Adam seemed to be at once amused and embarrassed. Jane was glad her own first ride was nearly forgotten.
She was passing around bowls of bread pudding when George pulled out his pocket watch. "I almost forgot. I got a letter today from the Children's Aid Society of New York City. I intend to pay some calls tonight, round up a placing board."
"What," wondered Nedra, "is the Children's Aid Society?"
"It's an organization that finds homes for orphans from the streets of New York," George said.
Naomi wrinkled her large nose. "That would not be an easy task, if you ask me."
Nedra nodded at her sister. "Can you imagine?"
It was clear to Jane that they were imagining dirty little urchins, and not with any compassion, either. Her interest was so centered on watching the women exchange grimaces she was surprised to hear Adam speak up.
"Orphans, you said? They're sending city orphans out here?" His attention was turned to George, giving Jane a chance to study him. He had more than a passing interest in the subject. In fact, he seemed excited by the prospect of orphan children arriving in Clyde.
"Orphans and half orphans. Some are immigrants," George added. "I'm to form a placing board to round up prospective families. They like to have the children placed with farm families, mostly. They believe farm life and labor is conducive to healthy minds and bodies. 'Course, nobody at the Children's Aid Society ever worked on a farm."
Adam's eyes lost some of their enthusiasm. "So they become indentured servants."
George pursed his lips. "Not in theory, anyway. Families are expected to treat the orphans as their own, and farmers work their own kids. They have to. It's just that farmers are more likely to think another pair of hands is worth the extra mouth to feed, while the businessmen in town don't usually need more unskilled labor."
Adam raised an eyebrow. "What about adopting the children out of love?"
George grinned. "I think we need you on the placing board. You can be in charge of finding loving families."
Adam didn't seem at all taken aback by the suggestion. In fact, he seemed eager to begin. "I don't know many of the families here yet," he said, but it was more to himself than to George.
"You can get to know them fast this way."
Adam smiled, evidently happy to have his only objection answered so quickly. "Of course I'd be happy to help."
"That's one down already. The orphans will come into town by train with their sponsors and be introduced at the Methodist Church, where the families can pick out a child."
Jane remembered the few times she had ridden on a train and the bone weariness that followed. "Surely they won't go immediately to the church," she interjected. "They'd be welcome here for refreshments before the presentation."
George nodded. "That's kind of you, Jane. We'll plan on it. Adam, you want to come with me while I try to round up the rest of the board?"
"Sure," he said, rising as George did. "Terrific dinner as always, Jane."
She smiled in thanks at the compliment and watched the men walk out together, already discussing whom to call on first.
The Knapps left next and the boarders shortly after. Jane remained at the table for a few minutes, telling herself she wasn't disappointed. She was happy Adam would be helping to find homes for the orphans. She was happy he and George were becoming good friends. She certainly didn't need any help with the dishes.
She gathered a stack of plates and went to the kitchen, conscious of every clatter of china, every clink of the silverware. Her own footsteps seemed to echo though the rooms as she made trip after trip between the kitchen and the dining room.
How many times had she done this task alone, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Grams, listening all the while for any sound from the tiny bedroom? The silence in that room was almost palpable.
This, she told herself, was the reason she had wanted Adam to stay. He filled her kitchen with talk and laughter. He kept her from thinking about her loss.
Maybe he had done her a favor tonight. She needed to think about her grandmother. Oddly, Jane had accepted Grams's death but not her absence. With her gone, the burden of running the boardinghouse fell entirely to Jane. This she could accept; the last few months she had done all the work herself. But she had relied on Grams when it came to any decisions. Now she had to make those by herself, also.
Her first decision, she thought as she slid a stack of plates into the soapy water, would be what to do with the little room off the kitchen. She hadn't set foot in it since they had wrapped Grams in a blanket and carried her away.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. Grams would want her to move on. Jane could convert the room for storage, but she didn't have that much to store, and the kitchen was well appointed with cupboards.
She considered moving into the room herself, leaving her own room available to let. That would mean a little more money, and she needed every penny. The trip to Kansas City had used up all their savings. Making the payments on the house wasn't going to be easy.
It made perfect sense, she decided as she scrubbed a platter clean. It also gave her something definite to do to improve her situation. The fact that there was already a vacant room upstairs kept her from feeling as optimistic as she might have otherwise.
And trading two meals for the rent of a horse hadn't been a wise business decision. Of course, she could hope that Mrs. Knapp had enjoyed the evening away from her own kitchen enough to talk her husband into doing it again, this time for the usual fee.
Even if they never returned, Jane had a hard time regretting her excursion with Adam. It had been exciting and exhilarating. He took such pleasure in little things it was impossible not to enjoy them herself. In fact, she loved watching his face as he talked to the others around the table. She loved teasing him the way she teased the little boys that came to her back door to beg for cookies.
There was something special about the young doctor, something that pulled her toward him, that made her want him to be with her every moment.
Her hands stilled on the plate she was drying. She was dangerously close to falling into the trap her grandmother had described so many times. Always before Jane had thought her mother was foolish to have fallen for her father's sweet words. Foolish, as Grams had said, for trusting another with her whole life.
Suddenly Jane understood her mother and was terrified.
Adam lit a lamp and started another letter to Doreena. He had mailed a letter that morning and counted the days until he could expect to receive one in return. Tonight he had so much more to tell her.
He wrote about the horse the livery had provided, hoping it sounded humorous. It was always a little difficult to guess what Doreena would find funny. He wrote about the orphan train, and the part he would play in placing the children. As he wrote, he found himself emphasizing the importance of the board to the community and minimizing the orphans themselves.
He wanted to tell her how he felt when he thought about those little children abandoned by parents, whether by choice or by death. How it felt to yearn for someone, anyone to care about you, to say you were worth the food it took to keep you alive.
Somehow, he couldn't imagine Doreena understanding. She had been loved and pampered since the day she was born. She put great store in family lineage, in ancestors that had arrived before the Revolution.
The thought that Jane would understand came to his mind. Jane had been orphaned, too, sometime along the way, or she wouldn't have been so close to her grandmother. Jane wouldn't be embarrassed by his desire to help these children find new parents.
He shook off the disloyal thoughts. Doreena was the one he should be sharing this with. He wasn't giving her enough credit. She was an affectionate, loving girl. She would understand how hard it was to live without the very things that she found important.
Of course she would.
He took up the pen, glared at his hand until it quit trembling, and put his feelings down on paper for Doreena to read. If he thought of Jane now and then, as if it were she who listened, that was simply because he valued her friendship.
Chapter Six
Immediately after the breakfast dishes were done, Jane started on the little room. She tore the bedding from the bed and put it all to soak in tubs of soapy water. She wasn't going to think about how distant Adam had been at breakfast. She wasn't concerned that he had work to attend to and couldn't stay to help with the dishes.