Secret Hearts

by J. L. Jarvis

  Dusk turned to dark, as she began to master the technique of striding silently forward at a rushed pace. And then, with no warning, Jake turned around.

  She dodged into a recessed storefront doorway and cowered. Her breath caught in her throat as footsteps approached. She peered through the layers of glass. His shadow crossed the panes of the storefront display. She turned and leaned against the glass, pretended to look at the window display. She could hear him come closer. She waited, knowing she soon would be found out.

  Sinking back against the door, her breath burst forth in a sigh as she heard him retreating and walking on in his original direction. She waited until he sounded far enough away for her to emerge undetected, and then she stepped out onto the sidewalk. Maggie looked down the street just in time to see him disappear around a corner. She scurried along, brushing past anyone who got in her way. She couldn’t lose him now. Why couldn’t she? Because. Even her thoughts argued against her. Because, she chided herself, this wasn't reasonable behavior—or normal, for that matter.

  She walked past a doorway with the telltale saloon smells of stale beer and liquor, and sounds of raucous laughter and sour overtones of piano strings. A hand hooked its way around her elbow and pulled her back, nearly pulling her off balance.

  “Where’re you going in such a hurry?” A scruffy man in work clothes emerged from the shadows.

  “Not here,” said Maggie.

  “What’s your rush?” said the man with too bright a smile. He took hold of her arm and coaxed her along. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  “No!” She pulled back her arm, but he gripped it too firmly. Her panicked heart hammered.

  “You’re too pretty to be wandering around out here by yourself.” His eyes narrowed and wandered over her face while his breath brushed her skin in warm, putrid waves.

  “Then I’d better be going,” she said, sounding firm but feeling anything but.

  “What you need is a little drink to calm you down. Come on, sweetheart.”

  Maggie’s stomach sickened. She yanked her arm free. As she turned to leave, two men walked out of the saloon. They were laughing and shoving each other. One bumped into Maggie’s pursuer and knocked him off balance. She ran.

  He called after her, “I was just bein’ friendly! Highfalutin’ bitch!” His voice trailed off.

  Maggie breathed deeply to rid her nostrils of the smell of stale sweat, smoke, and whiskey. It was several blocks before she was satisfied she’d put enough distance between them to slow down. By then, she had lost track of Jake. She walked for a block more, then stopped near a streetlight and sank down on a stoop. She smoothed her skirt over her ankles and looked at her hands. They were trembling. What had she been thinking? Walking alone after dark in this part of town wasn't the sort of thing nice young ladies did. She glanced up and down the street, but there was nothing but gaslight and darkness and no sign of Jake. She couldn’t stay here. This was worse than the saloon, which at least had other people. Here there was no one to hear if she cried out—or cried. And she wanted to.

  She took a breath and stood up. With resolve, she walked down the street, trying to keep the smokestacks behind her in hopes of making it in the general direction of home. She just wanted to be in her home again, safe and alone. At the end of the block, she heard voices. She knew the sound now: another saloon—or the same one. She edged herself forward until she could see around the corner. This was not the same saloon. She exhaled quickly. Saloon patrons hung about in various states of unsteadiness, but Jake wasn't among them. The longer she stood there, the more attention she began to draw from the male passersby. She had to move forward. While this part of town wasn't familiar to Maggie, she knew well enough that this place was not only unseemly but as bad—maybe worse—than the last. Uneasiness wafted within and around her as she walked, toward nowhere in particular, just to keep moving. Ladies did not walk alone. Nice girls were escorted. It wasn't a safe thing for a young woman to do. All the things she had been taught rang in her ears.

  She stood at an intersection and looked about. The street ahead didn't look promising, but she couldn't go back. Maggie shuddered and randomly chose to turn left. How could she have allowed herself to be so absorbed with the task of following Jake that she would pay so little attention to where she was? Anyone else could have kept track and found their way back home—but not Maggie. They used to tease her about getting lost on the way to the outhouse. Here she was, lost again. She walked along, afraid to stand still for fear of being accosted again, and afraid to move forward for fear of where it would take her.

  She passed by two couples on their way home from the saloons. The women were laughing. The men looked at Maggie with sly, appreciative eyes as they walked along past her. She quickened her pace and focused her eyes straight ahead. Her eyes narrowed to a near scowl as, with each intersection, she failed to find familiar territory. She tried to cling to hope but even that failed her. She was lost, and she hated herself for her weakness. She drifted along an ever darkening street until she reached a vacant intersection.

  Maggie stood at the crossroads, looking down one way, then the other. She looked toward the mountains, hoping to get her bearings, but what the darkness didn't hide, the factory smoke obliterated. Her eyes began to sting. She tried to swallow the tightness from her throat, but a tremulous panic rose to meet it. Maggie gravitated to a nearby stoop and sank onto its steps, dropping her head onto her hands and hoping no one would see her as she surrendered to cries that were soundless but deep.

  I’m lost. I’ve lost Jake. And I’ve lost myself.

  Footsteps approached. Maggie stiffened her posture and leaned into the rail at the end of the step. She tried so to blend into the building. But the footsteps slowed down. She could make out the vague shape of a man in the darkness. He walked toward her. She got up and ran down the street. Behind her, hard gritty footsteps followed, running.

  Chapter 21

  Maggie ran. Short, percussive spurts of breath were all she could manage. Her throat ached and her chest burned with fear.

  “It is you!” A strong hand gripped her arm and pulled her to a stop. She gasped and exhaled in rapid, uneven breaths as she swung her arm at him. He caught it and bent toward her. She tried to call out, but her voice was raspy. The sound wouldn't carry.

  “Maggie, it’s me.”

  She stopped struggling but didn't trust what she’d heard. “Who?”

  “It’s me. Jake.” She flew into his arms. Unprepared, he staggered back a step, then planted his feet firmly and wrapped his arms around her. He held her and stroked her shoulders and back. “What’s happened? Maggie, you’re shaking.”

  With his strong and tender hands, he smoothed the hair and the tears from her face until her breathing grew even.

  “I got lost.”

  “We’re just a few blocks from the park.”

  “We are?”

  “Yes, darlin’.”

  She heard in the tone of his voice that he was smiling. She didn’t mind it as much as she usually did. It felt good to be in his arms.

  He stepped back and held her shoulders as though examining her in the darkness, and then he slid his hands down to hold hers. In the same tone he used with his young sister, he said, “Now, what’re you doing out here alone?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Yes.” She sounded a little defensive.

  “You could have picked a better place.”

  Maggie frowned but was too relieved to be annoyed, which would have been her usual response. It didn’t matter that she’d be in for a good teasing for this at some point in the future. All that mattered was now.

  “C’mon, let’s go home.” He held her hand while they walked.

  Maggie said nothing. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an explanation for her actions.

  They reached a streetlamp, and Jake looked over at her with a smile. “You’re a mess.” He stopped and held out his handkerch
ief. Maggie took it and lifted sheepish eyes. He just stood there, towering above her, suppressing a grin. Maggie wiped her tears and other moisture from her face, and then blew her nose, and offered it back.

  With a wry grin he refused it.

  Maggie smiled gratefully as she withdrew her hand and shoved the soggy cloth into her pocket.

  And then he asked it. “What were you thinking?”

  She knew it was coming. She still had no sensible answer. “We’ve already discussed it. I went for a walk. Would you please take me home—or at least point the way?”

  His voice was low. “Were you following me?”

  Maggie winced. “Following you?” She had tried, and tried hard, to come up with a reason—any reason—to be out in the night in this part of town. She’d never done anything close to this. Why now? She delved into the depths of her mind and came up blank. No reason. No excuse.

  She puffed herself up and said, “Isn’t that just like a man? Why couldn’t I just take a walk? Of course, if you want to think I was following you, well you can just think it. Personally, I find that a little self-centered, but—”

  “Maggie.” He gently took hold of her chin and leveled a look that was hard to avoid.

  “Oh, damn it, Jake, yes. I was following you.”

  With a shrug, he said, “I knew that you were. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

  “If you knew I was there, why didn’t you help me?”

  “Help you?”

  “When that man—outside the saloon—”

  “What man?”

  “You didn’t see?”

  “No. Did he hurt you? What happened?” Jake grabbed hold of her shoulders and looked in her eyes. His concern and his anger surprised her.

  “I’m fine now. He just got a little too friendly, that’s all.”

  Jake cursed as he pounded his thigh with his fist. “When I dropped Sophie off, you were gone. I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

  “I’m sorry you had to cut short your date.”

  Jake’s head snapped toward her. “Date?” He studied her, and his mouth turned up at one corner. “Oh, my date. No, don’t worry about it.”

  “Good. I’d hate for that to happen.” It took every bit of her effort to appear to mean that sincerely.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I just need to go home and nurse my wounds.” She’d crossed her arms, and was unconsciously rubbing the one that had been grabbed.

  “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? Let me take a look.” He lifted her wrist and began to unbutton her cuff to examine her arm.

  She watched him for only a short, breathless moment, then withdrew her hand and buttoned her cuff. “I’m fine now.”

  Jake searched her eyes until she smiled.

  Maggie said, “Really, I’m fine. He just wanted me to join him for a drink. He was a little too enthusiastic is all.”

  Jake lifted an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed.

  Maggie went on, “I was lost and a little afraid.”

  “For good reason. I should have stopped you as soon as I saw you.”

  She cast her eyes downward and imagined him doing just that. In front of Sophie, the humiliation would have been unbearable. Of course, the present moment wasn't all that bearable, either.

  He looked at her, puzzled, then his face relaxed into a look that made Maggie melt from the warmth. “Why, Maggie?”

  Here it was—worse than what. He wanted an explanation, and he wouldn't give up until he had it. She knew him too well. That didn’t make her want to give one, but she was so weary. “I thought…” Maggie stopped. She took a fortifying breath. “If I could see you and Sophie together…” She cursed herself, and said it quickly to get it out and be done with it. “If I saw you together, it might make me not care.” And it would etch in my memory the proof that you weren’t mine anymore. That was over. Now, if she could just be excused to go vomit.

  “Me and Sophie?”

  “Sophie and I,” she corrected reflexively. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out.”

  Jake’s eyes flashed with annoyance.

  He hated to be reminded of his educational shortcomings. Maggie knew that. If only she could kick herself with her own knee jerk reaction.

  Jake said, “Let me understand this. You followed me just to see Sophie and I?”

  “Me. And, yes, I did.”

  “Because—”

  “Jake, don’t be cruel. If you can’t figure out—”

  “—You were jealous.”

  “Well, I’d hardly put it that way, exactly…”

  Jake’s lips widened into a near grin. “But…”

  “But what? Can we please go home now?”

  “As soon as you admit it.”

  “Admit?”

  “That you were jealous.”

  Maggie couldn't bring herself to speak it. Pride kept her from saying what both of them knew. Her heart felt exposed, and it stung. She longed for him to hide her in his embrace. But she couldn't let go and admit that she loved him. Loved him?

  Maggie didn't appreciate the smile on Jake’s face. He was enjoying this. Seeing her reduced to desperate acts—for him. He not only enjoyed it, he savored each uncomfortable moment. He had all the power, and she was helpless to stop him. She wanted to go someplace safe where she could rebuild her defenses that now lay in shambles about her.

  Jake shifted his weight and started to reach for her hand but let his arm drop to his side. Who could blame him when so many times she had pushed him away? Maggie’s heart sank. At least Jake would see her safely home. She knew that much. It would have to be enough for now. Tomorrow she would try to get through one more day.

  Her plea was low and void of expression. “Now would you please take me home?” She looked into eyes dark as coal.

  He said, “Did you think had lost me?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “I’m here.”

  Maggie nodded. It wasn’t enough.

  With a look that could melt, he said, “Maggie, I’ll be here.”

  She lifted her eyes to meet his but couldn't see through her tears.

  Jake offered his hand in as gentlemanly a gesture as she ever had seen. This looks like friendship, she cautioned herself. She took his arm. He turned to take a step, but Maggie stopped him with gentle tug to his arm. He looked back.

  She said, “I don’t deserve you.”

  “I know that, darlin’,” he said with a wink.

  Maggie looked down and nodded, as her throat contracted. Tears were filling her eyes and she could do nothing to stop them from spilling. “I’ve been a fool.” The night was so quiet. “Jake?”

  “What?”

  “This is where you’re supposed to contradict me.”

  He grinned and said, “I know.”

  With too broad a smile, Jake touched her chin and lifted her face until she had nowhere to look but into his eyes. He just shook his head pityingly, then put his arm over her shoulder and said, “Let’s go home, Maggie, darlin’.”

  They arrived in front of Maggie’s house and he hugged her. Beneath the crumpled cotton fabric of his shirt, she could feel his heartbeat. He lifted her chin toward his as though he might kiss her. Instead, he looked at her with that slightly amused expression of his, but this time there was something more in it. She couldn't read his expression. Jake was quiet. Through Maggie’s mind, every possible feeling he might have flashed through her mind, until she could no longer imagine or guess at the truth.

  He took pity on her and said, “I know this is hard for you, darlin’, so I’ll let you off easy. You don’t have to say anything more—”

  Her shoulders relaxed.

  “—much, except that you love me.” He put his rough hands on her face and his own face lost its mirth. His dark eyes were ablaze as he leaned closer and said, “Maggie, say that you do, because I can’t remember not loving you.”

  If she hadn’t fallen already, she would have
right then. “I do.”

  He leaned so close that his lips brushed against hers. “You do…what?”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  His voice came out in a gravelly whisper. “Maggie—”

  His warm breath stirred her. She breathed in his scent. His lips touched hers and parted. She melted into his embrace, touched her palms to his broad back and shoulders and thrilled at each sinew. Their kiss deepened, the taste of him thrilled her. Their bodies molded together. Jake pressed his body against hers, then took a breath and pulled back.

  He shook his head and stared with dark and fiery eyes as he gulped the night air, hoping it would clear his head. “You’d better go inside.” Then he circled his arms about her and kissed her again. Abruptly, he stopped and said, “Goodnight, my Maggie.”

  With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he turned her about by the shoulders and sent her up the walk to her house. Maggie reached the steps and turned back. He was standing and watching. She ran to him, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him again. “I love you!” she whispered, then ran up the walk and disappeared into the house.

  Beneath the dim moonlight, Samuel and Allison sat on the porch steps and watched the gentle ripple of the lake water, too lost in muted conversation to hear the floor creak behind them. With a hushed farewell, Samuel left.

  Allison still smiled with the warmth of his presence as she stood to go inside to bed. She turned and gasped. Powell stood silently watching through the screen door.

  “Powell! You scared me! How long have you—?”

  Allison hesitated. Powell blocked the doorway, and made no effort to move.

  “Sit with me for a spell,” he said as he opened the door and stepped toward her.