“Ah, the Cartland sisters are here already,” Pinter said. “Ladies, have you met the new doctor?”
The women smiled and murmured their greetings. They were both in their thirties, Adam judged, and dressed rather elegantly, or at least more elegantly than Miss Sparks had been. He would have guessed they were sisters, for they had the same large nose.
Pinter took a few steps toward the window, putting him closer to one of the women. “This is Naomi,” he said, “and yonder is Nedra.”
Nedra’s hair was an odd shade of yellow, while her sister’s was…orange. Maybe unusual hair color ran in the family along with the nose.
“Come sit here, Doctor,” said Nedra, indicating the space next to her on the velvet settee.
Adam tried to smile graciously as he crossed the room to join her.
“The ladies are planning to open a dress shop,” Pinter said. “That will be such a welcome addition to the community, don’t you think?”
The question rang with a certain amount of desperation. Catching Pinter’s need for help with the conversation, Adam spoke up. “Where are you ladies from?”
“St. Louis,” Nedra, the yellow-haired one, said. “Our father left us a small inheritance, and we decided we could make more of it out here than in the city.”
“Our skills are needed here,” declared Naomi, as if she saw their move in a very different light. “ And I don’t just mean our sewing skills. These people are in desperate need of civilizing influences.”
“The good doctor will help us with that,” Nedra said, turning a radiant smile on Adam. “I understand you’re from back east.” She made it sound like a foreign country.
Before Adam could reply another guest entered the parlor. Pinter was quick to make the introduction. “Tim Martin, meet our new doctor, Adam Hart. Tim’s a salesman. He makes the boardinghouse his base whenever he’s in the area.”
Adam rose to shake the man’s hand. He was middle-aged, his thin hair slightly graying.
“Good to meet you,” Martin said. “I was out on a call this afternoon or I would have turned out with the rest to welcome you. Did the band play?”
Adam couldn’t resist a smile at the memory of the band. “Yes, it was quite a welcome.”
“Fine.” He gave Adam a hearty slap on the back. “I love that band. Brings tears to my eyes every time I hear ‘em.” The lilt in his voice made Adam wonder if he meant tears of laughter.
“It could use some civilizing, if you ask me,” Nedra said, tucking a strand of yellow hair in place. “I think they sound awful.”
“It’s their passion,” Martin said, taking a seat and motioning for Adam to return to his. “I heard an interesting story today,” he continued.
With the conversation in Martin’s capable grasp, Adam found himself listening for sounds in the rest of the house, from the direction of the kitchen in particular. He was unaccountably eager for Miss Sparks to make her entrance, and not just because he was hungry.
Jane carried the last platter to the table. She had heard some of her boarders come down and knew they were gathering in the parlor. There would be seven at the table tonight. She had moved the extra chair to a corner to give the guests on one side of the table a little more room. George, she knew, would notice and take a seat there. Tim would probably take the other. She wondered which seat the doctor would take and why she pictured him at the head, directly across from her.
A quick inventory told her everything was in order but didn’t banish the nervousness that had bothered her all afternoon. It was worry for Grams, she told herself for the twelfth time, not the prospect of eating dinner at the same table as the handsome young doctor.
The doctor unsettled her. The fact that his eyes and voice seemed kind and gentle didn’t mean he was. She tried not to think about what he had. suggested because it made her feel light-headed, but when she did think about it, she knew for certain that she had made the right choice. And Dr. Hart wasn’t kind.and gentle or he wouldn’t have suggested such a thing.
But dinner was business. If George hadn’t reserved a place for the doctor tonight, there’d be two empty chairs. Every meal meant that much more money toward the next house payment. Five more and the house would be hers. It would finally be a home.
Grams won’t be here to see it.
The realization made tears threaten. She forced them aside and headed for the parlor. Five people sat visiting in the warm little room, but Dr. Adam Hart was the first one she saw. He had been watching the door instead of participating in the conversation. Their eyes locked and the intensity of his blue gaze captured hers. Darn, he was every bit as handsome as she remembered. One lock of sandybrown hair fell across his forehead. She thought again that he seemed too young to be a doctor, though he was probably a year or two older than she was.
Tim Martin came to his feet, breaking the spell. “Ah, the lovely lady of the house has joined us.”
In spite of her worries, Jane had to smile. She was far from lovely, especially now when she had had so little sleep. But Tim was a salesman. Complete honesty wasn’t part of his nature. “May I escort you to dinner?” he asked, offering her his arm.
With a glance to make sure the rest of the guests were preparing to follow, she took his arm and walked with him to the dining room. He held her chair and she slipped into it. When the Cartland sisters were seated the men took their places.
“Mr. Bickford is late again,” observed Nedra, giving Naomi a meaningful look. Naomi was silent.
The guests hadn’t taken the chairs Jane had expected. Naomi, of course, had maneuvered her sister away from the center chair on the east side, ensuring the tardy Mr. Bickford would have to be seated next to her. But George had gone to the head of the table, and Tim had taken the chair beside him, leaving the doctor to sit at Jane’s right.
George made the introductions.
“We’ve met,” they said almost in unison. Now why should that completely fluster her? Her cheeks grew warm. Perhaps because she and the doctor had the attention of everyone around the table.
“I looked in on her grandmother this afternoon,” the doctor explained.
“How is the old girl?” George asked, reaching for the bowl of potatoes that sat nearby and scooping up a mound for his plate. The others started dishes around as well, and Jane tried to force herself to relax.
“Not good,” Dr. Hart answered.
Jane mentally crossed her fingers, hoping he would not describe what he had wanted to do. Fortunately, George didn’t give him a chance to go into detail. “Too bad,” he said, shaking, his head. “We’re all fond of Grams. Naomi, grab that butter dish there beside you and pass it on around.”
The guests fell silent except for the clink of silver on china and a few murmured requests or thanks. Jane would have been content for the meal to continue just that way.
“Miss Sparks,” the young doctor began, “I was wondering if I could arrange to take all my meals here.”
Why did that seem like a dangerous request? “ I can’t promise I’ll always have a place for you,” she heard herself say.
“Tomorrow morning?”
Jane pretended to think it over. Of course she had a place—two in fact. “Yes, you can come tomorrow morning. Beyond that, we’ll have to wait and see.”
He nodded. The table was quiet again for several minutes as her guests continued eating.
Tim was the next