Ana Seymour - A Family For Carter Jones

“Grateful enough to call me Carter, like you did the first day we met?”

The tense look in her eyes was gradually being replaced by a warmth that was kindling another kind of warmth in Carter’s midsection. “Those guardians of the town’s morality you were just talking to will think it scandalous if they hear me.”

Carter grimaced. “It will give them something to think about besides your sister, then.”

Jennie smiled. “Yes. That’s a strategy I haven’t used yet. If I become a greater scandal, they’ll turn their attention away from Kate.” She moved closer to him and linked her arm through his. “I shall call you Carter. And you must call me Jennie. Loudly enough for them to hear it all the way back to Mr. Billingsley’s store.”

Carter chuckled. He had his doubts about the wisdom of her so-called strategy. As far as he could tell, the town matrons had plenty of ammunition to lob at Kate Sheridan and her sister both, if given cause. But he was enjoying her good humor. “Jennie it is,” he said with a grin.

“Thank you…Carter,” she replied, raising her voice as she said his name.

They turned their heads in unison and, sure enough, the three matrons were staring after them with appalled expressions.

Jennie and Carter smiled at each other, then started toward Dr. Millard’s once again. As they walked down the street, Jennie began to giggle. Carter had heard her raging and had heard her determined. He’d heard her with worry cracking her voice. But nothing he’d heard from her up to now affected him like that giggle. He found it more enchanting than a choir of angels.

Dr. Millard had been with Kate for over an hour. By the time he emerged from her bedroom at the far end of the hall, Jennie was pacing the parlor, taut with worry. Carter had left her at the doctor’s office after telling Jennie that he’d be interested in hearing a report on her sister’s condition.

She’d spent the first few minutes after arriving home going over the conversation she’d had with the handsome prosecutor. Carter Jones wasn’t so bad, she reckoned. Perhaps Kate was right that not all men were like Sean Flaherty.

But as the minutes ticked by and Dr. Millard still had not emerged from Kate’s bedroom, she began to get more and more nervous. She snapped unreasonably at Barnaby when he pushed aside the parlor door drapes, just because she’d hoped it was the doctor.

When Dr. Millard finally did come through the arched doorway, he looked tired and suddenly old. Her father and Dr. Millard had been the same age and the greatest of friends. But Papa’s cheeks had never had that pallid, puffy look. His lips had not grown crinkled with lines. And now, of course, they never would. Jennie felt a sob rise in her throat. She’d lost so much. Dear Lord, not Kate, too.

“You look like a child who’s had its toys snatched away, Jennie,” the doctor said gently. “Come on. Kate needs you to be strong right now, not weepy.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Dr. Millard’s words had hurt her pride and stiffened her back, which was most likely exactly the effect he had intended.

“Honey, some girls are blessed to have babies by the baker’s dozen without batting an eye, but your sister’s turning out to be a more delicate sort.”

Jennie bit her lip. “Is she going to be all right? I mean…is the baby…?”

Dr. Millard pulled on Jennie’s arm and led her to the settee, where he lowered himself into the down cushion with a heavy whoosh. “She’s bleeding, Jennie. That’s not supposed to happen. Could be she’ll lose the little tyke. Now, maybe that’s what’s meant to happen. Poor little thing without a father. You know sometimes the Lord…”

Jennie had let him pull her to a seat, but she sat erect, and when he began the last statement she jumped to her feet again. “Dr. Millard, this baby may not have a father, but it will have a family. A loving, caring family. So don’t tell me that it’s not meant to be. Just tell me what we have to do to be sure my sister has a healthy child.”

The doctor leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh. “The only thing I can tell you is that she’s got to rest Keep her off her feet as much as possible. I know that puts a lot of burden on you.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“You should have some help.”

Jennie gave a little snort. “Shall I post a notice in the town square and see how many people come rushing to help the two wicked Sheridan sisters?”

“That’s not fair, Jennie. You know you have friends here. Lyle Wentworth came to see me about your sister. He’d help out around this place.”

“Kate doesn’t want to see him, Dr. Millard. And I don’t imagine you’d want me upsetting her.”

The doctor shook his head. “Definitely not. But there are others. That young Carter Jones seemed a bit taken with you when he escorted you to my place today. I bet he’d lend a hand.”

To Jennie’s amazement, she felt her cheeks begin to grow hot. Could she be blushing? Only silly girls blushed. Silly, lovesick girls. “I’m sure Mr. Jones has more important things to do than worry about us,” she said. “We’ll get along fine. I’ve got Barnaby to help out. And the miners will lend a hand, if I ask them. We’ll make sure Kate doesn’t so much as fluff the pillow from her bed.”

Dr. Millard pushed heavily on the arm of the settee and stood. He leaned over to put a soft hand on Jennie’s still-blushing cheek, which seem to burn under his touch. “You’ve got your parents’ spirit, girl. The same spirit that took them through all those winters in the mountains. Strong, independent people they were. Some of the finest I’ve known.”

Jennie nodded, her throat too full to answer.

“So you and I will do our best to take care of our Kate and of that grandchild of theirs,” he added.

As the doctor quietly left the parlor, Jennie stood staring blindly at the bombazine curtains. She’d been thinking of all the problems this coming child was causing, but what about the child itself? Her parents’ grandchild. Her sister was going to have a baby—a new life to carry on the proud tradition that her parents had done such a good job of passing on to her and Kate. Yes, she’d take care of Kate and of the baby, too. She wouldn’t let them down. And Dr. Millard was wrong. She didn’t need help from anyone to do it.

Like the eye of a hurricane, Kate sat on a stool in one corner of the kitchen, viewing the scene with one of her serene smiles. Around her the room was in chaos.

Jennie stood next to the stove, sleeves rolled up, her hair fallen in damp ringlets around her neck. Dark patches had begun to show across her back where her dress clung to her sweaty body.

Barnaby had climbed up into the tin sink and was balancing precariously while he picked the good china plates one by one out of the high cupboard and handed them to Dennis Kelly, who took each fragile dish in his meaty hands and set it down on the table as if it were a piece of spun sugar.

Brad Connors and Humphrey Smith were standing together at the cutting counter, jostling each other and grumbling as they chopped vegetables.

“Smitty ain’t doing it right, Miss Jennie,” Brad complained. “He’s not cutting off enough at the tops.”

“You’re throwing away half the carrot, Connors,” Smitty replied. “I didn’t break my back picking those out of the garden for you to waste ‘em like that.”

Jennie set aside the big spoon she’d been using to stir the stew and reached to put the cover on the big pot. “It doesn’t matter, boys. However you chop them will be fine. We have plenty of carrots.”

“Well, someone else is going to have to go grub in the dirt and find them,” Smitty said under his breath, but he moved a step back from where Brad continued to chop furiously, throwing the top two inches off each vegetable into the garbage bin on the floor beneath them.