“Did she also have an immediate need for a changing table? And a high chair? And a stroller? And an automatic swing? And an entire wardrobe of baby outfits? Not to mention the toys and boxes of diapers and the monitor system and—”
Adam broke in with an impatient shake of his head. “I just called the store this morning and told them to send around everything we’d need for a newborn,” he explained. “What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” Jenny repeated, looking stunned. “There must be hundreds of dollars worth of stuff sitting in the den! I can’t begin to pay for it. It’ll probably take everything I have to repair my car. And I still haven’t been billed for the doctor appointments Melissa and I had yesterday.”
“Er—those are already taken care of,” Adam said. “And so is your car. As for paying for this stuff—forget it. I ordered it, I’ll pay for it.”
Jenny’s mouth opened, then closed again. “If you really think I’m going to let you pay my bills and buy my daughter’s supplies, like I’m some sort of—of kept woman, you can just think again. I want it taken back. All of it. And I fully intend to reimburse you for the doctor appointments. Is that clear?”
Adam knew better than to grin, though her use of the term “kept woman” deeply amused him. He couldn’t help thinking that it sounded just like something Granny Fran would say.
Jenny was eyeing him suspiciously, her eyes going even darker. “Don’t you dare be amused at me,” she snarled. “I am very serious.”
“I know you’re serious, Jenny,” he said soothingly, thinking longingly of a cup of coffee and the morning paper he hadn’t yet had a chance to read. He seemed to spend most of his time lately soothing agitated women, he silently bemoaned.
“If it’s important to you to reimburse me for the appointments, then do so. No rush, just make it whenever you feel comfortable about it. As for the things I bought Melissa, they’re gifts to her, not to you. I delivered her, and that makes her very special to me. You didn’t seem to mind taking shower presents from your friends in Dallas—why would you refuse to accept these things from me?”
“That’s—that’s different,” Jenny said, her voice lowering.
“Why is it different?”
“Because—they were my friends. And no one person spent so lavishly.”
“I like to think I’m your friend, too,” Adam said a bit coolly. “After all we’ve been through together, I wouldn’t have thought that was too much of an assumption on my part. As for the cost of my gifts, I have the money and this is what I wanted to do with it. It’s not charity, Jenny, no matter what you’ve decided in that stubborn, suspicious mind of yours. I just wanted to buy a few nice things for Melissa.”
Jenny threw up her hands. “You aren’t being fair. I know you’re fond of Melissa, but—”
“I’m crazy about her.” Adam corrected her with a smile. “And, for your information, I sent Rachel the same things when Paige was born. Oddly enough, she claimed it was too much, too, and she worried that I was being charitable because she and Ray were a young married couple with a rather limited income at the time. I can’t understand why either of you would deny me the chance to do something nice for your kids.”
Jenny made a sound of impatience. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Making me feel guilty for yelling at you. It doesn’t matter how good your intentions were, Adam, the problem is that you’ve acted on my behalf again without consulting me first. I’ve told you I don’t want you to do that.”
“Well, actually, I acted on Melissa’s behalf,” he muttered. It wasn’t as though he’d sent Jenny diamonds or lingerie or anything, he thought wearily. What could possibly be inappropriate about gifts of diapers and baby furniture?
“I don’t want you doing that, either,” Jenny said evenly. “Melissa is my responsibility, Adam, not yours. I’ll take care of her.”
“Fine,” he said irritably. “Send the stuff back if you want. I can’t make you keep it.”
She bit her lower lip. “Well—”
He could see her vacillating. He took immediately advantage. “I’d like Melissa to have the things. I really would. But if it makes you uncomfortable—”
“All right,” she said with a sigh. “I can see you really want her to have them. I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful, Adam. I am. It touches me that you’ve grown fond of Melissa. But, please. Don’t do anything like this again. Not without talking to me first.”
“Okay. Fine. Whatever you say.”
She surprised him then by laughing. It was only a little chuckle, but a laugh, nonetheless. “Somehow that just doesn’t sound right, coming from you.”
Adam smiled. “Where’s Melissa?”
“She’s in the den, asleep in her infant seat, surrounded by all her new possessions.”
Adam nodded and headed for the den. He expected Jenny to follow, but she stayed behind. “I’ll finish dinner,” she said. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
Adam smiled in satisfaction when he entered the den and saw Melissa sitting contentedly in her seat. She seemed to be just waking from her nap; she roused fully when he knelt beside her. Her dark eyes fixed on his face, and Adam fancied he saw a gleam of recognition in them.
“Hi, kid. How was your day?” He was already unbuckling the safety straps on her seat as he spoke.
Melissa didn’t answer, of course, but she seemed pleased to be picked up and held.
“How do you like your stuff?” he asked, cradling her in the crook of his left arm while he scanned the neat piles of goodies. “I’ll set your crib up after dinner. There should be a musical mobile in one of these boxes. I bet you’ll like that, hmm?”
Melissa kicked her feet as though in anticipation.
Smiling, Adam carried the baby to an overstuffed rocker-recliner and settled in with her.
It was amazing, he thought, how holding a baby could be so relaxing after a long day at the office. He set the rocker into lazy motion and began to tell Melissa about his day.
* * *
Jenny found them like that when she entered a short while later to announce that dinner was ready. Her steps faltered at the sight of Adam holding her baby, and looking utterly content.
Maybe he really had grown fond of Melissa, she found herself thinking. Maybe he really had bought the baby supplies just because it had made him happy to do so. To be honest, she really couldn’t think of any other reason for him to have bought them.
Adam was a generous, if high-handed, man. His intentions were good. It was just his methods that were questionable.
Jenny had fully intended to serve Adam his dinner in the dining room and then slip into the kitchen to eat her own meal. She had told herself repeatedly during the day that it was time to get their relationship on a pleasant, but strictly professional basis. Employer, employee. Nothing more.
His bond with her child had already blurred the lines between personal and professional.
He scowled when she proposed her dining arrangements. “Nonsense,” he said. “I’ll eat in the kitchen with you. I’d look pretty stupid sitting at that huge dining room table alone.”
Jenny was too tired to bother arguing.
She wouldn’t win anyway.
* * *
Adam was very complimentary about Jenny’s cooking. She wasn’t particularly flattered that he seemed rather surprised that she could.
After dinner, Adam carried the new baby items upstairs. At Jenny’s request, he set the crib up in one corner of her room. The extra things he set in the bedroom next door, for her to utilize as she needed them.
Jenny lay the baby in the crib on her back. Adam wound up the musical, farm-animal mobile he’d attached to one rail. He and Jenny stood shoulder to shoulder, leaning over the other rail as they watched Melissa stare in fascination at the colorful, slowly revolving toy.
Adam chuckled. “I think she likes it.”
“I think you’re ri
ght,” Jenny agreed. She glanced up at Adam, then blinked, suddenly realizing just how closely he stood to her. So close their shoulders brushed when they moved. She went very still.
Adam’s smile faded. Their eyes locked.
Jenny’s mouth went dry.
Adam lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. The touch of his fingers against her skin made her tremble.
She didn’t want to think about why.
“Want to watch TV with me tonight?” Adam asked. “There’s probably a movie on cable.”
“I—er—” She was tempted. But scared. She didn’t want to step too far over that invisible line she’d drawn between personal and professional. “I think I’ll stay up here this evening. I have some letters to write. I told some of my friends I’d let them know when the baby came.”
The warmth seemed to fade in his eyes. “Fine,” he said, shifting a couple of inches away. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Good night, Adam.”
“Good night. Sleep well.” He didn’t look back over his shoulder when he left the room. He closed the door behind him, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary.
Jenny let out a long, deep breath.
“Your mother,” she told Melissa wryly, “is an idiot. But I hope I’m not foolish enough to fall for Adam Stone. No matter how nice he can be when he tries.”
Melissa made a sound that might have been a snort.
Chapter Eleven
Carrying Melissa in a padded sling against her chest, Jenny moved through Adam’s house late Thursday afternoon with a dust cloth in one hand and a can of dusting spray in the other. The sling, of course, had been among the mountain of baby supplies Adam had provided. Jenny had quickly discovered that it was one of her favorite gifts. She liked having Melissa so close to her, and Melissa seemed content to ride along during her mother’s light housekeeping duties.
There really wasn’t much to do to the house. Apparently Adam had had it thoroughly cleaned just before he’d left for his disrupted vacation. But Jenny conscientiously wiped down every surface she could reach, telling herself there was no reason to wait any longer to begin her duties.
Besides, it gave her a great excuse to explore the rest of the house. The elegant dining room. The medical-book-lined study that Adam obviously used as a home office. In the prim parlor stood a gorgeous grand piano that looked as though it had never been played. The huge, window-lined gathering room could have been casual and comfortable with just a few minor changes. The four upstairs bedrooms, each beautifully decorated, each hauntingly empty. The upstairs lounge that could easily have been a teenager’s game room or study area.
She hesitated before going into Adam’s suite, but then told herself that she was only doing her job by dusting in there, as well. She opened the door and tiptoed in.
She wondered if Adam had had a personal hand in decorating this part of the house. For the first time, she caught a glimpse of his personality in his furnishings.
She would bet he spent most of his time here when he was alone in the house.
The bed was enormous, supremely inviting. The massive triple dresser was haphazardly cluttered with keys, spare change and a pair of reading glasses she’d never seen him wear, even at the cabin. She smiled, wondering if he was too vain to wear them, or simply couldn’t remember to do so.
The sitting room was an L-shaped extension to the bedroom. A well-worn recliner faced a small fireplace. A book lay open, facedown, in its seat. A mystery novel, of course. A newspaper lay on the floor beside the chair. The walls were lined with bookcases, the shelves crowded with books, almost all works of fiction, in contrast to the medical tomes in the study. An entertainment cabinet held a television, a VCR, a stereo system with a CD carousel and an impressive number of CDs of an eclectic mix.
Jenny had noticed that there were no photographs displayed anywhere in Adam’s house. She found them now, marching neatly down the fireplace mantel. The frames, of course, needed dusting—or at least she told herself they did as she studied each photograph.
There was one of a small boy who looked endearingly like Adam—probably five or six years old—with two adults. His parents, she would guess. The man looked very nice. Adam’s dark hair and eyes, but an easy, lazy smile that made her suspect he hadn’t been as intense and serious as Adam was.
The woman, surely Adam’s mother Arlene, looked pretty much the way Jenny had pictured her. Not a hair out of place, face meticulously made-up, clothing expensive and tasteful. She had one hand on her husband’s shoulder and one on her son’s, and she looked very proud of them. Jenny felt a touch of sympathy. The woman looked as though she’d loved her husband very much. It must have been very difficult for her to lose him so soon after this portrait had been made.
Did Adam feel the same sympathy for his mother? Was that why he seemed so patient with what had been described to Jenny as quite difficult behavior now?
She put the portrait down and picked up another. A pretty, brown-haired woman and two small children posed self-consciously for the camera. The woman bore a faint family resemblance to Adam. Her dark eyes held a touch of sadness.
Rachel, Jenny thought. Adam’s favorite cousin, who’d been widowed very young. And these must be her children, Paige and Aaron. Cute kids. She set the photo back down, hoping that the sadness had left Rachel’s eyes now that she’d found love again.
The other photo was a snapshot that had been enlarged to a five-by-seven. It appeared to have been taken very recently. Granny Fran sat proudly in the center, surrounded by her grown grandchildren. Adam stood behind her, wearing his faint, enigmatic smile. Jenny looked quickly away from him, annoyed that her heart rate had increased in response to even that brief glimpse of him.
The woman she’d already guessed to be Rachel stood at Adam’s left. Cody knelt beside his grandmother’s chair, his bright blue eyes gleaming with mischief, his gold-tipped hair attractively disheveled. He really was gorgeous, Jenny thought dispassionately. She’d grown to like him during the short time she’d spent with him. So how come her pulse didn’t do anything strange when she looked at him, hmm?
The other young woman in the photo had to be the other cousin, Celia. She had Rachel’s dark hair and Cody’s blue eyes and bright smile, and the combination was incredibly striking. Breathtaking, actually.
It was a lovely family. No wonder Granny Fran looked so proud.
Jenny replaced the frame on the mantel and stood looking at the grouping thoughtfully. So much of Adam was revealed right here, she mused. His family was so important to him. She suspected that his work and his family were really the only two things he cared deeply about.
Did he often sit in his chair in his room, looking at those photos and thinking of how alone he was here in this big, empty house? Or was he perfectly content to be alone, as long as he knew his family was well cared for?
Melissa squirmed in the sling, bringing Jenny out of her thoughts. She patted the baby’s back. “We’re finished in here for now,” she said, turning away from the mantel.
The chime of the front doorbell stopped her before she’d made it all the way to the kitchen, where she’d intended to make herself a cup of tea and put up her feet for a few minutes. She hastily stashed the dusting supplies out of sight and altered her steps to take her to the front of the house.
“If this is another deliveryman with a stack of gifts—for either of us—I’m going to have Adam Stone’s hide,” she told Melissa, who only watched her somberly from the depths of the blue gingham sling.
The caller wasn’t a deliveryman.
A middle-aged woman with immaculately styled gray-frosted hair, meticulously applied makeup and tastefully expensive clothing stood beneath the front portico, an Etienne Aigner purse clutched in her perfectly manicured hands.
Jenny knew immediately who she was.
Adam’s mother wasn’t ill-bred enough to gape at Jenny, but she came close. It obviously t
ook her a moment to recover from her surprise. “You’re the housekeeper?”
“Yes. I’m Jenny Newcomb. May I help you?”
The woman was staring at the wriggling bundle strapped to Jenny’s chest. “Is that an infant you’re carrying?”
Jenny fought down a surge of irritation. “This is my daughter, Melissa. And you are—?” she asked, though she already knew.
The woman drew herself up to her full height. “I am Mrs. Jason Stone,” she announced. “Dr. Stone’s mother.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Stone. Ad—er—Dr. Stone isn’t home right now, but I’m expecting him soon. Would you like to come in and wait for him?”
“I believe I will.” Mrs. Stone swept past her with a flourish.
“Perhaps you’d like to have a seat in the parlor,” Jenny suggested, at a loss as to what to do with the woman. “May I bring you a cup of tea? Or would you prefer coffee?”
Mrs. Stone slipped out of her coat and turned to Jenny. “I’ll have tea, thank you. And I’ll take it in the breakfast room.”
Jenny swallowed and nodded, reaching for the coat. “I’ll hang this up for you,” she murmured, opening the coat closet beneath the stairs.
Mrs. Stone watched her closely. “I see you know your way around the house. How long have you worked for my son?”
“This is my first week,” Jenny said, wondering if Adam had told his mother any details about how they’d met—one week ago today, to be exact.
She closed the closet and moved toward the kitchen to start the tea, one hand supporting Melissa’s back. Mrs. Stone followed right at her heels.
Oh, Adam, please hurry home! Jenny sent out the silent SOS without much hope of it being received.
* * *
Adam entered his house that evening with more enthusiasm than usual. “Jenny? Hey, Jen? Guess what?” he called out, anxious to tell her that her car repairs were underway, and that her insurance company was taking care of everything.
“If you are bellowing for your housekeeper, she’s upstairs, Adam. Nursing her child, I believe.”
A Home for Adam Page 14
