else to, either.”

“I’ll see if I can’t cheer him up a little,” George said.

George visited with Ferris for several minutes after breakfast while Johnny helped Jane with the dishes. “How come you ain’t worried about gettin’ sick?” Johnny asked.

“To be honest, I am, just a little. On the other hand, I can’t ignore someone like Ferris, who has no one else to take care of him.”

“Kinda like why you take care of me.”

Jane turned from the pan of dishes and looked at the boy. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Is that what you think—that I see you as a duty?”

The boy shuffled his feet. “I know you was wantin’ a little girl, but now I come along and you ain’t so sure you want us both.”

“Where on earth did you get that idea?” Jane dried her hands on her apron and squatted down in front of the boy.

“You mean you don’t want Peggy, neither?”

Jane shook her head. “Couldn’t you tell how delighted I was that that family didn’t take you? And I thought you were such a clever boy.” He wasn’t to be teased out of his concern. She continued, “We don’t always get what we want, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you both.”

This satisfied Johnny for the moment, but not Jane. Just what could she do to keep the children? Find a job and a house she could afford. She had about two weeks to do it. Maybe a little longer; George had always been more than reasonable.

She would start right away by buying a newspaper to see who was hiring and who had rooms to rent. Selling part of her furniture would raise a little money. It hurt to think of leaving this house behind, but not as much as losing the children. She had to be practical.

“Let’s go shopping,” she said, when the dishes were done.

Peggy had been playing with the blocks in the corner. Other than a glance occasionally to see that she was still there, Jane hadn’t paid much attention to her. Now she realized that Peggy wasn’t playing. She merely sat, holding one block on her lap, ignoring the kitten as it chewed on her dress.

“Peggy?” Jane knelt down beside her.

Peggy looked up, her eyes overbright and bleary. Jane was almost afraid to touch her. She had a sudden flash of Grams, sick and dying. There was the same fever in her eyes.

J
ane sent Johnny over to Adam’s to see if he was home. She was almost certain he wasn’t, or he would have come to breakfast.
Maybe he’s sleeping late. Maybe he’s only just returned.

She gathered the little girl into her arms and carried her to the bed. Peggy made her think of a rag doll as she removed her shoes and dress.

Jane tried to keep her voice cheerful as she talked to the child. “When did you start to feel bad, sweetheart?”

“Bad Peggy,” she moaned.

“No,” Jane soothed. “Peggy’s my little sweetheart.”

She pulled a cool sheet over Peggy and got the basin and a clean cloth. She sat beside her, sponging the cool cloth over Peggy’s hot face. This was horribly familiar. She told herself not to think about Grams. This wasn’t the same, but she couldn’t control her imagination.

Johnny came back and stood in the doorway. “He ain’t there.”

She looked up to thank him and realized there was something more he wanted to say. “What is it, Johnny?”

“There’s a note on his door, only I can’t read it. I expect it says where he’s gone.”

“I’m sure that’s right,” she said.

Jane thought she heard him sniff once. “Only I can’t read so I can’t find him.”

Jane laid the cloth across Peggy’s forehead and rose. She pulled Johnny into her arms and held him. She could feel him fighting back sobs. “Is she gonna die?”

“Of course not. Dr. Hart says healthy people recover quite easily.”

“But Peggy’s a baby.”

She pulled Johnny away to look him in the eye. “She’s not really a baby. And she’s strong. I don’t want you to worry.”

“You’re worried,” he accused.

There was no lying to this child. “I shouldn’t be,” she told him, smiling. “You and I can’t help it because we love her.”

Johnny took a deep breath. “I could take the note to that George fella. He knows everybody. I could find Dr. Hart.”

“Out on the open prairie?”

The boy shuddered. “I could try.”

“I’m sure you would succeed. But I think I need
you here more than we really need Dr. Hart.” Jane prayed that was true. Adam had told her the evening before that she had been doing all there was to do for Ferris. She would do the same for Peggy.

“I need to take some soup up to Ferris,” she continued. “I want you to stay here in the kitchen and call for me if Peggy needs anything. Don’t get too close to her, or you might get sick, too.”

“Too close to her? I slept with her last night.”

“Well, last night she wasn’t sick. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Ferris was feeling sorry for himself. He was cold, then he was hot. His head hurt and his throat hurt, in fact his whole body hurt. He couldn’t breathe if he lay down, but he felt too weak to sit up. Jane got two extra pillows for him out of the now-vacant rooms. She fed him the soup, left him a fresh glass of water and found him the book he wanted to read. She left feeling relatively sure that there were no signs of anything worse than the flu.

Downstairs she found Johnny sitting on the bed, his sister on his lap. He rocked her back and forth. The look he threw Jane dared her to send him away. There wasn’t any use now, anyway, she decided. Besides, having him near seemed to make Peggy feel better.

Jane divided her time between Peggy and Ferris. By midafternoon she drew Johnny away from his sister long enough to take a message to George, telling him she wouldn’t be serving dinner that night.
He stopped by shortly afterward with a magazine for Ferris, which he kept rolled up until he took it upstairs. Jane suspected it might be less than wholesome reading, and probably exactly what Ferris needed to lift his spirits.

For Peggy he brought a Jacob’s ladder toy, the six wooden pieces held together with bright ribbons. Johnny had never seen anything like it and tried to figure out how it worked. Peggy seemed content to watch her brother make the blocks clatter their way to the bottom.

Once George had left there was little to do but worry. The flu could, and had in some cases, turned into pneumonia. Jane was well aware of the danger of that disease. She did her best to hide her worry from Johnny, and Johnny in turn tried to be brave for Peggy’s sake.

At the usual dinner hour, she coaxed Johnny to the kitchen table. She had boiled another chicken for broth for the flu victims and had fixed the meat with noodles. There was plenty, of course, in case Adam arrived. She had even set a place at the table for him.

Johnny eyed the empty chair as he took his seat. Jane sat across from him. They ate in silence, listening to Peggy snore and occasionally cough. In the quiet, they heard the door open.

Jane was out of her seat and in Adam’s arms before she even stopped to think. The strength of those arms and the masculine, prairie-wind scent of him
brought her to her senses. She tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he didn’t let her go immediately.

“I see Peggy’s teaching you how to say hello.” He drew away enough to look into Jane’s eyes. He was, of course, grinning.

Jane chewed on her lip. If she laughed she’d start to cry. “Peggy’s sick,” she managed to say.

He let her go, or rather almost did. He kept her hand in his and turned to the little bedroom. “When?” he asked.

“After breakfast. She’s hot and fussy. She coughs and her voice sounds funny.”

Adam touched his palm gently to her forehead and brushed a lock of fine hair away from her face. “Let’s let her sleep.” He turned back into the kitchen. “I practically ran that poor horse to death to get back here for dinner.”

His arm went around Jane’s shoulder, whether for comfort or to draw her away from Peggy, Jane wasn’t sure. It felt very nice. No, it was better than that. With him here, she could almost believe everything would be all right.

Until recently she had believed she must keep her deepest worries hidden from Adam, that he would take advantage of her if he knew what made her vulnerable. Now she wanted nothing more than to pour out her heart to him. His calm strength made him seem capable of carrying the whole world on his shoulders.

She had opened up to him once before. He had
learned about her childhood and told her about Doreena. And where had it led? She felt her cheeks grow warm and covered it by quickly sliding into her seat and raising her coffee cup. That was not what she should be thinking about with Johnny at the table and Peggy lying sick in the next room.

After dinner the few dishes were quickly washed and put away. Adam checked in on Ferris, while Jane talked Johnny into sleeping in the parlor. He brushed off any concern that he might become ill but gave in when Jane suggested that Peggy would sleep better by herself. When she apologized for the discomfort of the narrow couch, he assured her he had slept on worse.

Johnny took twice as long as usual to get ready for bed. Jane assumed he wanted to stay close to his sister, but when Adam came down he asked to speak to him alone, man to man.

Jane couldn’t hide her curiosity as they went off to the parlor together. She moved a chair into Peggy’s bedroom, prepared to sit beside the little girl all night.

Adam was grinning when he walked back through the dining room. He had kept a straight face during the boy’s conversation, of course, agreeing quite happily to everything he asked. Adam wasn’t sure how to break the news to Jane, however.

He found her with Peggy, no surprise there. “You should let her sleep,” he said softly.

“What if she gets worse in the night?”

He didn’t bother arguing, but moved another chair to the far side of the bed. “Johnny asked me to stay.”

She looked up and smiled. There was no lamp in the room, but one burned on the table in the kitchen. Though a little twilight came through the window, he saw her mostly in soft shadows.

“I feel better just knowing you’re here, Adam,” she said.

“I’ve heard that a time or two the last few days.” He leaned forward to press his palm against Peggy’s forehead. She shifted a little in the bed and sighed. “There’s not much I can do but offer reassurance.”

The kitten scampered into the bedroom, undaunted by the darkness. After checking out the occupants he was off again.

“You should get some sleep,” Adam suggested.

“I’ll stay with Peggy.”

“No, I wouldn’t sleep, anyway.”

He was glad she wanted to stay. It was pleasant having her nearby, and so rare the last few days. He’d offer again in an hour, he decided.

“It’s my fault,” she said after a moment. “If Peggy dies it’s my fault.”

He didn’t like her even thinking that Peggy was in that much danger, but he decided to address that later. “How do you figure that?” he asked.

“When Ferris got sick, I shouldn’t have kept the children here. It was just so nice having a family
that I didn’t want to part with them. She’s sick because I was selfish.”

“They wouldn’t have been any safer running around with me.”

“We should have found someplace else for them to stay.”

We.
He was glad she wasn’t taking all the blame. “That wouldn’t have been easy, Jane. Almost every family has someone down with this stuff. And may I remind you, most of them are recovering.”

“I know. I believe you. But it’s easy to be frightened. Especially when you’re not here.”

He smiled a very self-satisfied smile he hoped she couldn’t see in the dark. “Well, I’m here. So stop worrying.”

She fell silent, making no promises, he noticed.

“When I was Peggy’s age,” he said sometime later, “I would have jumped at the chance these children have, to come out west and find a family. By the time I was Johnny’s age, I had convinced myself I was better off without one. I think that’s how Johnny felt when he first came here.”

It didn’t occur to him until he said it that he still wanted the family he had dreamed of as a little child. And that family was right here in this house.

“I think Johnny’s afraid to hope for love for fear of being disappointed,” she said.

“I suspect he’s coming around.”

He had piqued her curiosity, which was his intent. “What did you two talk about?” she asked.

“Oh, we struck a couple of bargains.”

She scowled at him. He wasn’t sure how he knew in the low light, but he did. She turned after a moment, wet the cloth and smoothed it back over Peggy’s forehead, evidently deciding not to ask.

He was dying to tell her what Johnny wanted. It would be smarter to try his own proposal first, though. Proposal. Over a sick child in the dark. To a woman who had already said she didn’t believe he loved her. And Jane thought
she
was scared.

Before he had decided on the proper approach, Jane said, “You can have the house.”

The change of subject was so baffling it took him a moment to even ask her to repeat it.

“You can have the house. My boarders left yesterday. I won’t be able to make the next payment.”

“You think I want your house?” He was so incredulous he forgot to keep his voice down.

Peggy tried to sit up. “Docka Hart?”

“Right here, honey.” He lifted her onto his lap. She was slightly warmer than she should be, but nothing like some of the cases he’d seen.

“Peggy’s Docka Hart,” the little girl said.

“That’s right, honey.” He was surprised to find a lump in his throat “Maybe you’re right,” he said to Jane. “Maybe I do want this house. But I can’t imagine it without you in it. Or my life without you, either.”

“You, either,” Peggy mimicked. She yawned,
then coughed, whimpering at the soreness in her throat.

Jane passed him the glass of water, and he got her to swallow a few sips before passing it back.

“What I’m getting at,” he said, very softly, “is I’m in love with you. I think I fell in love with you even before Doreena was wise enough to break our engagement.”

Jane’s voice was even softer than his had been. It was almost a hiss. “If that’s true, if you loved me, why would you keep me from getting Peggy?”

“I was afraid you’d work yourself into exhaustion.”

She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Are you still?”

“Oh, certainly,” he said without hesitation. “But I’ve seen a good many mothers the last few days. It seems to go with the territory.”

“So what are you saying?”

Adam stood and eased Peggy back onto the bed. “We’re not helping Peggy, we’re just keeping her awake. Let’s move into the kitchen.”

Jane was reluctant to follow him. She fussed with Peggy’s covers until Adam took her arm and drew her out of the room. He suspected she was less worried about Peggy at the moment than what he had to say. He directed her to a chair at the table and moved another. close to her.

“I’m saying,” he began, “that I was wrong. Peggy’s yours and should have been from the beginning.
I told George to stop advertising for families right after we met Mr. and Mrs. Dobbs.”

He was glad Peggy was sleeping in the next room. It kept Jane from yelling at him. Her voice still conveyed her anger. “That was more than a week ago, Adam.”

“Johnny was the problem by then,” he said. “I won’t go into detail, but there was an incident that gave me serious doubts about him.”

“Johnny? He’s just a boy like any other.”

Adam had to laugh at her assessment. “No, I think he’s a little unusual. But he and I have come to an understanding.”

“You said ‘bargains’ before. Are you going to tell me?”

“Yes, I need to do that.” Adam found himself smiling again. “But first I want to ask you to marry me.”

She looked a little more stunned than he had expected. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“You want to marry me? Even after I said I didn’t trust you?”

“I’m hoping you’ll learn to trust me.”

“I do, Adam. I was wrong before, and my grandmother lied to me.” She waved her hands in front of her. “Never mind that. Why do you want to marry me?”

“For the house, of course.” He grabbed her hand, laughing. “I’m teasing. Jane, I love you. I need to be able to come home to you.”

Tears came to her eyes, and he felt a wave of alarm. He had messed this up before; he didn’t want to do it again.

He was immensely relieved when she threw herself across the small space between them. He treated himself to a kiss while he had her on his lap. She. was a willing participant and the kiss turned slow and seductive. It almost made him forget what else he wanted to tell her.