“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”
Eliza offered him a big smile. “Thank you.” Then she rushed from the store.
She’d just crossed the street and was almost to the door of the dress shop when a tall, thin man grabbed her elbow. Eliza tried to jerk away from him, but he held fast.
His rich calm voice stopped her from screaming. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” He pulled her toward the alley.
“Let go of me.” Eliza jerked hard away from him. “Or I’ll scream,” she threatened.
He stopped. “Why would you scream? I’ll just explain that you are my wife and we’ve had a little spat.” Confusion laced the words. “I just want to talk to you. Say I’m sorry, honey.” His dark eyes and smooth voice worked toward calming her down.
Instead, they placed fear in her heart. The man was demented! “I am not your wife.”
“No, she’s my wife. Unhand her now.”
Eliza felt as if she might melt into the ground. Jackson stood a few feet away, looking angrier than a bear whose cub had been threatened. His legs were spread and his fists clenched.
Whoever the man was, he dropped her arm and stared from her to Jackson. “But...”
Eliza ran to Jackson.
His words came out cold and hard. “Go into the dress shop, now.”
Fury radiated from his very being. Eliza didn’t know if the rage was directed at her or the man who’d dared to try and force her into the alley. She stared into his ice-blue eyes.
“For once, do as I say.” Jackson ground the words out through clenched teeth.
She turned and ran to the dress store. The bell announced her arrival, but Eliza paid no heed to it. She turned and watched Jackson through the glass window.
He marched right up to the man and growled something. She couldn’t make out his words and was tempted to go out onto the porch so she could hear better.
The man spread his hands out in front of him and began talking hastily. Again, she couldn’t make out their words. Whoever the stranger was, he was explaining fast and backing up.
He had straight black hair and a black mustache. Dark black eyes the color of polished jewels stared at Jackson as he moved away from him.
“May I help you?”
Eliza ignored the woman and continued to watch her husband put the fear of God into the other man. She heard the woman clear her throat and decided she’d better answer. “No, thank you.”
The store owner came to stand beside her. “My, that is one big man,” she gasped.
Eliza watched the stranger turn on his heels and hurry away. Jackson turned to the window. Anger laced his features and she remembered her promise. Day two of her marriage and she’d lied to her husband and disobeyed him. A sick feeling entered her stomach.
The other woman noted, “And he’s madder than a cross-eyed bull.” Her hand trembled as she reached for her throat.
“It’s all right. He’s not angry at you,” Eliza tried to assure the woman. She turned to the door as Jackson’s boots pounded up the sidewalk.
He opened the door and growled, “Let’s go.”
For a brief moment, Eliza pondered refusing but then she saw the look in his eyes and came to her senses. Jackson had every right to be angry with her and she was grateful he’d shown up when he had. She walked toward him, and the owner of the dress shop stepped in front of her.
“You don’t have to go with him, you know.” Her blond hair shimmered in the sunlight that flowed from the big window. Fear filled her soft green eyes.
Eliza offered her a timid smile. “Thank you, but he’s my husband. So I do have to go.”
A flash of defiance entered the other woman’s eyes. “I’ll help you.”
Without being told, Eliza had the inclination that the woman before her had been hurt by a man. “Thank you for caring. But I can assure you even though he’s angry with me right now, Jackson won’t harm me.” She gave her a hug and then pulled away.
“Are you sure? He looks mad enough to hit someone.” The woman looked from Jackson to Eliza.
Eliza glanced over her shoulder at her new husband. He did look mad enough to hit someone. She didn’t know him very well, but Eliza knew deep in her heart that Jackson Hart would never hit a woman, especially her. She turned back to the dressmaker. “You’re right, he does look pretty angry. But I can assure you, he has never hit me and he never will.”
She nodded. A deep sighed exited her lungs. Her hands grabbed Eliza’s and squeezed. “All right, but if you should ever need a place to run to, my door will always be open to you.”
Eliza smiled. “Thank you.” She returned the squeeze to the other woman’s hands and then released them.
Jackson cleared his throat and asked, “Ready?”
His voice was much softer now and he seemed to have relaxed. Eliza walked toward him. “Yes, I’d like to go home.”
* * *
Jackson reached out and pulled her close to him. He held her against his chest and let her listen to the rapid beat of his heart. When he’d seen her being pulled toward the alley, his heart had jumped with fear. Why hadn’t she stayed at the general store like she’d promised?
If he hadn’t seen her cross the street, he might not have been there to stop the demented stranger. Jackson still didn’t understand how the man could have mistaken Eliza for his wife. The only thing that had saved the man from a good beating was that deep in his eyes, Jackson could read that the man believed he’d found his long-lost wife.
What caused a man to go crazy and mistake one woman for another? He buried his face in Eliza’s neck and held her tight for a few minutes longer. Jackson knew the other woman was watching him but he didn’t care. All he cared about now was making sure Eliza was safe and unharmed.
He leaned back and looked into her face. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“No. He didn’t hurt me. I think he was just delusional. He thought I was his wife. It was frightening. I’m so glad you came along.” She looked up at him with clear brown eyes.
Jackson pulled her back against his chest. “I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
Eliza shook her head. “No, I’m the one who is sorry I didn’t keep my word. I should never have left the general store.” Her hands moved up his back and Jackson felt her squeeze him close.
What was he going to do? He knew he was falling in love with Eliza. His heart had lurched in his chest when he’d thought she was in danger. Jackson determined in his heart to fight feelings of love.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eliza climbed down from the buckboard before Jackson could help her down. He’d been even more silent on the way home from Glendale then he’d ever been before. Deep down Eliza felt she’d lost his respect.
He handed her her bag. In a cool voice he said, “I’ll put the horses and wagon away.” Jackson sat back down and clicked his tongue. The horses headed to the barn.
Tears burned the back of her eyes. She’d lost something very special today. The sun was going down, and Eliza just wanted to crawl into her bed and cover up her head. She opened the door and lit a kerosene lantern for added light.
The house seemed quiet without Peter. She’d missed the little boy during the short time they’d been gone. Like a sleepwalking person, Eliza made her way to her bedroom.
She wondered if Jackson would move into the house tonight or stay in his room. With no one to impress she expected him to stay in his room.
Tomorrow she’d deal with where he’d sleep once he moved into the house. Weariness swept over her. Eliza pulled her covers down on the bed and crawled in between her cool sheets.
She blew out the lantern and then allowed her silent tears to flow. Eliza cried for what she’d lost with Jackson, she cried for herself and
she cried because she’d lied to Jackson and broken a promise.
When all her tears were dry, she cried out to the Lord. She asked for direction. And she asked Him to help Jackson forgive her.
The knowledge that she needed to apologize entered her tired mind. She’d do it first thing in the morning. Once the decision was made, peace enveloped her. The sun sank and Eliza fell into an exhausted sleep.
The next morning, she awoke to sunlight and rainbows flooding her room. Eliza yawned and stretched. She turned over. Jackson sat in a chair beside the bed, asleep.
When had he come in? She felt bad that he’d slept in the chair. Eliza pushed back the covers and tiptoed to her bag. She pulled out the yellow dress and slipped it on over her nightgown. Then she walked to the kitchen.
Her packages from the day before were on the table. Eliza carried the fabric and notations to the sewing room. She collected the things she’d gotten for Peter and placed them on his bed, except for the candy. She decided to keep that in the kitchen as a special treat.
After starting the coffee, Eliza made a batch of pancakes, fried sausage and eggs. The coffee’s rich aroma filled the house. As she worked, she tried to figure out how she and Jackson were going to coexist when he didn’t trust or believe in her anymore.
Eliza set the table and waited for him to come to the kitchen. She sipped on a cup of tea and looked out at the garden spot in the backyard. Every year she planted a plot. She wondered if she should this year, too.
Her gaze moved to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. To keep from thinking about Jackson, she forced her mind to focus on the garden. She told herself that working in the soil was something she’d always enjoyed. Since the Tuckers weren’t returning until next spring she decided to go ahead and plant vegetables and herbs.
The sound of Jackson moving about drew her attention. Again she tried not to think about facing him and the apology she knew would need to be said.
Eliza turned her thoughts back to the subject of gardening. She’d need to go to Mrs. Miller’s store and buy seeds. And since her own place still had a garden spot, maybe she’d plant two gardens. She could can most of it and share the extras with her neighbors and friends.
Jackson walked into the kitchen with one hand clutching his lower back. He didn’t say anything, just headed straight for the coffeepot.
Even rumpled from a rough night he was still the handsomest man in all of Cottonwood Springs. “Good morning.” Eliza stood and got a plate. She filled it full of food and then set it in his spot at the table.
“I said you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of getting my own breakfast,” Jackson growled at her.
Eliza frowned. “I’m sorry. I always get Charlie’s meals and just assumed I’d do the same for you.” She watched him sit down slowly at the table.
“I’m not Charlie.” He took a sip of his coffee.
She tried to hold back the tears. “No, you’re not.”
Jackson’s head came up. “What’s that suppose to mean?”
Eliza sighed. “It means you can get your own breakfast from now on.”
They sat in silence. He sipped his coffee and she rotated her teacup in her hands as she watched him. Charlie would not have snapped at her like that. She realized as soon as she had the thought it was a lie. Charlie had snapped at her often.
Eliza knew their marriage hadn’t been perfect, but since his passing she’d made him out to be more than he was. Charlie was a good man who’d loved her and she had loved him, but he wasn’t perfect. At some point along the way, she’d colored him in her mind as an ideal husband.
“You loved Charlie, didn’t you?” Jackson asked as he set his cup down.
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you ever lie to him? Break a promise to him?” he asked. His gaze had moved out the window.
Eliza sighed and set her cup down, too. “You mean like I did to you yesterday?”
Blue eyes swung around to study her. “Yes.”
“No, I didn’t. For the past five years I’ve done what I wanted to, when I wanted to. I didn’t answer to anyone. I’m used to the way it has been since Charlie died. I’m not saying what I did was right. I shouldn’t have left the general store. I did so to get away from that foul cigar smoke. Then I saw the dress shop, so I told Mr. Roberts where I was going and then went. I acted impulsively.” She stopped talking and picked up her teacup again. “I really am sorry, Jackson.”
“Your impulsiveness could have gotten you killed.” He took a sip of his coffee and continued to study her over the top of the cup.
Eliza didn’t know what else to say. He was right. She could have been killed. “I know, and I’ve already said I was sorry. What more do you want me to say?”
“That you won’t lie to me again or break your promises.”
He leaned forward on his arms and waited.
The words burned her throat as she spit them out. “And if I say that, will you believe me?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’ll try.”
She nodded. “Then so will I.”
Confusion crossed his features. “What? Try to keep your word? Or believe that I’ll keep mine?”
“Both.”
Jackson sighed. “Fair enough.” He rubbed the muscles in his lower back.
Eliza offered him a weak smile. “Would you like for me to make you a cup of willow bark tea? It will help your back feel better.”
He pulled his plate to him. “Thank you for offering but I need to get to work. I’ll eat and then head on over to the smithy.”
Eliza stood. Her mind worked as he ate. He couldn’t continue to sleep in a chair, and she wasn’t going to share her bed.
Jackson’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor as he stood. His plate was empty. She watched as he drained the last of his coffee. “Was that our first argument?” he asked.
She nodded. “I believe it was.”
He walked to her and laid both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t husbands and wives kiss and make up when they argue?”
Surely he wasn’t planning to kiss her.
* * *
Jackson wanted her to know he was no longer angry. He cupped her face in his hands and gently touched his lips to hers. One hand slid into her hair and the other snaked around her back. He pulled her to him and deepened the kiss, pulling her even closer. Holding her in his arms like this felt amazing, felt right.
When he pulled back, she looked as dazed as he felt.
She moved her hand to cover her heart and sighed. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Time for me to get to work.” He hurried out the door, leaving her looking mystified.
Within a few minutes he opened the smithy to the group of men who stood outside its doors. “Morning, gentlemen.”
The men echoed, “Mornin’.”
He walked to the forge, his mind on Eliza and the kiss they’d just shared. She’d seemed to enjoy it as much as he had. Jackson stoked the coals and blew on them to start the fire. Eliza’s lips had tasted like sweet honey and she smelled of vanilla. He could get used to kissing her.
Bart Hamilton pulled him from his musings. “How was Glendale?” He blew his nose on a white handkerchief.
“It’s a nice town but has some problems.”
Hank Browning, the livery owner, stepped up beside him. “What kind of problems?”
Jackson looked pointedly at Hank’s ten-year-old son, Carl. “The kind that I should be telling the sheriff instead of you guys.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words. Truth was he didn’t want rumors running wild before he could speak to Bob James, the sheriff.
“Carl, run over to the sheriff’s office and ask him if he’ll come on over here.”
“All right, Pa.” He took
off running down the road.
Carl turned to Jackson. “While we’re waiting for the sheriff, would you mind looking at May Bell’s shoes?”
Jackson followed him out into the sunshine. He noticed the other men had settled on barrels and wagon beds around the front of the smithy. They were talking and laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. He wondered why they weren’t at work.
Hank held his mare, May Bell, steady while Jackson examined each shoe in turn. “She needs four new shoes,” he finally said, dropping the last hoof.
“I was afraid you were going to agree with me,” Hank replied, looking uncomfortable.
“What’s the problem?”
“May Bell belongs to the Widow Simmons. She boards her with me, but I know she doesn’t have the money to pay for new shoes and shoeing. But she also won’t take charity.” He stroked the mare’s starred forehead.
Jackson nodded. “Leave her here and I’ll get her fixed up this afternoon.”
Hank studied him. “What about payment?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Mrs. Simmons isn’t going to take charity.”
Jackson rubbed the horse’s back. “Does she know May Bell needs shoes?”
“I haven’t mentioned it,” Hank admitted.
He grinned. “Then don’t. If she asks, you can tell her you brought her over here to be shod, but if she doesn’t ask, then don’t tell.”
Hank nodded. “I knew you were a good man.”
Jackson ignored the comment. “If she asks, tell her to come see me. In the meantime, I’ll think of some way to let her pay for the shoes. I’m sure Eliza will have some thoughts on the matter. I’ll ask her tonight.”
“Sounds good,” Hank agreed.
Carl ran back to them. He panted. “The sheriff’s on his way.”
Hank placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Good, son.”
Jackson walked back inside the smithy. Should he tell the sheriff about Glendale’s bandit problem in front of the other men? Or keep it between them? He wasn’t sure.
Groom by Arrangement Page 16