Legacy of Love. Christine Johnson
and off her feet. If she must go somewhere, use a crutch to keep all weight off the leg. No work or housework for at least a month.”
“A month?” Anna gasped. They had to move in only twelve days. How would she manage on her own? She gnawed her fingernails. Hendrick and Peter would have to help.
“It’s a good thing your house is single-story,” the doctor said. “I don’t want your mother climbing stairs.”
But Terchie’s Boardinghouse only had upstairs rooms. How could they move there if Ma couldn’t climb stairs?
“I’ve given her a sedative,” Doc Stevens continued. “If the pain gets worse, I’ll prescribe tincture of opium. Call if she develops a fever or if the swelling doesn’t go down in a few days.”
After thanking him and sending Peter back to the garage, Anna looked in on her mother, who had fallen asleep, and was surprised to find Brandon in the room. He’d closed the drapes and tucked a pillow beneath Ma’s head. Anna’s throat constricted. Why was he being so nice? Guilt? That must be it. After all, he was the one who’d precipitated all of this with his impossible offer.
He rose and walked softly from the room, joining her at the front entry.
“You stayed.” She whispered the words as an accusation, but part of her was also glad. How could this man both tempt and frustrate her at the same time?
Sadness swept across his features, and he gazed far beyond her into the distant past. “My mother died when I was younger than you. I know how frightening it can be to think you might lose a parent.” He swallowed and returned to the present. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
Her wall of anger cracked. He did know how she felt. In fact, he’d suffered more, for both his mother and father were gone. She’d called him insensitive but she was the one who hadn’t given him a chance.
“No, I’m sorry.” She nipped her lip to stem the sudden swell of emotion. “I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly. You meant well by offering us your apartment.”
His gaze dropped again. “The fault is mine. I should have realized the offer would insult you.”
She shook her head. “I was acting childishly, thinking only of myself.” A little sob escaped. “I should have considered Ma. She wants to stay in the carriage house. She believes God ordained it.”
He stiffened slightly. “I doubt divine intervention, but the offer still stands.”
“But Ma can’t work, and I won’t accept charity.”
“I know.” The faintest smile briefly lifted his lips. “Perhaps you would be willing to clean until she recovers.”
Anna shook her head. “It’s not proper.”
“I’ve been considering that. There’s an old wheelchair in the attic. Perhaps if your mother came to the house with you...”
Anna paused, trying to regain control of her senses. His plan made sense, but he stood too close, the raw scent of him muddling her mind. She stepped back and was relieved when he didn’t follow. At this moment, she needed to think clearly.
Ma had to live somewhere without stairs. The carriage house was a single-story building. It didn’t have any stairs. Presumably the house could also be entered without climbing steps or he wouldn’t have suggested Ma supervise from the wheelchair. She had to put her mother’s needs first.
“You said you required housekeeping just two or three days a week?”
He nodded. “And prepare breakfast and supper.”
That wasn’t part of the original agreement, but she couldn’t quibble over details when Ma needed a warm single-story place to live. He’d regret that addition when he tasted her cooking. “Then thank you. I accept.”
For a month. Then she and Ma would move as far as possible from the man who sent her nerves fluttering every time he drew near.
Chapter Four
“It’s perfect,” Ma exclaimed as Brandon pushed her wheelchair into the tiny carriage-house apartment.
Anna could think of many other ways to describe the cramped rooms. Musty, cool and damp came readily to mind, but for Ma’s sake she held her tongue and walked into the sitting room. Two windows faced the house. Under one sat a small wooden table and chairs.
She pushed open the dusty curtain and a cobweb drifted onto her face. She swatted away the sticky threads. If this apartment was any indication, she’d be working full-time getting the house in order.
“It is lovely.” Ma patted Brandon’s hand. “Thank you for the use of the wheelchair. I can manage from here.”
“Not on my watch, ma’am.” Brandon hastened to help Ma out of the cane wheelchair and into one of the two armchairs by the fireplace. A cloud of dust motes rose when she sat.
“Here’s a cane to help you get around.” Brandon placed a stout walnut cane against the side of the chair, within ready reach should Ma need to walk. “I apologize again for the privy.”
Ma waved a hand. “I’ve used privies and chamber pots my entire life.”
“Still, with your injury,” he murmured, “it’s an inconvenience. Please consider staying in the house. It has indoor plumbing.”
“I’ll be just fine.” Ma clucked her tongue softly. “This is so cozy. We’re looking forward to settling in here, aren’t we, Anna?”
Anna poked at the embers in the fireplace and added another log. “Is this the only source of heat?”
Brandon looked pained. “There are only the two rooms. The fire should be sufficient to heat both.”
“Of course it will,” Ma seconded.
“Too bad there’s not a kitchen,” Anna said.
Brandon cleared his throat. “This apartment was built at the same time as the house, in the 1840s. No one thought to put a kitchen in an apartment in those days.”
Probably because the apartment was intended for servants. Anna pushed the bedroom door open. This room was even smaller than the sitting room, with the back left corner walled off into a closet. She stepped around the bed that she and Ma would have to share and opened the closet door. None of the rooms had electrical lighting. That made it difficult to see the small iron sink in the back corner. It had a pump to draw water. She tested the squeaky handle and with a few pumps cold, clear water gushed into the sink. Across from the sink, a rack had been nailed to the wall. Perhaps ten or twelve garments could be squeezed onto it.
“I hope it will suffice.” Brandon stood anxiously between the bed and the heavy chest of drawers. “I wish I could fit two beds into the room, but the man I hired to open up the place assured me the space was too small.”
“Yet someone added a sink.”
He nervously swiped at his face. “Sometime before the turn of the century. It was probably the height of luxury at the time.”
Anna couldn’t do more than nod at his attempted levity. She rubbed her arms. “It’s cold in here. I hope the pipe doesn’t freeze.”
Brandon reached around her and pushed the closet door completely open. The brush of his arm sent an unbidden yet pleasant sensation down her back.
“If it does,” he said, “let me know. I’ll hire someone to fix it. In fact, if anything breaks or doesn’t work—any problem at all—tell me.”
Though she kept her gaze locked on the clothes rack, she could feel him near.
He tipped her chin so she looked up into those stormy gray eyes. “I mean it, Anna. If you need anything, tell me. Anything at all.”
His touch stole her breath. They were alone. Ma faced