He stopped in front of her. Their eyes met and he lowered his head. Suddenly he straightened up again. Red-faced, he cleared his throat and left with a muttered, “Good night.”
Chapter 5
The howling wind began late in the night. Or was it early in the morning? It moaned and whipped around the little house jerking Del from an already restless sleep. Peaches had been fed only moments before. At least it felt that way. Had he snatched more than a few minutes of sleep?
Wind this strong in another season would be a hurricane. This was something else. Blizzard winds.
He looked out the dormer window of the small bedroom. White swirled next to it, guaranteeing them a white Christmas.
Pulling on his pants and shirt, Del made his way to the cellar. Stoking the furnace, he watched with satisfaction as the coal glowed. Josie and Peaches would be warm regardless of the weather outside.
Lighting a lamp in the kitchen, he looked at the clock on the wall. Five o’clock already. He must have gotten a few hours of sleep even though it didn’t feel like it. Funny that Mrs. Williams had set the clocks and wound them. She’d even stocked coffee and other staples in the larder.
Opening the icebox—the amazingly cold icebox—he reached for the jar of cream he’d seen in there the night before when he placed Peaches’ bottles inside. Amazing that Mrs. Williams had arranged for an ice delivery. She’d certainly been confident he would return to his home for Christmas.
Footsteps on the stairs told him Josie was awake. He retrieved a cold bottle and began heating water on the stove. Probably Peaches had her up early for a feeding.
She entered the room wrapped in an air of cheeriness. He hadn’t had his first cup of coffee and struggled to respond pleasantly to her happy, “Good morning!” Mornings were never his favorite time. Today even less since he’d slept so little.
The shine from Josie’s smiling face made it all tolerable. For a moment he stared. Her hair was a black tumble that floated around her shoulders and back. He’d never seen it down. The sight was spectacular, reminding him of that poem by Lord Byron.
Pulling himself out of his momentary trance, he rumbled a greeting back to her and moved to look down at the snuffling baby. Peaches rooted in the blanket against Josie’s breast.
Don’t think about that part of her!
“Expect she’s hungry. Have you changed her?”
Smiling down at the baby, Josie nodded. “All done. I sure hated getting out of that warm bed. Mothers who can stay in bed and feed their babies certainly have an advantage.” Del watched Josie’s relaxed expression change as she realized what she’d referred to. Color rushed through her lovely face.
He couldn’t stop the chuckle. “Sorry to laugh. No need to be embarrassed with me. With that blizzard outside, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you and me, marooned.”
When he said those words, Del studied her face for any fear or distress. Nothing like that showed. Instead, she sighed and smiled before adding, “Don’t forget Peaches. She’s marooned with us.”
Rubbing a hand over the baby’s head, he nodded. “Don’t suppose I’ll ever call her anything different, even when we fix on a real name for her.”
Amazement showed in Josie’s sherry-colored eyes. “You think we’ll keep her. I expected we’d have to give her up once the weather cleared.”
“She’s been left like a Christmas gift, a special delivery from Santa Claus.” Even though he chuckled, his voice changed. Became more serious. “I think we’re meant to keep her. After all, she was abandoned. I’m sure a judge would give us custody.” He worked to keep any doubt out of his voice. Neither one was married, and it would be a problem. Unless Josie agreed to change that.
As if she read his mind, she voiced his thoughts. “Don’t the courts allow only married couples to adopt?”
Del forced himself to use a casual tone. “We could fix that easily enough.”
When she didn’t respond, he moved to the stove. Picking up the warming bottle, he checked it against his wrist. The chill was gone and the hint of warmth made it ready enough for the fussy baby.
Handing it to the obviously confused woman, he pushed her gently into a kitchen chair and sat down to enjoy his first cup of coffee.
“Josie.” At her name, she looked up from the baby. “Why didn’t you ever marry?”
Josie looked past his shoulder, staring into the past. “His name was Edward Martin. He was handsome, wealthy, and socially prominent. I couldn’t believe he was interested in me.”
Peaches choked, greedily gulping the milk. Josie broke off her story to care for the baby. Once the infant had started nursing again, Josie stayed quiet. Her mouth was tight and her face held an unhappy look.
“He insisted on an adventure before we married. ‘Just a year or so and I’ll return from whipping the Hun,’ he told me. He returned as he promised. Sort of.”
Having served overseas, Del could imagine the shape of her fiancé when he returned. Gassed, shell shocked, missing a limb. Possibilities raced through his mind.
Her words surprised him. “He returned a hero, but in a coffin. One more casualty of Ypres.” She met his eyes when she said, “That is why I never married. The opportunity to teach deportment and the fine arts at the academy in town promised a new life. So, here I am.”
“I, for one, am glad you’re here. Do you ever go back to see your parents?” No wonder she had a sad, haunted look at times. It was why he’d hesitated to approach her these last few months. As he recovered from his grief and noticed the lovely woman, he thought she wouldn’t be open to his overtures. So he hadn’t tried.
She shook her head. “They died soon after. Of the same thing as your wife and son. Father had borrowed heavily to expand his business. The bank seized everything to cover the loan. I’m just thankful for my job.”
That explained her fine manners and shabby clothing. A lady who had come down in the world. Thank goodness, she’d come down to his level. He knew he needed her desperately. And Peaches. It felt right to have both of them here, in this house, with him.
The maudlin mood needed to change. He expected she didn’t know how to cook but asked her anyhow. “Can you cook? Maybe make breakfast?”
Her expression lightened as he’d hoped. “I certainly can.” She jumped up, depositing a wide-eyed baby into his arms. “Mother made sure that I knew how to cook for my husband on the servants’ day off. One of the best things she taught me, I think.”
Del crooned softly to Peaches while keeping his eyes on Josie’s movements. Gracefully, she floated from table to counter to the stove as she beat eggs and cut bread from a loaf left on the counter. The aromas of eggs and toast made the kitchen homey. The scents and warmth had him forgetting the snow blowing against the windows.
One strong gust of wind drew her gaze out the window hung over the sink. “Your house is very snug. I’m thankful to be here with—” She broke off, blushing again. Lord Almighty but the woman reddened easily.
With a lump in his throat, he voiced the burning in his heart. “I’m thankful to be here with you. And Peaches. Christmas seems much brighter for me now.”
Her back was turned to him as she scrambled the eggs. Nevertheless, he heard her sigh, “Me, too.”
Had he meant it? He was thankful for her? What did that mean?
Earlier, he’d said it was easy to fix their single status. Had he proposed? It didn’t seem like a proposal so she hadn’t responded. She’d wait to see if he would ask her to marry him.
Disappointment gripped her when he changed the subject to her past. She was more interested in the future. Perhaps their future, together.
Carrying the skillet to the counter across the room, Josephine transferred scrambled eggs into a glazed earthenware mixing bowl. The blue glaze caught her eye when she’d searched the cupboards. Such a lovely color.
Placing it and the plate of toast on the table, she hurriedly grabbed for plates and silverware. She amaze
d herself by just how comfortable she felt in another woman’s kitchen. Could it be she felt right here because she was playing house? Maybe Del created the feeling in her. No matter the reason, she loved this little kitchen.
A jar of marmalade sat by the loaf and she moved it to the table. “That’s it, I think.” Before sitting, she poured coffee into her cup and refilled his. Smiling, she sat and asked, “Will you say grace?”
He looked, well, stunned. That was the best word, she supposed. “Don’t you pray before you eat?”
Shaking his head, he opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. “I used to. I haven’t since they died.”
He didn’t need to explain who ‘they’ were. “Tragedy can make us question. Christmas seems like a good time to come back to God and to the things you were taught about Him.”
Bowing his head, Del started speaking with a strained voice. “Father in heaven, thank you for the food before us.” His voice loosened and warmed as he continued. “Thank you for the woman who made this food and the gift of Peaches. Please, help us through this blizzard. In your son’s name, amen.”
She spread marmalade on her toast and looked across the table at him. “How did that feel?” she asked, referring to the prayer.
Smiling broadly, he growled one word in his low voice. “Hopeful.”
It was good enough for her. She dished eggs onto her plate before she noticed he didn’t take any food. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Lifting the bundle in his arms, he chuckled. “I’m kind of busy holding Miss Peaches. She hasn’t drifted off again so I don’t know if I can just put her down. You go ahead, though.”
She grabbed his plate and hurriedly fixed it before putting it into the stove’s warming drawer. “Nothing worse than cold food. Especially for such a gallant man.”
“Gallant, you say. If holding a baby impresses you, I suppose I’ll really rise in your estimation when I change her diaper.” He raised an eyebrow, his face serious except for the twitch of his lips.
She composed her face and sat demurely, her hands folded in her lap. After all, she could play along with his game. “You did that last night after rescuing us from the cold.”
“Hmmm. Better finish eating. I want to pull something down from the attic for Peaches and you’ll need to hold her while I do.” A small fist waved in the air, punctuating what he said. Or maybe agreeing with it.
Finishing her last bite of toast, she rose to put her plate and cup into the sink. Eagerly, she reclaimed her snuggly baby. With a soft lilt to her voice, she almost sang her question. “Why aren’t you asleep, little one? I thought new babies slept all the time.”
Eyes that struggled to focus slowly cleared and met hers. Two sets of eyes connected as they bonded to become mother and daughter. She had to keep this baby. If he asked her, she would say yes. Marrying Del would be no sacrifice, and it would allow her to be this baby’s mother.
While she’d focused on Peaches, Del had moved to the stove. With a doubled dish towel, he removed the hot plate. Pausing, he held it at nose level and inhaled. “Ah, smells like home.”
Sunshine burst inside her. He was thinking about home and family thoughts. Good! Maybe he’d get around to the topic of the three of them becoming a family.
Afraid she might prematurely push that topic, she grasped for something to say. “Do you think you should bring her cradle—I mean the cradle down for Peaches?”
“You can call it her cradle. She’ll sleep in it until she outgrows it. Hers until the next baby comes along.” He waggled his eyebrows at her as he said that last bit. A satisfied smile bloomed on his face when she blushed furiously.
The beast! He knows I’ll blush and likes it! Well, two can play that game.
“Are you planning to find more babies on the doorstep, Mr. Peale?” Her surroundings were so cozy that she had to work to make her voice frosty. She knew her eyes must be twinkling with humor. He’d know she was teasing.
“No, my darling Miss Withers. I plan to grow the next one the old-fashioned way.” Here, he stopped and—oh my—blew her a kiss!
Red that had just receded rushed back into her cheeks. Did he mean that they would--? She couldn’t finish the thought. Not even in the privacy of her mind. Oh!
The man had plans!
Chapter 6
“Go to the rocker. The dishes can wait. One of us will do them later.” He wanted to fetch the buggy. Hoped it would almost be like a Christmas gift.
She glanced doubtfully between the sink and the doorway of the front room, viewable through the doorway. Nodding, Josie obeyed and carried a sleeping Peaches to the rocker.
Sinking into it with an elegance that moved him to mentally thank God that he sent this woman to Del, Josie smiled at him. “I suppose I could put her down. She’s sleeping and I have things to do. She’s too small to roll off the sofa, isn’t she?”
“Just hold her. Enjoy what Santa sent you for Christmas. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She gave him a doubtful look. “Some poor woman left her, not Santa. I worry about her. What forced her to abandon this jewel?”
The graveness of the question deflated his mood. He’d focused on them and the miracle of Peaches. She brought them together and made them a family. He’d been pretending that the mother didn’t exist, he supposed.
Laying a hand on Josie’s shoulder, he looked down at the baby. “She chose a good place to leave her infant. I’m sorry that desperation drove her to it. I don’t regret that we have Peaches.” He ran a finger over her soft cheek and the baby stirred. She didn’t wake up, though. No, Peaches slept the sleep of the innocent.
Moving his finger to another soft cheek, he ran it over Josie’s velvet skin and then traced her lips with the tip of it. “We need to talk. Now, I’m getting something for you.”
Resisting the urge to place his lips where his finger had been, Del fled the sitting room like a cat with its tail on fire. Taking the steps two at a time, he made for the attic.
Lighting a lamp, he moved through the small door. “Anything else up here we can use?”
As he muttered to himself, Del looked around the attic. Nothing popped out to him as needed so he moved back into the room to set the lamp on a bureau.
Pushing the buggy in front of him, he blew out the lamp as he passed it. “I have to get this house wired for electricity.” Going back to oil lamps after having electric lights at the rooming house was annoying. Too, he wanted his Josie to be comfortable here.
Downstairs, he set the carriage on the floor and pushed it into the sitting room. Josie’s gasp of delight thrilled him. It was exactly the reaction he’d hoped for from her.
He felt the huge grin stretch across his face. She longed to nurture, but he craved the chance to provide for this woman. Her pleasure sent joy racing through his middle.
“It will be such a help!” Josie moved her free hand along the khaki wicker of the buggy before stroking the metal handle.
She laid Peaches inside. The baby didn’t wake. “Doesn’t she look perfect in there? Oh my, what a wonderful thing you’ve brought us!”
He preened, feeling like his chest would burst from the pride at her words. She knew exactly what to say. When she pushed the buggy toward the door, he watched her go with the satisfaction of a man taking care of his family.
Later, when they’d finished a delicious meal of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, Del plunged his hands into the soapy water. “Funny to have chicken on Christmas Eve.” Then he quickly assured her. “Don’t get me wrong. It was delicious.”
She thanked him with a smile before asking, “Why does it seem funny?”
He met her warm brown eyes and stared for a moment. When her expression turned worried, he smiled and spoke. “My family always has oyster soup on Christmas Eve. I’m not sure where or why the tradition started. Just something we always do.”
“Are you normally with your parents for Christmas?”
He nodded. “This year, my sister�
�s having her first baby. All the way out in Ohio. The parents took the train and are there for the holiday.” He didn’t add that they’d begged him to go along. He refused, not wanting to be around a couple and their new baby, even if it was his own sister.
“I’m blessed you didn’t go with them.” Her words brought him upright.
Had she read his thoughts. “How did you know they asked me to go?”
She shrugged delicately. Such a small movement of her fragile shoulders. “You looked lost in a memory when you explained where they were. It seemed you were remembering a decision you made. The rest I, well, just guessed.”
Since she stood close to him, he took a risk. Leaning down, Del kissed her cheek. “I’m glad I chose to stay.”
At the touch of his lips, she froze. Only for a moment. The ever-present pink-tinted the cheek he’d kissed and she smiled. “Peaches and I would be in trouble without you.”
Tongue-tied, he stayed silent. Rushing to scour the pans, he turned his eyes to the soapy water. Did he want her to be with him simply because she needed help? Before she said those words, he’d believed she wanted to be in this home. Enjoyed it, actually. What did her words mean?
An idea formed. It would be a test of sorts before he pushed her for a commitment. The poem. How would she react to it?
The water flowed down the drain and she hung up the damp towel. The dishes had been put in their places and the kitchen was set to rights. Time for his plan.
“Let’s enjoy the tree,” he invited. Peaches slept upstairs in the cradle. He would take advantage of this quiet time alone with Josie. Even the wind had died down, making this Christmas Eve truly a silent night.
Taking her soft hand in his work-roughed one, Del led her to the sofa. When he didn’t sit beside her, she gave him a bemused expression.
“Ever since my mother read me nursery rhymes, I’ve been a fan of poetry.” His statement caught her interest. He could tell by the gleam in her eyes.
“Do you like poetry, Josie?” She stayed oddly silent, only nodding in response. He liked that they had this interest in common.
A Snowy Delivery For Christmas (Ornamental Match Maker Series Book 20) Page 4