by Kit Morgan
She stopped. Why did her conscience have to speak up now? She sighed heavily. “It’s for the best.”
No, it’s not. What about Emma?
She closed her eyes in resignation. Her conscience did have a point. “Emma. How could I have forgotten about Emma?” Easy enough to do when her heart was breaking, she supposed. But she’d taken on the task of searching for Jack’s sister, and she needed to see it through. Even if that meant being around Jack more than she liked.
But did she really have to? Hmmm … maybe she could avoid him somehow. Then she wouldn’t run the risk of falling for him anymore than she had. She sat on the floor and leaned against the bed. How had she fallen for him in the first place? This wasn’t the Jack she knew, the man she’d loved since she was in pigtails. Her Jack was happy, strong, intelligent, handsome.
This Jack was still strong, intelligent and handsome (when he wasn’t scowling at her), but also bitter, angry and cynical. Yet … he hadn’t been as bad of late as when she’d first arrived in Cutter’s Creek. There was at times an innocence in his eyes, as if something new had been born deep within him.
And he’d come to depend on her for things – nothing he couldn’t do himself, necessarily, but she enjoyed doing things for him, giving to him, even something as simple as bringing him a cup of coffee. In short, she loved serving him. It gave her a satisfaction she couldn’t explain. She liked taking care of Jack.
Willow sighed again. But he didn’t want her, and seemingly never would. Jack Carlson would never want anyone. In his eyes, Jack was all Jack needed. The stubborn …
She got up off the floor, satchel in hand. She’d go to the mercantile, check the mail and pray there was word from Mr. Dixon about Emma. Then maybe she’d have something to work with. Once Jack had word about his sister, he’d latch onto that like a drowning man to a spar. Then she’d be nothing more than an afterthought, and free to go.
She opened her satchel and stared at the empty bag. For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to put anything in it just yet. Best go check the post first. She grabbed her shawl off the back of a chair, wrapped it around her shoulders and headed downstairs.
There was no sign of Jack or Howard – they must have gone to the church to work. She glimpsed Mary in the kitchen, bent over the stove, and swallowed back tears. In a few days she might be leaving the house again, only that time for good.
Willow wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and hurried out the door.
10
Once outside, Willow breathed in the fresh June air. It was hard to believe she’d been there well over a month already. Where had the time gone? But time had been her friend during these last weeks. She’d had enough of it to get to know Jack again – get to know him as the man he was now, not who he’d once been.
In fact, she realized, she’d never really known him in the first place. Her memories were of a boy, not a man. Besides, the man she’d conjured up in her head was a far cry from the one she saw and worked with every day. This new Jack, though sometimes bitter and cranky, was emerging as something different and new – a man who would know compassion and, in time, grace.
She smiled as she walked. “Beauty out of ashes,” she quoted. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “And he is beautiful …” She stopped dead in her tracks at the admission. “Oh merciful heavens … how can I leave him?”
Her heart sank into her stomach. Because he doesn’t reciprocate your love, that’s why. Which was true enough. Jack wasn’t ready to love anyone, it seemed. Except perhaps, Emma.
Willow walked on.
When she finally made it to the mercantile she was surprised at the looks she received. But then, she hadn’t been here for weeks, and then just once with Mary, when she mailed the letter to Mr. Dixon concerning Emma. At the time there was no one else around, only the two of them and the storekeeper. She hadn’t attended too many Sunday services either – she’d been too busy with Jack. Mary had suggested she sit with him while she and Howard …
Willow’s eyes widened. While they took care of the service … oh no. “These people must think Jack and I are married,” she whispered to herself. “What am I going to tell them?”
There was no time to contemplate an answer. A woman came out of the mercantile – Mrs. Petroff, if Willow remembered right. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Carlson!” the woman greeted.
Oh, lovely. It was just as she feared. “Good afternoon.”
“We haven’t seen much of you around town since you arrived, but then I’m sure your husband takes up a lot of your time.”
“Yes, he’s been learning Braille.” Tell her! she screamed to herself silently. Just do it! Besides, it will explain you leaving … “You should probably know, Jack and I … that is, Mr. Carlson … we’re not married.”
Mrs. Petroff’s eyebrows shot to the sky. “No? Oh … I had no idea.” She looked Willow up and down. “Well, in Heaven’s name, child, why not? What’s the matter with that man, other than the obvious? Perhaps if he wasn’t blind, he’d see what a beauty you are!”
Willow wasn’t sure how to answer that, other than: “We just wanted to take the time to … to see if we’d suit.”
“Oh well, of course you would. That’s very gracious of you, considering his condition. Do you plan on staying, then?”
“We’re … still deciding.”
Mrs. Petroff leaned toward her. “Take my advice, dear. Don’t let him push you into something you don’t think you can handle. He’s got to be a chore.”
Willow thought a moment. “Not really. He gets better every day.”
Mrs. Petroff smiled. “Well, that’s nice to hear. You’ll let us all know when the wedding is, won’t you?”
“I … I’m not sure about anything yet,” she stammered.
Mrs. Petroff studied her. “I think you are,” she said with a wink. “You have a nice day and give my best to Rev. Latsch and Mary!” She bounced down the mercantile steps and into the street, quite a feat given the woman’s age.
Willow stared after her in wonderment, and not just because of her exit. That wasn’t the reaction she thought she’d get – she was sure hellfire and brimstone would be the order of the day. But no, the woman had been very understanding. She certainly hoped the rest of the townspeople felt the same way.
She entered the mercantile and went to the counter. “Hello?”
The storekeeper popped up from behind it, making her jump. “Howdy there! Hey, haven’t seen you in a long time! The missus was wondering when you’d come in.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow said, “but what was your name again?”
“Jasper Smith, ma’am. My wife is Abigail. Don’t you remember?”
Willow leaned against the counter. “I’m terribly sorry – I’m usually very good with names …”
“Think nothing of it. We all know what a task you’ve had since you arrived. Jack can’t be easy to … I mean …”
“To work with?”
“I was gonna say ‘be married to’.”
Here we go again, she thought. “Actually, Mr. Smith, I’ve been assisting Jack – helping him get back on his feet, you might say. It’s been a very good way to get to know him better before …”
“Before you get hitched? Well now, that’s a mighty fine idea!”
Willow started at the remark. “You think so?”
“Of course! No wonder we ain’t seen much of you since you got here. Everyone knows that Jack Carlson is … well …”
“Hard to deal with? Yes, he can be.”
Jasper had the decency to blush. “Sorry, Miss Bennett. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Willow smiled. “I’m glad you remembered my name.”
“I make it a point to remember everyone that comes in here,” Jasper said with pride. “Even if it’s only once.”
Now it was Willow’s turn to blush. “I’m sorry I forgot yours.”
“Like I said, think nothing of it. Though that invitation from the missus is still there if you’re
interested. Abigail would love to visit with you one day.”
Willow smiled again. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. But she couldn’t promise anything – she wasn’t sure she’d be around. The thought of leaving still nagged at her.
“Oh, almost forgot to ask,” Jasper continued. “What can I get for you?”
Willow shook herself out of her musings. “I wondered if there was any mail for me to pick up?”
“Not sure, I haven’t sorted it yet. Let me check.” He went to the end of the counter where the mailbag sat, opened it up, dumped it out and began to sift through it.
Willow studied the mercantile while she waited. The place was small, at least in comparison to what she was used to. Dover was quite a city compared to Cutter’s Creek. In fact, compared to most cities on the East Coast, the tiny town was nothing but a speck. Yet she’d still managed to hide herself away in it. Howard and Mary’s home had become like an island of refuge.
The only thing was, she’d been stuck on that island with one of the most unreasonable and stubborn men she’d ever known. But in truth he was becoming more, much more. Shouldn’t she risk staying to see him become the man God intended? But was she willing to wager her heart on it?
“I’m afraid there’s nothing. Why don’t you check back in a few days when the stage brings the mail again?”
“Thank you, I’ll do that.” She turned to leave.
“Do you need anything else?”
A ticket to Seattle, she thought. But instead of saying it, Willow squared her shoulders. “No, nothing, thank you.” She left before the cowardly side of her had its way.
Back at the house, Jack was sitting in the parlor. There was no sign of Mary or Howard. “Where have you been?” he asked tersely as she entered the house.
She turned to him after closing the door. “I went to the mercantile to see if there was any word from Mr. Dixon.”
“And?”
“Not yet.”
“You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”
She removed her shawl, hung it on a coat tree and went into the parlor. “Why not?”
“It’s dangerous.”
Willow had to shake herself. “Dangerous? Cutter’s Creek?”
“Anywhere can hold danger, Willow. Don’t go out alone again. Take me with you.”
She stood in stunned silence for a moment. Had he been worried about her? “All right, I will.”
He visibly relaxed. “Good.”
He was worried about her! Willow smiled, then quickly pressed her lips together to keep any giggles from erupting.
“What?” he snapped.
She shrugged, her smile broadening. “Nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, well, at the wall behind her anyway. “No, something. What is it?”
A lot of things, actually, but I can’t tell you any of them, she mused silently. Then she realized she couldn’t let Jack escort her into town. He had no idea she’d come here to be his mail-order bride! She could only imagine what would happen if they ran into Mrs. Petroff! “Oh dear …”
“Oh dear what?”
Willow paled. “Oh dear, I need some tea. How about you?” She hoped that would satisfy him as she turned on her heel and fled for the kitchen before he could say another word.
There was already a kettle on the stove. Good. She gathered what she needed, prepared a pot, put it on a tray along with cups, saucers, sugar and cream and returned to the parlor.
“What took you so long?” Jack asked.
Now it was Willow’s turn to narrow her eyes. She just wished he could see her do it. “For your information, the water was already hot. I’d say I got back here in record time. Stop your complaining.”
“I wasn’t complaining. I was concerned.”
Willow poured him a cup of tea. “About what? Bandits in the kitchen?”
“No … that you didn’t want to sit with me.”
She stared at him, this time glad he couldn’t see her face. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m not the best of company at times. I’m blind, yes, but I’m not stupid.” He laughed at his joke.
“You silly man,” she said before she too laughed. “I’ve been with you every day since I got here.”
“Yes – and I’ve enjoyed your company.”
Willow blushed. “Well, that’s good to hear. I’ve enjoyed yours too … most of the time, anyway.” She touched his hands, then placed them around the cup and saucer. “Careful,” she said, her voice softer. “It’s hot.”
He smiled, nodded and sat back before taking a small sip. “I could use something sweet.”
Willow reached for the sugar. “How much?”
He leaned forward again. “How much can you give me?” he asked, his voice dropping in pitch.
Willow studied him. Why was he acting so funny? “I … have only a little sugar here. If you want more then I’ll have to go to the kitchen …”
“Willow, give me some sugar.”
She looked at the sugar bowl. There wasn’t much more than a few teaspoons left. She picked it up and spooned some into his tea, then gave it a stir. “There, try that.”
He didn’t. He just sat there, his eyes … pointed at her, for lack of a better description. Finally, he raised his cup to his lips and took a sip. “I need more.”
Willow spooned in another spoonful, stirred and said. “That’s all there is.”
He shook his head. “No, there’s more.”
“I can go get it.”
“There’s no need. It’s right here.”
She glanced at the bowl again. “Jack, the bowl is empty.”
“So am I.”
Willow sat, stunned at his words. “What … what is that supposed to mean?”
He held his cup and saucer out to her. She took them from him and set them on the table. “Willow, I’ve been thinking …”
A chill went up her spine. Here it was. He would tell her he didn’t need her anymore. Well, it’s not like she hadn’t expected this to happen. At least if he told her to go, she wouldn’t feel like she was abandoning Howard and Mary.
“Willow?”
“Oh, sorry. I know what you’re going to say. I’ve known for a while now. And it’s all right.”
“All right?”
“Yes, I’m fine with it, really. In fact, I’ve already made plans.”
He smiled as his face brightened. “You have?”
“Yes. You don’t have to worry about doing anything. I’ll make all the arrangements.”
“You will?” he asked in surprise. “Well, I suppose there’s really not that much to do. Then you’re fine with it?”
“Of course,” she said, trying not to sob. Her heart felt like a wagon had just run over it. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“Mary can help. You have something to wear, don’t you?”
“Wear?” Good heavens, why would he bring that up? Was he worried she’d be uncomfortable on the trip without proper traveling clothes? “I’ll be fine.”
“Wonderful, I’ll let Howard and Mary know. They’ll be happy they finally managed to talk some sense into me.”
“They did?”
He smiled. “Well, beat it into me, more like. I finally listened. They’ve only had my best interests in mind since I got here. I was just too pig-headed to see it.”
She stared at him, tears in her eyes, and did her best to keep her voice even. “They’re a wonderful couple. You should be proud to have them as your cousins. I would be.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “I’m sorry about the way I treated you those first couple of weeks. I was awful.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a chuckle. “You were.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. This was harder than she thought. That he was being so cheerful about it only made it worse.
“I’m glad we have this out in the open,” he said. “I wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings between us.”
; She shut her eyes against the tears and tried her best to stifle a sob. “No, of course not.”
He came forward in his chair. “Is something wrong?”
She scrunched up her face and pressed her lips together. “No,” she said as carefully as possible. Thank Heaven he couldn’t see her!
He sat back. “Well, that’s a relief. Let’s enjoy our tea now, shall we? I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do after we finish.” He winked. Egads, in that moment he was the handsomest thing she’d ever seen.
The tears she’d been holding back fell in force. She clenched her fists, looked at the ceiling and bit her lip in anguish. She was in love with him and here he was, thrilled to be sending her on her way. Well then, the sooner she left the better. Now there was no question about what she had to do.
11
“Howard, I did it.” Jack, knowing where the chairs were in the church office, let himself fall into one.
His cousin gave him a blank look. “What are you talking about? Did what?”
“I told Willow I knew why she was brought here.”
“You did what?” Howard exclaimed, his voice cracking on his last word. “Oh dear. How embarrassing.”
“For you or for her?” Jack asked with a sly grin.
Howard studied him. “Doesn’t much matter now, considering the happy look on your face. So you finally gave in to your heart, eh?”
“I decided to take the risk. Besides, marrying Willow is the practical thing to do.”
“Practical?” Howard said, bemused. “Since when does practicality have anything to do with this?”
“Everything, as far as I’m concerned. You’re the one that sent off for a mail-order bride. Weren’t you trying to be practical at the time?”
“All right, you have me,” Howard conceded. “I’m proud of you, Jack. Proud you were willing to take a chance. She’ll be good for you, you’ll see.”
Jack laughed. “It’s because I can’t see and yet she’ll still have me that matters. I find I like her. I like her a lot.”
“I believe she fancies you as well, Jack. I’m sure the two of you will be very happy. You don’t know how hard I’ve prayed for you to come around.”