“She’s hungry. I’m going to make her some tea and toast.”
“Shouldn’t she be seen by a doctor? And the baby?”
She twisted, looked at him. A long look. “They will be.”
“When?”
She walked across the kitchen. “After I send word that the baby has arrived, Dr. Dillon will drive out to see them.”
He leaned against the painted white archway and crossed his arms. “How will you get word to him?”
“Her,” Jenny said, filling a tea kettle with water.
Confused he asked, “Her who?”
“Dr. Dillon is a woman.”
A doctor was a doctor! As long as they knew what they were doing, he didn’t care if they were a man or a woman. “How will you get word to her?”
After putting the kettle on the stove, she took a loaf of bread out of the tin box on the counter and sliced off two pieces.
Tired of waiting, he asked, “Do you need me to take a message to this Dr. Dillon?”
“No. Mr. Whipple will do that.” She put the bread in the oven.
“How? Where is he? Who is he?”
She turned around and leaned against the stove. “This really is none of your business.”
Although she attempted to look stern, all he saw was her uncommon natural beauty. Even wearing a simple pale green dress, with her long hair loosely braided and pinned up, she was beyond pretty. She’d matured into a very beautiful woman. He pushed off the wall and walked into the kitchen. “You’ve already told me that.”
“I have, and yet you’re still here.”
He stopped within a foot of her, blocking her from moving away from the stove. “And I’m not leaving, other than to get word to this Mr. Whipple fellow, so he can tell Dr. Dillon to get her carcass out here.”
“I will tell Mr. Whipple.”
“When? How?”
She turned and opened the oven door to check on the bread.
Connor was holding on by his last thread. The want to place a tiny kiss along the slenderness of her neck, was enough to drive him crazy. Throw in her aloof answers, and he would soon be fit to be tied. “Damn it, Jenny, why can’t I get a straight answer out of you?”
She closed the oven door, and leveled a solid stare on him. “Mr. Whipple is the school bus driver. When he drops Emily off, I’ll ask him to let Dr. Dillon know that we need her to stop out here at her earliest convenience.” She picked up the kettle that had started to steam. “Now that I’ve answered your question, you can leave. I have things to do.”
He stepped back so she could pour the water in a teapot on the counter. “One question. You answered one question. I asked several others. You haven’t answered any of them.”
She dropped a teabag in the pot and replaced the lid. “There is a newborn baby upstairs, along with the woman who just delivered her. I have another woman who could go into labor at any moment. A year-old infant who will be waking up from his nap shortly, two greenhouses full of flowers that need to be watered, and a daughter who will soon be home from school.” She lifted a plate out of the cupboard and set it firmly on the counter before she grabbed a pot holder. “In other words, I don’t have time to answer any more of your questions.”
He couldn’t deny any of that, but wouldn’t be denied his answers, either. He’d been haunted by what those answers could be for too long. Though it may have looked as if he’d gone on with his life, the way he’d continued to hang out with friends and build his phone company, that had all been on the outside. Inside, he’d been hollow, stuck. Trying to get through it, he’d told himself that he loved his life, and had continued to tell himself that, hoping that someday he’d believe it. A wave of anger washed over him. Jenny hadn’t been stuck. She’d gone on with her life as if he’d been nothing but a casual acquaintance she’d once known.
She took the bread out of the oven, and set it on the plate to butter.
“All right,” he said.
There was a definite look of surprise in her brown eyes as she twisted her neck to look at him. “All right what?” she asked slowly.
“You have a lot to do. I see that. I’ve seen that since I arrived.” He walked toward the back door that led to a screened-in porch.
“Thank you for understanding, and thank you for all your help with William, earlier.”
Her tone was softer than a moment ago, almost meek. He kept walking, right out the door. “You’re welcome.”
Once outside, he took a deep breath, and walked toward the greenhouses. He didn’t know anything more about taking care of flowers than he did about babies, but if they needed to be watered, then that’s what he’d do.
The greenhouses were outfitted with everything he needed, including a hand pump and rubber hoses to fill center ditches that ran through the long rows of flowers in their raised beds. Ingenuity had always amazed him, and right now, that included the flower business that took place here. He didn’t know all the different varieties, but there were numerous plants, from seedlings to those that were already blooming.
He checked each row, looking for those that were dry, then positioned the hose and pumped water into the long, shallow ditch for those plants. The ones that were moist, he skipped over. That much he’d learned from his mother and the flower beds she had along the side of the house he’d grown up in and had to weed often enough while growing up.
“What are you doing?”
He was in the second greenhouse, having just finished filling the ditches in the beds with water. Barely glancing at Jenny standing in the doorway, he continued rolling the rubber hose around his hand and elbow in order to replace it near the hand pump. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you are still here,” she said. “I thought you’d left.”
“Did you hear my car leave?”
“No, but I hadn’t heard it arrive, either, so I assumed—”
“That’s because it’s a Phaeton,” he interrupted. “Runs as quiet as a kitten purring, and as smoothly.” He hung the hose on the metal hook nailed to the wall by the pump. “And to answer your question, I just watered the plants for you. Only those that appeared to need it. Too much water can make their petals turn brown.”
“How?” She shook her head. “I didn’t—”
“I know you weren’t asking for my help,” he interrupted again. “And I know about the petals turning brown from my mother. How are the baby and new mother doing? Did she eat her toast?”
“Yes, and they are fine.”
“And the other pregnant girl?”
“She’s fine.”
She still stood in the doorway, even as he began walking toward her. “And William?”
“He’s fine, too.”
He rolled down his shirt sleeves and buttoned his cuffs as he walked. “It must be about time to get your daughter off the bus.”
“It is.” She huffed out a breath and shook her head. “Thank you for watering the plants, Connor, but I need you to leave. Now, before Emily arrives.”
“Why?”
“Because she isn’t used to men being here. I don’t want to frighten her.”
He stopped in front of her, and once again, the desire to touch her flared inside him. Watering the plants had given him plenty of time to think, and to remember that he wasn’t here to fall in love with her again. He was here to find out the truth so he could finally forget her and get on with his life. “Why? Because her father deserted you?”
Jenny averted his gaze. “He didn’t desert us.”
“Is he dead?” That was the only other explanation that he could think of for them being alone.
“Not that I’m aware of—now please, Connor, you need to leave.”
“Not that you’re aware of? What the hell kind of answer is that?”
CHAPTER SIX
“The tru
th!” Jenny pinched her lips together in order to quell the frustration filling every part of her being. She truly had thought he’d left and purposefully hadn’t gone to a window to see if his car was gone because a part of her had hoped he hadn’t left—which was so utterly ridiculous! Her best defense was to stay focused on why he couldn’t be here. “Something you are incapable of doing!”
“Incapable of doing?” He shook his head as if flummoxed. “What am I incapable of doing?”
She had to stop this. Now. “We’ve already been through all this! You need to leave before I have the police remove you!”
Laughter echoed on the ceiling overhead. “How are you going to contact them? You don’t have a phone, furthermore, Twin Pines doesn’t have a police department. The state police would have to come in from Syracuse or Rochester. If it’s Rochester, it could be my brother Mick who shows up.”
A shiver of fear coiled around her spine. “Your brother is a police officer?”
“Yep. He’s with the city, but helps out the state department all the time because he’s the best detective around.”
A detective? Could this get worse?
“You can’t pack up and run away this time, Jenny.”
Anger made her sputter. “Pack up and run away? I didn’t pack up and run away from anything! I didn’t lie and hide in the shadows, either, like some people!”
“Well, you sure as hell weren’t there when I got home!” He threw his arms in the air. “And what the hell are you doing now if not lying and hiding in the shadows?”
Totally furious, she stomped forward and shoved a finger against his chest. “I’m taking care of those I love! Those who need to be taken care of, which is a hell of a lot more than you can say you ever did!” Her percolating fury flooded through her. “But how could you? You don’t even know what love is!”
“Really, and you do?”
“Yes, I do! I know how it can crush a person! Make them do things they would never have otherwise done! Now get in your fancy Phaeton car and get out of here! Don’t ever come back! Ever!”
He shouldered past her, and she stood there trembling and sucking in air. The sound of his car door slamming and the engine roaring into life made her insides jolt, but she refused to turn around. Not even when she heard the tires of his car kicking up gravel as it drove away.
It took several deep breaths before she was stable enough to walk into the greenhouse, to the pump, where she pumped water into her hands and splashed it on her face, washing way the tears. Lifting a towel off the stack kept near the hose, she pressed it against her face and held it there, telling herself Connor was not worth crying over.
She’d told herself that so many times, it shouldn’t have to be repeated.
By the time she removed the towel, her insides were calmer and she was able to straighten her shoulders, but her insides were still a jumbled mess. There wasn’t anything she could do about that, so she set the towel down and left the greenhouse.
The tire impressions in the dirt provided no help in her attempts to collect herself completely before meeting the school bus. It took the sight of Emily jumping out of the back of the bus for that to happen. Holding her hand out, for Emily to run forward and grasp it, Jenny stepped closer to the driver’s window.
“Hello!” Mr. Whipple greeted, his eyes squinting due to his broad smile. “How are you today?”
“I’m well, thank you,” Jenny answered. “Could you please let Alice Dillon know we need her to drive out when she has time?”
“Of course. As soon as I get back to town. Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s everything.” She and Emily stepped away from the bus.
“Say, did you hear they finally fixed the road at the railroad crossing up the road?” he asked.
“No, I hadn’t,” she answered. “But I’m glad they fixed it. It’s needed gravel for months.”
“It sure had!” With a smiling nod at her and a wave to Emily, he shifted the bus into gear.
She and Emily waved as he drove off. “How was your day?” she asked as they began walking up the driveway.
“Is there a new baby?” Emily asked rather than answering.
Jenny smiled. “Yes. Rachel had her baby this morning.”
“Oh, goodie! A boy baby or a girl baby?”
“A girl.”
“Yay! Can I see her?”
“After you change your clothes and eat the biscuits and apple butter on the table for you.”
“Yum! It’s my lucky day! Two snacks! Mr. Whipple gave us a cookie today for the ride home.”
Jenny laughed. “It must be your lucky day.” It hadn’t been hers; that was for sure.
Emily was still eating her snack when the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway made Jenny’s heart drop to her ankles. He couldn’t be back. Please, no. She couldn’t take much more of him.
The short amount of time it took to walk to the front door wasn’t enough to fully put her in the state of mind to face Connor again, but thankfully, it wasn’t needed. The car wasn’t his.
Jenny opened the door and stepped onto the porch as the black, older-model Ford pulled up in front of the house. “How on earth did you get my message so quickly?” she asked as the car door opened.
“He said I needed to get out here right away,” Alice Dillon said, lifting her bag out of the backseat.
Jenny sucked in a gulp of air so quickly, it hurt. “Who?” She knew. Oh, yes, she knew. Mr. Whipple hadn’t had time to make it to town yet, but someone else had.
“Connor McCormick.” Alice hurried forward. “What’s wrong? Were there difficulties with the delivery? The baby? The mother?”
“No, the delivery went well and they are both fine,” Jenny answered. “They just need to be checked, at your earliest convenience. Not immediately.”
Alice let out a tiny laugh. “Well, I’m here, so let’s go check on them, then.”
Jenny had to once again quell the frustration filling her over Connor’s interference. An interference that was not necessary. She was fully capable of taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of. The girls, the house, her daughter, the greenhouses. She’d been doing it for years and the idea that he was attempting to undermine her efforts and capabilities went beyond irritation.
Alice was in the midst of her examinations when the sounds of another vehicle pulled into the yard, this one easily recognized by the rattles and clangs unique to Gretchen’s delivery truck. Gretchen and Joyce bounded in the back door moments later.
“Rachel?” Gretchen asked, walking to the sink. “I saw how low she was carrying that baby last night.”
“Yes, Rachel,” Jenny answered. “A baby girl around noon today.”
“It went well?” Gretchen asked while washing her hands.
“Yes, both are fine. Alice should be down to confirm that soon.”
“Rachel named her baby Annie,” Emily provided. “Isn’t that a nice name for a baby?”
Gretchen dried her hands and then used the corner of the towel to tickle the tip of Emily’s nose. “Yes, it is. Almost as nice as Emily.”
Emily giggled, and then turned back to focus on tying William’s shoes as he sat in the high chair.
“Lora?” Gretchen asked.
“She’s resting,” Jenny replied. “She was a great help this morning.”
“It’s always a little scary, watching someone else go through labor, when you are so close yourself,” Gretchen said.
“Yes, it is.” Jenny would never forget helping with her first delivery, only days before she’d gone through it all herself.
“I’ll take these two outside,” Joyce said, lifting William out of the chair. “They can help me unload the truck.”
“How did the deliveries go?” Jenny asked as the children and Joyce walked out the back door.
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“The deliveries went fine.” Gretchen sighed and shook her head.
Jenny’s heart sank. The Albany Moral Hospitality Institute, the home as they all referred to it, had a new director, making it more difficult for girls who wanted a different option than the two offered—sign the adoption papers before the baby was born, or afterward. If they signed before, their families were provided a reduction in the cost of their stay at the home. Along with that option came visitation rights. At a cost of five dollars more per week, for those who didn’t sign, also came “housekeeping” chores.
Most girls were residents of the institute for a few months, but her mother and stepfather had paid for her nine-month stay in advance, on the night they’d dropped her off. Cloaked in the darkness of night, her stepfather had driven down the long narrow driveway, lined with trees and canopied by heavy branches that had darkened the road even more. He’d stayed in the car while her mother had escorted her into the large brick building, where they’d been met by Dr. Amos Mayor, who’d taken them into a room and examined her to confirm her pregnancy.
Her stomach clenched at the memory and her gag reflex kicked in, making her move to the sink as she cupped a hand over her mouth.
The swooshing noise in her ears faded enough for her to hear someone say her name. She held up a hand, saying she’d be fine in a moment. The memory just had to fade away.
The disruption in her stomach eased, and she closed her eyes, drew in a breath and blew it out.
A glass of water was handed to her. She took a sip and stared out the window above the sink, where she could see Emily holding on to William’s hands, helping him take awkward steps through the grass.
The image did the job of sending memories back into the far recesses of her mind. She drank more water, then dumped out the glass, rinsed it and set it on the side of the sink.
When she turned, Gretchen and Alice were in the kitchen. Although there was concern in their eyes, neither said a word. There wasn’t a woman who passed through this house who didn’t have flashbacks.
Jenny pulled up a smile. “How are Rachel and Annie?”
“Perfect,” Alice said, setting the red-and-white kitchen scale on the counter. “Six pounds, ten ounces, and nineteen inches long.”
Harlequin Historical May 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 53
