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breakfast.
    “Tell me about the baby,” Julia was saying, as John stepped into the room.
    “What baby?” He only asked the question out of politeness, so why did Mrs. Adkins suddenly seem uncomfortable?
    “I have a new grandbaby. He was born just lastnight. I was hoping after I got dinner started I could go to Sally’s home to help her tend to him.”
    “She lives nearby?”
    “Yes.” Mrs. Adkins set a kettle on the stove. “He’s a dandy, but the delivery was tough. Katie had to work real hard…” She froze and the look on her face would have been comical if it had been put there under other circumstances.
    “Katie?” Was he doomed to be in that woman’s shadow even in his own home?
    “Sally’s known Katie most her life, and I knew you was busy…” Mrs. Adkins continued to work, rattling pans in an attempt to hide her answers. “It was just a baby after all.”
    But it wasn’t just a baby. It was the final straw. His own housekeeper’s daughter had gone to Katie instead of him.
    He left the kitchen, no longer interested in muffins or domestic bliss. Something had to be done, but what? He couldn’t force the people to come to him any more than he could force Katie to stop tending to them.
    Hiding in the bushes to tackle the infirmed as they sought Katie’s help was tempting, though not practical. Perhaps he could tie Katie on the end of a stick, like the proverbial carrot, and dangle her in front of the ill until they followed her to his home.
    Shaking his head, he returned to his office in hopes of finding a better solution. There was no way Katie would stay on the end of a stick, leastwise not without paying her.
    Then it hit him.
    A beautiful solution flashed in his mind, like thebrilliant light of a divine revelation. He smiled, refusing to feel guilty for his planned deception. After all, what harm could come of it? The sick would receive real medical care. Katie would be compensated financially, and as for John?
    Well…
    Perhaps he would get the chance to finally put his demons to rest.

Chapter Six
    “Do you think that’s enough taters and beans?” Grandpa asked, poking his nose over Katie’s shoulder while she added onions to the sizzling skillet.
    “It’s the same amount I always fix, why?”
    “I sort of invited someone over for supper.”
    “Sort of?” She didn’t really care about guests for supper, but a little warning would’ve been nice. “Who?”
    “Harold.”
    “Oh.” Katie added a dash of salt to the potatoes and onions, before she gave the beans a quick stir in the kettle. Mr. Crowley was an old friend of Grandpa’s, but she couldn’t remember him coming to supper before.
    “Uh, there’s something I been meanin’ to tell you—”
    “Make sure you fix plenty tonight, Katie,” Pa said, interrupting Grandpa’s confession, as he ambled his way into the kitchen. “I’ve invited some company.”
    “Who did you invite?” She hoped whoever it was didn’t eat much. Two extra guests might stretch dinner a little thin.
    “Freddie Powell.”
    Good. As skinny as Freddie was, he wouldn’t eat more than a sparrow.
    “Freddie’s a fine young man,” Pa said, hiking up his britches as he walked to the stove to taste the potatoes. “Real respectful and politelike.”
    “That’s nice,” Katie replied hesitantly. “But why did you invite him to dinner?”
    “Uh, you see—”
    “Katie?” Here came Grandma dressed in her Sunday best. “Is that what you’re wearin’ for supper?”
    Katie glanced down at her brown everyday dress and shrugged. “I always wear this dress.”
    “That’s my point. We’re having special company tonight, and I think you ought to pretty up a little.”
    Oh no. Grandma must have invited a suitor.
    Muffled voices from the front porch stopped Katie’s attempt to find out more. Pa, Grandpa, and Grandma hurried from the room, each struggling to reach the door first. She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn Grandma tripped Grandpa