A Home for Adam

by Gina Ferris Wilkins

  She sighed and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  He flashed her a cocky grin. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m always right.”

  She groaned and looked down at her baby. “Did you hear that, Melissa? Have you ever heard such arrogance?”

  Adam was startled. “Melissa?” he repeated.

  Jenny gave him that shy smile again—the one that made his chest tighten, for some reason. “Yes. Do you approve?”

  Adam had to swallow hard before he could speak. Even then, his voice was a bit husky. “Yeah. I approve.”

  Jenny’s cheeks were pink. “Good.” And then she looked back down at the baby. “She’ll probably want to eat soon, won’t she?”

  And now Adam had an all new reason to clear his throat as he thought of Jenny baring her breasts to feed her child. Man, what was wrong with him today? Had lack of sleep combined with stress to addle his brain?

  “I’ll—er—I’ll warm the broth,” he said abruptly, turning hastily toward the kitchen.

  * * *

  Adam made another trek out to Jenny’s car later that afternoon, just before dark. A few of her friends from Dallas had given her a baby shower before she’d struck out for Tennessee. There were boxes of disposable newborn diapers, tiny sleepers, baby blankets and even a pacifier packed into her trunk, she explained.

  Jenny let out a long breath when the door closed behind him. He’d been incredibly solicitous to her during the day, but it was nice to have a few minutes alone with her new daughter. Adam had helped her into the rocking chair near the fire, leaving her sitting on a soft pillow, a blanket wrapped snugly around her, the baby tucked into her arms.

  The first nursing session had been a bit awkward, but successful. Already, Melissa was ready to eat again. Jenny placed the baby carefully at her breast, tucking the blanket more securely around them.

  “You’re lucky I had planned to breast-feed all along,” she told her daughter with a smile. “I’m glad I read up on the procedure before I left Dallas or we’d both be in trouble. We finally found one subject Adam wasn’t an expert on.”

  In fact, Adam had been rather endearingly embarrassed about the whole subject. Jenny had found that secretly amusing, since he’d handled childbirth so easily.

  Just the thought of those long, difficult hours made her smile slip away. She couldn’t even bear to think about what she’d have done if it hadn’t been for Adam. How could she have known when she’d gotten lost and slammed into that tree that her baby’s birth was only hours away?

  Had she not seen Adam’s lights, or had Adam not been a doctor...well, she shuddered to consider the possibilities.

  But, she reminded herself firmly, she had seen the lights and Adam was a doctor—she didn’t doubt that now. And he’d taken care of her as tenderly, as skillfully, as thoughtfully as she could possibly have asked.

  She was still convinced that Adam Stone was an arrogant, sometimes overbearing man, much too convinced of his own infallibility for his own good. But she would never forget how kind he’d been to her and her daughter during this ordeal that had been sprung upon him.

  Adam was a good man, despite his flaws. She knew she’d never met anyone else quite like him.

  Melissa was fed and sleeping again when Adam returned, his arms full of packages. “I got everything I could carry,” he said, dumping the load near the couch. “How are you two doing?”

  “We’re fine. But we could really use one of those diapers,” Jenny said with a smile. “I think the tea towel you used is pretty well soaked. And my nightgown with it.”

  Adam grimaced. “Sorry. Here, I’ll take care of her while you change.”

  Jenny placed the baby carefully into his outstretched arms. Funny how confident she felt in doing so, she mused as she pushed herself painfully out of the chair.

  “You okay?” Adam asked, steadying her with his free hand.

  Jenny nodded. “Just stiff and sore,” she said. “But no more than can be expected.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m fine, Adam. Don’t fuss over me.” She smiled again to soften her chiding.

  He looked sheepish. “Sorry. It’s not every day that I take care of a new mother.”

  “This new mother can take care of herself, on the whole. But thank you.”

  He nodded and dropped his supportive hand. Jenny felt inexplicably bereft at its loss.

  “She is wet, isn’t she?” Adam fretted, carrying the baby to the couch. “Don’t you worry, Melissa, Uncle Adam’s going to take care of that in no time.”

  “Uncle Adam?” Jenny repeated, amused.

  He shrugged. “That’s what Rachel’s kids call me, even though I’m really a cousin.”

  Clutching the blanket around her shoulders with one hand, Jenny rummaged through the things Adam had just brought from her car until she found a tiny disposable diaper and a soft, warm sleeper.

  “Are you sure you can handle this without help?” she asked, holding the items out to Adam.

  He took them with a rather offended look. “I handled delivering her, didn’t I? I can certainly handle dressing her. Go put some dry clothes on.”

  “I wish I could take a bath.”

  “There’s hot water on the stove. Use it to wash up, if you want.”

  Settling for what she could get, Jenny nodded. “All right. I’ll dress in there.”

  Adam didn’t look up from the baby. “Call me if you need help.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I just had a baby, didn’t I? I can certainly handle dressing myself.”

  He chuckled at her deliberate twisting of his own words. “Just thought I’d offer,” he murmured, sliding a diaper under Melissa’s tiny bare bottom.

  She shouldn’t be embarrassed, Jenny thought as she hobbled slowly into the kitchen, a clean nightgown tucked under her arm. After all, Adam was as intimately acquainted with her body now as anyone had ever been. And there was certainly no reason to think he’d been flirting with her, even humorously.

  Under the circumstances, it was ridiculous to even consider the possibility.

  The stress of the day must be getting to her, she decided. She reached determinedly for a washcloth, putting Adam’s odd tone out of her mind.

  * * *

  Saturday evening passed quietly, pleasantly. Jenny and Adam spent most of the time watching the baby, taking turns holding her, admiring her.

  “She really is beautiful, isn’t she?” Jenny whispered, noting how the light from the fire made her baby’s skin look like pink alabaster.

  “She really is,” Adam agreed patiently for what had to be the hundredth time.

  Jenny flushed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to rave on so about her.”

  “Rave as much as you like. I think she’s gorgeous, too.”

  Jenny smiled. “You’re a very nice man, Adam Stone.”

  He widened his eyes comically and looked around as though in search of eavesdroppers. “Shh,” he said in an exaggerated whisper. “Someone will hear you. I have a reputation to protect, you know.”

  “Why do you work so hard at that grumpy reputation of yours?” Jenny asked curiously.

  Adam dropped the posturing. “What makes you think I do?”

  She shrugged. “Just a guess. I think you’re very careful to keep people at arm’s length—outside your family, anyway. I’m just not so sure why you feel the need to do so.”

  Adam made a rueful face. “Maybe I do, a little. I suppose I find it easier in the long run.”

  “Why easier?”

  “The closer people get to you, the more they seem to want from you,” he said nonchalantly. “I have my hands full enough just taking care of my practice and my family.”

  “Is that why you haven’t married?” Jenny asked in concern. “Because you think a wife would be too demanding of you?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I haven’t married because I haven’t found anyone I wanted to marry,” he said, correcting her. “But, yeah, I guess y
ou’re right in some ways. I work long hours, and hard ones. When I get home, it feels good to be alone for a while, to do what I want, when I want to do it. I don’t need anyone else making demands on my time or having unrealistic expectations for me to live up to.”

  Jenny considered what he’d said. And then she asked, “What’s your mother like?”

  He groaned. “Don’t tell me. Psych 101, right?”

  She shook her head. “I never went to college, remember? I’m just curious.”

  “Okay, Dr. Freudette—my mother is a difficult woman. Ever since my father died when I was eight, she’s been a helpless victim of cruel fate. Dad left us with more money than we needed, a firmly established place in society, a nice house and a secure future, but to listen to Mother, you’d think we were destitute and homeless. She seems to be incapable of making important decisions, a chronic hypochondriac and endlessly demanding of attention—mine, and everyone else who’ll cater to her for a few hours.”

  He stopped, cleared his throat, and threw up his hands. “But she’s my mother, you know? On the few occasions when I really needed her, she came through for me. It doesn’t bother me to look out for her now. Mostly it’s a matter of hiring someone occasionally to take care of whatever she wants.”

  “You needn’t explain yourself to me,” Jenny said gently, reacting to the slight defensiveness in his deep voice. “I think it’s nice that you take care of your widowed mother.”

  He exhaled slowly. “Sorry. People are always criticizing me for catering to her. My grandmother, much as I love her, is a stubbornly independent woman who has little time for Mother’s dramatics. Even my cousins and friends think I spend too much time taking care of Mother, though they consider me generally selfish and self-serving in every other respect. They don’t understand, of course, that it’s easier for me to take care of her than to deal with the consequences of not doing so.

  “So,” he added wryly, “I’m still being selfish. Just in my own way.”

  Selfish? No. Adam wasn’t a selfish man, Jenny mused, looking down at her baby as she rocked and thought about his words. Just the opposite, in fact. He’d spent so many years taking care of his mother, his extended family and his patients, that he seemed to have left no time for himself.

  He was arrogant, yes. But now she understood that arrogance a bit better. He’d been taking charge since he was eight years old. After thirty years, it was no wonder he considered himself the best candidate for doing so.

  Adam stood abruptly, as though the conversation had suddenly lost appeal for him. “I’m going to make us something for dinner. It’ll have to be canned soup again, I’m afraid, but at least it’s hot and filling.”

  “Canned soup is fine with me,” she said absently, still thinking about all those complex sides to Adam Stone.

  * * *

  Adam took the baby and laid her on the couch so Jenny could eat from the tray he’d brought her. It was practically the first time little Melissa had been put down since birth; she expressed her displeasure with a disgruntled wail.

  Jenny automatically reached for her daughter.

  Adam stopped her. “She’s okay,” he said, patting the squirming infant’s tiny back. “Eat your dinner.”

  “But—”

  As though to confirm Adam’s words, Melissa quieted. She took the pacifier Adam offered her, and a moment later was suckling it noisily as she settled down to sleep.

  Jenny noted resignedly that Adam looked smugly pleased with himself—as always.

  Jenny ate sparsely, and then was annoyed to find that her eyelids were drooping again. “It seems like all I’ve done since I’ve been here is sleep,” she grumbled.

  Adam laughed. “Well, that and have a baby.”

  Her chin propped on her hand, Jenny looked at him thoughtfully. “You have a nice laugh, Adam Stone. You should use it more often,” she murmured.

  To her astonishment, his cheeks darkened a bit beneath his several-days growth of beard. Had she really embarrassed him with the compliment? How interesting.

  “I’ll clean this up and then we’ll get you and the kid down for the night,” Adam said, busying himself with the cleanup. “Maybe tomorrow the roads will start thawing.”

  “Mmm.” Jenny looked away then, not wanting him to see her eyes. She wasn’t sure exactly what expression he would find in them—but she thought it might look suspiciously like regret.

  Oddly enough, she was growing more reluctant all the time to leave this cozy little cabin in the woods.

  * * *

  Adam made a makeshift crib out of a dresser drawer taken from the bedroom, and snugly lined it with blankets. He fussed over the drawer for quite a while, making sure the blankets were taut enough so that they wouldn’t get around the baby’s face. Finally judging it a safe temporary bed, he took Melissa from Jenny after she’d nursed, and laid the baby in the drawer.

  “She seems comfortable enough,” he said, watching attentively as Melissa settled down to sleep.

  He’d placed the drawer close to where Jenny lay on the couch, near enough to the fire to provide warmth for the night. Jenny smiled as she looked into the drawer-bed. “She looks perfectly content,” she assured Adam.

  “You’d better get some sleep,” he advised her. “She probably won’t sleep much tonight. I understand they wake fairly often to eat at this stage.”

  “You haven’t had much rest, yourself, during the past few days,” Jenny reminded him. “You were up most of last night delivering the baby, and you spent the night before that waking every hour or so to add wood to the fire.”

  “I’d have had to add wood to the fire even if I’d been here alone,” he reminded her. “As for delivering Melissa—I figure she’s well worth the loss of a few hours sleep.”

  Jenny smiled. “That’s a very nice thing to say.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I still have that reputation to protect, you know.”

  “Mmm. Someday the truth is going to get out about you, Adam Stone. Everyone’s going to find out what a decent guy you are under all that gruffness. And then what will you do?”

  “Run,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “Now go to sleep, Jenny. As soon as it’s daylight tomorrow, I’ll check the roads. Maybe it will warm up enough for us to get out of here.”

  Jenny sighed very faintly and closed her eyes. Adam stayed up awhile, his dark, brooding gaze moving from Jenny to the baby and back again.

  * * *

  Sunday morning dawned with the first real sunshine Adam had seen in several days. Standing outside on the porch of the little cabin, he looked up at the startlingly cloudless sky and realized that the temperature was slowly beginning to rise. It was probably still only in the twenties—not enough for a thaw today, at least—but by late Monday, certainly no later than Tuesday, the roads should be clear enough for him to attempt to drive out.

  And then what?

  The first priority, of course, would be to see to Melissa. Had Adam thought the infant was at any risk, he’d have already carried her in his arms to civilization, if necessary. He was confident that she was a healthy, thriving baby, but he wouldn’t be completely comfortable until that opinion had been confirmed by someone who specialized in that sort of thing.

  After seeing to the baby, Jenny would probably want to do something about her car. Having seen the vehicle twice now, Adam knew it needed extensive repairs. Expensive ones. The five thousand dollars he’d found in her purse—which, he suspected, was all the money she had—would hardly cover the damage. Even if she had excellent insurance—and he tended to doubt that, given her circumstances—it would be weeks before the car was either totaled and replaced, or repaired and roadworthy.

  Where would she and the baby stay in the meantime? Who would take care of them?

  Or would Jenny simply find another way to get to Tennessee and the tentative, part-time jobs her friend had offered? Would she foolishly try to go by plane or bus with her baby? Try to make five thou
sand dollars cover the cost of setting up in a cheap apartment, child care, food, miscellaneous expenses? Within a couple of months, she’d be flat broke.

  He realized that his fists had clenched at his side, and that his jaw had hardened with what felt like anger.

  And he knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t be putting Jenny Newcomb on a bus or a plane—or even in her own car—without a fight.

  He scowled, then widened his eyes as the solution occurred to him. Of course! Jenny needed a job, and a place for her and her baby to live. Someone to keep an eye on them until they were able to fend for themselves.

  He just happened to be that someone.

  Why else, he figured confidently, would Fate have sent her to him? Obviously he was meant to help her. And help her he would, whether she cooperated initially or not. Adam didn’t doubt his ability to outlast her when it came to stubborn persistence.

  He turned on one heel and went back into the cabin.

  Jenny looked up from the rocking chair where she’d been admiring her child again and gave him an absent, baby-besotted smile. “Your nose is red,” she commented.

  “It’s cold out there,” he replied, pointing this out unnecessarily.

  “Mmm.” She’d already looked back down at Melissa, who was staring back up at her with a fierce baby frown of concentration.

  Adam moved to sit at the end of the couch nearest the rocking chair. He leaned forward, his forearms on his braced knees. “Jenny, we have to talk.”

  Cooing at the baby, Jenny seemed not to have heard him for a moment. And then she looked up, still smiling. “What is it, Adam?”

  Her eyes were the most unusual color, Adam thought, distracted for a moment. Especially in the glow of the fire, they were the softest amber, framed by incredibly thick, dark lashes that owed nothing to cosmetics. Her short dark curls were tousled from sleep around her firelight-flushed, unpainted face. Her mouth was full, luscious, those elusive dimples at the corners evident with her soft smile.

  She was beautiful. And he couldn’t remember for a moment what he’d wanted to talk to her about.