He slowly shook his head. “That would never have come from Father, and you know it.”
“Well, if he had lived longer, I am positive that it would have. Please, Sam, let me do this. I’m anxious to go, and I hear it’s a wonderful show, and Eddie Foy, the man who gave me the tickets, is becoming quite famous. He’s actually a friend of Wyatt Earp, I’m told.”
Meg watched the scene unfold, hoping very much that Sam would let them all go. Her shoulders relaxed when he swallowed hard, but said, “All right. I don’t see what harm it could do. Only if you want to go, Meg. It’s not normally something that most people go to.”
“I’ve never been allowed to go. I guess my father is one of ‘those people’.” She laughed and opened the icebox, putting the cream away that they’d used for coffee after dinner. “I’d love to go.”
Mrs. Allen clapped her hands together. “Well, it’s settled. Splendid. They’re all the rage and becoming quite popular.”
“If we’re all going after a long day at work,” Sam said, “we’d best get to bed early tonight along with Mother, Meg.”
“All right, but you two head on up. I’ll be right there.”
“There’s nothing in here that can’t wait until tomorrow, Meg.” Mrs. Allen cast her eyes about the kitchen. “I’ll get up much earlier than you to, I’m sure, and I can start breakfast. You two can take your time.”
Meg’s cheeks flushed as Mrs. Allen winked at her.
Sam blew out the lanterns in the kitchen and lit the one kept by the stairs to lead the way up to the bedrooms.
As they reached the top of the stairs and turned left down the hallway, Mrs. Allen said, “I want to thank you two for your hospitality and kind welcome.” She reached up and gave Sam a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, son.” Turning to Meg, she patted her cheek and said, “And I’m so glad he has you to look after him, my dear.”
Sam smiled. “We’re glad you’re here too, aren’t we, Meg.”
“Yes, of course,” Meg said, following Sam and his mother down the hallway.
Meg stopped at her bedroom door, her hand on the knob as she turned to say goodnight to Mrs. Allen. “Good night, Mrs. Allen. I look forward to another fun day—“ She stopped mid-sentence as Mrs. Allen looked to Sam, who had his hand on the doorknob to his room and to Meg, who had now opened the door to hers.
Mrs. Allen’s eyebrows rose and Meg looked at Sam, her eyes wide and her stomach fluttering.
“Which one is your bedroom, the two of you? I thought the one Sam showed me at the end of the hall was it.”
Meg chewed her bottom lip and shut the door to her room. “Um, yes. Yes, it is. I was just going to get something, but I don’t need it.” She turned to walk the few steps to where Sam was standing, his mouth open.
Mrs. Allen frowned and cocked her head to one side. “Well, good night, then.” She didn’t move, however, and Meg knew she was waiting for them to go into the bedroom together.
She nudged Sam with her elbow as he seemed to be frozen to the spot. “Sam, open the door, dear.”
“What? Oh.” He swallowed hard and opened the door to the bedroom, allowing Meg to precede him as he said, “Good night, Mother. We’ll see you in the morning.”
As Meg closed the door behind her and leaned against it, Sam walked to the far side of the room, his arms folded over his chest. “What are we going to do now?”
Once again, never in her wildest daydreams had Meg imagined this happening. Here she was, stuck in the bedroom of a man who was her…husband? No, that wasn’t right. Not yet. She wasn’t quite as panicked as Sam looked, but she knew she should get out of there, as soon as his mother was in her room—for good.
She couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face—horror mixed with panic. “Sam, it’s all right. I’ll be able to sneak back to my room in a few minutes, maybe ten.”
“But this isn’t…isn’t proper. I promised—”
“You promised that we’d do the best we could, and I didn’t feel like there was any other choice right now, did you? We could have said that we need separate bedrooms because—what? You snore?”
“I don’t snore,” he said, his hands on his hips.
“Precisely. And don’t you think your mother might know that? I didn’t have time to think up a good excuse that might have gotten us in even deeper.”
Sam paced as Meg looked around at Sam’s room, one she’d not seen before. The floor didn’t have dirty socks and boots all over, like her brother Hanks’s had—at least until he’d moved in with Clara.