Jack sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how,” he said honestly.
Johansson nodded. “You’ve been gone for four years, Jack. Whatever happened is ancient history. Try starting over.”
Start over? Jack shook his head. Johansson couldn’t possibly understand that starting anew was impossible.
* * * *
Jack took his time finishing up a few last duties around the hospital and saying his goodbyes before making his way to find his mother and Rose. He had no idea what to say to either of them, and even less idea of what to do next. He had a wagon packed around back all ready for his move to Texas, but now his escape plan, his plan to give both himself and Rose freedom, was foiled. Frustrated, he shoved through the front door of the hospital and into the late afternoon sunshine.
Several patients and uniformed soldiers milled about the yard. A rider on horseback trotted down the dusty drive, and three orderlies unloaded a supply wagon off to the left of the stairs. Jack sighed, not quite able to believe he was leaving the war behind. It had consumed his life for so long it didn’t quite seem possible. He glanced around the yard and finally spotted Rose kneeling in the grass beside a ragtag soldier leaning against a tree. She wore a gentle smile and appeared to be changing the bandage on his arm. The sight surprised Jack, though he wasn’t certain why, and he took a moment to take her in.
A full skirt of pale blue pooled around her and a simple matching bodice sheathed her slender frame flawlessly. Sunlight glinted in the smooth blonde chignon fastened at the nape of her neck, and pink tinted her creamy cheeks. She was quite pretty… timelessly so… and he found himself trying to recall the exact color her eyes. Blue? Green? He was suddenly compelled to know. For just a moment, gazing at her across the yard, he saw her as he first had in the hospital, an attractive young woman. One he might like to court. Sitting in the grass, tending to the soldier she hardly fit the mental picture of evil temptress he’d harbored over the years. She just looked like a girl.
A wealth of uncertain emotions rushed through him as he started to descend the stairs. A woman stepped into his path, blocking his view of Rose. He stopped, and found himself face to face with his mother.
“Hello, Jack,” she said softly, tears welling in her eyes. “I can scarcely believe my eyes. When there was no word of you for so long your father believed the worst, but I knew it couldn’t be true.”
A twinge of guilt battled the four years of resentment he’d battled since the day of Paul’s funeral. He’d been too angry to write in the beginning, and as time had worn on he hadn’t known what to say. “You look well, Mother.” He descended the steps and allowed her to embrace him.
“As do you, my boy.” She drew back and cradled his face in her palms. Her watery eyes danced over his face. “I am so happy to see you again. When will you be able to come home?”
“Now,” he replied curtly, averting his eyes as his thwarted Texas plans flashed through his head. “Today was actually my last day here.” He stepped around his mother, and strode toward Rose. His mother fell into step beside him.
“How fortunate! We will have reason to celebrate tonight.”
Jack swallowed, uncertain how to respond. He couldn’t exactly tell his mother that he hadn’t planned to come home at all. Shifting his thoughts, he stepped behind Rose and stopped, surveying the bandage she’d secured to the young soldier’s arm. She’d done well, considerably better than the many of the nurses at the hospital, but he didn’t particularly care for the way she was smiling so sweetly at the other man, or the way the man gazed at her with the stars in his eyes. It only confirmed what he’d always suspected, she was nothing but a pretty light skirt, and now he was stuck with her. “Nice work,” he said gruffly, tone anything but complimentary.
She startled and turned to him. “Oh, Jack!” Her cheeks flushed in a rather charming show of innocence—Jack knew better. She struggled to stand, tripping over her skirt in the process.
Good manners won out on the urge to watch her tumble to the ground, and at the last moment he caught her arm beneath the shoulder and helped her to her feet.
“Thank you,” she murmured, dusting her skirt off and turning wide, round eyes up to him.
Blue eyes.
Startlingly blue.
The sunlight illuminated every sparkling facet of those incredibly beautiful eyes and for the space of a breath he forgot to be angry or suspicious. In an instant he was transported back to the moment he’d met her at Doc Harrison’s place. He’d thought her quite beautiful then as well. Strange how he’d all but forgotten that.
“Jack will be coming home tonight, Rose,” his mother interrupted excitedly. “Isn’t that wonderful.”
Rose blinked and then slid her eyes from his, breaking the reverent moment. “Yes, it is.” She backed away from him. “Will you be coming with us now?”
Jack mentally steeled himself. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want to be attracted to Rose. He didn’t want anything to do with Rose. Confusion swam in his head and a dull throb settled in behind his temple. “You two go on ahead. I have my own wagon. I’ll meet you out at the house in a little while.” Jack nodded to them both, turned curtly on a heel, and marched toward the back of the hospital.
“He doesn’t seem very happy to see us,” his mother’s voice followed.
“Give him some time, Catherine,” Rose responded softly. “He just needs to readjust.”
Time… Jack tensed. The only time he needed was a means to reverse it so he could have left for Texas a week ago.
Five
Nervous and out of sorts after the cold reunion with Jack earlier that afternoon, Rose paced her in-law’s two story house, knowing Jack could arrive at any time.
She dreaded his arrival.
She shouldn’t be so upset by his earlier reception. She didn’t know why she’d expected anything other than his absolute resentment, but… deep down, in places she liked to pretend didn’t exist, she’d hoped the years between them might have eased the pain of the past. If he was willing, she’d like to start anew. Give their marriage a real chance. But… a fresh beginning obviously wasn’t what Jack had in mind. Rose didn’t know what to do about it. Especially given that the two of them were stuck together.
“Jonathan!” Catherine called from the front room of the two-story house. “Come quickly, he’s home!”
Rose’s heart jumped clear into her throat. Mentally she steeled herself. “Stop being such a ninny,” she muttered, stepping in front of the hallway mirror and nervously smoothing a few errant wisps of hair. “Tonight can’t possibly be worse than this afternoon.” Sucking a steadying breath into her lungs she made her way to the front door.
Catherine, Jonathan, and her three-year-old son, Will, filed onto the porch ahead of her. Rose hesitated in the doorway, rather surprised by the sight of Jack perched atop a large covered wagon, steering a team of four draft horses up to the white-washed barn.
“Look at the big horses!” Will pointed excitedly.
“Why do you suppose he’s driving a rig like that?” Jonathan murmured.
Rose had a sinking suspicion that his mother and father may not like the reason.
Catherine waved her husband off and started down the porch steps. “Who cares what he’s driving so long as he’s driving it home!”
Jack drew the team to a halt and placed the brake on the wagon. Rose continued to hang back as his parents crossed the grassy yard with Will in tow. Catherine glowed with happiness and eagerly embraced her son for the second time that day. Jack’s mannerism appeared reserved to Rose, and her spirits sank even lower as he released his mother, turned and merely shook his father’s hand. She gulped, realizing just how deep Jack’s resentment ran.
Will approached Jack, tiling his head back to peer up at him. “Who are you?”
Catherine and Jonathan shared a look, and Rose knew what would come next. She panicked. Lifting her skirts, she rushed off the porch.
&nbs
p; “Well, son,” Jonathan began, “this is your—”
“Jack!” Rose interrupted, hurrying up to join them. “Will, I’d like you to meet Jack.”
Jack met her gaze, a glimmer of surprise, relief, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, gratitude softening his expression.
“And Jack,” Rose went on in a rush, “I’d like you to meet Will. William Paul Winters.”
Expression pained, Jack nodded and cleared his throat. “William Paul,” he whispered, shifting his gaze to the ground. After a long moment he tugged his brimmed at off and dropped to a knee in front of Will. He put his hand out, inviting the boy to shake it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Will.”
Will shook Jack’s hand, gleaming with pride at being treated like a grown up. “Are you a soldier?”
“I was,” Jack replied, remaining on Will’s level.
“Did you shoot people? Where’s your gun?”
The ghost of a smile quirked Jack’s lips. “I’m a doctor, you see, so mostly I patched up the boys who got shot.”
Will seemed to mull that over. “I wanna be a soldier someday,” he said seriously. “Like you and Granddad.”
Jack smiled. A kind and gentle smile that was just a little bit crooked, and softened the haggard lines of his face. It reminded Rose of the Jack she’d known before the war… before Paul’s untimely death. He reached out and ruffled Will’s hair before rising. “How would you and your granddad like to help me put those horses up.”
“Oh, yes!” Will’s face lit with excitement. He whipped his head around, looking up animatedly at Rose. “Mama, can I help?”
“Of course.” Rose smiled warmly in return. “Have fun and listen to Jack.” Her heart twisted as the three of them turned toward the wagon and Will reached up and slipped his little hand into Jack’s.
Jonathan motioned toward the hoses and loaded down wagon. “This is an impressive rig. What do you plan to do with it?”
Jack slowed and then stopped altogether. He released Will’s hand and washed a palm across his jaw. “Well, Pa, I plan to take it to Texas.”
“Texas?” his parents spat in unison.
“You can’t be serious.” Disbelief laced Catherine’s tone. “When do you plan to go?’
“Tomorrow or the next day.”
“You can’t take Will away from us,” his mother cried.
Jack shifted his gaze to Rose, his dark eyes drilling straight through her. “I have no intention of doing so. Will and Rose will remain here with you.”
Six
I’m a horse’s ass. Silently Jack berated himself as every flaw in his perfectly laid out plan evaporated.
Bitter tears openly streamed down his mother’s face. “You plan to leave us? Leave your wife? I don’t understand, Jack? Why? Why would you do this?”
Tense, Jack shifted his attention to Rose once again. He didn’t know why he kept looking to her. Didn’t quite understand the sense of betraying her that accompanied his announcement. Rose portrayed absolute calm. Her clear blue eyes fused with his, placid and unreadable. Jack found it a little unnerving.
“Catherine,” Rose said in a soft, commanding voice, “come in the house. We’ll finish getting dinner on the table while the men take care of the horses.” She grabbed his mother’s upper arm and tugged her toward the porch steps.
“Stop him, Jonathan,” his mother wailed. “Don’t let him do this. I can’t lose both my sons.”
Jack stared, unmoving, blood pounding in his ears as his mother disappeared into the house. He wanted to bolt. This ugly scene was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to start over and make his own life.
“Well, lads,” his father’s voice interrupted his heavy thoughts, “let’s see to those horses, shall we.”
“Why is Nana so upset?” Will’s little voice piped up.
“Believe it or not, William, she is upset because she’s so happy to see Jack.”
Heart heavy, Jack fell into step behind his father and Will.
Little Will shook his head. “Girls cry too much.”
Jonathan laughed out loud. “Get used to it, son.”
Wordlessly Jack and his father worked together unhitching the team and releasing them into the pasture while Will happily sat in the driver’s seat. Jack propped a foot on the bottom rung of the wooden fence, folding his arms over the top rail. The horses grazed peacefully, their tails lifting gently on the breeze. It was a soothing sight.
“I’m sorry, Jackie,” his father said in a gruff tone, joining him at the fence. “Forcing you into marriage all those years ago was wrong.”
Jack said nothing. His father’s realization came about four years too late.
“At the time your mother and I were so lost in grief we didn’t stop to consider your future.”
Jack remained silent as four years of quelled emotions rose up inside him.
“You left for the war so soon after Paul’s death that you never had the chance to grieve. Not really. But running away isn’t the answer, Jackie. Like it or not, you do have a duty to Rose and Will.”
“Don’t lecture me about duty.” Jack spun from the fence and stared up at the farmhouse. His home. A place that had become utterly alien to him. “I did my duty to Paul, to Rose and Will, you and mother, and the confederacy.” Jack trailed off, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts and emotions flowing through him. “I was never coming home,” he admitted. “I thought if I simply disappeared, let everyone think I was dead, it would be best for everyone. Will would have the protection of my name, and Rose would be free to have her own life.”
Disappointment and hurt flickered in his father’s eyes. “And you would be free of responsibility as well.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably. His father’s pointed words stripped any illusion of nobility from his plans.
“I will not speak of this conversation to your mother. She does not need to know the full truth of your plans.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you considered giving this marriage with Rose a fair go?”
Jack barked with sardonic laughter. “No woman ever gave me a second glance once Paul came into the picture.” Rose herself was evidence of that. “Married to Rose, I am doomed to spend my life in his shadow.
* * * *
Dinner proved to be a miserably tense affair. Rose scarcely tasted a bite of the glazed venison and she doubted if Catherine or Jonathan did either. Gauging Jack’s mood was impossible. He was polite enough, complimentary of the meal, and kept up a continuous stream of chatter with Will, but otherwise he said nothing of consequence. When dinner was over, he politely excused himself, and disappeared from the house.
Hours later, well after darkness had over taken the countryside, Jack had yet to return.
Tired of living in a perpetual state of limbo and uncertainty, Rose’s patience reached the boiling point. Grabbing a shawl from the hook by the back door, she was prepared to take matters into her own hands, and have it out with Jack once and for all. “Catherine,” she called, “I’m going for a walk. Would you listen for Will?”
“Certainly dear. I’m just reading.”
“Thank you.”
Rose slipped out the door, and hurried down the stairs at a brisk pace. She turned onto the dirt path leading toward the graveyard, certain she’d find Jack at Paul’s grave. Strange to think, but the last time she’d really spoken with Jack—her husband—was the day of Paul’s funeral.
Cool breeze tugged at the edge of her shawl as she crested the cemetery hill. She shivered, passing through the wrought iron gate, and instantly spotted a brooding figure standing over Paul’s grave. Drawing a shaky breath, she slowed a bit, the gravel crunching beneath her shoes as she approached.
“Hello, Rose,” Jack said without turning.
“I thought I might find you here,” she returned, keeping her tone even and gentle. She stopped a few feet from Jack, staring down at the tombstone. It was too dark to make out the engravin
g, but she knew the etching by heart.
“It’s been four years, and I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Jack said, finally turning to her. “Your little William reminds me so much of Paul it hurts. Will has his smile, his mannerisms.”
Rose smiled with bittersweet emotion. “It breaks my heart to know he’ll never meet his son.”
“Did you love my brother?” Jack asked suddenly.
“Of course,” she blurted, surprised by the question. “At least I think I did. It all happened so fast, and with the war looming it seemed everyone was in a rush to fall in love.” She reached out to smooth her fingertips over the top of the cold gray stone. “Sometimes I hate him for leaving me, but most days I wonder if I’ll ever be able to move on.”
Jack scoffed. “You had no trouble moving on to me.”
Rose blanched at the cruel statement, but forced herself to remain calm. “Jack,” she said in earnest, taking a step toward him. “I know what you must think of me, but the truth is I have no wish to hold you in a marriage against your will. You never intended to come home, I see that now, and I don’t blame you for it.”
Shock flashed across his face, evident even in the meager moonlight. “What do you want, Rose? What are you suggesting?”
“Take Will and me to Texas with you.”
“What?” Jack shook his head, obviously believing the suggestion to be ludicrous. “You can’t be serious.”
“Just hear me out, Jack. Once we’re there I want nothing from you. No one will know us and we can secure a divorce without any embarrassment to your family or Paul’s memory. Your parents have been wonderful to me, but I need a fresh start.”
Jack fixed her with a hard stare. “Y-you want a divorce?”
Rose shrugged. “My father died a couple years ago and left me some money. It’s enough for a good start for William and me. Take us West and you and I will part ways on our own terms. No family pressures and no guilt.”
Rose sensed Jack’s dark gaze boring straight through her, as though considering her in a new light. “Very well. We’ll leave in three days’ time.”
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