Heart and Home(12)

But what would she say if Grams were here? "I felt a strong attraction  to a man today. I felt it clear down to my toes. Yes, I know men will  take advantage if they can. But I don't think he knows what I felt. I  think I hid it from him."

Jane rose to get ready for bed. Here she was, imagining herself lying to  her grandmother. Of course he had been aware of the attraction. Why  else would he have talked so much about the beautiful Doreena if not to  remind Jane of whom he had waiting? He didn't return her feelings, and  he wanted her to know it. She wasn't beautiful. She wasn't rich. He  wasn't in love with her.

She gazed at her image in her dresser mirror, wishing for soft blond  curls and a tiny turned-up nose. "I was happier thinking he might take  advantage," she muttered.





Adam couldn't keep his mind on the book he was reading. He kept thinking  back on his conversation with Jane. Why had he talked so much about  Doreena? The letter he had spent all afternoon writing had seemed like a  reasonable excuse to have her on his mind, but it wasn't the truth. He  had talked about Doreena in an effort to keep her on his mind.                       
       
           



       

For several minutes, when Jane was close to him, smelling of soap and  fresh air and cinnamon from the apple pie she had baked, her cheeks  flushed from their teasing, her dark eyes bright with laughter, he had  forgotten about Doreena entirely. He had felt so guilty when he realized  it that he had talked about her to make amends.

Only now he felt guilty for Jane's sake. It had probably sounded as if  he were throwing his rich girlfriend in her face. Jane deserved better  than that.

It occurred to him that if Doreena had come with him, he wouldn't have  forgotten about her. Ofcourse, if she had come with him, he wouldn't be  taking his meals at the boardinghouse, let alone staying to help the  hostess clean up. His relationship with Jane was going to change once  Doreena joined him. While what Jane and he shared was nothing more than  friendship, it wasn't going to look like that to Doreena.





Chapter Five


Adam sipped his coffee slowly, waiting for the others to leave the  table. George and Bickford both gave him questioning looks as they left.  But at least they left. The Cartland sisters seemed intent on staying  as long as he did.

"Enjoy your coffee," Jane said. "If you don't mind, I'll start clearing the table."

Adam didn't miss the furtive glance she sent in his direction. She  wasn't any more eager for the Cartlands to know their plans than he was.  Last night they had joked about not wanting anyone to witness their  first time on a horse. But the truth was Adam thought of his first  horseback ride as a grand adventure, and he wanted Jane and not the  Cartlands to share it with him. Since Jane had never ridden, either, it  would be an adventure for her, too. He had a feeling that adventures  were rare in her life.

"We could show you around town this morning," Naomi offered as Jane took a stack of dishes into the kitchen.

"Maybe later," Adam said, coming to his feet. "But right now I think I'll help Jane with the dishes."

"I'm sure that isn't necessary-I mean … " Nedra sputtered to a stop.

"Jane always-we don't-" Naomi closed her mouth and turned to her sister.

"There are plenty of towels," Adam said, "if you'd care to join us."

"What we mean," Nedra said, "is we'd be glad to help, but we really need  to be picking out the fabric for the dress shop. I'm sure you and Jane  understand."

"Yes, that's right. We need to be placing that order soon."

Both women were headed for the stairs before Jane returned for more dishes.

"Where did the Cartlands go?"

"Off to order fabric for their dress shop." Adam joined Jane in the task of stacking dishes.

"Ah," she whispered. "The phantom dress shop."

"Phantom? That sounds intriguing."

"They've been here a year and have yet to so much as arrange, for a location for this shop. I think they're the ones; shopping."

"For husbands," Adam said, remembering the conversation he had overheard his first night in town.

"Can I let you in on a secret?"

"By all means," he said, following her into the kitchen.

"I think you're their first choice."

Adam had figured that out, too. "Not Bickford?" he asked, feigning surprise.

"I think the loser gets Bickford."

"I think whoever marries Bickford is going to feel that way."

It was fun listening to Jane laugh. Hers was a soft gentle laugh, as if she were trying not to be heard.

"Poor Mr. Bickford," she said.

"Poor Mrs. Bickford."

Jane shot him a grin over her shoulder. "You're taking the Cartlands' side?"

"Well, think about it. They came out west to find husbands. There were a  lot of claims made a few years back that pretty women would find  husbands in a matter of days. Think how they must feel after a year  here."

"Discouraged, I expect. Until you moved in next door."

He could tell she was holding back a giggle. He uttered an exaggerated  groan as he left with a stack of clean dishes for the dining room  cupboard. He returned as quickly as he could.                       
       
           



       

She didn't turn to look at him when he came through the door. "My bets are on Naomi," she said.

He groaned again. "Naomi of the orange hair."

"You should write Doreena to come rescue you."

She said it in the same joking tone, but it was like a splash of cold  water to Adam. Doreena. Once again she had been the farthest thing from  his mind.

They finished the dishes quickly. Adam tried not to let his sudden  change in mood show. He should thank Jane for reminding him that he  wasn't free. His conversation with her had slipped dangerously close to  flirting. Which wasn't like him at all. Growing up in a house full of  boys, he had always been a little shy around girls. Why did Jane make  him feel so comfortable?

Or perhaps not so comfortable. Part of what he was feeling was sexual  attraction, or at least awareness. And that he could blame on Doreena's  absence. Jane was right; he should write Doreena to come rescue him, but  not from the Cartland sisters.

Adam walked with Jane to the livery stable at the far end of Washington  Street. He was more than a little self-conscious, after his earlier  realization. He carried his medical bag between them as an excuse not to  offer her his arm, though he felt derelict in not doing so. He didn't  want anyone getting: the wrong idea if they saw the two of them  together. He didn't want to cause her any embarrassment.

Jane, however, didn't seem to expect, anything from him. She walked  beside him, commenting occasionally on this business or that as they  passed. He told himself they were friends. They were neighbors. Jane was  close to the patient he was going to see. He had no reason to feel  guilty.

He told himself he was glad he didn't make her uncomfortable. He was  glad she didn't feel the same attraction he had felt. His feelings were  not injured by her ability to think of him as nothing more than a  friend. That was what he wanted. That was the way it had to be.

By the time they got to the large wooden building at the end of the  street, Adam was feeling inexplicably depressed. His mood brightened  instantly at the sight of a saddled horse tied to the fence beside the  barn.

Knapp met them at the door and introduced Adam to Molly, the saddled  horse. Jane bartered away two places at her table for dinner, and Knapp  left to saddle a horse for her. "I hope mine's smaller," Jane whispered  to Adam.

Adam smiled down at her as he stroked the horse's nose. "I think they can tell if you're afraid of them."

"And will take pity on me, I hope."

"Come on," Adam coaxed. "She doesn't bite."

"You don't know that for sure," Jane said, but she inched her hand forward and stroked the silky cheek.

"Don't look now," she whispered, "but we're drawing a crowd."

Adam looked up the street and saw about a dozen men walking purposefully  in their direction. As they gathered in the street he could hear a  little of their conversation.

"Which horse you reckon Knapp picked?"

"That's old Molly. Where's the fun in that?"

"Miss Sparks is with him, boys. Hi there, Miss Sparks."

She answered and waved.

"Move back," someone shouted. "We don't want to spook the horses." The small crowd took a collective step backward.

"You be careful now, Miss Sparks."

Adam leaned toward Jane and whispered, "Now you know the real reason I invited you along."

Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was an odd little habit he  had noticed before. He tried to block it and the crowd out of his mind  and concentrate on getting to know Molly.