Courting Miss Adelaide by Janet Dean Page A

“Whew, that was close!” She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you, Charles.”
    He grinned. “The pleasure was mine.”
    “Before you rescued me, I started to say—the committee didn’t suggest me. You did.” She laid a hand on his sleeve. “Am I right?”
    Charles nodded.
    Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you again.”
    “You’re welcome.” Those eyes would be his undoing. He pulled his gaze away and cleared his throat, motioning toward the door of the paper. “Before we go in, I want to warn you Emma is upset. Mrs. Drummond’s misery may be affecting her.”
    “Could be. Suicide has to be far worse than any natural death. I went to school and to church with Frances, so I knew her mother well. Sarah Hartman was a good woman.”
    Charles glanced over at the trim figure beside him, with her straight posture and youthful glow. “Mrs. Drummond looks old, worn down. I can’t believe you two are the same age.”
    “Farm life must have taken a toll on her, or maybe it’s that grouchy husband of hers.”
    He raised a brow. “You’re very outspoken.”
    “Well, it’s true, though I doubt her husband is the entire cause. I can’t imagine losing a child.” She paused, sympathy taking over her gaze. “Eddie’s death had to cost Frances more than hard work or a disagreeable spouse ever could.”
    “I’m sure you’re right.” He wouldn’t gain favor by harping on it, but the mention of Mrs. Drummond’s lost child hammered home the need to warn Addie about the brevity of Emma’s stay. “I’m concerned about your taking in Emma.”
    “Are you saying I’m not competent to care for a seven-year-old child, even for a while?”
    He heard the irritation in her voice, the underlying pain of what she perceived as doubt. “Of course not, but when Emma returns to the Drummonds, there’s a good chance you’ll be hurt.”
    Adelaide pulled her arm from his grasp. “I’m a grown woman, Mr. Graves. Your concern is touching, but unwarranted. Besides, this is part of God’s plan. I’m sure of it.” She moved toward the door. “If you’re finished, I’d like to get Emma settled.”
    Charles noted her formal address, the sharpness in her tone. She had every right to be annoyed. He’d suggested her, had dashed over to tell her and then had ruined the moment. “Addie.”
    She turned back, her expression cool.
    “Emma’s fortunate indeed to have you to look after her.”
    Her features softened and a smile crept across her face, lighting up her eyes. “Thank you, Charles.”
    Her grin touched his heart, tempting him to forget all those reasons he shouldn’t get involved, but sanity reigned and he walked her to the door of The Ledger.
    Inside the office, they found Emma rocking in his desk chair. With eyes closed, head lolling against the slats, her wide grin revealed two missing teeth. While he and Addie watched, the chair slowed and Emma’s eyes popped open. Her gaze darted from Addie to Charles and the smile faded.
    Addie knelt beside her. “I’m Adelaide Crum. I remember the day you came to town.” She motioned to the chair. “Is that fun?”
    The little girl’s head bobbed.
    “Do you suppose I could have a turn?”
    Emma hesitated and then scooted to the side, making room.
    “I won’t fit, but if you sat on my lap, we could both rock.”
    Charles’s jaw fell open when Emma hopped down and climbed into Adelaide’s lap. Soon, she and Emma giggled in the swaying chair, with its spring squealing, the awkwardness of their meeting forgotten. Watching them, something tightened in Charles’s chest. How long since he’d heard joy like that?
    Stored deep in his memory lived shrieks of terror, sobs and groans—the sounds of his childhood. Charles bit the inside of his cheek, fighting for control, mourning the loss of something he’d never had. Happiness. True happiness.
    Pain came in many forms. Charles had thought he’d experienced them all. He’d put them behind him—or so he’d thought. Yet, deep