Chapter 53

Marietta pulled the last loaf of bread from the oven and set it on her kitchen table to cool. There. That should see her through the next week. She covered the loaf with a clean towel and sat down in a chair, pushing a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.
"Mrs. James," a voice called through the open top half of the split kitchen door. Though only March, the day was warm and the heat of the oven was oppressive in the kitchen. "Marietta, Doctor Hamilton needs your help."
Ella Denslow stood on the step, two children clinging to her skirts, and one - not her own - in her arms. The boy, maybe five years old, squirmed mightily, but Ella held on with all the might of a seasoned veteran. "Mrs. Collins has gone into early labor and won't let the doctor in her room without another woman present. He's asked for you."
Adam had asked for her? Marietta's heart raced as she felt both flattered and frightened all at the same time. "But I know nothing about childbirth," she protested. "Why don't I mind the children and you go help?"
Ella shook her head. "No, he asked for you," she said. "Now be off with you."
Grimly Marietta stood, barely remembering to wash the flour from her hands before grabbing a shawl off the hook by the door. "Fine," she mumbled to her friend's back. "But this can't be a good idea."
Seeing Adam at the door of the Collins' family home only reinforced that opinion. He was still every bit as handsome as she remembered, and when he grazed her hand as he took her shawl, tiny jolts of lightning skittered along her skin.
"Thank you," he told her. "Judging by the timing and intensity of her contractions, I don't think it will be long."
"I still think Ella would have been a better choice," she said as she followed him up the stairs. "The closest I've come to this was helping midwife a horse. And that was over ten years ago."
"I don't need an assistant with experience," he said, pausing at the top of the stairs. "I need someone who understands me and won't take offense when I bark out orders or run screaming if things get messy. Ella would be a good choice, but I have more confidence in you."
"Very well." She snapped a salute. "Your lieutenant is reporting for duty, Captain."
"At ease, soldier," he teased back with the wry smile that made her knees go weak. "Now let's get on with the campaign."
It was well past dinnertime when Marietta placed a wrinkly, red-faced baby girl into her mother's arms while Adam packed up his equipment. The new father had ducked in to inspect the infant, even going so far as to hold his wife while Marietta and Adam changed the bed linens. Once the parents were convinced that their older children were truly welcome at the Denslows for the night, and Adam was assured that both mother and babe were well, the two of them took their leave, walking together toward Marietta's home.
"Thank you," Adam said again. "You're a far better assistant than even Thomas. If you ever need a position, I'd hire you as a nurse in an instant."
"No, thank you," she told him. His sincere compliment warmed her heart almost as much as seeing little Maryann Collins held safe in her mother's arms. "I'm well enough situated on my own, though I'm glad I was able to help."
"I'm going down to the pub for a bite of supper," he told her. "I'd like to buy you a meal as well since I know you missed your own." His arm went around her waist and her traitorous body leaned into his warmth and strength.
She opened her mouth to tell him no just as she hesitated before the steps to her front door. She'd had her one night of wild passion. Asking for more would be just tempting fate. The words that emerged surprised her as well as him. "I've a better idea. There's fresh bread and a chicken pie in my kitchen. Why don't you come inside and eat here instead?"
Adam caught his breath at the clear invitation in her low, husky murmur. She was inviting him in for more than just food, and he knew she was shocked at her own brazenness in doing so. His heart swelled along with his cock. He wasn't sure when he'd begun to fall in love with her, but it was probably right when he'd seen her standing on his doorstep with the dog in her arms. It had been a steep, steady decline ever since. Now all he had to do was convince her of the fact without frightening her off in the process.
"That's the best offer I've had all week," he said cautiously. He didn't want to do anything to frighten her into rescinding the invitation. "Chicken pie is a favorite of mine."
He held the door for her then followed her inside, straight through to the kitchen where five loaves of bread lay covered by towels on the table. He hung his soiled coat on a peg by the back door, taking her shawl and hanging it alongside. Then he watched while she removed her apron. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up to her elbows and still dusted with flour as well as disinfectant. Her hair hung past her waist in a thick braid, though numerous sable tendrils had escaped to frame her face and neck. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. To his eyes, she was altogether lovely.
They washed up together with the ease of long-time companions then Adam helped her carry food and dishes into the small dining room off the parlor. Her house was neat and tidy but full of color and comfort, feminine without being fussy. Just like the woman. She blushed prettily when he held her chair, smiled warmly as she poured his tea, handing it over black, without asking if he liked cream or sugar. She remembered every detail of that night, he suspected, just as he did.