A Worthy Heart Page 28

  More scurrying could be heard. At last, the door opened, and Jolene stepped out into the hallway, belting a thin robe around her. Her hair sat in a tangled mess on her head, and smears of black makeup streaked her face. Jolene scowled. “Can’t you get her to be quiet?”

  Adam held the baby out to her. “I believe that’s your job. Why isn’t she in the room with you?”

  Jolene made no effort to take the baby from him. “I need my sleep so I can function at work. Marty said he’d watch her for me.”

  “Well, she was shoved in a back corner of Marty’s office all alone.”

  “Probably because she was asleep. Take her back to Marty.” She moved toward the door, but Adam barred her way.

  “You’re awake now. Take care of your daughter, Jolene. Or do I have to call someone from Children’s Aid?”

  Right then, Ivy chose to screech at the top of her lungs.

  The door to Jolene’s room opened, and a paunchy, middle-aged man in an undershirt peered out. “What’s all the noise out here, Jolene? I’m trying to sleep.”

  Jolene’s eyes darted from Adam to the man. “It’s all right, Harry. This man has the wrong room. Go back to bed.”

  A full-blown rage roared through Adam. “Since when do your customers spend the night?”

  She glared at Adam. “Harry’s not a customer, he’s my boyfriend.”

  Adam stared. “Is he Ivy’s father?”

  “No, I met Harry after I started back to work here.” She jutted her pointed chin at him. “I don’t know which of my customers is the baby’s father.” Jolene clutched Adam’s sleeve then, eyes darting to the door. “Look, I think I made a big mistake taking the baby back. I’m just not cut out for motherhood. And besides, Harry doesn’t like kids.”

  Adam stared at her ragged state of disarray and clamped his lips together to keep from shouting at the woman. God had given her an amazing gift, yet she chose this life and that man over her baby. He patted Ivy’s tiny back and jiggled her on his shoulder. Thankfully, she began to settle.

  “Would you be willing to let my sister and her husband raise her?”

  Jolene gazed at the back of Ivy’s head, and her chin wobbled. A single tear ran down her cheek, trailing through the black makeup. “I think it would be best for the baby.”

  Adam’s heart rate quickened, but he kept any expression from his face. “You have to be sure. There’s no changing your mind again. I won’t do that to Colleen a second time.”

  “I understand.”

  “Then you’d be willing to sign papers waiving your rights?”

  Jolene’s shoulders drooped, and she sighed. “Yes.”

  Adam purposely softened his manner. “You’re doing the right thing for your daughter. She’ll have a good home with Colleen and Rylan.”

  “I know.” More tears fell. She raised a hand and laid it on the baby’s back. “Good-bye, sweet girl.” She swiped a sleeve across her cheek. “Just a minute and I’ll get you the rest of her things.” She disappeared into the room and emerged a few seconds later with a blanket and a few pieces of clothing.

  Adam accepted them. “We’ll have a lawyer draw up papers and bring them by for you to sign.”

  Jolene wrapped her arms around her too-thin frame. “Fine.” She regarded him with weary eyes. “Will you promise to let me know how she’s doing?”

  Though he hated the idea of ever returning to this God-forsaken place, Adam nodded. “I can do that. Good-bye, Jolene.”

  Before she could change her mind, Adam headed back downstairs, clutching the precious bundle to his chest.

  31

  MAGGIE LOOKED OUT the parlor window at Colleen and Rylan’s, scanning the street below for any sign of Adam. She’d assumed he would be here before the evening meal, but it was now long past eight o’clock.

  Perhaps his plans had changed. Perhaps he needed to get straight back to the store to finish a repair for one of the people John had recommended to him.

  She sighed and replaced the curtain at the window. No point in stewing. He’d come when he was able. Maggie only prayed the wee girl was faring well with her mother.

  Maggie walked to the fireplace and stirred the dying embers, her thoughts turning to Gabe. She wished she’d had the chance to say good-bye, for she feared she might never see him again. She straightened and whispered a quick prayer for her brother’s safety, wherever he might be.

  Voices sounded in the hall, and Rylan and Colleen entered the room. Maggie turned, relieved to see Colleen looking much more like her old self now that Delia was home and well again.

  Colleen took her chair by the fireplace. “Sorry to take so long. Delia insisted on three stories.”

  Rylan grinned. “We don’t have the heart to deny her anything right now.”

  Maggie laughed, pleased to see her brother’s sunny nature returning. “I hope she doesn’t ask you for a pony, or you’ll be in real trouble.”

  Rylan shook his head, the glow from the table lamp reflecting merriment in his brown eyes. “Bad enough she has Chester sleeping by her bed all the time.”

  Maggie took a spot on the sofa beside him, smoothing her skirts beneath her. “I always knew Chester was meant for this family. It’s clear he adores Delia.”

  And Adam, she added silently. She hadn’t told Rylan or Colleen about the mission she’d sent Adam on, just in case Ivy wasn’t thriving in her new home. Maggie didn’t want to burden Colleen and Rylan with any more bad news.

  When a loud knock sounded on the front door, Maggie’s heart gave an excited leap. “I’ll get it.”

  Rylan exchanged a look with Colleen that told Maggie he suspected why she was so eager to get the door. He wasn’t thrilled with the new state of her relationship with Adam, but Maggie felt confident Adam would win her brother over in the end.

  At the front entrance, Maggie took a moment to smooth her hair before opening the door. In the waning evening light, Adam stood on the doorstep, holding a bundle against his shoulder.

  Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth. Instant tears sprang to her eyes.

  He grinned. “May we come in?”

  Silently, she moved aside and allowed him into the narrow corridor.

  He held out the baby to her. “Hold her for a minute? I need to get something.”

  Maggie gladly cuddled the baby in her arms, hardly daring to think what this might mean for her brother and sister-in-law. Above the tiny face, Ivy’s shock of dark hair peeked out from the blanket. Other than the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, the child didn’t seem any the worse for wear.

  Adam returned carrying a wooden cradle. “I stopped by the shop to pick this up. I made it before Jolene came to claim Ivy.” He shrugged. “I didn’t have the heart to give it away.”

  “Maggie, who was at the door?” Rylan strode into the hall. When he spied the baby, he stopped dead. “What’s this?”

  Adam removed his cap. “Maggie asked me to check on Ivy. I discovered she wasn’t being properly cared for . . . so I brought her back.”

  Instead of the joy Maggie expected, Rylan’s eyebrows thundered together. “I won’t put my wife through the grief of losing this child again.”

  Adam held up a hand. “I made that very clear. Jolene has agreed to sign legal documents to allow you to adopt her.”

  Maggie held the child out to Rylan. “Why don’t you go and give Colleen the most wonderful surprise?”

  Rylan hesitated a second, then took the baby into his arms. “Hello, Ivy. We’re happy to have you home again. I’m sure you want to see your mama.”

  Maggie clamped her lips together to contain her emotions as she and Adam followed Rylan into the parlor. Busy with her knitting, Colleen didn’t look up right away. Only when Rylan stopped in front of her chair did she raise her head.

  A strangled cry escaped her. She leapt to her feet, the wool falling to the floor.

  “Ivy has come back to us, love.” Rylan held out the bundle to Colleen.

  “Can this be true?” S
he gazed at the infant with absolute awe, then bent to kiss each cheek. With a sob, she hugged the baby to her neck and rocked her back and forth.

  Maggie’s own eyes misted with tears of joy.

  Adam set the cradle on the floor beside Colleen’s chair. “I told Jolene you’d have a lawyer draw up the necessary papers for her to sign, waiving her rights. Taking legal steps should ensure that she won’t change her mind again.”

  “Adam, how can I ever thank you?” Her eyes awash with tears, Colleen leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  He laid a hand on Ivy’s head, so large yet so gentle. “This is all the thanks I need.” His rough voice gave away the extremity of his emotions. He cleared his throat. “Um, the poor thing was in a bit of a mess. I tried to clean her up, but you might want to check the diaper.”

  Maggie choked back a giggle at the astonishment on Colleen’s face, as though she couldn’t imagine him changing a baby.

  Colleen laughed. “I’ll do that right away. Care to help me, Rylan?”

  “Nothing would make me happier.”

  On the way out, Rylan paused in front of Adam. “There are no words to thank you for what you’ve done. To see Colleen so happy again, after nearly losing both girls . . .” He broke off, unable to continue. Instead, he pulled Adam into a hard hug.

  Adam blinked and gave him an awkward pat. “She’s my sister. I’m glad I could do something for her.”

  When Rylan excused himself, Maggie chuckled at Adam’s bewildered expression. “I see you’re not familiar with my brother’s exuberant expression of emotion.”

  “Exuberant is one way to describe it.” Adam grinned, the lines on his forehead easing. “At least he’s not scowling at me anymore. I still can’t believe he’s allowed me to court you.”

  Maggie moved close enough to see the variation of color in his beard. “I think he has his reservations, but this has definitely helped.” She tilted her head. “When I asked you to check on Ivy, I didn’t dare hope for this outcome. I only prayed you’d find her safe and healthy.”

  Adam’s expression darkened. “It’s a good thing you weren’t there. No child should have to live like that.”

  Images of filth and degradation invaded her thoughts, and she breathed a prayer of thanksgiving that Adam had saved Ivy from such a fate. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

  His eyes shone an intense blue. “I’d do anything within my power to make you happy, Maggie.”

  She reached up on tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, his strength and gentleness enveloping her.

  With God’s blessing—and her brothers’—Maggie prayed she could stay safe in Adam’s arms forever.

  Adam’s feet barely touched the ground as he made his way home. Not since his days as a young boy had such a sense of happiness saturated his heart.

  Thank You, God, for Your blessings. For allowing me to bring Ivy back to Colleen, and for Maggie, who for some unfathomable reason loves me.

  A grin stretched his face from ear to ear, and though he must look a fool, walking the streets of New York smiling at nothing, he couldn’t seem to stop.

  His thoughts turned to the gift of his mother’s unexpected recovery. It amazed him how God had used a bad situation to bring about good. Mama’s illness had been terrifying, yet it had given Adam a chance to see James in a different light, as though the blinders had fallen away and the truth had been revealed. In those uncertain days, they’d come a long way toward healing their relationship. A feat he’d never dreamed possible.

  Now if he could just make a success of his shop, perhaps he’d achieve respectability in his father’s eyes—at last.

  The warmth of his newfound happiness carried him all the way to the corner of his street—until the sound of alarm bells and people yelling pulled an icy chill through his veins. A crowd had gathered in front of the mercantile. Smoke billowed upward from the roof of the buildings. Old Mr. Sampson, the proprietor, stood in the road, waving at the firemen jumping from the truck.

  On a rush of adrenaline, Adam raced forward. If the mercantile was on fire, he needed to help put it out and make sure it didn’t spread.

  When he reached the next corner, his feet faltered. The horrible truth smacked him in the face like a bucket of cold water. His shop was on fire. The firemen aimed their hoses at the flames and smoke pouring out of his store.

  Alternate currents of heat and ice raced from Adam’s head to his toes. He tried to rush past the crowd, but Mr. Sampson grabbed his arm. “You can’t go in there, son. It’s too far gone.”

  “I have to save the furniture.”

  “It’s too late.” The man stood with his shirttail flapping. “We thought it was our store at first. By the time we sounded the alarm—”

  A high-pitched buzzing in Adam’s ears drowned out the words. He had to do something before all was lost. Adam sprinted down the side alley of the mercantile toward the back entrance to his workshop. Furious thoughts pounded through his brain. If the fire was mostly in front, maybe he’d have time to save some inventory.

  Sweat poured off Adam’s forehead as he pushed through the rear door. A thick cloud of smoke immediately encircled him. He coughed, covered his face with his arm, and forged on, relying on his memory to guide him. Like a blind man, he felt his way across the room, grabbed what felt like a cabinet, and hefted it onto his shoulder. As quickly as possible, he made his way outside to the back lane. Eyes stinging from the smoke, he dropped the cabinet and fell to his knees, fighting to get air into his lungs. After a fit of coughing, he pushed to his feet and headed back inside. Whispers of panic threatened to overwhelm him. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow himself to think he might lose everything.

  This time the smoke was thicker, and intense heat blasted him from the store. Flames licked the wall between the front room and the workshop, but Adam pressed on. If he could rescue another few pieces, maybe all his work wouldn’t have been in vain.

  Barely able to open his eyes, he made his way to the bench, feeling his way until he hit a large solid object—the table he’d been sanding. He lifted it and inched his way back through the intense smoke. Flames hissed and crackled, as if warning Adam of their approach. His lungs screamed for air. Where was the opening?

  He gasped in a breath, but his lungs seized in a fit of coughing. He crashed to his knees, ramming the table against his chest. Heat engulfed him from all sides. He had to get up.

  Lord, help me!

  With his last surge of energy, he crawled across the floor in the direction of the door. Flames scorched the air around him. The floorboards vibrated as he crawled on, an inch at a time. In the distance, voices shouted. He kept his face low to the floor, but his lungs spasmed, attempting to steal oxygen. When he thought he could go no farther, hands clamped on his arms and dragged him outside.

  Blessed coolness bathed his face. He sucked in great gulps of air, yet his body failed to register the fact that he could now breathe.

  His chest seemed to collapse as darkness overtook him.

  32

  THE MORNING SUN streamed in through the kitchen window, bathing Colleen and little Ivy in an almost angelic light. A thrill of delight slid through Maggie as she watched Colleen rock the child after her morning bottle. Despite the upheaval of the previous day, Ivy seemed in fine spirits. Bathed, dressed in clean clothing, and now with a full tummy, she dozed contentedly in Colleen’s arms. Colleen gazed at the babe with such tenderness that silly tears brimmed in Maggie’s eyes. Tears of happiness.

  Thank You, Lord, for seeing us through the typhoid crisis with our loved ones unharmed and for the added miracle of Ivy’s homecoming. Rylan and Colleen deserve this happy ending.

  Maggie hummed to herself as she washed the breakfast dishes, looking forward to getting back to work at the orphanage. Maybe she’d have a chance to give a few piano lessons today, if the children’s schedule allowed.

  She turned from the sink, wiping her hand
s on a towel, as Rylan entered the kitchen. Words of greeting died on her lips at the distressed lines around Rylan’s eyes.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Maggie stilled, praying Mrs. O’Leary hadn’t suffered a relapse.

  But Rylan wasn’t looking at his wife. His sympathetic brown eyes were trained on Maggie. “You’d best take a seat.”

  She sank onto a kitchen chair, her heart thudding in her chest. “What is it?”

  Rylan crouched beside her, his face even with hers, and took her hand in his. “There was a fire last night. Adam’s shop burned down.”

  Maggie’s blood ran hot then cold. “No.”

  “Adam was taken to the hospital.”

  The air whooshed from Maggie’s body, and she sagged like a rag doll. The room swam around her.

  Colleen leaned over the table to clutch Maggie’s other hand. “Dear God. Is he all right?”

  “I don’t know, love. His friend, John McNabb, called to tell me. He was about to go up to the hospital to see him.”

  On a burst of frantic energy, Maggie pushed up from her chair and lunged toward the door. She tore off her apron with shaking hands. “Which streetcar do I take to get to the hospital?”

  Colleen rose with little Ivy in the crook of her arm. “Rylan, you must take Maggie and find out how Adam is.”

  Rylan straightened and nodded. “All right. Let me get my hat.”

  The trip to the hospital went by in a blur, with Maggie only vaguely aware of the streetcar ride. She thanked God that Rylan was with her to ask all the pertinent questions at the hospital reception desk when they arrived. Maggie’s brain seemed frozen, incapable of one coherent thought, other than to pray for Adam.

  A nurse ushered them to a large ward in the main wing, consisting of many beds, most of them with the curtains drawn. She motioned to a seating area. “You can wait here. The doctor is in with him now. He won’t be long.”

  Maggie couldn’t sit. She paced the floor, trying to ignore the moans of the patients. The strong medicinal scent of antiseptic and cleanser seared Maggie’s nostrils, forcing her to cover her nose with her handkerchief. At last, the curtain around Adam’s bed moved and a nurse emerged carrying a tray of medical supplies.