A Baby Between Them

She gave him that prim spinster-aunt look. “Oh, no, I’m quite good at figures. After Mother passed on, Da left me to handle the household finances.”

Another responsibility she’d shouldered. How old had she been when she’d taken that one on?

“Anyway, even being conservative,” she continued, “the figures were daunting. And I know that there’s not just food and everyday supplies to think about. I need to consider the repairs that still need to be done to the house and now to the barn.” She raised a hand. “Whatever you were planning to say, please don’t. I simply cannot let you continue to work at the cottage without pay.”

She shifted in her seat. “There will be the added expense of the—” she paused a moment and eyed him primly “—the wagon animal to see to.”

Still smarting over his insistence on a horse, was she?

“And while I am quite good at stretching provisions if I do say so myself,” she sat up straighter, a proud lift to her shoulders, “I need to make certain there is sufficient food on the table each and every day for four people.”

No doubt about it, in spite of her prickly exterior, Nora Murphy had a nurturing streak a mile wide. But where was she going with all of this? “If you don’t think I’m paying you enough—”

She shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no, I’ve no complaints on that account. The wage you pay me is more than generous, and, the Good Lord willing, I truly think I can make it stretch to cover most of our expenses.”

“So what is it that’s worrying you?”

“There’s something else I need to do to make the cottage truly a home for me and Grace as well as the Coulters.”

“And that is?”

She clasped her hands in her lap, squeezing them tightly together. “As Colleen Murphy’s daughters and heirs, the cottage belongs to all three of us. Since my sisters now have homes of their own, I would like to purchase their portions from them.”

Now that did surprise him. Not the idea that she wanted to stake her claim to independence, that was absolutely in character. But that she thought her sisters would require, or even accept, payment from her. He didn’t know Bridget and Maeve well, but he knew them well enough to know they’d be affronted at even the suggestion. “You really think they’d expect you to buy it from them?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely certain that they would simply give it to me if I asked them to, but that’s not what I want. I won’t feel like it is truly mine unless I do what’s right and proper.”

“And what’s to say that them giving you their portions is not exactly what is right and proper?”

“My conscience. So, I need to find another way to earn money in addition to the work I do for you.”

Stubborn woman. “I see. Then you want to cut down on the hours you spend working for me—is that it?”

“Not exactly. Actually, I think I have the perfect solution, but I wanted to get your thoughts on it.”

He was both intrigued and a bit flattered by her request for his counsel. “I’m listening.”

“I’d like to make pies and cakes to sell here in town.” She announced her plan as if it was the answer to all her problems. Then she looked at him expectantly.

He tried to wrap his mind around what she’d just said. “Start a bakery business you mean?”

“Yes, but on a very small scale.” She seemed less certain now. “You did say that folks seem to like my cakes and pies.”

“Absolutely. I can’t say as I ever tasted better.”

His answer seemed to buoy her confidence once more. She smiled up at him with the raindrops glistening on her long dark lashes, vividly brightening her blue eyes, and he had to blink to clear his suddenly muddled thoughts.

“And Will has asked me to consult with his chocolatiers on how to improve his chocolates,” she continued, “so perhaps I could somehow combine the two things.”

Did she really understand the amount of work that would be involved in such an undertaking? “You’d have to make an awful lot of baked goods to make any sort of profit at it.”

“I know. And I’m not afraid of hard work. But I would need your help.”

She’d managed to surprise him yet again. “You want me to help you do your baking?” His only foray into baking was biscuits and he wouldn’t exactly be bragging on his results.

But his question earned him a grin. “Nothing so challenging. I would, of course, do a lot of my baking at home. But I’d like to do some of it during the day, as well. Only, well, that would mean using your oven.” She fluttered a hand in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I promise not to do any less work for you than I already am.” The words were rushed, as if she was trying to forestall an objection. “I can continue to clean and wash and cook your meals while my baked goods are in the oven.”

He didn’t for a minute doubt that she would be conscientious about her work. “Where do you plan to sell these delicacies?”

The look she shot him let him know she realized he hadn’t answered her question. But she followed his lead. “I thought perhaps Mrs. James at the general store might be willing to sell some goods on commission for me and perhaps Rosie over at the boardinghouse would take some to serve to her boarders, as well.” She stared at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

She really had given this some serious thought. “I think it’s certainly worth a try. I might be able to drum up a few other customers for you, as well.” That earned him a grateful look. “In fact,” he added, “the workers over at the mill might be a good group to talk to.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll speak to Will when he and Bridget get back into town.” She eyed him uncertainly. “So you’re agreeable to my baking while I work for you?”

“On one condition.”

“And that is?”

“That you start small and don’t work yourself to exhaustion.”

She nodded. “I understand. I wouldn’t be very useful as a housekeeper if I didn’t have the energy to do my job.”

Cam didn’t comment. If she thought that was his reason then far be it from him to say otherwise.

Chapter Six

Nora shook her head over Cam’s insistence that he drop her off at the door to his office, but she was grateful nevertheless. As he handed her down, she noticed that where the ends of his hair had gotten wet, the straw color had darkened to chocolate brown and had started to curl just the tiniest bit. She found her thoughts straying to what it might feel like to test the spring of that curl against her fingers.

Shaking off that totally inappropriate thought, she said a quick thank-you and bustled into the sheriff’s office. She greeted Ben and Gavin, both of whom were sipping cups of the thick liquid that passed for coffee inside these walls when she wasn’t around.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight on a dreary morning.” Ben’s smile changed to a frown. “Where’s Gracie? Nothing’s happened to her I hope.”

“No, no, Grace is just fine. But I didn’t think it would be wise to take her out in this weather so I left her with the Coulters today.”

He nodded. “I suppose that was the right thing to do. I’m sure going to miss having that little girl around today, though.”

Ben and Gavin had both warmed up to Grace quickly enough. They even helped watch her when Nora was particularly busy with some chore or other.

Nora turned back to Gavin. “Did you have a nice visit with your brothers and Mrs. Fitzwilliam after the wedding?”

Gavin nodded. “I sure did.” Then he grimaced. “If only Mrs. F would quit trying to talk me into returning to Boston with them.”

Nora raised a sympathetic brow. “She means well.”

He shrugged. “I know. And I’m grateful that she’s seeing that my brothers go to school. But that’s not for me—this is where I want to be.”

“Give her time. She’ll come around.” Nora untied her makeshift rain hat. “How goes her search for her granddaughter?”