Searching dozens of orphanages would take days, and staying in a hotel would be expensive and impractical with a wee one.

Still—she pressed the card over her heart—she knew where she came from. Tonight she’d tell Rita Sue and write a gushing letter to Clay. They would be delighted.

“Mrs. Paxton?” Miss King leaned inside the dining room. “Time for the board meeting.”

“Thank you.” Leah tucked the postcard inside her purse. “Good-bye, boys. Check out books, and we’ll work on the reports over the weekend.”

She pushed herself to standing. If she was this large at eight months, how much larger could she get? She smoothed the cranberry gabardine over her belly, thankful the coat-like cut of the dress gave her a more professional look for when she presented her proposal. She couldn’t wait to surprise Miss King.

Leah followed the orphanage director to a room with a square table. Five ladies stood chatting, including Mrs. Channing, but sweet Mrs. Whipple from church was also present.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Miss King scarcely looked like herself in a smart navy suit, but her hair still defied bobby pins. “Please meet Mrs. Clay Paxton, our newest volunteer.”

“Well, Mrs. Paxton.” Mrs. Channing raised her chin. “You’re certainly trying to insert yourself into Tullahoma society.”

That didn’t sound like a compliment, but Leah smiled. “Tullahoma has been kind to me, and I enjoy returning the favor.”

“You sweet girl.” Mrs. Whipple took both Leah’s hands, and pretty wrinkles fanned around her gray-blue eyes. “We’re so pleased to have you.”

After the ladies fussed over Leah’s belly, they took their seats and started the meeting.

Leah could barely pay attention between her excitement over Chicago and her eagerness for her proposal. What a lovely day.

Baby Helen rolled, as if dancing for her mother’s double joy.

“Any new business?” Mrs. Channing said.

“I’d like to make a proposal.” Leah smoothed her notes and restrained her smile so she wouldn’t look childish.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” Mrs. Channing took off her reading glasses. “Go ahead.”

Leah dove in. “Since the Coffee Children’s Home is having financial woes, I’d like to propose a fund-raiser. We could hold a pancake breakfast in early summer. We could set up tables on the lawn, and the children could serve. The only rationed ingredients are a bit of oil and sugar, so we should have no trouble making the purchase. With a tasty breakfast and darling children in attendance, the people of Tullahoma will be eager to support this worthy cause.”

She looked up with a smile. However, Mrs. Channing’s eyes blazed, Mrs. Whipple frowned down into her lap, and the two other ladies wore stern expressions.

“Mrs. Paxton?” Miss King looked almost frantic. “You should have consulted me first.”

Leah’s stomach fell as far as the baby allowed. What was wrong?