“No, but I give you leave to change your mind when you know me better.”
“If that eases your conscience.”
“It does.”
“All right.” He released her hand and began collecting hiswork materials. “I told you that train wouldn’t arrive on schedule, didn’t I?”
She nodded. “This is the third time you told me. Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?”
Roen answered but with a great deal of hesitation. “I might have thought that.”
“You probably shouldn’t admit it.”
“So I’m learning.” He glimpsed her faint smile. It was all right, then. She was amused. “It occurred to me that Victorine’s imminent arrival might account for your apprehension.”
“Well, it doesn’t because I heard you.”
“Mm.”
Lily got up and checked the bread again. This time she pulled the loaf pan out of the oven and set it on a cooling rack. “What are we going to do about a place for you to work?”
“What’s in the room between here and the parlor? I’ve never seen inside. The door’s always closed.”
“It’s where I do the ironing and cut out patterns. I keep the fabric that Mrs. Fish gives me in there along with items to mend and remnants for quilting. The door’s not locked; the children know better than to go in there. Look for yourself and see if it will do. I can rearrange my things, clear the table, and put the ironing board against the wall. You’ll need a chair, though. You could take one from the parlor.”
“Let me look,” he said before Lily went on reorganizing in her head. If he let her—and he wasn’t sure he could stop her—she would have the room ready for him before it was time for bed. “If you don’t mind, I’ll put these materials in there now.” He rolled up the maps; slipped his compass, protractor, and pencils into a leather case; and closed the sketch pad and notebook. Carrying all of it under one arm, he went halfway down the hall and stopped at the closed door.
“You might have to push your way in,” Lily called to him from the kitchen.
She was right. The door met resistance before it was two-thirds of the way open. He shouldered his way in but stopped when he heard something fall. Whatever it was had a soft landing, and he hoped that meant no permanent damage had been done.
A light suddenly appeared over his shoulder, illuminating the space, and he realized Lily had come up behind him with an oil lamp.
“I forgot that you would need this,” she said, wiggling past him to get into the room. “You can see now that there’s a window. I keep the curtains closed when I’m not in here.” She skirted the table, the ironing board, and a hip-high stack of neatly folded material so she could reach the window. She drew back the curtains. Since it was already well after dusk, the moonlight was of marginal value at best. “Well, at least you can see the window is here. It might make sense to move the table here so you can take advantage of the sunlight when you’re here during the day.”
Roen indicated the things under his arm and then pointed to the table. “May I?”
“Yes, of course. Here. Let me move these patterns out of your way.” Lily cleared half the table for him by using one arm to sweep the muslin cutouts aside. “There. And here’s the lamp that stays in this room,” she said, removing it from the ironing board and setting on the table. She opened a drawer under the table, took out a matchbox, and handed it to Roen. “I have to go back to the soup, but you look around and decide if this will suit.” Lily waited until Roen struck the match and lighted the lamp before she returned to the kitchen.
Roen watched her go. After a moment, he realized he was shaking his head and grinning rather stupidly at the same time. He sobered immediately, grateful she hadn’t been witness to it, and wondered if he was well on his way to becoming besotted.
“Does Ma know you’re in here?”
Roen gave a start at Hannah’s sudden appearance in the doorway. His hip bumped the table and the lamp’s flame flickered wildly. He steadied the table and the lamp and then moved a step away from both. “Does your mother know you sneak up on people?”
“You jumped.”
“You scared me.”
As if that had been her intent all along, her response was a short burst of laughter. “What are you doing in here?”
“Trying to decide if this will be a suitable place for me to work when I’m not out in the field.”
Hannah set her hands on either side of the door frame and leaned in. She looked around with a critical eye. “I suppose if you move the material and notions to one side, there’s enough space for you on the other. Still, there’s a lot that’s particularly female about this room.”
“Uh-huh. I noticed that right off.”
She shrugged. “I like it.”
