by Barbara Mack
They sat talking quietly for a time, keeping the conversation light. Sophie sat with Becca on her lap until her mother whisked her away, stating firmly that it was time for little girls to be in bed. Becca protested vigorously, but her mother had her way in the end.
“She’s a corker, that one,” Mrs. Ferguson said fondly. “Bonita has her hands full with her children. They’re a blessing to my sister, though – when her husband died last year, Robert and Becca were her salvation. Someone to focus on besides herself, you know. Her other two boys are grown and gone, and she needs these two right now. She’s had a hard road to hoe since Jimmy died, but you never hear her complain. She says it’s just what has to be done, and there’s no sense in crying over it. She takes in washing and Robert here hires out to the stables down the street. “
“It’s a good job.” Robert ducked his head when Sophie looked at him. “Mr. Johnson pays me well. He says I’m a good worker. He asks after Ma all the time, and he’s always sending something home with me. Last week, he gave me a big bundle of clothes to give to her. I think he’s sweet on her, but she’s always telling me not to be silly, he’s just a nice man. “
Nancy Ferguson smiled. “Isn’t Mr. Johnson a widower?”
Robert nodded vigorously. “His wife died the year before Pa did. She’d been sickly for a long time.”
“That’s interesting news. We’ll have to see if we can do something about that, Robert.” She stood up and stretched. “But now I think it’s time for bed. Tomorrow is going to come awfully early, and Sophie’s still tired out. She can barely keep her eyes open.”
It was true; Sophie was tired. She smiled sleepily.
“Where are we to sleep?” she asked. Earlier, Bonita had shown her around proudly, and Sophie noticed that the house consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen, and this sitting room. “I don’t want to take anyone’s bed. I could sleep on a pallet in here.”
“No, no,” said the two in a chorus.
“I’ll sleep on the pallet, Miss,” Robert said. “Ma and Becca will sleep together, and Aunt Nancy and you can share the other room. I sleep in here all the time when Aunt Nancy comes to visit. I don’t mind a bit.”
“Come,” Mrs. Ferguson said, drawing her up firmly. “You need your rest, and I suspect Bonita has fallen asleep with Becca already. I keep some clothing here, and I’m sure I’ve got something for you to sleep in.”
Sophie let herself be drawn away, protesting no further. Mrs. Ferguson undressed her as if she were a child and put a nightgown over her head that could have easily enclosed two more of her. She tucked her into bed and in moments, Sophie was sleeping peacefully with the warmth of the other woman beside her.
********
Sophie woke with a cry of fear, sitting straight up in the bed and looking around in panic. It took her a moment to realize that she was safe in Bonita’s house, and that Delia hadn’t managed to sell her after all. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, putting her head between her knees and gasping for breath.
When she finally managed to calm herself, she stood up shakily, holding onto the bedpost with one hand. She smiled when she saw her clothing laid out on the shabby armchair; Mrs. Ferguson had cleaned and pressed them. She wouldn’t have to spend the day in clothing too big for her, or wear her wrinkled garb. She washed herself as best she could with the basin of water left for her and hurriedly dressed.
Jackson was coming today, and from the look of the light pouring through the windows, he would be coming soon. She’d slept half the day away.
When she left the bedroom, Mrs. Ferguson and her sister turned from their ironing to smile identical smiles at her.
“Well now, you’re finally awake,” Bonita said heartily. “I thought we were going to have to go and pull you from your bed before your fella gets here, but you’ve got time to eat a quick bite before he comes, I think.”
She hustled Sophie into the kitchen with Mrs. Ferguson and Becca trailing behind, talking nonstop as she put a plate of eggs and biscuits in front of her. Sophie protested she couldn’t eat the whole plate, but when she took the first bite, it tasted like ambrosia. Before she knew it, all the food was gone and Mrs. Ferguson was whisking the plate away.
Mrs. Ferguson offered to fix her hair, and Sophie was quite pleased when she finished. Little curls cascaded from a high knot to dangle around her face. She stared in the mirror and thought it looked quite lovely. She didn’t recognize herself, she looked so pretty, and she hugged the older woman fiercely.
“You’re so good to me,” she choked out. “I lived with you for all those years, and I never knew how good you were. I should have.”
“Hush now, child. It’s all right. All I did was fix your hair.”
Sophie knew it was much more than that, but she knew that Mrs. Ferguson was embarrassed. Her face was bright red, so Sophie let it go.
They settled in the sitting room to wait, and Sophie’s stomach tied itself in knots. She was just regretting her big breakfast when a knock came at the door. She clutched her stomach, trying to still the butterflies there.
Bonita ushered him in, and he crossed to Sophie immediately, clutching her hands in his. He bent to look in her face intently.
“Are you all right, Sophie?”
“Yes, I am now.” Her hands trembled in his, and he held them tighter. Bonita and Mrs. Ferguson retreated to the kitchen. She could hear Becca squealing in the other room, and the noise the little girl made seemed awfully loud to be coming through a closed door. When Sophie glanced that way, she saw that the door had been left open a crack. A wide crack, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that was an eye peeking at them. She squeezed Jackson’s hand and tilted her head toward it, hoping he would pick up the signal and understand. She didn’t want to have this conversation with the two sisters watching, even if they both were awfully sweet. He squeezed back and winked.
“Do you feel up to going for a ride? I rented the gig again. The note Robert gave me said you’d been dosed with laudanum and I thought you might not feel up to walking as we usually do.”
“I’d love to go for a ride.”
Sophie jumped to her feet and called out to the sisters that she would be leaving for a while. The kitchen door swung the rest of the way open before she was finished speaking, and she hid a smile behind her hand.
“Take your time, take your time,” Bonita said, bouncing Becca on one hip. “You young people enjoy this sunshine while you can.”
Once outside, Jackson handed her up into the gig then took the reins from Robert, who stood resolutely by the horse. Sophie suspected from the huge smile on his face that Jackson had given him a coin for is trouble. Jackson nodded toward a valise as he flicked the reins and got the horse moving.
“Open that, would you?”
Inside the valise were her things. Her spare dress lay on top, carefully folded. She blushed when she dug farther into the bag and saw her ragged underclothing. She so hoped Jackson hadn’t noticed how threadbare they were. There was her handbag, the fine linen kerchief that she’d made from scraps of Delia’s dress, and the soft woolen shawl David had bought her the Christmas before he died. Down in the bottom was a small, carefully wrapped bundle, and she opened it, her breath catching in her throat. She clutched it to her chest, eyes shining.
“How did you get my things?”
“I went over to your sister’s house and found a policeman there. I told him that I was your fiancée and that you were too overwrought to come back to the house. It wasn’t hard to convince him to let me in. I recognized that dress when I opened your wardrobe, so I knew I must be in the right room. Is the cameo special to you?”
“It was my mother’s. It’s the only thing of hers that I have.”
Her mouth trembled, as did her voice, and Jackson switched the reins to one hand and patted her knee. “There, there,” he said awkwardly. “I know this must be hard for you, but it’s going to be all right.”
They traveled in silence for a little while, So
phie tilting her face up to the sun and listened to the sound of the horse clip-clopping down the street. She didn’t know what to say, so she pinned the cameo to her dress and buttoned the valise back up, which was awfully thin for something that held all her worldly goods. Jackson finally broke the silence.
“I’m glad I rented the gig. I wanted to talk to you alone, and I didn’t want to discuss any of this in front of Mrs. Ferguson and her sister. If we wanted any privacy, leaving the house was our only option.”
Sophie giggled. “I expected one of them to trip and come tumbling into the room any second. If someone had given the door a good push, Mrs. Ferguson would have lost her nose.”
“I have to leave tomorrow.”
The words fell starkly between them, and Sophie lost her smile.
“I don’t have any choice in the matter, Sophie. I received a message that my sisters have been coming around and interfering in the running of the farm.” Jackson stared straight ahead. “The man I hired to help me run the place is worried that they’re starting up trouble again, and I can’t have that.”
He stopped the horse right in the middle of the street, and turned to face her.
“I want you to come with me, Sophie.”
Sophie opened her mouth to speak, but Jackson held up a hand and her words stuttered to a halt. “Wait. Let me get this out.” His words were rushed and he couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “You have a place to stay, that is true, but I can provide better. I can take care of you, Sophie. I’ll buy you new clothes, give you an allowance, and draw up papers that give you a settlement when you leave. I promise that if you don’t like it there, I’ll make arrangements for you to come back to the city and live comfortably.”
Jackson leaned forward and grasped her hands. Sophie didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want him to leave. “I’ve become very fond of you, my dear,” he said in a husky voice. “Please tell me you will come.”
“I will.” The words seemed to pop out of their own volition. She’d meant to say no. Hadn’t she? She opened her mouth to take it back, but the effect of her words on Jackson were so astounding that she just couldn’t do it. A wide smile lit his face, and he leaned forward to brush his mouth over hers, no matter that they were in the middle of the street with passersby gawking at them. His lips clung to hers, and Sophie kissed him back without reservation.
I did that, she thought dazedly as he kissed her. Just saying that I will live with him at his farm made him the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Surely he cares for me. Then she stopped thinking at all while his mouth ravished hers thoroughly. When he drew his head away, Sophie was flushed and her heart beat in her chest like a big brass drum. She couldn’t take it back now. She couldn’t take the smile from his face. Besides…she didn’t really want him to leave her behind.
“You’ve made me the happiest man imaginable. I promise you won’t regret it, Sophie.”
Sophie hoped that it was so, and she hoped even more that he wouldn’t regret it.
The afternoon was a whirlwind of activity. Once Jackson had her answer, he wasted no time in making the arrangements. He retrieved his wagon, bought supplies and what seemed like a mountain of clothing for Sophie. She protested, but he would brook no argument; Sophie found herself wearing a smart new outfit in no time at all and had a new nightgown and hairbrush in her valise, with the promise that the rest of the items would be sent on to her at Jackson’s farm in short order.
Then they were off to break the news to Mrs. Ferguson and Bonita. Sophie cried when Mrs. Ferguson and Bonita hugged her, one right behind the other, and told her that she was always welcome in their home. They extracted a promise from her that she would write at least once a month.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” Nancy Ferguson asked quietly, looking intently into her eyes. Sophie assured her that it was and Mrs. Ferguson seemed to accept that, though her eyes still were troubled.
Jackson rented her an adjoining room at the hotel where he was staying, and Sophie declined the desk clerk’s offer to have a maid put her belongings away. She followed the stairs up to her room while Jackson waited in the dining room for her.
Her hands lingered on the ornately carved chiffarobe. Her possessions made a pitifully small pile in the deep drawer. She trailed her fingers over the feather bed and felt the fabric of the curtains, then realized she was stalling. Sophie turned to the mirror on the wall to fix her hair. It still looked lovely, but she fussed with it for a few moments anyway, then took a deep breath and went downstairs to have dinner with the man who would soon be her lover.
Chapter Five
Jackson had ordered dinner for them already and the food arrived almost as soon as Sophie did. It looked beautiful and at any other time, she would have been ecstatic to be eating such fare but she was so nervous that it could have been sawdust and she wouldn’t have known.
After the dishes had been cleared away, Jackson cleared his throat. Jackson covered her hand with his, and Sophie trembled.
“My dear, I have to say this. Can you come to me without fear? After all that has happened, if you want to wait…I will understand,” he said in a low voice. “It’s important to me, Sophie. I haven’t yet found a woman who isn’t repulsed by my scars, and I need someone in my life. I am lonely at the farm; it doesn’t have to be a love affair, but I need someone who feels desire for me, and someone who cares for me…just a little bit. I would rather wait than force you to do something you aren’t yet ready to do.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Sophie ignored the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She liked him, and she enjoyed his kisses, and waiting would just make it worse. When she thought that she would never see him again, her heart had plummeted to her feet, and then soared upward again when Bonita told her that Robert had contacted him on her behalf. “Yes, I will be happy in your bed, Jackson. I find you very attractive.“ She held his gaze with her own. “Very happy,” she said firmly.
It wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t! She told herself. She was attracted to him, she just didn’t know that she wouldn’t be fearful the first time. Perhaps it would be all right; it had been a long time since…she thrust the thought away. She would not think of that time, she would not!
“If you are sure. Would you like to go to your room and wait for me there? I will check on our schedule for tomorrow. I want to make sure that all the supplies are packed in the wagon and secured for the night.”
“Yes, of course,”
Sophie got to her feet, her heart fluttering madly. He rose and gave her a slight bow, a smile on his face. His fingers lingered on her hand when he gave her the key, and she could feel his gaze on her back as she walked away.
I can do this, I can do this, she told herself as she readied for bed. How was she to wait? Should she be naked and under the covers, or dressed in her nightclothes and on her feet? Light on, or off? She dithered for a moment before throwing the loose gown over her head and dowsing the candle. She crawled into the bed and lay there, shivering. When the adjoining door creaked open, she held her breath.
“Jackson?” she asked in a quavering voice. “Is that you?”
“Who else would it be, Sophie?”
He chuckled, and Sophie’s stomach twisted again. She forced herself to let go the covers she clutched in her hand as she heard the sounds of his undressing. When he crawled in beside her, she nearly jumped off the bed.
Jackson could feel his heart pounding, and he tried to force his hands to stop shaking. He had half expected her to be gone when he got back to the room, and he had hurried through his inspection of the wagon. They could be short by half of everything he had ordered, and he would have no idea. He could only think of the woman who waited for him.
She was really here; she lay in the bed next to him now, and Jackson felt his blood burn hot to match the heat coming off her body. His heart rate trebled, and he turned to face her. He reached out with a trembling hand to touch her; he had to lay hands on her, had to see if she felt as
soft as she looked. He was dying to warm himself on her skin, and he tried not to think about how long it had been since he’d touched a woman this way.
When he touched her arm, she flinched just slightly, and his fingers stilled. There was something about this that wasn’t right, something that made him feel uneasy in the pit of his stomach. She was shaking, and he peered through the gloom of the darkened room at her, trying to see her face. He raised himself up on one elbow, and the moon decided just then to come out from behind the clouds that hid it. An errant moonbeam lighted the room for a second, just long enough for him to see her there with both eyes squeezed shut. Her expression was tormented, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
When he brought his hand up to her face, one lone tear suddenly broke free from its tenuous hold on her thick lashes and rolled down the porcelain perfection of her features. His mouth twisted, and he felt bitterness rise through his whole body. He felt like an animal, like some beast forcing his will on another, and he’d sworn he was never going to feel that way again. Damn her for lying to him with her words. Damn her for lying with those sweet, sexually curious eyes of hers. Damn her to hell.
He sat up abruptly on the side of the bed and pulled on his pants with swift, jerky movements, not bothering to fasten them, filled with cold rage. Dimly he was aware of her sitting up in the bed behind him, but he ignored her movements. He had to get out of this room, had to get away right now.
“What is it, Jackson?’ she asked quietly, in a voice that hardly shook at all. She was proud of herself for that. She pushed back her silky hair with one hand. “What are you doing?”
“I wish that you had been more forthcoming about your revulsion for my person,” he said coldly, yanking on his boots and standing up. “I asked you specifically, Sophie.” He seemed to loom larger in the darkened room, and Sophie shrank back a little. The side of his face with the eye patch was shadowed, and it was as if he had no face on that side at all, merely a black hole where features would be.