Heart and Home(27)

"Next door. I'll be with you in a second." He turned quickly back to the  kitchen and tossed on his suit coat. "Come on, Peggy. We have to go."

He was relieved to see that Peggy hadn't moved. He knelt down and lifted  her out from under the table. "You can hide under my desk for a while.  All right?"

She didn't seem to be alarmed at their abrupt departure. The old couple  were waiting in his front room when he arrived. He let Peggy down and  watched her walk across the room and slip around the desk.

The couple watched her, too. They both gave Adam a questioning look. "Peggy, from the orphan train," he said.

They nodded in understanding. "The one that got sick," the woman said. "We hear she's touched in the head."

"Now that's not nice, Margaret."

"I didn't say anything against her. I just said what I've heard."

Adam cleared his throat. "She's, ah, a little unusual, I'll have to admit. What can I do for you?"

The man spoke. "You can pull this tooth out so I can think about something else."





Jane heard the woman call for Adam and decided she had sat in her room  and felt sorry for herself long enough. Berating herself for being a  fool didn't help her get her work done. She had a kitchen to clean and  some shopping to do. And then another meal to prepare.

She would like nothing more than to tell Adam he wasn't welcome at her  table, but he was a paying customer. She needed the boardinghouse more  than ever now. She had to prove that she could make the place work, pay  off her debt and own the house free and clear. She had to prove it to  Adam and to herself.                       
       
           



       

When she knew Adam had left, she came out of her bedroom, prepared to  face the mess in the dining room. She tried to tell herself that she was  surprised that Adam had started the dishes. But she wasn't surprised at  all. He would have finished them if he hadn't been called away.

Why couldn't he be as wonderful as he seemed?

It wasn't entirely the fact that he had denied her a chance to have  Peggy, though that hurt, of course. What broke her heart was the fact  that he had taken advantage of her grief last night. He had made her  think he loved her, though this morning she couldn't remember him ever  saying that he did.

She continued to berate herself as she tackled the rest of the dishes.  In spite of all her grandmother's warnings, she had made the same  mistake her mother had. She had trusted a man with her heart.

It wouldn't help to mope around. Her garden had been neglected while she  cleaned the house. There was always plenty to keep her busy.

By the time she was setting the table for dinner that evening she  wondered if she would ever be so busy that she didn't think about Adam  or Peggy or the two of them together.

While she was picking fall peas, she had seen them leave the house. She  had been sweeping the front porch when they returned. She hadn't meant  to check the clock or wonder why they had been gone for three hours. She  didn't need to know where they had been.

She shouldn't be curious whether Peggy had said anything aloud to Adam.  If Adam was growing attached to her or was eager to see her off with  some other family.

They weren't, either one of them, a part of her life except as paying  guests at her table. Her life was the boardinghouse and that's all it  would ever be. She wasn't making the same mistake again.

She plucked an ant off the chrysanthemums in the center of the table and  went back to the kitchen to check on her pork chops. She was coming  back into the dining room when Peggy entered from the other direction.

She heard Adam call after her, "Peggy. We should wait-"

He stopped when he saw her. Jane had frozen at the sound of his voice.  Disappointment, anger and longing all washed over her as if she hadn't  spent the day trying to prepare herself for this meeting.

She didn't want to react this way. She wanted to think he was no  different to her than George or Mr. Bickford. The best she could do was  pretend. And the easiest way to do that was turn her attention to Peggy.  The little girl stood still between the two adults, perhaps sensing the  tension.

"Good evening," Jane said. She put the platter of chops she carried in  its place on the table and knelt down beside Peggy. "Did you and Dr.  Hart have a good day?"

Peggy gave her a shy smile.

Jane tried again, whispering this time. "What did you do today?"

"Puppy," Peggy whispered.

"You saw a puppy?" She hadn't meant to look up at Adam. She certainly hadn't meant to smile.

"I had to make a house call," he said. He was still standing just inside  the room as if he were afraid to come any closer. Good, she thought.  She wouldn't be able to think if he was any closer.

"Did you ask for one?"

He shook his head. "They were kind of big for Peggy. She was a little overwhelmed."

Jane bent toward Peggy's ear. "Were they big puppies?"

"Big," she whispered back.

Jane stood, taking the child's hand as she did so. "Adam, any time you  want to leave her with me, you know I'd love to have her." She shouldn't  have said it aloud. Not to Adam. It made her way too vulnerable.

"I know, Jane," he said softly.

Jane heard her front door open and George's voice. "Would you tell the  others dinner's ready?" she asked, turning away. "Peggy can help me get  the last of it on."

In the kitchen, Jane looked around for something Peggy could carry. All  that was left was a bowl of turnips, not a good choice for little hands.  She considered letting Peggy carry the serving spoon, but she might be  tempted to lick it. Peggy settled instead on an extra napkin. "Can you  carry this to the table, sweetheart?"

Jane brought the turnips to the table as the others were taking their  places. Peggy dropped the napkin and made a beeline for the curtains.                       
       
           



       

Adam intercepted her. "How about eating with the rest of us?"

Peggy didn't seem to mind being carried to the table, but she didn't  want to sit in her own chair. Adam settled for letting her sit on his  lap. The Cartland sisters looked askance at the arrangement, while  Bickford and young Ferris simply seemed uncomfortable.

George, on the other hand, seemed delighted. "How did our doctor fare  today with a little tagalong?" he asked as the platters were started  around the table.

Adam's laugh sounded a little self-conscious.

"We got along. Peggy liked riding the horse. Didn't you, Peggy?"

Peggy hid her face in Adam's jacket. Adam smoothed a lock of baby-fine  hair behind the child's ear. "I imagine she's pretty tired."

Jane felt a stab of jealousy. She wanted to be the one Peggy turned to  for comfort. She wanted to hold her and rock her to sleep. And that  wasn't all of it. She knew what Adam's fingers would feel like against  her cheek, and she wanted that, too.

She was so caught up in her own mix of emotions she almost missed what  George was saying. When he mentioned Peggy, he had her full attention.  "The husband said he'd bring his wife into town to meet her on  Saturday."

Saturday! That was only three days away. Jane had thought she'd given up  any idea of changing the board members' minds. She'd thought she had  adjusted to the notion of never having Peggy as her own. In that moment  she realized she had not. As long as Peggy was at Adam's there was a  chance. After Saturday her chance would be gone.

Jane couldn't eat. She couldn't even pretend to eat. She tried not to  watch Peggy fall asleep on Adam's lap. She didn't want to think about  either of them at all. But what else was there to think about?

She looked around at the people who shared her table. The Cartlands  flirted with Ferris and Adam and the unresponsive Mr. Bickford. They  talked about a dress shop they would never open. Bickford spent his  summers writing a novel he would never finish. And she dreamed of a  family she'd never have.

How long before Ferris settled into his job and quit thinking of  anything higher? What had George's dreams been before he settled for  bachelorhood and a small-town bank?

And Adam? Was he still dreaming of Doreena? They were a pretty sad lot,  the bunch of them, she decided. A shy, whispering orphan fit right in.

* * *

Adam wanted to put Peggy down to sleep in the parlor, and stay and help  Jane with the dishes. He needed to talk to her, whether she wanted to  listen or not. But Peggy cried when he stood up, though she tried not to  make a sound. She clung to him, whispering something in her silent  sobs. She seemed to be in the midst of some bad dream. He took her home  and held her until she was sleeping soundly again.

Jane had offered to send some dinner home in case Peggy woke up hungry  in the night. He had assured her that Peggy had eaten all afternoon. Now  he wished he had told Jane to bring it over in an hour. Maybe he could  have trapped her in his front room and made her listen.