Cassandra Austin - Heart And Home

Adam shrugged out of his suit coat and swung it over the back of a chair. He had pulled kitchen duty for larger groups than this. He expertly stacked plates and saucers and headed for the kitchen.

And met his second surprise. The mess in the kitchen defied imagination. The Cartlands hadn’t replaced a single lid on any of the canisters and tins they had opened, let alone started a pan to soak. There was even a broken egg lying on the floor just where it had been dropped. With a sigh he attacked the mess, reminding himself that he had nothing else to do.

An hour later the kitchen looked like Jane’s again. He had found where most things belonged or at least made a guess and left the rest stacked on the nowclean table. He rolled down his sleeves and looked around, satisfied with his work. He gathered the collar and buttons and his tie from the chair where he had discarded them earlier, and returned to the dining room.

Clean dishes now filled the glass-fronted cabinet, and the hardwood table shone from the oil and lemon polish he had found. He had even swept the floor. There was nothing left to do, which should make him happy. Cleaning was not his favorite activity.

But he didn’t want to go back to his empty house. He had been imagining Doreena in the boardinghouse kitchen, and he had trouble picturing her in the smaller house.

Well, part of the time he had imagined Doreena. The rest of the time he had pictured Jane finding a spot on one of her dishes. Or worse, finding him in her kitchen up to his elbows in dishwater, with sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Collarless with his shirt open and his coat off. She was liable to be scandalized. Or embarrassed. Neither was his intent.

He slipped the collar and tie into a pocket of his coat and slung it over his shoulder just as he heard a door close down the hall. Light, feminine footsteps approached the dining room. He was about to confront either Jane or one of the Cartland sisters. He considered making a run for the back door, but ran his fingers through his damp hair instead.

Jane entered the room, her purposeful steps faltering when she saw him.

“I seem to make a habit of startling you,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah…” He debated telling her.

“Is it getting hot out?” she asked.

“Warm,” he said. “I came to offer my condolences.”

“Thanks.” She nodded and turned away, going through the kitchen door. Adam sighed to himself. She really didn’t like him. And, he told himself firmly, it really didn’t matter.

He followed her into the kitchen. “Perhaps this isn’t a good time,” he said to her back as she lifted a bowl off a cupboard shelf, “but I was wondering if there would be room for me at dinner.”

“Sorry,” she said, continuing her work. “The pastor and his wife are coming to dinner, and that fills the table, I’m afraid.”

Adam thought of several other things he might say, but they all seemed trite in the face of her obvious grief. He was turning to go when the door opened and Tim Martin entered.

“I’m off to catch the train,” the salesman said.

The glance Jane threw in Adam’s direction before she turned to her boarder held a combination of irritation and guilt. She had known Martin was leaving but had denied his request for dinner anyway.

“Have a safe trip, Tim,” she said pleasantly. “Can I expect you back in a couple of months?”

“Of course, and I’ll recommend you to everyone I see that’s headed your way. Sorry about your grandmother, dear. It was nice meeting you, Doctor.”

Martin shook hands with Adam, turned and kissed Jane’s cheek, then left them alone again.

Adam watched Jane avoid his eyes. Finally she muttered, “I forgot he was leaving today.”

Adam nodded, not believing her at all.

“Dinner will be the same time as last night.” She turned back to her work.

“Miss Sparks, if you don’t want me to eat here, I can—”

“No,” she said quickly, facing him. “Please, I don’t want an empty chair if I can help it.”

He grinned at her. “That’s wonderfully flattering.”

“I’m not good at flattery.”

She turned away, and he watched her stiff shoulders for a moment, wondering why he didn’t just leave. “We missed you this morning,” he said finally.

She shrugged.

“I mean, we really missed you this morning.”

She faced him, her eyes narrowed in question. He quirked a smile at her.’ “I’m looking forward to dinner.”

Jane watched him walk out of the room and listened for the front door to close. She tried to brush the image of that little-boy grin out of her mind. What exactly had he meant by missing her at breakfast? She might have thought he was suggesting the meal had been inadequate, but she knew better. Nedra had already told her it had been fine.

Jane also knew better than to think it was her company he had missed. She had been nothing but rude to him since she’d met him. And even if she had been sweet and gracious, he had Doreena.

She set the flour-coated teacup aside and sank into the chair. She had come in with every intention of baking pies for dinner. She had gotten as far as measuring two cups of flour. Or was it three? She would have to pour it back and start again.

Why did Dr. Adam Hart get her so rattled?

She wanted to laugh at herself. Besides the fact that his face was so handsome he made her knees weak and his body was the very model of masculine health? Maybe because he thought she had let her grandmother die.

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.

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.