Courting Miss Adelaide Page 10

  Charles’s gaze locked with hers. “Perhaps you need to rethink that.”

  Was he suggesting they spend more time together?

  “Miss Adelaide, don’t you like your food?” Emma said, breaking the link between them. “Remember ‘waste not, want not’ like your mama always said?”

  Noticing Charles’s clean plate, Adelaide flushed. Charles pushed back from the table and laid an ankle across his knee, looking more at ease than she’d felt in her entire life. Horrified this man could turn her into a stammering mass of nerves when she intended to show him she could take care of herself and a child, she fought his charm.

  “The food’s delicious.” Though, she could barely remember what she’d eaten. “I’m taking my time, enjoying every bite.”

  “No hurry.” Charles patted his torso. “We need to digest our food so we have room for dessert.”

  “Do they have chocolate cake?” Emma asked.

  “Yes. Pie, too. The hotel’s cream pies melt in your mouth.”

  With the promise of dessert, Emma got to work on her meal.

  Charles turned back to Adelaide. “Tell me something about you. You don’t have any living family?”

  “No, no one.” Adelaide took a sip of water. “How about you?”

  He straightened and dropped his foot to the floor. “You probably know Sam died two years ago,” he said his tone subdued.

  Adelaide nodded.

  “My mother died when I was sixteen. So all I have is Mary and her two boys.

  “I got a brother,” Emma chimed in. “William and me slept on the floor. He told me stories.” She sighed. “Papa left us and then Mama died….” Tears welled up in the little girl’s eyes.

  Adelaide’s gaze collided with Charles’s look of dismay. “Before you know it, you’ll be back with William,” Adelaide assured her, dreading the prospect.

  “Why can’t William live with us?”

  Adelaide’s heart went out to the loneliness in the girl’s voice. “Rules, sweetie.” She hated those rules herself, rules preventing her from having Emma permanently.

  “How about ordering that cake?” Charles said, his words putting a smile on Emma’s face.

  Charles summoned the waiter and ordered dessert. Emma clanked her fork and spoon together a few times, then rose from her seat, almost tipping her chair.

  “Sit down, honey,” Adelaide said.

  “I’m tired of sitting,” Emma whined.

  “I know, but you want that chocolate cake, don’t you?”

  Emma nodded and returned to her seat. Soon Emma swung her feet against the rungs of her chair, the sound echoing through the quiet, high-ceilinged room. Adelaide bit her lip, trying to hide her disquiet. She’d hoped to show Charles her mothering skills, not to look inept.

  Across from her, Charles reached into his coat pocket and brought out a pad of paper and pencil. “As a boy, I had a dog I called Rusty. Part Irish Setter. He had long ears like this.”

  Emma’s feet stilled as Charles began sketching the dog, his hand moving quickly across the paper. She slid from her chair to stand beside him, watching him draw one animal after another.

  His delightful little drawings charmed Adelaide as much as they did Emma. “I didn’t know you were artistic. Do you draw the political cartoons on the editorial page?”

  Charles glanced up. “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He gave her a small pleased smile. “Thank you.”

  The man had many layers. Each time she saw him, Adelaide discovered something that added to her appraisal. He’d been able to calm Emma when she had not, yet she doubted he’d lowered his opinion of her as a mother.

  Still, he remained a man. Even as she thought it, she knew this mistrust of men came from her mother. She needed to evaluate things on her own.

  The waiter arrived, carrying a tray with Emma’s dessert and two cups of coffee. Emma scrambled back into her chair, Charles’s drawings forgotten. In minutes, Emma’s unrest vanished as quickly as her dessert.

  Eager to know the details that made up Charles’s past, Adelaide said, “Tell me more about your dog.”

  “We had lots of dogs, not only Rusty, sometimes two or three at a time. They lived out back in a pen.” Charles took a sip of his coffee. “Did you have a dog, Addie?”

  “No, I wanted a cat, but Mama couldn’t abide cat hair on her furniture. I found a toad once and kept it in a box in my room. Until Mama found it and said it’d give me warts.”

  “Me and William had a kitty,” Emma said. “Mama called Felicia the best mouser in the building. Will you draw my cat?”

  “Sure, what did she look like?”

  A smile spread across Emma’s chocolate-speckled face. “Like a gray-and-white striped tiger with white patches on her front feet and here.” Emma pointed to her forehead and then her torso. “Mama said Felicia wore a bib so when she ate, she wouldn’t get dirty.

  Charles smiled. “She sounds like a beauty.”

  Emma twisted her napkin. “We gave Felicia to a neighbor, ’cause we couldn’t take a cat to the orphanage. I miss her.”

  Adelaide’s throat tightened for Emma’s many losses.

  “I can see why.” Charles reached over and patted Emma’s hand, then drew a curve that quickly turned into the body of a cat, sitting on a stool. On the face, he added two triangular ears and an upside down triangle for a nose.

  Watching them, Adelaide marveled at how Charles related to children. Emma had taken a liking to him right away. Charles Graves was a kind man. Adelaide could think of no higher compliment.

  With Emma in the middle, they walked home in the dark, their way lit by gaslights along the street. The soft night air between her and Charles crackled, leaving Adelaide shaky but feeling alive.

  “Here we are,” Charles said, reaching the door of her shop.

  She dug into her bag and retrieved the key. All thumbs, she dropped it, and then bent to retrieve it, just as Charles reached to snatch up the key. The two of them almost collided and both let out a little shaky laugh. In the dim light, they stood facing each other, close enough to touch, to reach out….

  Adelaide’s stomach dropped like it had when she’d swung out on a rope over Phillip’s Creek. But she wasn’t a child now. Dangling from anyone’s rope posed a risk she would not take.

  He reached past her, his arm brushing hers, turned the key and opened the door.

  “The meal was delicious,” she said, though she didn’t remember eating a bite.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Well…thank you for a lovely evening.”

  “I should be thanking you,” he said softly, “both of you,” he added, his gaze taking in Emma, too.

  She and Emma stepped inside the shop. Adelaide chanced one last glance back at Charles. Having a man in her life didn’t mean she wouldn’t be lonely—Jack had proven that. He’d claimed he wanted to marry her but never exhibited an interest in anything about her, except her cooking and the profits from her shop. Besides, she couldn’t be involved with a man who had issues with his faith.

  “Would you accompany us to church tomorrow?”

  His gaze dropped to his feet. “Mary’s expecting me for dinner.”

  “Mary and the boys will be at church. I’m sure they’d love to have you join them.”

  He tightened his jaw. “Church and I aren’t a good mix.”

  Hope she hadn’t realized she held tumbled from its lofty perch. “Well, if you change your mind—”

  “I won’t. Good night, Addie.” He turned and walked away in the direction of his house.

  Charles had used his sister-in-law as an excuse. Why did he avoid church? Perhaps, God had placed her in his life so she could help him find his way back. If so, how?

  Chapter Nine

  The morning of Decoration Day, most of the shopkeepers in town had locked their doors. Nobleville’s citizens headed first to Riverside Cemetery and then on to Crownland Cemetery to listen to th
e speeches and honor the country’s fallen heroes. A cool breeze fluttered the flags.

  Charles waved at James across the way as he scribbled notes for the paper, and then slipped in beside Addie and Emma. Addie’s welcoming smile dazzled him. On this beautiful, celebratory Monday, he wanted to throw caution to the wind, to pretend he’d have tomorrow with Addie and every day after that. He tucked her gloved hand into the crook of his arm and watched the Union soldiers honor their dead.

  Emma tugged at his sleeve. “Who are they?”

  “Those men fought in the Civil War,” he said, bending down to speak into her ear. “See their uniforms? They…”

  But, Emma’s attention had latched on to a dog that joined the parade. Charles returned his gaze to Addie. In the misty depths of her eyes, he saw an understanding of the sacrifices these men had made for their country, along with the countless thousands on both sides who’d died during that hideous war.

  The more he knew Addie, the more he perceived the depth of their connection. As much as he knew Addie deserved a better man, she’d taken residence in his mind. And, could it be, even in his heart? No. He’d only bring her trouble. In the end, he’d draw the joy from her life.

  After the last speech, men in faded overalls, women wearing sun-bleached bonnets and children itching to shuck high-top shoes flowed across the street or stopped to chat with friends.

  As they strolled toward Addie’s shop, Charles pulled a lollipop from his coat pocket and handed it to Emma. She rewarded him with a huge smile.

  Addie whispered in Emma’s ear and the little girl pulled the treat out of her mouth. “Thank you, Mr. Graves,” Emma said, then popped the sucker back in.

  Charles smiled. “You’re welcome. Are you enjoying your day out of school?”

  “Yes!” The little girl twirled in front of them. “I don’t have to do math or read or anything.” Emma said between licks. “And Miss Adelaide’s shop is closed all day.”

  “Aren’t you the lucky ladies?”

  Emma’s eyes sparkled. “And guess what? Miss Adelaide is going to buy me a doll that gots a china head!”

  Addie smiled. “Mr. Hudson offered to open the store.”

  “With all the farmers in town, Mr. Nickels decided to keep the feed store open, too. Not sure our veterans would approve.”

  “Well, Emma’s glad.” Adelaide smiled down at her. “Every girl needs a special doll.”

  “And you want to make sure she has one.”

  Addie laid a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Yes.”

  Charles dropped them at the door of the shop “I best get back to the paper,” he said, sorry to see the morning end.

  Addie cocked her head at him. He assumed a few well-placed hatpins kept the wide-brimmed straw hat from swaying on her head. “I’m sorry you have to be inside on such a pretty day,” she said.

  Wish I could spend it with you. Instead he said, “Me, too.”

  He walked to his office and while Teddy set type, he tackled his editorial, glad to focus on work instead of the lady across the street. As he finished, the door opened.

  Charles greeted Roscoe Sullivan, the previous editor of The Ledger. Roscoe pulled at the suspenders that held up his pants. “Too bad you’re cooped up on such an afternoon, Mr. Editor.”

  Charles grinned and stretched his muscles, glad for the company. “I managed to take in the parade this morning.”

  Roscoe removed his straw hat, the band stained with sweat, and dropped into the chair across from him. “I’ve been keeping tabs on the paper.” He tapped a nearby issue. “I like how you’ve used the editorial page to instigate reform, like cleaning up our streets and getting support for building the new school.”

  “I appreciate that,” Charles said. “Say, how’s retirement?”

  “Not sure I like it much, though I hear the fishing is good up on White River.” Roscoe flipped a wrist, throwing out an imaginary line. “The main reason I came by is to say thanks for seeing that my nephew got those orphans.”

  “I didn’t do anything special. The decision was unanimous.”

  “Ed’s all the family I’ve got. When little Eddie died, it about killed Carrie and me.” Roscoe shook his head. “Then Frances’s mother commits suicide. Life’s given Frances one too many kicks in the stomach, but she’ll get back on her feet.”

  “I think you’re right.” He wished Mrs. Drummond well, but when she recovered, she’d want Emma. The thought cooled his mood faster than a winter dip in the Ohio River.

  Roscoe slapped his hat on his head. “Best get a move on.”

  The two men walked to the door. As if he’d conjured her up, Adelaide left her shop with Emma chattering alongside, probably on their way to buy Emma’s doll. They saw him in the open doorway and waved. Charles waved back.

  “Ed told me Emma’s staying with Miss Crum for now,” Roscoe said. “It appears she’s doing a right good job.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Heard tell you were spending time with the lady. Keeping an eye on Emma, huh?” Roscoe thumped him playfully in the arm. “Unless there’s another reason for your attention?”

  Charles opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. There wasn’t much he could say to stop the talk; protesting only increased the gossip.

  “She’s a fine woman,” Roscoe continued. “Always wondered why some swain hadn’t snapped her up. Maybe you’re the one.”

  Charles put up his hands. “Not me. I’m too set in my ways.”

  “A woman has a way of changing that.” Roscoe chuckled. “Marriage can bring a lot into your life—good cooking, companionship. Not a day goes by I don’t miss my Carrie.” Roscoe’s eyes misted and he made a production out of adjusting his hat, then shoved away from the door. “I’m off.”

  Charles cleared the sudden lump in his throat and returned to his desk and the pile of work awaiting him. By the look of things, he’d be here for hours. And at the end of the day, all that would greet him would be some poor excuse for a supper.

  For a moment, he tried to imagine what it would be like to have a wife to come home to, welcoming him with a smile, and a home-cooked meal on the table—a table surrounded by the freshly scrubbed faces of their children.

  His life had left him cynical about marriage. Apparently, a few—Teddy and Roscoe, if he could believe what they said—had enjoyed domesticity. But without a framework for such a life, Charles could barely imagine it.

  At the memory of his boyhood home, tension crept into his shoulders and up his neck muscles. No, having a wife and children gathered around a table didn’t ensure a happy home.

  Until he had an idea what did, he had no business picturing a future with Addie. She deserved a better man, a man who could give her happily ever after.

  Adelaide detected a tug on her hand, but deep in thought about Charles, she ignored it.

  “Look! It’s William.” Emma dropped Adelaide’s hand and ran toward her brother. “William!”

  Toting a sack of feed big enough to topple him, the boy’s face broke into a lopsided grin.

  Emma huddled close to her brother. “Is Mrs. Drummond better?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  William juggled the sack of feed and shrugged. “I dunno.”

  “Oh.” Emma tucked her hands behind her back. “I miss you.”

  With the toe of his boot, William rubbed a line in the dirt. “Me, too. Is living in town fun?”

  Emma’s head bobbed. “Miss Adelaide’s gonna buy me a doll. See my new hat!” Emma pivoted in front of her brother, sending the ribbons flying, almost losing the bonnet. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “Yep.” William’s gaze drifted from Emma’s hat to Adelaide and the longing in his eyes turned to envy.

  Adelaide smiled. “Hello, William.”

  He gave a slow smile. She wanted to scoop him up and take him home, but William wasn’t hers and neither was Emma, really.

  Ed Drummond, wearing a scowl, came stomping up behind the boy. Adel
aide’s heart leapt in her chest.

  William didn’t see him. “Thanks for taking care of—”

  A rough hand shoved William, almost causing him to drop the feed sack. “I told you to stow that in the wagon. Obey me, boy!”

  “Yes, sir.” Head down, William scampered for the wagon.

  Adelaide bit her tongue to keep from giving Ed the good lashing he deserved. She didn’t dare antagonize the man who held Emma’s fate in his hands.

  Ed climbed onto the seat, never turning around, leaving William to wrestle with the heavy sack alone. Adelaide hurried to the boy’s side and helped him heft the feed onto the back of the wagon. William scrambled up beside it and dragged the sack toward the front when Ed slapped the reins across the horses’ backs. The team jerked forward. Losing his balance, William tumbled to the rear of the open wagon.

  Emma shrieked.

  “Stop!” Adelaide shouted. William grabbed a wooden slat and managed to keep from falling out. As the horses gathered speed, he pulled himself to a sitting position, and held on.

  Adelaide released a shaky breath. Though William hadn’t been hurt, he could have been—and seriously. Ed had treated him more like a slave than a son and hadn’t acknowledged Emma.

  Emma returned to Adelaide’s side. “He was mean to William.”

  Adelaide laid a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”

  Emma’s soft blue eyes glistened with tears. “Why?”

  Adelaide watched the wagon disappear around the bend. “I don’t know.” But I intend to find out.

  “I’m glad he didn’t see me.” Emma peered up at Adelaide, her eyes luminous. “Do I have to go back there?”

  Adelaide bent down and put her arms around Emma. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” She held her until Emma noticed a robin on the walk.

  “Wait here a minute,” Adelaide said, then marched into the feed store and almost bumped into the proprietor standing in the shadows of the doorway. He had to have seen Ed’s treatment of the boy. “Excuse me, Mr. Nickels. The man who left here—”

  The feed store owner spat a load of tobacco toward a spittoon, hitting the target with ease. “Name’s Ed Drummond.”