Beside him, Emma Jane let out a sigh, one so soft it was barely discernible. A quick glance in her direction made the breath in his throat catch. The longing in her eyes was unmistakable.
He’d been the recipient of many a wistful glance in his day. But this was not the look of a woman in love. Rather, he immediately recognized it to be something else. Emma Jane wanted the same thing he did—to have the same kind of love Will and Mary shared.
They might want the same thing, but unfortunately, neither was going to get it from the other.
* * *
“Did you see how fast Jasper scrambled up the roof to get away from Emma Jane?”
The familiar twitter of Flora’s voice burned Emma Jane’s ears.
Oh, she knew Flora was just trying to make trouble, but what was the point in causing problems for a woman who was already married? It wasn’t as though Jasper was going to wake up one morning, realize it had all been a terrible mistake, divorce Emma Jane and marry Flora.
But Flora didn’t seem to understand that.
“I heard from Jasper’s mother that they aren’t even sharing a bedroom,” Flora’s companion said in a whisper too loud to be surreptitious.
“Of course not.” Flora cackled, her voice carrying in Emma Jane’s direction, almost as though she’d turned in Emma Jane’s direction as she spoke.
But Emma Jane didn’t look up from the shirt she was mending. As women of the night, none of the women in the barn owned anything proper, even if it hadn’t all burned up in the fire. Church members had donated what they could, and she, along with others, worked to make them fit.
She held up the shirt to the light, examining her handiwork. In that, no one would find fault. Her stitches were tiny and even.
“I hope you’re not thinking of taking that for yourself,” Flora said, dropping a pile of clothes in front of her. “It is last season, but I’m sure it’s finer than anything you’ve ever owned.”
Emma Jane’s face heated. Her throat constricted, preventing her from saying anything as she put the shirt into the pile of clothes she’d finished mending.
“Then again, you’re used to cast offs, aren’t you? I believe many of your school dresses came from the church, didn’t they? I’m sure I’ve even seen you wearing one or two of mine.”
She tossed her golden curls and looked down her nose at Emma Jane. “You’re so fortunate that Mother insists I always wear the latest fashions. My clothes are always in perfect condition when we donate them, since I never wear them but more than a few times.”
Flora turned to her companion and laughed in that high-pitched, fake way of hers.
“It is such a chore being fashionable.”
As the other girl turned more into the light, Emma Jane recognized her. Sarah Crowley, who had often vied with Flora for Jasper’s attention. Apparently, nothing united two rivals like a common enemy. Her.
“It’s also a chore doing penance for so many of your crimes against humanity.”
Emma Jane swiveled at the sound of Polly MacDonald’s voice.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you sleep at night.” Polly glared at the other two women. “You should be ashamed of yourself for the way you’re talking about Emma Jane.”
Polly picked up the pile of clothes Emma Jane had been mending. “You did a fine job, Emma Jane. Sarah might need a lace machine to make such beautiful trim, but I declare this cuff is exquisite.”
She held up one of the gowns Emma Jane had repaired.
“The old lace was torn too badly to fix, and it seemed wrong not to have lace on that dress. So I improvised.”
Improvising was something Emma Jane had to be good at. Flora was right in that a lot of her clothes had been cast offs. Unfortunately, that meant clothes from girls who were taller, shorter, fatter and thinner than she was.
“And that is why Flora is so nasty to you.” Polly glared at the other girl. “She knows that you’re far cleverer than she is, and that rankles. You always got better marks in school, and every one of us was green with envy at all the times you were chosen as an example of excellence.”
Flora snorted.
Then Polly leaned in toward the other girl. “Now that Emma Jane is married to Jasper, you’re even more jealous. I saw how you tried to get him to kiss you at the church picnic. Even though you told everyone he stole a kiss, I saw him spurn you.”
The image of Jasper sitting in the mine came back to Emma Jane. He’d looked so anguished at the mention of his romance with Flora. Everyone, including Emma Jane, had assumed they were a couple. Jasper had denied it, but everyone had heard Flora’s bold declarations of stolen kisses.
Maybe Jasper deserved a little more credit than Emma Jane had been giving him.
Sarah nudged Flora. “Is that true?”
“Of course it’s not. She’s just making up lies to make that creature feel better.”
“That creature is Mrs. Jasper Jackson,” Polly declared hotly. “And she’s a good woman, far more virtuous than the likes of you.”
Flora tossed her head. “As if you’d know anything about womanly virtue. I don’t know why you’re taking up for her, but I’m sure when word gets out, your already meager invitations will dwindle down to nothing.”
Polly looked down at Emma Jane. “As long as I’m on Emma Jane’s invitation list, I couldn’t care less.”
Emma Jane closed her eyes and swallowed, willing herself to speak. Why, oh, why, could she never speak up against bullies? But Polly was speaking up for her, and she deserved Emma Jane’s support.
She smiled weakly up at Polly. “Of course. You’re always welcome in my home...”
“We’ll see what the real Mrs. Jackson has to say about that.” Flora turned on her heel and walked away, Sarah trailing behind her.
The real Mrs. Jackson. That was the real problem, wasn’t it? Jasper’s mother refused to accept Emma Jane, and based on what the gossips were saying, everyone knew it.
Polly shifted her weight. “I, um...I should probably apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“For not taking up for you before. Even at the church picnic, when Mary stood up for you, I told her she was crazy for supporting you. I think we were all too afraid of Flora’s pernicious tongue to do anything.” Tears filled Polly’s eyes. “The truth is, we’ve all been victims of Flora’s treachery, and we weren’t brave enough to defend ourselves. I think everyone was just relieved that she’d found you to pick on and was leaving us be.”
Emma Jane’s heart constricted. The pain she’d been suffering all these years...her own eyes filled with tears.
“I was so caught up in what she was doing to me, I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t alone,” she said, more to herself than to Polly.
Would things have been different had Emma Jane reached out? Had she looked around at the other girls in her class and at church? Could Emma Jane have seen that she wasn’t the only one suffering?
“We all should have stood up to her a long time ago, and again, I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to do so on your behalf.”
“I should have stood up for myself,” Emma Jane whispered, knowing that, even now, she wasn’t sure she had the courage.
Polly sighed. “None of us did, either. We all went along with whatever she wanted us to do, knowing that if we displeased her, we’d face her wrath.”
“How does one person get so much power?”
Tears streamed down Emma Jane’s face, not just for all the abuses she suffered at Flora’s hands, but also for the pain streaked across Polly’s face.
“What’s going on here?” Jasper came up behind Polly, his brow furrowed. “Why are you crying?”
Emma Jane swiped at her face with her sleeve before remembering that she had a handkerchief. There hadn’t been money for
such finery in her home, but when she’d married Jasper, Mary had given her several with her initials. Where she’d found the time to embroider them, Emma Jane didn’t know, but that small gift meant the world to her.
As Emma Jane used her handkerchief, Polly said glumly, “We had a run-in with Flora.”
“Polly was good enough to stand up for me, but I’m afraid it only incensed her more.”
Jasper’s scowl deepened. “I wish I’d never paid a lick of attention to her. I know her father is my father’s best friend, but the longer I know her, the more I wish I’d never courted her, even if it made my parents happy.”
More of the bitterness she’d seen from Jasper made sense. And, as Emma Jane replayed the times she’d seen Jasper with Flora at local assemblies, she now understood his detachment.
Then Jasper looked down at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’m sorry she’s still being cruel to you, Emma Jane. I’ve wished a thousand times that I’d paid more attention and done more to make her stop tormenting you.”
Actually, Jasper had done a lot more than most in stopping Flora’s nastiness. Whenever Flora had picked on her in front of Jasper, he had always chastised her. In fact, the more Emma Jane thought about it, the more she realized that any time someone gossiped or said a cross word about someone in front of Jasper, he was always quick to quiet the talk.
As much as Emma Jane had said she didn’t really know him, she was finding that she knew him quite well, after all. The more she realized the finer points of Jasper’s character, the more grateful she was indeed that he’d married her.
“It’s all right,” Emma Jane told him softly. “As I recall, you’ve always stopped any talk that you’ve heard.”
“For all the good it’s done.” Jasper sighed, then gazed at her with what seemed to be real compassion. “Look, I know I seemed harsh yesterday when we talked about how much the talk bothers you. But I’ve had to deal with it my whole life. I do my best to stop people when they’re gossiping about others, but they just keep right on when my back is turned.”
He glanced in the direction of Flora, who’d been joined by a few more of her cronies. “My reputation as a playboy is not undeserved. But a lot of the stories about me are either grossly exaggerated, or simply untrue.”
Then he looked back at Emma Jane. “I apologize for any of that talk as it applies to you. I regret kissing every single one of those girls, and I truly regret the way it makes everyone look sideways at you.”
Emma Jane hadn’t realized that Jasper, too, might have been the victim of malicious gossip. And even though his admission of kissing other girls would lower his value in some people’s eyes, it gave her even more hope for their relationship. Jasper was the kind of man to admit to his mistakes.
Of course, his admission also pointed out one glaring fact about their relationship. Not once had Jasper even tried to kiss her. Sometimes she thought she had a memory of a kiss while they were in the mine, shortly before the rockslide hit. But Emma Jane knew it was mere foolishness. If such a kiss had happened, why hadn’t Jasper mentioned it? And if it was as good of a kiss as had been in her dreams, why hadn’t he repeated it?
No, kissing Jasper had only happened in her imagination.
Clearly, if the man liked to kiss as much as his reputation claimed, and even in his own admission, his failure to kiss his wife meant only one thing.
He had absolutely no interest in Emma Jane.
Chapter Seven
The trouble with Jasper’s sweet apology was that when he excused himself a few moments later, Emma Jane found it hard to refuse. Building a bridge between her and her husband wasn’t going to happen in a single afternoon. Polly, too, had left her, needing to check in with her mother and catch up on her duties at home.
Emma Jane looked around for Nancy. She hadn’t realized that having Jasper talk to her friend would put her in a bad position. Even though Emma Jane wanted Nancy to do the right thing, she knew all too well the difficulty in standing up to bullies. What Nancy needed most of all, what had helped Emma Jane, was having a real friend.
She spied Jasper, huddled in a corner with Will. After catching his eye, she gave him a quick wave, and he nodded at her. A simple acknowledgment, but in some ways, it marked a step in a positive direction for their relationship. How many times had Emma Jane waved at him in the past only to have him not notice her?
Warmth filling her heart, Emma Jane went into the stable area, where she knew Nancy liked to spend time. They’d discovered a mama cat and her kittens a few days ago, and knowing Nancy, she was probably checking on them.
The stable was quiet, deserted. No Nancy, but at least Emma Jane could check on the kittens and read a little in her Bible. She was grateful for the small book Pastor Lassiter had given them as a wedding gift. It was perfect for carrying around, and it gave her the opportunity to read to some of the women here in the barn. Though some objected to hearing about religion all the time, Emma Jane noticed how many appreciated the comforting words of the Psalms. She slipped into the stall where the cat had made a place for her little family to sleep. Mama cat was gone, probably in search of food. The soft straw she and Nancy had found to give the cats a comfortable bed would make a nice place to sit and read.
She pulled out her Bible and opened it to the Twenty-third Psalm. A well-worn page, but all the women seemed to come nearer when she read it. Just like Emma Jane, they were all probably in their own private valleys of the shadow of death. Everything in their lives had changed overnight, and many of them had no idea what would happen next. Only the solace of the Lord would get them through. One of the kittens mewed, and she looked to see it had fallen and was stuck in the hay. Just as she reached for it, one of the barn doors banged open.
“I saw you talking to the law, Nancy.”
“I didn’t tell them nothin’, Ray. You know better than that. Haven’t I kept all of your secrets? I’ve given you an alibi plenty of times, so you needn’t fear me.”
“What about that wife of his? You two seem awfully cozy to me. Betty said you’ve been spending a lot of time with that woman.”
Emma Jane shrank against the walls of the stall. Nancy had warned her that their friendship might cause trouble for her. Had looked fearful when Jasper had tried speaking to her. A shiver coursed down Emma Jane’s spine. Had she needlessly put her friend in danger in hopes of winning over her husband?
“So I listen to some do-gooder read me Bible stories. What’s it to you? I’m just biding my time until a place at the Silver King Saloon opens up. If that means letting some poor woman think she’s doing a charitable deed, it doesn’t hurt a soul.”
Some do-gooder? Poor woman? Emma Jane’s heart sank as Nancy so callously denied their friendship.
But Nancy had been the one to ask Emma Jane to read from her Bible, and as Emma Jane recalled, she’d told her that she’d turned down the opportunity to work at the Silver King Saloon.
What was going on?
The voices came closer.
Emma Jane could see Nancy clearly now, as the young woman was nearly even with the stall door. Nancy glanced over, barely looking at Emma Jane, but she understood as Nancy closed the door. She was trying to protect Emma Jane.
“Well, I don’t like it.” Ray stepped in toward Nancy, so close their faces were almost touching. “That posse last night got a little too close for my liking, and I’m thinking we have a traitor in our midst.”
“It’s not me.” Nancy started to move away from the stall, but Ray grabbed her arm.
“Betty says...”
“Maybe you ought to be asking Betty what she’s saying to that deputy she’s had as a customer all these months,” Nancy said.
Ray snorted. “Who do you think our inside man is?”
Jasper had told Emma Jane he suspected the bandits had someone in the sheriff
’s office working for them. Now she could confirm his suspicions. It felt good to know that she’d be able to help him and keep her promise to stay out of the case. After all, she would be doing exactly as he’d asked—reporting back to him on what she heard.
As much as she wanted to jump in and tell Ray that Nancy was telling the truth, that she hadn’t told Emma Jane or Jasper anything, she remembered Nancy’s warning about how dangerous these people were.
Nancy, though, didn’t appear to be afraid. She lifted her chin and looked Ray in the eye. “Well, maybe he’s working both sides. Wouldn’t be the first time, you and I both know that.”
Emma Jane heard a strange clicking sound.
“I know it all too well. Which is why I’m getting rid of any leaks.”
“You can’t think...” Nancy’s face crumpled as she took a step back. “I would never...”
“I don’t think. I know.”
A gunshot rang out, and then a thud. Emma Jane squeezed her eyes shut. The image of what had happened burned against her eyelids. Even if she scrubbed with the strongest lye, nothing could ever remove the memory of Nancy’s last moments.
The kitten she held in her arms mewed.
“Who’s there?”
Emma Jane let the kitten go, encouraging it to scamper in the direction of the man who’d just killed Nancy. He wouldn’t harm a kitten, but if he looked in the stall, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate in killing her.
The kitten cooperated, but the man didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he kicked open the door to the stall next to her.
Emma Jane’s heart thudded against her chest.
He would search her stall next.
Maybe if he thought she slept through the whole thing, and hadn’t heard anything, he’d leave her alone. But if he knew she’d been conscious, he’d kill her for sure.
She curled up in a ball, arranging the straw around her, like she’d been using it as a makeshift bed, closed her eyes and prayed.
Shotgun Marriage (Leadville, Co. Book 3) Page 8