by Karen Kirst
Ben snapped his mouth shut, his jaw tensing. “I’ll do it.”
“I owe you, Ben.”
Instead of answering, the lawman nodded his head toward Caroline, who’d finally taken her seat not with her friends, but with the maid Sylvia, an elderly, frail woman who appeared to be Sylvia’s mother and several other women he’d never seen before. Probably reclusive women who spent a bulk of their lives in hard-to-get-to coves and rarely came to town.
“A birdie told me that today is her birthday.”
“Whose?”
“Your wife’s.”
Surprise stole his breath. “I didn’t know. She didn’t tell me.”
Like she hadn’t told him a lot of things. Resentment mingled with hurt. She didn’t trust him with much of anything, big or small. He hated to admit it, but he was quickly losing hope this marriage could last.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The tea party was a resounding success. She couldn’t have asked for finer weather or more delicious food. As the musicians played their last song and one by one the ladies expressed their effusive gratitude, Caroline told the hired lads to help themselves to the leftovers before beginning the massive cleanup. Her closest friends lingered, chatting and laughing together and complaining good-naturedly about indulging in too many sweets.
Allison separated herself from the group. Shane, who’d come to escort her home, called her name and held out a white box. They exchanged tender smiles that made Caroline hurt all over. Fingers curling into her palms, she refrained from searching the grounds for Duncan. Seeing him right now would shatter the false front of contentment she’d manufactured for the sake of her guests.
“Caroline.” Allison’s blue eyes were bright with joy. “This wasn’t the first tea I’ve attended, but it was by far the best. Thank you for what you did today.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you and Jane and countless others.”
“We were happy to be involved.” She wiggled the box. “I know you didn’t want to advertise that it’s your special day, but most everyone is gone. Happy birthday.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Caroline slowly untied the purple ribbon and lifted the lid. She ran her fingers over a flower-and-gold-embossed journal set, complete with a fountain pen. “It’s lovely, Allison. Thank you.”
“I thought you might like to record your thoughts or special occasions during your first year of marriage. Something to pass on to your children or grandchildren someday.”
Caroline’s stomach cramped. There weren’t going to be any children. The way Duncan felt about her, he’d never choose to have a family with her.
Jane and Jessica rescued her, appearing on either side of Allison and thrusting gifts at her. “Don’t forget our presents,” Jessica admonished with a cheeky grin. “You were supposed to wait on us, Allie.” She tapped her shoulder.
“Shane’s anxious to get home,” Allison said by way of apology. “He says he’s worried about what the twins might be getting into, but I suspect he’s determined to get me off my feet.” With a grimace, she rubbed her lower back. “I admit I wouldn’t mind relaxing for an hour or so.”
“I hope you didn’t overtire yourself,” Caroline said.
“I’m not fatigued, exactly.” Indicating her protruding belly, she said wryly, “It’s more that I can’t find a way to be comfortable. This baby is very active. I think he or she is going to have double the energy the twins have.”
They shared a laugh, then Jessica urged Caroline to open her gift first. “A book of recipes.” Caroline’s throat grew thick. Who was she supposed to cook for with Duncan gone? Who would help her measure out the cornmeal correctly and make sure she didn’t start a fire? “This is so thoughtful.”
“I have the same one at home. I went through and put check marks on the ones Grant raves over.”
“I’ll start with those.” She managed to sound halfway normal.
“Now for mine.” Jane clapped her hands together.
Nestled in the jewelry-sized box was a sterling silver ring engraved in floral patterns. She traced the lines of the flowers and leaves, suddenly overcome with emotion. She was no longer that sad little girl who was expected to be perfect, like a collector’s item kept on the shelf until it was time to impress people. She was a reasonable adult who no longer believed in dreams. Birthdays weren’t a big deal. Why was her friends’ thoughtfulness ripping apart her self-control?
“I’m blessed to have you in my life,” she whispered. “All of you.”
She didn’t say it, but she’d need them in the coming weeks and months as she adjusted to life without Duncan.
Jane drew her into a hug, whispering in her ear, “I’m praying for you.”
Caroline was about to respond when Jane stiffened and pulled away. “Caroline, did you know your parents were returning today?”
“What?” Spinning around, she watched with mounting dread as the partly-enclosed carriage pulled up the lane.
Feeling as if she were encased in rock, she stood immobile as her father disembarked and turned to assist her mother. Shaking out her skirts, Louise contemplated the scene with ill-concealed indignation. Albert hung back to speak to the driver. Caroline’s friends fell silent as Louise marched their way.
Depositing her gifts on a nearby table, Caroline greeted her. “Hello, Mother. How was your trip?”
Lips pursed, Louise inventoried everything with an eagle-like gaze, from the dirty dishes to empty glasses to the musicians packing up their instruments. “You went ahead with the tea party without me, I see.”
Keenly aware of their audience, Caroline kept her tone neutral. “I didn’t want to disappoint everyone.”
“Are you quite certain that’s the reason, Caroline?” she quipped. She peered at the china and fingered a yellow bloom. “If your aim had been to maintain tradition, you wouldn’t have changed the color scheme or the menu. You would’ve kept everything the same.”
“Don’t you agree the varying shades of purple are a nice change?” Caroline attempted to placate her. “You once said that it’s the color of royalty.”
“Purple is my favorite color,” Jane piped up.
“And having the same menu every year becomes monotonous,” Jessica interjected. “I was sick and tired of those orange-spice cakes.” Locating an uneaten dessert on the table behind her, she held it out to Louise. “You should try this. Lemon cake with raspberry filling. Caroline’s idea.”
Louise’s nostrils flared. “I detest lemon in desserts.” Returning her attention to Caroline, she said, “No, I don’t agree. The colors you chose look gaudy, as if a child picked them out. I told you we were canceling the tea, did I not? Not only did you proceed without my permission, you made a complete mess of things. What I can’t comprehend is what made you think you could do something of this magnitude without me?”
“Enough.”
Startled by the lash of Duncan’s voice, Caroline jerked. Standing near the sheriff, he zeroed his intense blue gaze in on Louise, and he didn’t look happy. She’d been too mired in embarrassment to notice his approach.
“I’ve had enough of the shameful way you treat your daughter.”
Louise bristled. She opened her mouth to respond, but he didn’t give her the chance.
“Do you think God is pleased with you? He blessed you with a precious child, and you act as if she’s a burden. Have you considered how that makes her feel?”
Amazement arced through Caroline. While everyone else was staring at the ground or points beyond the yard, she gazed at her husband. Despite his disappointment and anger, he’d taken it upon himself to defend her to her own parent.
“How dare you speak me to that way!” Louise exclaimed. Turning her gaze on Caroline, she demanded, “Did you put him up to this? Wait until I speak to your father! He’ll have him
terminated on the spot.”
Albert, who’d concluded his business with the driver, finally reached them. “Come, Louise. You’re overwrought from the long journey.” Taking her arm, he nodded sagely to the group. “Please excuse us. Feel free to linger as long as you wish.”
Louise tried to pry herself from his grip. “Did you hear the way he spoke to me? Imagine, a mere stable manager!”
Caroline winced. She’d spouted similar ugly sentiments not so long ago.
“A stable manager who is your son-in-law.” Albert seemed to take pleasure in reminding her. “It’s a difficult thing to fire family.”
Irritated all over again, Louise wrenched free and, head held high, strode for the house.
“I apologize for that,” Caroline said into the strained silence. “My mother and I haven’t ever seen eye to eye, but we usually keep our disagreements in private.”
“It’s not your fault.” Allison linked arms with her. “Like your father said, she was no doubt exhausted. Coming home to a yard full of people when what she desired was rest and quiet would’ve been upsetting for anyone.”
Caroline sought Duncan’s gaze and instead encountered his broad back as he strode away. He’d said his piece and wasn’t willing to speak to her one-on-one. Desperate to speak to him once more before he left, she was tempted to run after him and throw herself at his feet. Anything to make him listen.
Jane’s expression was hopeful. “That was very sweet of Duncan.”
Jessica snorted. “Did you see your mother’s reaction? She looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air.”
“That’s not helping,” Jane admonished.
“He’s a man of many admirable traits,” Caroline said, wishing with all her heart that she’d realized it sooner. Maybe then she would’ve tried harder to become a woman he could admire. Maybe then she could’ve won his heart.
But she wasn’t what he wanted or needed. The sooner she accepted that, the better.
* * *
Duncan stood on the busy streets of Boston, travel bag in hand, trying to absorb the familiar sights, scents and sounds at once. Nearby, a sausage vendor hawked his wares. Young girls balanced newspaper-wrapped bundles of flowers on their shoulders in the hopes of making a little income. Horse-drawn carriages shared the cobblestone streets with throngs of people hurrying about their business and the occasional stray dog.
He breathed in the briny air as nostalgia seized him. He’d changed so much during his absence that he felt as if he was a completely different man. As he made his way along the crowded streets, he tried to imagine Caroline’s reaction. Would she like the city’s hustle-and-bustle atmosphere? There were museums and art galleries, parks and libraries he could’ve taken her to if he’d allowed her to accompany him. Plays and musicals, too. Had she ever tasted lobster or crab? Oysters were a personal favorite. And clams. He’d convinced her to test frog legs. He was confident she’d be willing to try more new things.
Regret was a tangible thing. His wife hadn’t left his thoughts for one second since he left Gatlinburg two days ago. He’d had a lot of time to think things through, time to pray and seek God’s guidance. Duncan had come to the conclusion that he’d allowed his hurt feelings to dictate his actions. Instead of hurling accusations, he should’ve given her a chance to explain. He should’ve said goodbye. That was his biggest regret...leaving in the predawn hours, his heart a stone in his chest as he’d walked past the big Victorian where she slept in her old bedroom, as if their marriage was already over.
Shaking off the troubling thoughts, he continued on his way. When he reached the gates at the entrance to his parents’ estate, he felt the urge to break into a run. He’d missed them and his brothers more than he’d realized. Picking up the pace, he hurried along the path lined by trees on one side and vast green lawn on the other. The grand brick house looming above him looked the same. Before he could reach the stairs leading to the front entrance, someone shouted his name. Duncan turned and recognized his youngest brother running toward him.
He skidded to a stop mere feet away, his chest heaving and green eyes as huge as saucers. “Duncan? Is it really you?”
“Hello, Bram.” Grinning, he held his arms out and received a hearty hug. “How are you? How’s Maw and Da? And Alistair, is he home?”
Bram laughed and pulled him up the steps. “Everyone’s fine. Ian is still his stodgy self. No’ sure why Lorraine puts up with him. The kids are healthy and as mischievous as ever.” Tugging open the door, he ushered Duncan in. “Alistair has met a lady who he believes may be worth keeping. He willnae shut up about her.”
Duncan chuckled. “And what about you? How are your studies?”
“Challenging,” Bram conceded on a more serious note. “I have little time for fun anymore.”
“Welcome to adulthood, little brother.”
His parents welcomed him with such joyous enthusiasm that he felt guilty for staying away as long as he had. The one thought at the forefront of his mind was that Caroline should be here. His family would adore her. They’d sat down to tea in what his mother referred to as the gold parlor when Alistair waltzed in. After more hugs and questions, they settled in their seats around the low table piled with refreshments. Duncan lifted his cup to his mouth and sipped the honey-sweet liquid.
Alistair surged to his feet, startling them all.
“What’s that?” he demanded.
“What’s what?” Duncan looked at his parents, who were as perplexed as he was.
“The gold band on your finger!”
His mother gasped. “Duncan, did you...are you...why didnae you tell us?”
Bram let out a whoop and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is goin’ to be good.”
Setting his cup on the table, he stood and looked at them each in turn. “I was married in early July. I sent a letter explaining the circumstances surrounding my marriage.”
His father’s thick auburn brows crashed together. “We didnae get your letter, son.”
“Who is she? Why didnae she travel with you?” His mother demanded, lifting a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling fingers. “Did she not wish to meet us?”
“No, Mother.” Heaving a sigh, he thrust his fingers through his hair. “Caroline would’ve liked to meet you. I chose to come alone.”
Alistair arched a brow. “This disnae sound good. What’s goin’ on, Duncan?”
He explained how he wound up in East Tennessee working for the Turners, as well as the reasons for their forced marriage.
“I wish you’d never left Boston,” his mother lamented. “You could’ve made a wonderful match from among our friends.”
“Maureen would’ve made a fine wife,” his father tacked on.
“No’ for me, Da.”
Duncan wandered over to an oversize window with a view of the gardens. A massive, curly-edged cloud had drifted in front of the sun, casting the fountains and flower beds in shadow. The largest fountain was a reminder of the time he and his best friend had dumped soap shavings in the water. His mother had been livid, the head gardener even more so. He’d lived without thought to consequences or others’ feelings back then. He thanked God he’d gotten out when he had.
“I’m sorry that happened, son.” His father’s voice was heavy with sympathy.
“I’m not.”
Not now that he’d gotten to know Caroline probably better than anyone else in the world knew her. He realized with a start what a privilege that was, considering how fiercely she guarded her heart.
Alistair was the first to break the stunned silence. “Have you grown to care for her then?”
“I have.”
“Do you love her?” This from Bram, who suddenly seemed like a grown-up man.
“I didnae mean for it to happen,” Duncan replied, almost to hims
elf.
Rubbing both hands down his unshaven face, he pictured her as he’d last seen her, beautiful and untouchable and adrift. Not part of her parents’ family and not truly part of his, either. Missing her became an ache in his chest that wouldn’t be comforted. Duncan felt as if he’d lived a dozen lifetimes and had not an ounce of wisdom to show for it. His usual instincts had failed him in countless ways throughout their relationship. He felt inadequate and hopeless and desperate for a solution.
He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his own wife. But he had, and now he was miserable. Father God, what am I supposed to do? How can I fix this?
“Does she feel the same?”
“Doubtful. Caroline disnae trust me.”
“That disnae mean she can’t love you,” his father said. Then, stroking his chin, he turned to his wife. “Does it?”
“Hold on,” Alistair interjected, “how come she disnae trust you? What did you do, Duncan?”
“My guess is he was his usual pigheaded, prideful self.” Bram smirked.
“You’re right. I was. Am.”
In his initial anger over the marriage, he’d nursed bitterness that had blinded him to Caroline’s needs. Throughout their time together, he’d mostly been focused on his ideas and his priorities. He hadn’t considered what his wife thought about things, how her upbringing had molded her, made it difficult to rely on anyone except herself.
Instead of proving himself worthy of her trust, he’d pushed her away at the first sign of trouble. The question remained—would she accept his apology and give him a chance to be the husband she needed?
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Caroline? Are you in here?”
For a split second, Caroline thought the male voice belonged to Duncan. Then the lack of accent registered, and the bubble of hope burst. Patting Lulabelle, she rose from the stool and left the stall.
“Good evening, Ben. What can I do for you?”
The deputy entered the shaded interior carrying a small wooden box and sporting a sheepish expression. “I’m here on an important errand that completely slipped my mind.”