“Never in anger, Tabby. Never.” He shook his head and blinked against the stinging sensation. “Or with inappropriateness. I care far too much for you.”
“So you say at this moment.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I let Harper’s words affect me more than I should have. My mother tried to teach me that the opinion of other people shouldn’t matter. But it does, sometimes.” With a visible struggle to contain herself, she gave a firm nod, then spun to go back to the restaurant.
Her walking away cast a cloud over the day. He needed to head back to the kitchen, but instead leaned against the rough wood of the train depot and prayed for Tabby’s pain and for her to gain a renewed faith in men. Him in particular. How could he gain her trust and win her love if she shied away from him? He wished there was a way for her to see how his parents interacted with each other.
The train whistle blew. The passengers would be reboarding. Adam pushed away from the wall. Stepping to the platform, he noticed a very wet Pastor Harper boarding. Good riddance. Maybe by Sunday, they’d have a new pastor. One who wasn’t as narrow-minded.
Adam kicked a rock onto the train track. He wanted to get involved in church. For the first time since reaching adulthood he wasn’t helping mentor younger believers. Maybe if they did get a new pastor, he could convince Tabby to help him in his ministry. That would be a way to spend approved time together, hopefully without a chaperone.
As he passed through the restaurant on his way to the kitchen, he tossed Tabby what he thought was a reassuring smile. He hoped it didn’t look as sad as he felt. He could only hope his efforts to win her would not be in vain. A sharp pain stabbed his heart, and he gasped.
He needed to give her over to God. But could he?
On his way to the kitchen, Adam grabbed his apron from a hook beside the kitchen door and then marched to the counter where one of his helpers chopped potatoes. Another stirred a pot of brown gravy. He almost felt unneeded now that the restaurant was fully staffed. Other than conferring with Hastings and Miss O’Connor about the menu, he mostly delegated tasks.
Once he owned his own restaurant, all that would change. He tied his apron around his waist and donned his chef hat. He could easily see Tabby working beside him at Foster’s Eatery. With her pretty face greeting customers, they’d have more work than they could handle. Of course, Daphne’s youthful exuberance wouldn’t hurt either.
He directed one of the busboys to take fresh coffee out to the drink girls. The boy loaded several pitchers of boiling water onto the rolling cart, then barreled through the swinging doors, knocking a stack of baskets over on his way out. A few minutes later, he returned for more hot water.
“Slow down, son.” Adam waved a wooden spoon in his direction. “And pick up those baskets.”
“Right away, sir.” The boy nodded hard enough for a curl of his dark hair to fall forward over his eyes. “As soon as I take in the last of this water.” He dashed away, sending the cart careering ahead of him.
A loud clatter alerted the rest of the staff to catastrophe.
Someone screamed.
Chapter 16
Scalding water splashed against Tabby’s legs, soaking her stockings and the hem of her uniform. She sagged against the counter and bit her lip.
The poor busboy crawled around her feet, sopping up the spilled water. Despite her pain, a chuckle escaped Tabby when he went to lift her skirts to dab at her legs. “That’s quite all right, thank you, I can manage from here.”
Miss O’Connor took her by the arm and led her into the kitchen. “No sense in entertaining the customers.” She helped Tabby into a chair beside the work island. “Remove your stockings immediately, Miss McClelland. Mr. Foster, a pail of cool water and a clean towel, please.”
Tabby removed her shoes and stockings then hid her face in her hands. Mortification burned hotter than the water when Miss O’Connor slid up her skirts and applied cold compresses to her legs. Such a ninny to carry on so, screaming and practically collapsing in full view of the restaurant. Now, Adam knelt beside the head waitress to make her embarrassment complete.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled through her fingers. “Really, I am.”
“Your skin is red and inflamed. Straight to bed. I’ll send up some ointment at the first opportunity.” Miss O’Connor straightened. “Mr. Foster, please assist Miss McClelland.”
Tabby jerked upright. “But, Miss O’Connor, it wouldn’t be proper.” Have mercy. He’d seen way too much of what he shouldn’t already.
“I’m not asking the man to enter your room, only to make sure you make it that far.” She waved her hand. “Go on, now.”
Adam grasped her arm and helped her stand. The coolness of the kitchen’s tile floor eased some of the pain in her feet. If only she could lay her flushed cheeks against the polished floor or possibly sink out of sight altogether.
“Should I carry you?” The concern on Adam’s handsome face brought tears to her eyes.
“No, I can manage, thank you. Really, there’s no need for you to accompany me. I’ll go to my room, change and be back at work in a moment.”
“Oh, no, you will not.” Miss O’Connor crossed her arms. “We can manage a day without you. After all, we managed without Mr. Foster for several days.”
“But not because of his clumsiness.” Tabby pulled free of Adam’s grasp. “I am perfectly fine. I will change, spread ointment on the burned areas and return to work.” Head held high, shoes and socks gripped tightly in her hand, Tabby marched from the kitchen and up the stairs, ignoring the pain in her shins. She would not show weakness after acting so foolishly brave.
From the heavier steps behind her, she knew without looking that Adam trailed after. “This isn’t necessary.” She stopped and placed her hand on the doorframe.
“It is.” He strolled toward her. “I care for you. It hurts me when you are injured.”
She turned her head, unwilling to see the pain in his eyes. “We can’t do this, Adam.”
“Why? What?” With his index finger, he turned her face toward his.
“This.” She waved an arm. “We want different things from life. You can’t keep jumping to my aid.”
“I can. I will.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You are jeopardizing our friendship.” Couldn’t he see that? By requesting something more, he threatened what they had.
“I’m no longer content to just be friends.”
“Then you’ve made the decision to dissolve our relationship.” Tabby stepped into her room and closed the door. After a few moments, his footsteps receded. She threw herself across her bed and sobbed.
* * *
Adam stomped down the stairs, fighting the urge to punch the wall. Infuriating woman! All he wanted to do was help her. He’d caught a glimpse of her legs before he averted his gaze. The red skin had looked tender. Why couldn’t she let him help her?
When she’d screamed, he’d thought of nothing but to get to her side. Miss O’Connor had beat him, but Adam had hovered like a nervous mother. Or a man in love.
Back in the kitchen, he ignored the curious glances of his staff and banged pans while preparing lunch. Let them stare. He owed no one an explanation.
Once he had stew bubbling and a roast in the oven, he barged out the back door and stared in the direction of the woods. His conversation upstairs with Tabby effectively put a halt to their evening conversations, of that he had no doubt. What an idiot he was. Why couldn’t he have moved slower? Courted her more?
Show her what a good man is like, Ma said. How could he when she didn’t want him around? There had been moments before his trip home when he’d actually thought they were making progress in their relationship. How mistaken he was.
If only he had the money to head to California, but he was a few months short. If Pa got a good price for the fa
rm, and was able to rent the house back from the new owner, maybe Adam could leave sooner than planned. He’d send a telegram home tomorrow.
He shouldn’t waste any more time on a woman who didn’t want him. Tabitha McClelland was ripping his heart apart, piece by piece. Soon, a big wind would blow him away.
* * *
Tabby blew her nose and splashed water from the porcelain basin on her dresser on her face. She needed to avoid Adam. The ever-present pain in his eyes would be her undoing.
A knock sounded on the door. She dried her face and padded barefoot to the door. “Who is it?”
“Maggie from the kitchen.”
Tabby opened the door to a child of maybe fourteen. The girl thrust a metal canister and bandages at Tabby. “Here. The wagon boss sent it.” She whirled and dashed away.
Tabby’s legs stung, but the healing balm would bring welcome relief. She sat in a chair and hefted her skirts above the knee. “It doesn’t look that bad.” She popped the lid to the small can and dug her fingers into a greasy substance that smelled like cut grass.
Hissing against the pain, she spread a thick film on her legs, then wrapped them in white cotton before donning fresh stockings. She wouldn’t scar, and most likely by tomorrow, her legs would feel as if she’d never gotten burned.
Next time, she’d stay away from the door until making sure no one was going to barrel through. If only keeping her eyes open and paying attention would resolve her conflict with Adam as easily. She would miss his company.
Tears started fresh. What a cruel joke life played. Send her a man who might prove all men weren’t scoundrels, but put such a fear in Tabby’s heart, she couldn’t risk finding out. Her gaze fell on the Bible beside her bed.
Tonight, she’d search God’s Word for answers.
Chapter 17
Tabby watched as Adam chopped ice. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her against the brisk fall wind. They’d all prayed for a continuation of an Indian summer, but obviously God had other plans. She turned away when Adam glanced her way.
With her contract expiring in a little over a month, she’d taken to avoiding him, even forgoing their nightly chats on the back stoop. There was no sense in encouraging him. After all, he’d be leaving soon, and so would she.
Weeks ago he’d approached her about helping minister to the church’s youth. It had taken some convincing on his part that the new pastor was nothing like the last. While she loved the opportunity to minister, it brought her in close proximity to him. She didn’t think her heart could take much more.
“We need more ice.” Annie, one of the older girls, shivered next to her. “And it’s freezing.”
“We’ll have to move the ice cream social into the fellowship hall.” Tabby tucked a stray strand of the girl’s auburn hair behind her ear. At least there was little chance of the ice melting too quickly. “Why don’t you get a couple of the stronger boys to carry things inside?”
She grinned. “Yes, ma’am. And I know just the two to do it.” She dashed away.
Tabby chuckled. Most likely the girl ran off to Bo, a handsome young man she appeared to have had her eye on for some time. Her laughter faded. Oh, to be that young. On days like today, when her thoughts were heavy, Tabby felt much older than her nineteen years.
Maybe she should have sent Annie to fetch the ice, and inform the boys herself. Now, she’d have to speak to Adam. His demeanor toward her lately had been anything but warm, not that she blamed him. Poor man was obviously confused by her cooling manner toward him.
Ducking her head against the wind, she set off with strong strides, stopping just out of reach of flying ice shards. Without speaking, she knelt and started tossing them into a nearby bucket.
“It’s unusually cold today.” Adam straightened, the ax hanging by his side.
“Yes, it is.” So, their conversations had fallen to trivial matters like the weather. It was for the best, she figured. “We’re moving the social inside. I doubt the church members will mind.”
“Probably not.” He sighed. “Heard Mr. Harvey arrives tomorrow with a new manager.”
Tabby glanced up, forgetting her resolve not to make eye contact. “A new manager, why?”
“It’s just a rumor, but I’ve heard there have been too many complaints from the girls about Mr. Hastings’s behavior.” His gaze searched her face, looking for something she wasn’t ready to give. “The man’s had it coming, in my opinion.”
A shadow crossed his features. “Go get out of the wind. I’ll bring the ice.”
Miss O’Connor had mentioned in passing the other day that one of the other restaurants needed a girl to fill in for a week. Tabby decided she would volunteer. She and Adam needed some time apart for them both to sort out their feelings. With Tabby gone, maybe Adam would realize how futile his aspirations were toward her and find another girl to claim his attention.
So why did the thought leave her heart crying? Tabitha McClelland was a fool, and she knew it, but she’d dug herself into a hole so big, so deep, she had no idea how to get out.
She stood and dusted off her knees. The church, and the town, seemed proof that loving marriages existed, at least outwardly. Why wasn’t she willing to take the chance? Because the McClelland women were unlucky, that’s why. Even Grandma had married a scoundrel who spent his day at the saloon, spending every coin he earned on gambling and whiskey. Tabby hitched her skirt and practically sprinted for the church.
Instead of going inside, she dashed around the corner and out of sight. Free from prying eyes, she let her tears fall. God, why couldn’t she get over the pain of her childhood? Her mother’s mistakes didn’t need to be Tabby’s as well. Surely, love was free for everyone. She shook her head.
Not free. Love came at a great cost. A cost of submission and risk. She raised her face toward heaven. Why couldn’t she pay that cost? Maybe it wasn’t that she couldn’t, but that she wasn’t willing.
Adam called out a greeting to someone. Tabby pressed closer to the church siding. If he caught her crying, he would question her reasons and offer her aid. She banged the back of her head on the wall and struggled to gain control of her emotions.
“Are you in need of assistance?” Mr. Hastings approached, a leer on his thin face. “I can help you, if it’s company you need.”
Tabby shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m only taking a moment of peace for myself.”
“I’ll join you.” He sidled close until their arms touched. “I’m sure you’re aware that I will be leaving soon.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “It would please me to have such a fine-looking woman on my arm.” The stench of alcohol wafted on his breath.
She pulled away, fighting back nausea. “Please, sir, we’re on church ground.”
“I found it rather funny when you dumped the water on Pastor Harper, but still thought you needed reprimanding and I thought to add two numbers to your ranking.” He straightened. “But decided it was most likely an accident, and decided to forgive you.”
“It was no accident.” Her hands balled into fists in her pockets. “I’m asking you to leave me alone or regret the consequences.”
“Oh, I do like them feisty.” He pressed against her. “I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” He gripped her face in his hands. “I leave tomorrow. Come with me.”
Tabby aimed a kick at his shin and missed. He pressed harder against her. Bile rose in her throat as he attempted to prove her earlier thoughts untrue about men being able to redeem themselves.
A scream burst from her throat. Mr. Hastings clapped a hand over her mouth. She bit the fleshy part of his palm. He reared back with a roar and laid a strong punch to her jaw.
She crumpled to the ground.
* * *
When Adam heard Tabby scream, he felt as though someone ripped his heart out. When he sa
w her on the ground, he knew his heart lay in pieces. He yelled and charged Hastings, tackling the man to the ground, oblivious to the container of cream he still held in his hand. Knowing the woman he loved was in danger, it hadn’t occurred to him to dump the cream into the second container for ice cream. Instead, he kept it clutched like a life line and flew outside.
Now, both men rolled on the ground streaked with sticky liquid.
Adam laid a strong uppercut to Hastings’s nose. Blood gushed and mingled with the cream.
“Stop it!” Tabby grabbed at his shirt. “This is a house of God.”
Soon, men from the church swarmed around them and pulled them apart. Chest heaving, Adam took another step toward Hastings. How dare he strike a woman.
“Adam, please.”
He turned to see Tabby, tears running and an already-darkening bruise on her cheek. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, unmindful of the blood and cream. He ran his hands down her arms. “Please tell me you aren’t injured.”
“I’m not.” She stepped back and raised a hand to his face, then apparently second-guessed touching him. She let her hand drop. “Oh, Adam. Look at you. Look at me. Brawling at church.” She waved an arm toward the crowd. “With all the church looking on.”
“What would you have me do? He struck you.” His shoulders slumped. “I think God would understand in this instance.”
Two men helped Hastings to his feet. Adam glared and took a step toward them. One man held up his hand, and Adam stopped. “He isn’t worth any more of my time.” He grabbed Tabby’s arm and marched away, dragging her with him.
“I’m going to clean up. I suggest you do the same, before we finish this ice cream social.” He glanced around at the group of young people following them. “Go ahead and finish the ice cream, folks. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He ushered Tabby ahead of him to the restaurant, restraining himself from throttling the silly girl. Couldn’t she see how much he cared? That he cared enough to strike another man in her defense?
Cooking Up Love Page 11
