husband?”
Maggie nodded. “He was a handsome one, if something of a rake, and he had himself a knack for makin’ money. Time Keith was born, Daniel had four ships sailin’ the seas and the beginnings of the boatyard and the mill. They built this house right up around the cabin.”
Banner was still framing a response when the door leading from the dining room swung open and Adam came in. He spared one grin for his associate and then descended on Maggie’s peach pie filling, one finger curved to dip.
“You touch that and I’ll whack you!” Maggie threatened, brandishing the floury rolling pin in both hands.
Adam leaped back in comical alarm and then subsided to sit on the bench, beside Banner. “Shirking again, O’Brien?” he drawled.
Banner elbowed him in the ribs. “Shirking, is it? I, Dr. Corbin, have been in the hospital all morning, treating patients and cleaning instruments. You, on the other hand—”
Adam laughed. “It isn’t my fault that Jeff and Keith had to look at every pine between here and Portland before they could agree on a Christmas tree.”
“Speaking of that,” Maggie broke in, and there was irritation in her face and in the movements of her arms as she rolled out yet another circle of dough. “Are you going to be here tomorrow, or are you going to traipse off by yourself again?”
Instantly the festive humor was gone from Adam’s eyes. “I’ll leave in the morning, as usual,” he said sharply, rising to his feet and ignoring Banner. “Have the food ready.”
Maggie’s annoyance seemed to equal his, but she only nodded and vented her anger on the pie dough.
Adam turned and strode out of the kitchen, leavingBanner to draw her own conclusions about his plans for Christmas.
When she next encountered him, in the ward, he was examining Clarence King’s hand for infection. Having done this repeatedly herself, Banner knew that the wound was healing cleanly. In fact, now that he was over the shock of being stabbed, Clarence could have been released and sent on his way. Probably Adam was only keeping him because it was Christmas and the young man had nowhere else to go.
Banner went to the front windows of the ward, which overlooked Port Hastings and the now quiet harbor, too proud to approach Adam and strike up a conversation.
Francelle and Melissa were in the yard, laughing and flinging balls of snow at each other, and their voices were like songs rising on the wintery air. For all their commotion, Banner barely saw or heard them. She was thinking of the woman Adam would visit tomorrow, the woman he would take food to. Was she beautiful? Did he love her?
Banner’s eyes stung, and she bit her lower lip. She must be very special, Adam’s woman, whoever she was, if he would leave such a wonderful home and family at Christmastide to spend time with her.
In the snowy distance, a steam whistle blew, and the sound mingled with the joyous laughter of Francelle and Melissa, all of it combining to make Banner feel lonesome.
She lifted her chin, however, and thought of Adam’s woman again. I will take him from you, she vowed. She, Banner O’Brien, who had never wanted another man to come into her life, let alone coveted someone else’s love.
“Shamrock?”
She turned, slowly, not wanting to face Adam now but knowing that she must. “How is Clarence’s hand?” she asked, quite unnecessarily.
Adam grinned and folded his arms across his broad chest, his head tilted to one side. “It’s mending nicely,” he answered, and his dark blue eyes caressed her with a sort of quiet humor. Had he somehow guessed what she was thinking?
Banner blushed a little, praying that he hadn’t. “It’s still snowing,” she observed with an inanity that made her hate herself before the words were out of her mouth.
The indigo eyes laughed at her, but gently. “Yes, Shamrock, it is indeed still snowing.” He reached into the inside pocket of his gray silk vest and withdrew an envelope.
Maggie nodded. “He was a handsome one, if something of a rake, and he had himself a knack for makin’ money. Time Keith was born, Daniel had four ships sailin’ the seas and the beginnings of the boatyard and the mill. They built this house right up around the cabin.”
Banner was still framing a response when the door leading from the dining room swung open and Adam came in. He spared one grin for his associate and then descended on Maggie’s peach pie filling, one finger curved to dip.
“You touch that and I’ll whack you!” Maggie threatened, brandishing the floury rolling pin in both hands.
Adam leaped back in comical alarm and then subsided to sit on the bench, beside Banner. “Shirking again, O’Brien?” he drawled.
Banner elbowed him in the ribs. “Shirking, is it? I, Dr. Corbin, have been in the hospital all morning, treating patients and cleaning instruments. You, on the other hand—”
Adam laughed. “It isn’t my fault that Jeff and Keith had to look at every pine between here and Portland before they could agree on a Christmas tree.”
“Speaking of that,” Maggie broke in, and there was irritation in her face and in the movements of her arms as she rolled out yet another circle of dough. “Are you going to be here tomorrow, or are you going to traipse off by yourself again?”
Instantly the festive humor was gone from Adam’s eyes. “I’ll leave in the morning, as usual,” he said sharply, rising to his feet and ignoring Banner. “Have the food ready.”
Maggie’s annoyance seemed to equal his, but she only nodded and vented her anger on the pie dough.
Adam turned and strode out of the kitchen, leavingBanner to draw her own conclusions about his plans for Christmas.
When she next encountered him, in the ward, he was examining Clarence King’s hand for infection. Having done this repeatedly herself, Banner knew that the wound was healing cleanly. In fact, now that he was over the shock of being stabbed, Clarence could have been released and sent on his way. Probably Adam was only keeping him because it was Christmas and the young man had nowhere else to go.
Banner went to the front windows of the ward, which overlooked Port Hastings and the now quiet harbor, too proud to approach Adam and strike up a conversation.
Francelle and Melissa were in the yard, laughing and flinging balls of snow at each other, and their voices were like songs rising on the wintery air. For all their commotion, Banner barely saw or heard them. She was thinking of the woman Adam would visit tomorrow, the woman he would take food to. Was she beautiful? Did he love her?
Banner’s eyes stung, and she bit her lower lip. She must be very special, Adam’s woman, whoever she was, if he would leave such a wonderful home and family at Christmastide to spend time with her.
In the snowy distance, a steam whistle blew, and the sound mingled with the joyous laughter of Francelle and Melissa, all of it combining to make Banner feel lonesome.
She lifted her chin, however, and thought of Adam’s woman again. I will take him from you, she vowed. She, Banner O’Brien, who had never wanted another man to come into her life, let alone coveted someone else’s love.
“Shamrock?”
She turned, slowly, not wanting to face Adam now but knowing that she must. “How is Clarence’s hand?” she asked, quite unnecessarily.
Adam grinned and folded his arms across his broad chest, his head tilted to one side. “It’s mending nicely,” he answered, and his dark blue eyes caressed her with a sort of quiet humor. Had he somehow guessed what she was thinking?
Banner blushed a little, praying that he hadn’t. “It’s still snowing,” she observed with an inanity that made her hate herself before the words were out of her mouth.
The indigo eyes laughed at her, but gently. “Yes, Shamrock, it is indeed still snowing.” He reached into the inside pocket of his gray silk vest and withdrew an envelope.
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