She would like to tell him all her reasons, and she would, if she felt more certain of them. Right now she didn't. Right now she thought he was rightshe should have let him try anything to save Grams.
And that was what bothered her about Dr. Hart. She associated him with the pain and the loss and the guilt. And she always would.
She forced herself back to her feet and thoughts of Dr. Hart out of her mind. She had dinner to prepare. And it would be one of her best. She would make up for missing breakfast. She poured the flour back into the canister and measured out six cups. Salt, then lard followed. She reached for her pastry cutter in its usual place, but it wasn't there. She tried two other drawers before she found it. Evidently the Cartlands had used it for the biscuits and had forgotten where it went The minor irritation was easily forgotten.
Chapter Three
They buried Grams the next morning.
As he stood at the chilly cemetery with the others, Adam found himself watching Jane. She seemed in complete control but the tight jaw and rigid spine testified to what it cost her. Even from where he stood he could see the dark shadows under her eyes.
Following the service, everyone went to the boardinghouse. Adam was sure the entire town and half the countryside were crowded into Jane's parlor and dining room. He found a place against a wall of the parlor and watched the proceedings with interest. It seemed more like a party than a funeral except that voices were kept appropriately subdued.
Three gentlemen nearby introduced themselves. "Gonna miss that old gal," one said.
"Shame somebody so lively should come down with dropsy," commented a second.
"It was pneumonia," Adam said.
The man nodded. "Once she was down in bed, I figured that'd happen. Her granddaughter took her to Kansas City a month or so ago. Old lady was against it. Waste of money. But she was slowing down and her feet were always swollen, and the girl needed to know why."
"Don't dropsy mean a bad heart?" asked another. "Such a shame. The pneumonia was really a blessing."
The three men left in search of food, leaving Adam to stare after them. Jane hadn't mentioned a heart condition, though she had said something about it being hopeless. He should have questioned her.
But the pneumonia had been so obvious he hadn't considered other illnesses at all. What kind of a doctor would make a mistake like that? A young one, he supposed. Still, it bothered him. A lot. He felt he owed Jane an apology for any additional anguish he might have caused her.
He had some thought of seeking her out for that purpose when a middle-aged woman stepped up beside him. "You must be the new doctor."
"That's right. Adam Hart." He extended his hand.
"I'm Rose Finley," she said, taking the hand and not letting it go. "I saw you get off the train, but you're even better looking up close."
Adam laughed self-consciously. "That's kind of you," he said, finally extricating his hand.
"But you're so young," she added.
His own thoughts exactly. "Yes, ma'am. Only time's going to cure that."
"Oh, and clever, too. Is your wife here?"
"I'm not married."
"You poor thing," she said. She looked anything but sympathetic.
"Would you excuse me?" He made his way around her and added over his shoulder, "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Finley."
There was a steady flow of people in and out of the parlor, some carrying plates of food, others holding coffee cups. The hall and the dining room were nearly as crowded. The chairs that normally circled the table had been placed against the wall, along with at least a dozen others. The table was spread with the largest assortment of food Adam had ever seen in one place.
He searched the room for Jane and found her lifting a stack of plates out of the china cupboard. She set the plates on a corner of the table. Before Adam could make his way toward her, she turned and spoke to a woman who had approached her carrying a silver coffee server.
He watched Jane take it and thank the woman, then turn toward the kitchen. Evidently the woman had been reporting that the server was empty. Jane had gone to the kitchen to fill it from the pot that was too heavy for the Cartland sisters to lift.
George Pinter hampered Adam's progress toward the kitchen. "Quite a spread, huh?" the little man asked with a smile.
"I hope she didn't cook all of this."
"You mean Jane? No, most of the women here brought something. Might as well grab a plate and dig in."
Adam cast another look toward the open kitchen door before he followed Pinter to the table. "Is this what all funerals are like out here?" he asked.
"Somewhat. But everybody was fond of Grams. It's a tragedy." He shook his head and repeated, "A real tragedy."
Adam expected him to add in the next breath that it was a blessing.
Pinter found two empty chairs and motioned for Adam to join him. From across the room, Adam watched Jane pour coffee into outstretched cups, accept dirty dishes and clean up one or two minor spills. "Isn't she supposed to be the primary mourner here?" he asked.
"Jane? I suppose. But she probably wouldn't accept help if anyone offered."
"Has anyone offered?"
George shrugged. "Did you try this apple strudel? I'll bet anything it's Jane's."
Adam shook his head. "Save this seat." With a purposeful stride, his dirty plate held out in front of him, he made it to the kitchen without being stopped for more than a greeting. He set his plate on the table and blocked Jane's way as she headed out with another server of coffee.
"Go sit down," he said.
"What? People are waiting for more coffee."
"They can get their own coffee." At her shocked expression he put his hand next to hers on the silver handle. "Or you can let me pour it. Fill a plate and go sit by Mr. Pinter."
She made no move to relinquish the server and Adam wondered what was going through her mind. "This is crazy, you know," he said softly. "Your grandmother dies and you're expected to throw a party for the whole town? We should all be waiting on you."
She almost smiled, but her grip on the coffee server tightened. "That's a little hard to picture. Look, Doctor, I know you mean well, but this is what I do."
Adam eased his hand away, and she brushed past him. He made his way slowly back to his chair.
"What was that about?" Pinter asked as Adam sat down.
"I offered to help. You were right"
Pinter laughed and the sound grated against Adam's ears, as had all the other laughter he had heard this morning. "Don't take it so hard, son. Your mama'd be proud you offered."
Adam swallowed laughter of his own. He knew some woman had given birth to him, but it had been years since he had thought about it. The notion that she might have a moment of pride on his account seemed ludicrous. "That wasn't the point," he muttered.
A few minutes later the first of the guests decided to leave. Adam kept his seat and watched them approach Jane. A few remembered to offer their condolences along with their thanks for the lunch. Scattered dishes on the table left with their owners. The pace of the departures increased until he was the only one remaining.
Jane walked slowly back to the dining room after seeing the last of the guests out. She knew Dr. Hart was still sitting in there. She would have noticed if he had left with the rest. It was too much to hope that he had gone out the back door while she wasn't looking.
No, she was right. There he was. At least he had the manners to come to his feet when she entered the room. Could that possibly mean he was finally ready to leave?
That hope died with his words. "You look exhausted."
"Is that your medical opinion?" She decided to tackle the table first, starting with the empty platters.
"Yeah, but it's free."
"That's about what it's worth." She didn't want to find the doctor amusing. She didn't want to be attracted to a man engaged to a beautiful, wealthy woman. If he would just go away she wouldn't have to think about him-at least not as much. "Don't you have patients to see?"
"Apparently not. This may be the healthiest town in the country." He was using a large empty platter as a tray and filling it with cups that were lying around the room.
She watched him a moment, marveling at his efficient movements. Actually, marveling at more than that until she remembered she wanted to send him away. "How will you know if you have patients if you aren't home when they come?"