by Linda Ford
“What are you doing here so early?” Jessica said, her spoon clinking against the bowl.
Jane discarded her reticule on the nearest chair and, continuing into the kitchen, called over her shoulder. “I could use a cup of coffee. Want some?”
The scrape of the chair and clipped footsteps punctuated the silence.
Pulling the golden tin from the top shelf, she plucked the kettle off the back stove plate. She grabbed two mugs and shot Jessica a questioning glance. “Well?”
Anger and something like anguish churned in her green eyes as she stood there, arms folded and chin out. “Why not?”
“Good. Can you grab the milk?”
They worked without speaking, gathering the sugar bowl and a pair of stirring spoons. The fire in the box was already hot, so it didn’t take long for the coffee to boil.
“Why did Tom bring you home?” Jessica burst out.
Inhaling a bracing breath, Jane waited until she’d poured the steaming liquid and slid one mug across the work surface before answering.
“I’m afraid the news isn’t good.”
Jess paused in dumping sugar into the dark brew. “What news?”
“A man was discovered dead this morning. Because he had moonshine on him, there was talk of bringing in federal agents.”
Her hand crept up to grip her throat. “Oh, no.”
“Tom and I decided to go to Shane with our information.”
“What?” The spoon clattered to the counter, and sugar spilled across the surface. “I have to warn him.” She dashed for the rear door.
Slow to react, Jane tripped after her. As she was rounding the far corner of the cabin, she seized her wrist. “Stop! You can’t go over there!”
Jess tried to yank free. Jane held on tight.
“I most certainly can,” she cried, distraught. “Let me go!”
“No.” As much as it was killing her to see Jess like this, she had to make her see reason. “He’s on the wrong side of the law. What will it look like if you go rushing over there?”
“I don’t care. I won’t stand here and do nothing while he’s in danger of being hauled off to jail!”
Stunned, Jane released her. “Are you admitting he’s done wrong?”
“I haven’t seen any evidence. But who knows what Shane will do now that you’ve planted seeds of suspicion in his mind?”
“Shane’s a fair man. He won’t arrest Lee without solid proof.” She jammed her hands on her hips. “Hold on a second, how do you know where he lives? You haven’t been there.”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” She marched toward the barn. “I asked him to take me, and he did.”
Jane followed on her heels. “Let me guess—he wouldn’t let you inside any of the buildings besides the cabin.”
“So he’s messy. I never said he was perfect.”
“If you go there, you could get yourself killed.”
She stomped into the barn. “Lee wouldn’t hurt me. He loves me. He admitted his feelings.”
Dismayed, Jane sank onto the nearest hay square and dropped her head in her hands. She couldn’t force her to stay here.
“What? Aren’t you going to try and convince me he was lying?” she huffed, boosting a saddle onto her palomino, Caramel.
“I don’t think he is.” Her words came out muffled. “Not about his feelings for you, anyway.”
The barn got quiet. One of their cats wound its way between Jane’s legs, its tail brushing her knee.
“What did you mean when you said I’d be in danger?”
Jess stood before her, wariness and hurt warring in her features.
“The silver-haired man I told you about, the one we believe is Lee’s main associate, saw us leaving Shane’s office about an hour and a half ago. Not long after he disappeared into the crowd, we heard gunshots. No doubt he was creating a disturbance in order to give him time to get to Lee’s.”
Jessica shook her head, lips parted in anguish. “This can’t be true.”
Jane slowly gained her feet, extending her hands, wanting nothing more than to take away her grief. “I wish it wasn’t.”
She cupped her forehead. “I—I have to go.”
“But—”
“I’ll stay on our property. I just need—”
“Privacy.” Time to process these revelations alone. “I understand.”
For a second, Jessica didn’t look angry anymore, and the bond they’d shared since childhood once again became tangible. Then, as if a wall slammed down between them, she hung her head and escaped into the woods.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jane busied herself cleaning up Jessica’s abandoned meal and setting up her work space with the ingredients for boiled custards. Time dragged. Almost an hour passed before Jessica returned and, without a word, barricaded herself in her room.
By seven o’clock, the silence became too much.
Jess didn’t respond to her first or second knock. Finally, she answered. “Go away.”
“I’ve made cheese toast.”
“Not hungry.”
“You didn’t eat your lunch.” Flattening her palm against the wood, she said, “I used Aunt Mary’s special blend.”
Their aunt and uncle operated a small-scale dairy, and Mary liked to experiment with various dried herbs. She gave them enough cheese to feed a family double their size. That made her twin happy—Jess’s love of cheese had started early. Their mother liked to recount how she’d found dried bits of it in their room when they were little.
“No, thanks.”
Sighing, Jane returned to the kitchen and ate standing up. She was midchew when there was a knock on the front door. Untying her apron, she draped it over a chair and hurried to the living room window. Tom had indicated he might stop by tonight if Shane had an update.
Behind her, she heard a door creak open. “Who is it?” Jess called.
“Tom and the sheriff.”
Swinging the door wide, Jane waved them in.
Shifting a drowsy Clara to his other shoulder, Tom came in first. An exhausted-looking Shane entered and discarded his hat, running his fingers through his hair in a vain effort to smooth it. He observed Jessica standing in the hallway watching them all.
“Everything okay?” he asked softly.
When Jessica remained tight-lipped, Jane jumped in. “We’re managing.”
Tom started to lower Clara to the sofa.
“Why don’t you put her in my bed? She’d be comfortable there while we discuss…matters.”
He straightened. “You sure?”
“Of course. Follow me.” Passing Jess, she said, “Would you mind putting a kettle of coffee on?”
Not waiting for her reply, Jane hurried into her room on the right, turned down the covers and stepped back to give them space. Tom laid Clara on the straw-filled mattress, removed her shoes and tucked the quilt about her small body. Then he brushed the curls away from her forehead.
“Get some rest, birdie.”
The sweet smile uncle and niece shared melted Jane’s heart.
Would Charles be as attentive to her needs as Tom? As loving and gentle?
After lowering the lamplight on the bedside table, she waited for him near the doorway.
His glance took in her bedroom’s modest furnishings. “I believe this is my first time in your room.”
“It’s nothing much.”
“It’s cozy.” He nodded at the red, white and blue quilt with the log-cabin design. “Did you make that?”
“My grandmother gave it to me a couple of years ago.”
Spying her journal on the bedside table, he grinned. “Do you record your dreams at night?”
She poked him in the stomach. “You’re awfully nosy all of a sudden.”
“Can’t help it. Being in your inner sanctum awakens my curiosity.”
Low voices and the clink of plates drifted in from the living area. Tom’s humor vanished.
“How did she take the news?”<
br />
“Not well. I think she’s beginning to accept that what we’ve been saying is true.”
Massaging the back of his neck, he shook his head. “I hate it for her.”
“Did Shane arrest Lee?”
“No.”
Her relief was followed by a stab of guilt. The law must be upheld and those who broke it held accountable. This wasn’t a faceless criminal, however. It was Lee. The man Jessica loved.
He gestured for her to precede him into the hallway. “Let’s go hear what he has to say.”
Cradling his cup in his large hands, the sheriff occupied a single chair kitty-corner to the worn sofa. Jessica stood at the fireplace, hands twisted together at her waist.
Tom and Jane sat together on the sofa, tension seizing her body the moment Shane opened his mouth.
“We didn’t find the still. I suspect it’s on a part of his property, far up in the hollows. We did, however, discover the mash barrels you told me about, Jane. They were empty. The barn looked as if it had been cleared out in a hurry. No kegs or mason jars. There were a couple of containers of mashed fruit. If they’re making brandy, they’re likely transporting it to Knoxville. Locals can’t afford that stuff.”
“So you can’t arrest him,” Jessica exclaimed.
“No.” His unwavering gaze held a world of understanding. “This isn’t over. He’s going to continue until he slips up. Money is a powerful motivator. If it’s not me there to catch him, it’ll be someone else. In my experience, revenuers target the big operations. The federal government doesn’t like being cheated out of what’s theirs.”
Folding in on herself, Jess stared out the window at the darkening sky. Jane restrained the impulse to go to her. She’d only be rebuffed.
“What of his accomplice?” Tom said. “We spotted him as soon as we left your office.”
“I suspect he’s the one responsible for stirring up the townsfolk this afternoon. By the time we made our way through the crowd, he was gone.” His attention lingered on Jessica. “Now that they know we’re on to them, it’s best you all steer clear.”
Head bent, Jess stalked to the door. “I’ll be in the barn.”
Jane started to get up. A hand on her arm stopped her. Tom’s green eyes sad, he said, “Give her some time.”
How much time? she wanted to demand.
Jane had had years to purge her feelings for Tom, with no success. In fact, they were stronger than ever. How long would it take for her sister to recover? And would she ever forgive her for her part in the destruction of her dreams?
*
Tom didn’t trust the complete absence of activity.
In the four days since Shane’s visit to Lee’s, things had been quiet. Too quiet, in his opinion. He couldn’t help wondering if they were using the time to plot revenge. If Jane had noticed his somber mood, she hadn’t remarked on it. Nor had she protested his insistence on sticking close, picking her up every morning, escorting her to the café and back home each evening.
But, then, she was preoccupied with her own issues.
From what he’d been able to gather, the twins still weren’t on speaking terms. Jessica refused to discuss Lee, and Jane didn’t know if she had broken things off with him or not. She was worried. Her unhappiness went soul-deep, and he struggled with a feeling of helplessness.
Trampling the ferns covering the forest floor, he kept his gaze trained on her crouched form as she plucked berries from a bush and dropped them in the pail at her feet. Not far from her, Clara was curled up on a blanket asleep, her tiny mouth stained from the blue-black berries.
Charles would be here any day. Anticipation mingled with latent anger. He was going to have a serious talk with his brother. No way would he stand by and allow him access to Clara if he thought for one second he’d hurt her again.
Jane looked up at his approach, a sad sort of smile curving her mouth. His breath caught. How many times had he looked upon her face? Thousands? Millions? Not until his homecoming had her beauty truly registered. The way she looked at him sometimes, with open admiration and confidence in him, both humbled him and had his chest expanding with pride.
He found himself searching for ways to make her smile, make her laugh.
A startling thought entered his mind, and he nearly stumbled.
Could she be happy with him?
If the past wasn’t an issue, if his former relationship with Megan didn’t stand between them, could she trust in his feelings for her?
Heart beating fast, he knelt close. “What are these for?” His voice was muddy. Thick. “More pies for the café?”
“I’ll be making this batch into jam for you and Clara.” She held out her cupped palm filled with the fruit. “Want some?”
He took her offering, popping them one by one into his mouth, relishing the burst of tart flavor. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the fruit,” he clarified. “For everything. We’re going to miss you while you’re gone. And, of course, things will be different once you get back.”
She didn’t want to resume her care of Clara once she returned. He understood. Sort of.
Her smile wobbled as she continued her task. “I’m not sure I should go just yet. Ma wrote that she’s fine with me leaving before she returns from Juliana’s. But Jessica needs me right now, even if she won’t admit it.”
He didn’t voice that he and Clara needed her, too. Wouldn’t be fair to pressure her.
“She’ll come around eventually,” he said.
“I hope you’re right.”
The overcast weather lent the forest a vibrancy not visible on sunny days. The leaves were greener. The berries a deeper purple. Jane’s skin had a pearl-like cast, her deep red hair lustrous in the whitewashed light.
After a while, she stopped what she was doing to stare at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Taking her hand in his, he gently unfurled her fingers and skimmed the stains on her fingertips. “Have I ever told you how extraordinarily lovely you are?”
Her sudden inhale echoed through the understory.
Feeling daring, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the middle of her palm, gaze locked on hers. “I don’t know why things altered between us. All I know is they did. Please tell me I’m not alone in this.”
He thought he glimpsed a flare of longing in the green depths before her lashes swept down, blocking his view. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” she whispered on a ragged breath.
Razor-edged disappointment scraped his insides. He released her hand.
How could he have been so misguided?
He stared at the ground. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
When she placed her trembling hands to his cheeks, he jerked his chin up.
“You are one of a handful of people who truly knows me. I couldn’t bear to lose your friendship.”
The well of sadness in her eyes threw him. He didn’t understand. Was he the source of her distress?
He didn’t have a clue about women. Jessica had been right when she’d accused him of repeating his mistakes. Just as Megan had been satisfied with a platonic relationship, so was Jane.
The ache inside had nothing to do with rejection and everything to do with how badly he wanted a chance with her. I love her. Not just in a friendship way, but a passionate, all-consuming, I-want-her-as-my-wife way.
The revelation should’ve stunned him. He’d been moving toward this point since his return.
“Tom?”
Her hands fell to her lap, and he stifled a protest. She was close enough to touch, yet far above his reach.
“I’ll always be here for you, Jane.”
Was it his imagination, or did her shoulders slump a little? He was distracted by Clara’s stirring. On her blanket, she stretched, lids fluttering. She’d wake any minute.
Angling her face away, Jane picked up her pail. “I have enough for now.”
“You
go on ahead,” he said. “I’ll carry her home.”
“Good idea.”
Tom watched her leave, regret a bitter taste in his mouth.
*
Leading him to believe this particular lie was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Broken inside, Jane couldn’t bear to face him. So she’d left a note saying she had to fetch something from town and left on foot.
A strong wind rushed through the surrounding woods, the leaves seeming to whisper the same message over and over. Coward. Weakling. Useless.
She shivered in spite of the stifling heat. How badly she’d been tempted to confess everything…her schoolgirl crush, her despondency after he left, the feelings that had matured into love.
His desire to be near her, while flattering, had been borne out of loneliness. He didn’t want her, specifically. She just happened to be the convenient choice.
Without intending to, she wound up on Megan’s doorstep. Lucian answered her summons and took one look before ushering her into the library and going off in search of his wife.
“Jane!” Closing the door behind her, Megan crossed the room with hands outstretched. “Lucian said you looked peaked. Here, have a seat.”
Jane allowed her to guide her to the chair by the window. Perching on the edge of the ottoman, knees pressing into hers, Megan searched her face for clues. Pale ringlets framing her face, she looked as fresh and stunning as ever. Her happiness, her confidence in Lucian’s love and the strength of their marriage, enhanced her beauty.
“Have you had a letter from Ma? Are Juliana and the children all right?”
“They’re fine. I don’t really know why I’m here.”
Hurt flashed in Megan’s blue eyes. “We used to be close, you and I. Remember?”
Jane nodded miserably. After their run-in last week, she should’ve cleared the air.
“I miss it,” Megan said.
“You spoke to Jessica about me.”
“She told you about our conversation? You never said, and I wondered if she’d chosen not to involve herself.”
“You weren’t actually talking to Jessica.” Fiddling with the pearl buttons on her bodice, Jane grimaced. “It was me.”