He could hardly remember his name.
And then Melissa made a little mewling sound and Adam jerked himself back to reality, silently chiding himself for being an idiot just because Jenny Newcomb had smiled at him.
“We need to talk about what we’re going to do when we leave here,” he said, more brusquely than he’d intended.
Her smile faded. “Have the roads thawed so soon?”
“No, not yet.”
Had that been a quick flash of relief in her eyes, or was he only projecting his own complicated feelings onto her? He cleared his throat. “But it won’t be long before we’ll be able to leave here. I figured the first thing we’ll do is have the baby checked out. After that...”
Jenny was frowning now. “I’ll have to do something about my car,” she murmured when Adam paused. “And I’ll need to decide how I’m going to get to Tennessee and where I’m going to stay when I get there. Maybe I’ll call my friend and have her find me an apartment, if she can.”
Adam shook his head, pushing down another quick surge of temper. He couldn’t believe this! She really was planning to pack up her baby and her meager possessions and strike out alone. Of all the stubborn, foolish, recklessly independent...
“I have a counterproposal for you,” he said, forcing himself to speak lightly, calmly.
Jenny immediately looked suspicious. “A counterproposal?”
He nodded. “But first, one question. Are you sure you don’t want to take Melissa and go back to your family in Texas? Surely if they knew about her, if they saw her, they’d want to help you.”
A cold mask seemed to settle over Jenny’s face. “I’m not going back to Texas,” she said flatly. “And I still don’t want to talk about my family.”
He sighed in exasperation, but decided to table that subject for later. “All right. Then here’s the situation. I own a fairly large, five-bedroom house in Little Rock. It’s a lot bigger than I need just for myself, but I bought it as an investment.”
Jenny was already shaking her head. “I’m not moving in with you,” she said. “I’m not a charity case, Adam. I don’t need you to—”
“Would you let me finish?” he snapped, tension making him cross. He massaged the back of his neck with one hand, feeling the knotted muscles there.
“As I was saying,” he went on when she fell silent. “It’s a big house. I’m not there much, and when I am, I’m in no mood to cook or do housework. I’ve had a full-time housekeeper for the past couple of years, but she retired a few months ago.”
That part was true. Mrs. Handy had recently retired.
“Anyway,” he said, before Jenny could speak, “I’ve been looking for someone to replace her and I’ve had no luck at all.”
That was not true. Adam had decided after Mrs. Handy left to make do with take-out food and a once-a-week professional cleaning. He saw no need to tell Jenny that he’d changed his mind about that only a few minutes earlier. “What I’m trying to say is that I want you to consider coming to work for me, Jenny. As my housekeeper.”
She looked startled. “Your housekeeper?”
He nodded. “I realize it isn’t a glamorous job, but you have to admit it beats temporary clerical work. I’ll pay you well, I’ll provide room, board and health insurance for you and the baby. You’ll be free to attend classes in the evening, if you like, to prepare yourself for a better career. Most importantly, you’ll be with Melissa. You won’t have to leave her with strangers while you try to work to support her.”
Jenny winced. “That’s not a fair tactic,” she murmured.
He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Do you really want her to be just another little numbered body in an impersonal day-care center? Can you really go off every morning leaving her crying for her mother while you struggle to make enough to pay for food and diapers?”
He was being shameless, and he knew it. But he also knew that he wasn’t saying anything he didn’t truly mean.
Jenny had gone pale. “Of course I don’t want that—for me or Melissa. But—”
“Then what’s the problem? I need a housekeeper, and you need a job. It sounds to me like an ideal solution.”
Jenny moistened her lips. “Are you sure you need a housekeeper?” she asked, still suspicious. “You aren’t just making this up as a way of getting me to accept help from you?”
“I need a housekeeper,” he repeated flatly. “You’ll believe me when you see the shape my house has gotten into since Mrs. Handy left. And I’m tired of eating take-out or restaurant food. You can cook, can’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you’ve had experience with property management, so I assume the household chores are familiar to you.”
“Well, sure, but—”
“My bedroom is downstairs. The other four are upstairs, and I hardly ever go up there, so you and Melissa will have plenty of privacy. As I’ve explained, I work long hours. I’m gone much more than I’m home, so you won’t have to worry about us getting in each other’s way.
“Your primary responsibilities will be meals, shopping, cleaning and laundry. My secretary takes care of paying bills and scheduling appointments for me, but there may be the occasional errand I’ll want you to run once Melissa’s old enough to be more mobile. I won’t expect you to sign a contract or anything like that, but I would like you to commit to at least six months and give me a couple of weeks’ notice if you decide to leave.”
He was keeping this as impersonal and professional as possible, figuring that would make it easier for her to accept. He thought six months sounded like a reasonable amount of time. Surely, by then, Jenny would be in a better position to know what she wanted. And he’d know by then that she and the baby wouldn’t be going off helpless and alone.
A lot could happen in six months.
“You’re really serious, aren’t you? You really are offering me a job.”
He made a sound of exasperation. “Yes, Jenny, I’m serious. Why would I be going to all this trouble to convince you if I wasn’t?”
She bit her lip. “Will you let me think about it?”
He wanted an answer now. He wanted to put his mind at rest once and for all that she wouldn’t be striking out alone for Tennessee, beyond his guidance. But he forced himself to nod and say, “Yeah, think about it. It’ll be a day or two before we can leave here, anyway.”
“I’ll consider it, then.” She avoided his eyes by looking back down at the baby.
“Fine.” Adam stood. “I’d better bring in some more wood. We’re running low in here.”
Looking lost in her thoughts, Jenny nodded silently.
Satisfied that he’d made a good start on convincing her, Adam decided to quit while he was ahead.
Chapter Seven
“Oh, God. I look terrible. I’m saggy and sallow and...and I’m still fat.” Jenny sounded disconsolate as she stared into the bathroom mirror Sunday afternoon. She plucked at her hair. “Look at this. It’s limp, dead. I look awful.”
Adam had been passing the open bathroom door on his way back from the bedroom, where he’d changed into clean clothes after bringing in a load of wood. He paused in response to Jenny’s dispirited complaints, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.
This didn’t sound like the Jenny he’d come to know during the past few days, he mused. Not once during their ordeal had she complained or fretted about her appearance. And she hadn’t sounded this unhappy even when she’d told him about her recent personal problems.
“You look fine, Jenny,” he assured her tentatively, eyeing her pale, but still pretty face. “Not at your best, probably, but you have just had a baby. You have to expect that it’ll take a little time for you to recover completely.”
She sighed and turned away from the mirror. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Melissa’s sleeping?”
Jenny nodded. “She’s in her bed,” she said, referring to the makeshift crib. “She’s been sleeping a long time.”
“She needs a lots of sleep at this stage. It wouldn’t hurt you to get some rest, either.”
“I’m tired of sleeping. And I’m tired of reading, and sitting on the couch in front of the fire. I need something to do. I should be making plans, or making phone calls, or...or something. But I can’t do anything stuck here with no phone and no electricity and no way to get anywhere.”
She looked close to tears. Adam nervously cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his feet. Crying women had always made him nervous.
His mother was a master at it.
Maybe Jenny was bored, he thought, clutching at excuses. He understood boredom. After too many years of staying much too busy, he was getting a bit tired of all this enforced leisure time himself.
“Maybe you’d like to make us some dinner,” he suggested, grabbing at the first chore that occurred to him. “There isn’t much to choose from, but there are plenty of canned goods in the pantry and—”
“You want me to cook?” Jenny broke in incredulously. “I’ve just had a baby! I need rest, for heaven’s sake.”
He promptly felt like a heel for even making the suggestion. “Uh—sorry—I—er—”
Mercifully he was interrupted by a thin wail from the other room. Melissa was awake and requesting her mother’s presence.
Jenny responded immediately after giving Adam one last reproachful look over her shoulder.
When she was gone, Adam slumped against the wall behind him. Women, he thought with a bewildered shake of his head. Who could understand them?
He busied himself for a while to allow Jenny time to recover her equilibrium. When he finally judged it safe, he tiptoed into the living room.
Jenny was sitting in the rocking chair, humming softly, smiling beatifically down at the baby. Adam exhaled in relief. “How’s she doing?”
“Fine,” Jenny replied absently. “She’s just eaten, and now she’s getting sleepy again. She makes the sweetest little faces, doesn’t she?”
Adam privately thought some of those baby faces were a bit weird. He’d been quite startled earlier when Melissa had crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him.
“Yeah,” he had the sense to say, instead. “She’s one cute kid.”
A little weird, maybe, but definitely cute.
Jenny sighed contentedly, pushed the rocker with one foot and started humming again. Adam didn’t recognize the tune, but it was pleasant and soothing. Probably a lullaby.
Reassured that everything was back to normal, he picked up his book, settled onto the couch, and turned to the page he’d last read. A moment later, he was lost in the story, only marginally aware of Jenny’s soft singing, the quiet creaking of the rocker, the occasional mews from the baby and the cheery popping of the fire.
Perhaps half an hour had passed when he suddenly realized that something was wrong again.
He glanced up from his book. Jenny was still in the rocker, still holding the sleeping baby, but she no longer seemed content. She looked miserable. A steady stream of tears dripped silently down her cheeks. Her lower lip quivered pitifully.
Adam closed his book. “What is it?” he demanded. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
Jenny shook her head. “No, I’m not in pain. Nothing major, anyway,” she added, squirming against the rocker’s thin seat cushion.
“Then why are you crying?”
She mopped her face with one hand. “I’m not c-crying.” She sniffled.
He sighed, clinging to his patience with his fingernails. Adam Stone was not a patient man.
“Jenny,” he said firmly. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I was just feeling sorry for my poor baby,” she admitted in a barely audible murmur. “She’s so tiny and helpless. And she has such a...such a lousy excuse for a mother,” she added in a near wail.
“How can you say that?”
“How could I not?” she snapped back. “I got pregnant by a self-centered jerk who has no interest at all in his child. I lost my job, sold everything I had and struck out in the dead of winter—alone—with no secure future ahead of me. And then I wrecked my car and ended up having her here, with no hospital available if she needed one. I’ve messed everything up from the very beginning. How can I possibly think I can raise this precious little girl alone?”
Somewhere in the middle of her woebegotten monologue, Adam finally realized exactly what was going on here. Hormone hell. Postpartum blues, combined with a healthy dose of fear and exhaustion. He should have realized it before—should even have anticipated this development.
“Jenny.” He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, speaking in a deep, confident tone. “Calm down. You’re just upset because your hormones are a little crazy right now. It’s quite common after childbirth. It’s called postpartum de—”
“I know about postpartum depression,” Jenny said defensively. “And this isn’t it. I’m not crazy, Adam. I’m just being realistic. I have made a lot of mistakes. Don’t you dare lie to me and say you don’t agree with me!”
He shook his head, fighting a smile that would only make her angrier. “You aren’t crazy. And, yes, you’ve made some mistakes. But haven’t we all?”
“But I—”
He held up a hand to silence her. “You fell for a man who didn’t deserve you. That isn’t a crime, Jenny, it’s just bad luck. As for losing your job, that was through no fault of your own. From what you told me, the jerk sabotaged you. I’m not sure what happened between you and your parents, but I’m sure it’s something that can be worked out, given time and a little effort on both sides.”
He noted the immediate, stubborn expression that crossed her face. Jenny didn’t like talking about her parents.
He really was going to have to find out soon exactly what had happened there. He couldn’t fix it if he didn’t know what was wrong.
He dropped the subject of her family and moved on to her next complaint. “As for leaving Texas and striking out alone, maybe it wasn’t the safest course to choose, but you obviously had your reasons. You knew there was work for you in Tennessee and a friend to give you moral support. You were doing what you thought best for you and your baby.
“I’m sure you were driving very carefully. The best of drivers have lost control on icy roads. You had the good sense to be wearing your seat belt and to keep your head during the crisis. You made your way to this cabin, where there was food and warmth and shelter waiting for you.”
He smiled then, lightening his tone. “It was a stroke of good luck that I happened to be staying here,” he couldn’t resist pointing out. “Not only am I a doctor—which you have to admit came in handy yesterday—but I’m a generally decent guy who would never hurt you or take advantage of you. I have a full-time job available for you, with room and board and benefits and a safe environment for your baby. All in all, I’d say your bad luck ended when you arrived at my doorstep.”
Jenny bit her lip and avoided his eyes. And then, finally, she glanced at him with a rueful smile. “You really are an arrogant man, aren’t you, Adam Stone?”
“Yeah,” he admitted candidly. “But I’m not such a bad sort.”
She let out a long breath. “No,” she said. “You’re not a bad sort at all.”
She was quiet for another few moments. Adam gave her time. He was deeply relieved when she finally smiled at him, looking more like the Jenny he’d come to know.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have been acting crazy. I guess you’re right about that hormone thing.”
Adam flashed her a deliberately cocky grin. “Jenny,” he chided gently. “How many times do I have to remind you that I’m always right?”
She shook her head, but her smile deepened. “Definitely arrogant,” she muttered. But she was smiling.
Adam felt his throat tighten. This woman had gotten to him somehow, he thought with a trace of apprehension.
He wasn’t at all sure what he was going to do about it.
* * *
>
Adam persuaded Jenny to take a much-needed nap after their talk. He took the baby and laid her in the drawer-crib while Jenny stretched out on the couch.
Jenny was asleep within minutes.
Thirsty, Adam made a pot of coffee. He gazed out the window over the battered aluminum sink while he waited for the old-fashioned coffeepot to perk. The temperature must be rising, he noted in satisfaction. There was a steady cascade of water from the roof as icicles slowly melted. It wouldn’t be long before the roads were navigable.
He poured himself a cup of the strong, fragrant brew and carried it into the living room. Jenny was out soundly. Melissa was asleep, but restless. He patted her little tummy and she settled down, but he had a feeling it was only a temporary respite.
He took a seat in the rocker and kept an eye on both ladies as he sipped his coffee. He wished Jenny had given him a definite answer about the housekeeping job. He would feel much better knowing everything was settled to his satisfaction.
For the first time, he really thought about what he’d done by offering her the position. He, a man who valued privacy, who hoarded his solitary moments the way some men hoarded gold, had invited a strange woman and her newborn infant into his home. A woman who came with loads of emotional baggage, an uncertain future and a severely damaged self-image.
Not to mention the baby, and the inevitable nights of crying, and the clutter that always seemed to accompany infants. Baby bottles in his European enameled sink, rattles and blocks on his plush, champagne-colored carpeting, tiny handprints on his off-white walls, the smell of soiled diapers or regurgitated milk overpowering the delicate scents of expensive air fresheners.
Had he lost his mind?
Melissa stirred again, her tiny fists flailing as she made soft, disgruntled sounds that weren’t quite crying, but threatened to be. Glancing quickly at Jenny, who was still sleeping, Adam set down his coffee mug and lifted the baby into his arms.
Cradling her close, he murmured soothing inanities and settled back into the rocker, which he set into a slow, lulling motion.
A Home for Adam Page 9