Page 41 of A Convenient Heart
She reached for a lamp on the side table and scrambled to light the wick. When the small flame lit the room, she turned back and saw Jack settling the young mother on a sofa.
He was in his shirtsleeves, and he was shivering. She saw it even though he tried to mask the motion.
She realized the young woman was wearing his coat.
“I’ll put on some coffee,” she said. “Jack, come with me.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told the young woman.
His tread on the floor was so much louder than the quiet shuffle of her bare feet, and she was aware of her barely dressed state and that it was the middle of the night—or was it coming on to morning?
She squinted out the kitchen window and saw the tiniest slice of silver light on the horizon. It was morning, but the late hour she’d gone to bed made it feel like she hadn’t slept at all.
She moved to the stove, quickly bending to stir the coals and tuck kindling inside.
Jack stood at a respectful distance, but before she closed the door and plunged them into shadow again, she saw the red chapped skin of his hands.
“What is going on?” she demanded in a whisper.
Last night, she’d left her shawl lying over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and she went to grab it. He stood still while she crossed the room back toward him, even as she tossed the knitted shawl around his shoulders.
It was dark and she was close, and she couldn’t tell whether the twitch of his lips was bemusement or something else. He did look a little silly, but she noticed the way he tucked his hands under his arms, crossed across his chest.
“She was in trouble,” he started. “The only place I could think to come was here.”
There was something in his voice when he said the words. Consternation maybe, or another emotion she couldn’t place.
It would help if she could see his face. She went to the shelf and pulled down another lamp.
“You’d better start at the beginning.”
He sighed. “I was playing a hand of poker at the saloon.”
She lost her hold on the lamp, and it thunked onto the table. “What in the world were you doing there?” She couldn’t quite contain the sharpness in her tone. He was silent as she struck a match and lit the lamp.
When she turned to face him, he’d shut himself away again. She could see it in his expression. The openness from only moments ago was gone.
But then he exhaled a frustrated sigh and pushed both hands through his hair, nearly dislodging the shawl. “I will tell you everything.” He didn’t sound happy about that, his voice low and almost angry. “But for now, let me explain about Miss Bauer.”
By the time he told her about the near-fight at the saloon, her heart was thrumming in her throat.
He could’ve been killed. She’d heard Danna talk plenty of times about how men who’d been drinking were quick to pull out a knife or gun.
Merritt didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful that he’d helped Velora Bauer.
“She’s new in town,” he said. “Her husband passed just before the baby was born. She’d been working at the café before it closed for repairs.”
He glanced into the sitting room, where the baby had begun crying again. “You got any porridge or…eggs, maybe? I think he’s hungry. She probably is too.”
Merritt moved to the basket of fresh eggs on the counter even as her mind clicked through all the information Jack had divulged.
“The lady she’s renting from is throwing her out. She had nowhere to go with the baby and thought?—”
Merritt could guess what she’d thought. The young woman had been desperate to provide for her child. Thank God Velora hadn’t been able to go through with it.
She sighed. “Of course I’ll help, and I’m glad you were there.”
Something sparked in his eyes.
