30
ADAM WHISTLED CHEERFULLY while he chiseled away at the piece of wood on the table in his workshop. For the first time since he could remember—since his early childhood, really—his heart was filled with optimism for the future.
His hands stilled, and he looked around his work area with a sense of wonder. A prayer of gratitude lifted from the depths of his soul—gratitude for the opportunity to do the work he loved, gratitude to God for bringing his mother back from the brink of death, and gratitude for the love of Maggie Montgomery.
Less than three months ago, when he’d walked out of the penitentiary a free man, he never could have imagined receiving such an abundance of blessings. Adam resumed his work, making a silent vow to honor the Lord in all ways and prove himself worthy of His gifts.
The heavy tread of boots thudded across the floorboards in the outer store. Adam looked up to see the smiling face of John McNabb in the entrance to his workshop.
“You’ve done wonders with this place, Adam. I never imagined you could be ready to open for business so soon.”
Adam wiped his hands on a towel and moved to clap a hand on John’s shoulder. “Thanks to you, O’Leary’s Furniture Emporium will have its grand opening next week.”
They moved into the store, and as Adam viewed the area through John’s eyes, pride inflated his chest. The pieces he had ready to sell all exhibited the quality of his workmanship. He hoped it would be enough to entice customers to return on a regular basis to view the new stock he would be adding.
“How did you manage to get so much inventory ready to sell?”
Adam straightened one of the high-backed chairs. “I restored some older pieces. You’d be surprised how many people discard furniture for a broken leg or drawer. Easily fixable by someone who knows how.”
“I must say I’m very impressed.” He paused to look Adam in the eye. “And very proud. You’ve come a long way, my friend.”
Adam swallowed the swell of emotion in his throat. “I couldn’t have done it without you, John. You have my undying gratitude.”
John’s mouth quirked up in a grin. “Maybe now I can convince you to attend one of my services. I promise my sermon won’t put you to sleep.”
Adam laughed out loud. “As a matter of fact, I intend to come this Sunday. I have a great deal to give thanks for.”
The front door opened, and Maggie entered with a swish of skirts.
Adam couldn’t suppress a foolish grin at the unexpected sight of her. “Maggie. What a nice surprise.”
Upon spying John, she hesitated. “I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. I’d like you to meet my friend, John McNabb.”
Her blinding smile lit the room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McNabb. Adam has told me so much about you and everything you’ve done to help him.”
John bowed over her hand. “Funny, he hasn’t told me much about you at all.” He shot Adam a smug look before smiling at her. “Please, you must call me John.”
“And I’m Maggie.” She turned to Adam. “I came to see how the store’s progressing. I can’t believe how much you’ve done since I was here last.” She ran a finger over an oak dining table. “This is beautiful.”
Adam’s gaze followed her as she moved, unable to tear his eyes from her. In her blue-and-white dress, she mimicked a summer sky. Her ebony hair flowed in mesmerizing curls over her shoulders.
John cleared his throat, grinning. “Well, I must be going. I have a few parishioners to visit. It was nice to meet you, Maggie. I hope to see you again soon.” He lifted a brow. “Perhaps you’ll accompany Adam to church this Sunday. He’s finally agreed to attend one of my services.”
A flash of regret crossed her beautiful face. “I’d love to, but this Sunday is my first day playing the organ at St. Patrick’s.”
John’s eyes widened. “The cathedral? How did you manage that?”
Adam strode forward to steer John toward the door. “That’s a story for another day, my friend.”
John chuckled. “I can take a hint. See you on Sunday.”
When Adam turned back to Maggie, a tinge of pink colored her cheeks in a most becoming manner. He could hold his longing in check no more and swept her into his arms.
She gasped. “Adam! What are you doing? Anyone could come in.”
“Let them.” He lowered his head to capture her lips with his.
Though she gave an initial squirm of protest, she soon melted against him and returned his kiss.
When they parted, he gazed down into her flushed face. “I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of holding you in my arms.”
“You, sir, are far too adept at kissing. You make me forget everything around me.” She disengaged herself and smoothed the bodice of her dress.
“Did you really come to see the store, or did you have an ulterior motive?”
“Other than kissing you, you mean?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Ah, so you admit the real reason for your visit.”
Her laugh tinkled out over the shop. “I came to see you . . . to ask a favor.”
“Another kiss like that and I’ll do anything,” he teased.
Though she smiled, a hint of anxiety loomed on her face.
“What is this favor?” Anything to make the joy return to her countenance.
“I’d like you to take me to check on Ivy. I thought it would make Rylan and Colleen feel better to know she’s being properly cared for.”
Though he dreaded returning to the saloon, Adam had been meaning to check on Jolene and make sure she was keeping her promise. Mama’s illness, not to mention his fixation on the woman before him, had derailed many of his plans.
“I’ll go later today.” He lifted her chin with one finger. “But you will not be accompanying me.” Under no circumstances would he allow Maggie to enter such a seedy place. Nor did he want her to witness the type of life he’d led before his conversion.
She scowled at him, tiny ridges forming over her nose. “You listen to me, Adam O’Leary—”
“Yes, Miss Montgomery?” He bit back a grin at her famous temper, which made her Irish lilt all the more pronounced.
She poked a finger into his chest. “Just because you’re courting me does not give you the right to dictate what I can or cannot do.”
He captured her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her palm. “Does the fact that I care about your welfare mean anything?”
She paused. “Of course, but—”
“Then trust me on this, Maggie.”
She stared at him for a moment before huffing out a breath. “Very well. As long as you promise to let me know what you find.”
“I promise.” He twisted one of her curls around his finger. “It will give me a good excuse to drop by and see you later.”
She laughed and stepped back. “I suppose I’d best go and let you get on with your work. I’m off to St. Patrick’s to practice.”
He walked her to the door and paused to give her another lingering kiss. A shadow of movement across the street caught his attention. Memories of Neill Fitzgerald flashed into his mind, filling him with guilt. How had he gotten so lax with Maggie’s safety?
“Wait.” He untied his work apron and hung it over a nearby chair. “I’ll walk with you.”
She appeared ready to argue, but his grim expression must have given her pause. Instead, she winked. “Face it, Mr. O’Leary, you can’t get enough of my company.”
Adam repressed a shudder later that day as he entered the door of the Lucky Chance Saloon. Fortunately it was early enough that the place was essentially empty. Marty leaned on the counter of the bar, perusing a newspaper.
He looked up as Adam crossed the room. “Back again, O’Leary?”
Adam gave a brief nod. Marty would be more likely to cooperate if Adam tried to be friendly. He pointed at the newspaper. “What’s happening in the world today, Marty?”
The man gave a weighty sigh and flipped the paper to the front page. “Nothing good. Hope the war doesn’t spread to this side of the world.”
“You and me both.”
“So what brings you by again?”
Adam placed a foot on the brass rail and attempted to keep his tone casual. “I’ve come to talk to Jolene. Is she around by any chance?”
Marty’s gaze shifted toward the back hall. “She’s probably sleeping, like most of the girls at this hour.” He straightened his large frame. “If you want to see her, you should come back when she’s working.”
Adam held back a grimace of distaste. The last thing he’d do was come when the bar was in full swing. “Guess you’re right. How’s Max handling her having a baby?”
Marty jerked, sloshing coffee from the cup on the counter. “Keep your voice down. How do you know about . . . it?”
“Long story.” He narrowed his eyes. “What are you hiding, Marty?’
He dragged a cloth across the bar. “Look, Max doesn’t know about the kid. We’re all helping Jolene so he doesn’t get wind of it.”
Suspicion soured Adam’s stomach. “Who watches the baby while she’s working?”
Marty’s face hardened. “If you want to know more, talk to Jolene.” He turned away to wipe the ledge behind him, where the bottles of liquor stood.
Frustration hummed through Adam. Marty had clammed up tighter than a vise grip. He’d get nothing further from him. And Adam couldn’t afford to hang around the bar until Jolene happened to come down. He’d have to come back another time. Disappointment ran through him at the thought of having no news for Maggie.
He tugged on his cap, about to head for the door, when a distinctive cry sounded from the rear of the building. Adam whirled, noted the panic on Marty’s face, and barreled down the hall to Marty’s office. He pushed open the door, and the wailing grew louder. Adam rushed in, eyes scanning as he went. In the far corner, wedged between the desk and the wall, the rim of a wicker basket was visible. Conscious of Marty’s heavy footsteps, Adam crossed the untidy room and peered down at the squalling infant. Wrapped in an old towel, Ivy’s little face, red and puckered, howled at him. An arrow of hot rage seared Adam’s chest. What kind of mother left her infant holed away in a filthy room all alone?
He reached into the basket and lifted the baby, frantically trying to remember how Maggie had held her.
“O’Leary, what are you doing?” Marty huffed and puffed, his stomach rising and falling with his heaving breath.
Adam pushed past him. “I’m taking this child to its mother.” He strode down the hall, his boots slapping the floor.
“Wait. You can’t go up there.”
“Watch me.” For all his bravado, Adam’s insides roiled. He’d sworn he’d never climb those stairs, but there was nothing else he could do at the moment. “What room is Jolene in?”
“Max will kill me if he finds out . . .”
The baby screeched louder.
“Either tell me, or I start opening doors until I find her.”
Marty blanched, nervously fingering the strings of his apron. “All right, but make it quick. Third door on the right.”
Adam charged up the stairs, trying not to jostle the babe. When he reached the third door, he steeled himself for what he might find, and then knocked.
Someone mumbled a few choice words on the other side.
“Open up, Jolene.”
Rustling noises came from inside. “I’m sleeping. Go away.”
“I’ll give you to the count of three or I’m coming in.”
“Wait.”
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.