A Midwife Crisis (12 page)

“I’m not a child, and he happens to be my fiancé.”

“One of them.”

She didn’t like his tone. He was dangerously close to meddling. “Yes, he’s
one
of them,” she said, schooling her voice to sound calm. “But, lest you forget, kissing is on my list.”

“Do you intend to kiss all of them?”

Now
he was meddling. “What if I do?”

“You can’t just go around kissing men without asking for trouble.”

“I’m not just kissing any men,” she said, voice rising, “only my fiancés. Besides, how am I supposed to choose if I don’t compare them?”

“How are you supposed to compare them if you don’t know what you’re comparing?” he answered angrily.

Setting her box lunch on the bench, she stood and fumed down at him. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been kissed before.”

Not to be outdone, he stood and placed his hands on his hips. “By whom?”

Mimicking his pose, she squared off with hands on hips. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“A lady doesn’t kiss half the county either.”

She gasped. “Who do you think you are?
My pa?
”

“You think I sound like your pa?”

“Worse! At least my pa knows I’m a woman, and I’m ready for a man.”

“Ha!” He ran his hand threw his hair and took a step toward her. “You think you’re ready for a man? You know nothing about men.”

“I’d like to know what makes you so sure of that!”

Before Katie saw it coming, he grabbed her around the waist and jerked her against him. His lips crushed hers, and everything she thought she knew about kissing crumbled away. She didn’t know kisses could melt her brain or flip her insides over. She didn’t know they could make her never want to stop kissing, even to breathe.

And she didn’t know how much she’d wanted to kiss him.

His intensity softened almost immediately as he worked his mouth against hers before sliding his hands to her shoulders and pulling away.

“I guess you were right,” she whispered, still stunned. “I wasn’t ready for that at all.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, stepping back. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She would have explained to him that it was all right. That she was a grown woman and they’d done nothing wrong, but before she had the chance, he hurried away, leaving her alone with kiss-tender lips, a mild case of shock, and a fifty-dollar chicken.

John adjusted the diploma on his office wall for the first time in weeks. Oddly enough, it had actually tilted a little to the left, though that wasn’t why it had garnered his attention. Unable to sleep, he had finally given up his attempt at four in the morning, and he’d been pacing ever since. It was either adjust the diploma or wear a hole in the rug.

Should he use the wagon to pick up Katie? He’d been doing that ever since the wolf attack, but thanks to his stupid impulsiveness, everything had changed. Never would he forget the look on her face when he’d kissed her. She had been so surprised. She would really swoon if she had any idea how many times he’d come close to kissing her before he actually had.

Of all the unbelievable, improbable events to happen at a church fall festival, kissing Katie had to be at the top of the list. Like a drunken buffoon, he’d plastered one on her. Only he hadn’t been drunk at all.

He stopped pacing—unaware until that moment he’d been doing it again—and looked at the clock. A quarter to nine and Katie wasn’t there. Maybe she’d decided she couldn’t work for him anymore. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been a cad, and a decent woman like Katie deserved better.

Damn, he was tired.

Dropping into a leather chair by the window, he stared at the cold fireplace. The room was chilled and a fire would be nice, but he deserved to freeze to death, so he leaned his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes to await his fate.

“John?” Katie’s voice pulled him back from that nebulous place between sleep and consciousness.

Slowly he opened his eyes, allowing his vision to clear. She stood above him, her cheeks pink from her walk in the brisk morning air, a curl or two escaping from her bun as she leaned to speak to him. She looked soft, and warm, and heaven help him, but he wanted to kiss her again.

Luckily his brain awoke before he did something to scare her away permanently. “Katie?” He bolted up-right. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He hurried from the chair to the fireplace. “I didn’t know if you were coming today. I would have built a fire.” Shuffling through the kindling, he began stuffing wood shavings into the hearth as he rambled. “It’s cold, and I should have picked you up, but I wasn’t sure…” He quit talking because he wasn’t sure of lots of things and trying to narrow it down could take a while.

“It’s all right,” she said, her voice breaking through the uncomfortable silence.

He turned to look at her and for a moment their gazes touched. She didn’t say more, but she didn’t need to. Her eyes told him it was all right, everything from the lack of fire to not picking her up, to the kiss.

All of it was all right.

And he wanted to kiss her again.

“Aren’t we going to work in the library?” she asked, and he realized he was staring.

“Um, yes.” He quickly averted his eyes to the fireplace.

“Then shouldn’t you just build a fire up there?”

That was logical and rational and for some reason, totally beyond his grasp at the moment. “Of course.” He stood and brushed his hands together, suddenly realizing she was still wearing her coat.

“May I take your coat?”

She smiled the way a woman smiles when a man is acting like an idiot, then unbuttoned her coat to hand to him. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the way he felt. Should he apologize for kissing her? He’d already done that once and damn it all to hell, but he didn’t really regret it. He
wanted
to regret it, or at least claim to. But a man didn’t think about committing a crime again if he truly regretted it the first time.

That made an apology out of the question. If only he could act as calm and unflustered as she was. She walked out of the room toward the library as though he hadn’t kissed a woman who was engaged, and engaged, and engaged.

He followed her up the steps, which left her hips at his eye level. Back and forth her brown skirts swayed as her bottom rocked with the motion of her steps. He’d bet that bottom would be firm and smooth in his hands.

Damn it! He closed his eyes hoping the adage “out of sight, out of mind” would kick in. Of course he
couldn’t be so lucky. Closing his eyes only allowed his mind to imagine what was out of sight. Would she wear pantaloons? He didn’t remember seeing bloomers when he worked on her knee, but maybe they had scooted up her thigh.

Great. Now he was thinking about her thighs.

Thunk
. His toe caught the edge of a step, causing him to stumble and forcing him to open his eyes.

“Are you all right?” She turned to ask him the question, which thankfully took his eyes away from her bottom. Unfortunately, he now stood at face level with the part of her bodice that swelled with her breasts.

She had breasts.

Two of them.

Surely he had noticed them before, but it was strange how everything had changed in an instant when he’d pulled her into his arms and laid one on her.

God help him, he was becoming a lunatic.

“I’m fine,” he blurted, wishing that were true. But the truth was, things were stirring that hadn’t stirred in a long time, and now was not the appropriate place to analyze them.

“Daddy!” Julia came running up the steps and for once he was glad she had the tendency to appear out of nowhere. Her widened eyes and flushed face jerked his focus away from Katie and her bottom. “What is it?”

“Mrs. Adkins fell off the back porch, and now she’s crying.”

With a quick sidestep, John raced around Julia, down the stairs, and through the house. He could hear Katie behind him talking to Julia as they also ran toward the back porch. By the time he reached her,
Mrs. Adkins was sitting in the yard, clutching her ankle, and was indeed crying.

“What happened?” he asked, gently lifting her foot.

“I just plain ol’ missed that last step. I feel like such a fool.” John handed her a handkerchief, which she wiped across her eyes.

Unlacing her boot, he carefully removed it to examine the damage. “Can you wiggle your foot?”

She did, but not without a wince and a gasp or two.

“Katie?” he said. “In my office, in the case with my supplies, are some splints and bandages. Could you bring me some?”

Katie nodded and hurried into the house while he continued to prod an ankle that was already swelling.

“Do you think it’s broke?” Mrs. Adkins asked.

“No, but you’re going to have to stay off of it for a while. Can your husband make you a crutch?”

She nodded, then clouded up again. “I’m sorry, Dr. Keffer.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d done this on purpose.”

She rewarded him with a weak smile, then wiped her cheek. “Who’s going to take care of you and Julia?”

John looked up at the porch where his daughter stood, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “Would you like to come down and help me?”

Julia nodded vigorously, then clutched the porch rail as though she feared she’d take a tumble too. One careful step at a time, she made her way off the porch and to Mrs. Adkins’s side.

“Are you going to be all right?” Julia asked, obviously still frightened.

Mrs. Adkins grabbed her hand. “I will, thanks to you. You done real good, fetching your daddy like that.” Julia smiled and John realized he needed to give Mrs. Adkins a raise.

Katie returned with the bandages and helped hold the ankle while John placed the splints and wrapped the injury. They managed to get Mrs. Adkins to the front of his house and into the wagon. After quickly hitching the mule, he climbed into the seat and gathered the reins. “Do you mind watching Julia while I take Mrs. Adkins home?”

Katie ruffled Julia’s hair and said, “Of course not.” Which was exactly what he knew she’d say.

Lightning pulled the wagon into the street just as Julia asked Katie, “Is Mrs. Adkins going to die?”

“No, sweetie,” Katie answered, “your daddy fixed her.”

The pride John felt vanished in a flash when the last thing he heard his daughter ask was, “Then why didn’t he fix Mommy?”

Katie knew John had heard Julia’s question by the sudden slump in his shoulders. Sadness knifed through her. “Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be,” she replied, watching John drive away and wishing she could hold him instead.

But based on the way he’d acted this morning, a hug was the last thing he’d want. He was so nervous she was afraid if she touched him he’d faint. Of course it’d serve him right. He had that effect on her every time he touched her and sometimes just when he looked at her.

“Let’s go inside and see if Mrs. Adkins had anything on the stove.” Katie took Julia’s hand and led her into the kitchen, hoping the distraction would keep her from thinking about the last time John had touched her. It’d been less than twenty-four hours ago and her lips still tingled.

“We hadn’t started on lunch yet,” Julia said with all seriousness. “I was going to make biscuits.”

“You’re good at that.”

Julia beamed. “Mrs. Adkins said I make the best biscuits in the county.”

Katie fought to contain her grin. Julia should be good at making biscuits. They’d had them every day for lunch ever since Katie had started working for John.

“Do you want me to make them for lunch?” Julia asked.

“If you would, please.” Katie watched amazed as Julia dragged her chair around the kitchen, climbing to get a bowl and flour from the Hoosier. She then slid out the tin top to make more room before asking Katie if she’d get her the milk.

“Where’s the springhouse?”

“I don’t know,” Julia answered, clearly puzzled by the question, “but the icebox is in the corner.”

An icebox. John had an icebox. Katie followed Julia’s pointing finger to the corner of the kitchen where a beautiful oak icebox stood waiting her inspection. Katie knew of people who had them, but had never had the opportunity to explore one before. After a quick examination of the brass hinges, she opened the door and stared in wonder at the dark interior.

Milk, eggs, cheese, and several jars of apple butter and preserves sat on the zinc shelves, cool as a cucumber. She almost giggled when she felt the temperature of the milk pitcher as she lifted it from the shelf.

An honest-to-goodness icebox.

Gracious, John was rich. The big house, library, and fifty-dollar chicken had been a clue, but the icebox really sent it home. Iceboxes didn’t work without ice and that meant someone had to be paid to bring it in.

“Daddy!” Julia’s excited greeting took Katie’s mind away from iceboxes.

John ruffled Julia’s hair in a way Katie’d never seen him do before.

“I’m making biscuits,” Julia announced. She hurried back to her awaiting dough bowl so she could prove her point.

Smiling at his daughter, he removed his coat. “I’m sure you are.”

“How’s Mrs. Adkins?” Katie asked while John laid his coat across the back of a chair.

“She’s fine, but I realized on the way home that I have a dilemma. I need to hire someone to fill in until Mrs. Adkins is back on her feet. Would you know anyone?”

“Katie will do it!” Julia jumped down from her stool and hurried to Katie’s side. “Won’t you, Katie? You already come three times a week. Can’t you come every day?”

“Oh, uh…” Katie glanced up at John and wished she could read minds. His was obviously whirling, which was good since hers seemed to have shut down.
Would John want her around all day, every day? Would she want it?

“I’ll teach you how to make biscuits,” Julia added in an attempt to sweeten her request.

“Julia,” John said, “Katie knows how to make biscuits, and I’m sure she doesn’t have enough time to come here every day.”

His tone caused Katie to stop just before blurting a refusal. He was hesitant, but almost wistful, like having her around appealed to him.

“I could come for a while,” she said tentatively, watching his face for a reaction. “At least until Mrs. Adkins is well.”

“Yeay!” Julia jumped up and down, clapping her hands as she jumped. “Maybe we can get a kitten!”

“A
kitten
?” John and Katie said in unison.

“Mrs. Adkins is allergic to cats, and I’ve always wanted a kitten.”

Julia ran from the room, temporarily forgetting biscuits, apparently in the pursuit of a feline.

John frowned, staring at the doorway through which Julia had dashed. “I didn’t know she’s always wanted a cat.”

“Given her age, this lifelong desire could’ve come about yesterday.”

John chuckled, then glanced in Katie’s direction, suddenly turning serious. “If you can’t…”

“Oh, I can. But if you don’t want…”

“I want,” he answered quickly, and she had the feeling he wasn’t talking about housekeepers.