“Come on, Johnnie.” Hazel grabbed his hand. “I’ll make up a story about what happens next to Oliver when we’re in bed. I think he’ll find a kitty.”
He smiled—a rare occurrence that was happening more often.
“I’ve been thinking,” Father said as he put his hands on his thighs, “I shouldn’t get that big bed all to myself anymore.”
“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” I told him.
“I can take one of the bunks upstairs. I’ll help Paddy keep an eye on things. Makes me feel like I’m worth my keep. And then you and Hazel can share the big bed. I hate that you’re sleeping on the floor and doing all this hard work during the day. I can manage those stairs. There’s no need for me to take the bed any longer.”
“Father—”
“I think it’s a good idea, too,” Sam said as he hung the towel on a drying hook near the stove. “There’s an extra bunk up there tonight, Mr. Adams. Paddy could use the help.”
“It looks like I won’t have a choice if you two gang up on me,” I said.
Father grinned. “Sam and I already talked about it.”
I glanced at Sam, and I suspected that he was trying to make my father feel like he was contributing. For that, and so many other things, I was grateful.
Sam dipped his head and said, “I have some work to do in the shed.” He left through the back door without saying another word.
I stood in the middle of the kitchen, surprised at his sudden departure, wondering at his mood.
“G-g-good night.” Paddy nodded at us and then left through the front room, leaving Father and me alone.
“I’m happy they’re both gone.” Father patted the stool next to him. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you alone, Ally.”
“I want to talk to you, too.” I sat down for the first time in hours, kneading my lower back. Working in a restaurant and hotel was the hardest work I’d ever done in my life. I still missed teaching, but feeding hundreds of miners a day gave me a sense of accomplishment that standing in a classroom or acting on a set didn’t offer.
I also liked to see Sam’s approving smile when the miners complimented my food. I’d found myself asking Mama and Julia for cooking tips in 1929, secretly hoping to impress him, though I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but myself.
“See?” He nodded at my lower back. “You should sleep in the bed now that I’m doing better. You’re too young to be in so much pain.”
I squeezed his hand, offering a smile. “It’s the least I can do, Father.”
“You’ve been so good to me, Ally.” He returned my smile and then grew serious as he glanced at the back door and lowered his voice. “I’ve been watching the way Sam looks at you.”
His words took me by surprise, and I pulled back my hand. “What do you mean?”
“He’s falling in love with you, Ally.”
“What?” I stood, shaking my head, forgetting about my lower back. “That’s preposterous.”
“I’m fifty-three years old, daughter.” Father’s blue eyes were soft as he regarded me. “I know the look of a man falling for a woman. And I know the look of a woman who is oblivious. That’s why I wanted to speak to you.” He patted the stool again.
I lowered myself onto the chair, my mind spinning with denial.
“These walls are thin, Ally,” he reminded me. “I hear your conversations in the morning, before anyone else is awake. A man doesn’t spend that much time talking a woman’s ear off if he’s not interested.”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I need to tell you what’s on my mind and heart before it’s too late,” he continued.
“Too late?” Fear tightened my voice. “You’re not feeling ill again, are you?”
“No. I mean too late if you start to fall for a man who wouldn’t be good for you.”
“Oh.” I lowered my hands into my lap. “You have nothing to fear.”
