But Draven was a hard man. He’d have his say. Jack would have his as well. He wasn’t letting Draven or any man take Birdie away from him. Only Birdie could take herself away from him.
CHAPTER 15
A gust of frigid air, rasping like a saw in a forest, ripped Penny’s veil out of Birdie’s hand. Like a white flag, it fluttered out of reach above her. Jack caught it and drew it down to her. The wind rose again, grumbling and grinding, whipping Jack’s tawny lion’s mane around the determined planes of his face.
She leapt to grab hold of him. An invisible force flung him heavenward. She grasped only cold air.
The low flame of a lantern threw the shadow of her outstretched arm over the bedroom door. Her hand dropped to clutch the blankets covering her legs. She drew them up to her chin and curled into a shivering ball on the mattress where she’d fallen asleep waiting for Jack’s return.
The bridal veil, now sewn and ready to wear, remained downstairs with Penny’s name on a note. The gift might as well have flown away. She’d never see Penny wear it. Other than Denver, she’d never remained long enough in one place to see her creations worn on any day, let alone a wedding day.
If she were lucky enough to marry, she wouldn’t care what she wore as long as Jack stood by her side.
Where was he? Why hadn’t he come home?
The grating sound that’d tormented her dreams rose again. Not from above but below. Jack had shown her how to bar the front and rear doors with a plank as sturdy as it was heavy. It’d take a saw or an axe to break in.
She couldn’t allow any intruders to corner her upstairs.
She leapt out of bed. The icy air made her gasp. Donning her coat over the nightgown muted her shivers. She didn’t pause to button it up. She put her mother’s scissors in her pocket, grabbed Jack’s father’s rifle, and opened the bedroom door so slowly it had no chance to creak.
Even though she had only one direction to go—a few strides down the hall to the stairs—her hand went to her father’s compass on the chain around her neck.
Oh Papa, you would’ve approved of Jack.
She had trouble believing Jack’s father would’ve been as accepting of her. But if the man shared any similarities with Jack and Gus, he might have proved her wrong. While standing outside the dry good store, Gus had mentioned his son’s name very briefly while dwelling on the women who’d graced his life.
Neither Gus or Jack spoke openly about George Peregrine. Why?
The grating sound stopped. Was that good or bad?
Even wearing a pair of woolen socks, her feet complained with every step on the chilly floorboards. She should’ve worn her boots, but they’d make too much noise. Nom de Dieu, she wasn’t thinking straight! She should’ve hung them by their laces over her arm. Without them, she wouldn’t get far outside in the snow.
Zut de zut! She still wasn’t thinking straight. She’d promised she wouldn’t leave Jack’s grandfather unprotected. No running tonight. Time to make a stand.
A light glowed ahead. The intruders were inside. She raised the rifle to her shoulder. At the end of the hall, she chanced a peek down the stairs and into the carpentry shop.
The silhouette of a tall man with wild hair stood at the bottom step. The same man who’d opened his front door to her on Christmas Day.
“Jack. You’re home!” She set her rifle against the wall and raced down the stairs. “How did you get in?”
“Gus let me in.”
A fine protector she was. “Why didn’t I hear?”
“He said you were asleep.” When his gaze traveled over her, a wave of heat replaced the cold. “We have a system. A snowball, or several, thrown against his bedroom wall.”
“I heard a noise as well.” She glanced around his shop. A lantern lit the main worktable, but consigned the corners to shadows. They were alone.
“I’m sorry I woke you. I was building more shelves for your fabrics.”
She felt her eyebrows rise in surprise as her gaze came back to him. “At this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He shifted his stance and grimaced. “My body aches from tramping around in the cold.”
“Did you find the miners?”
“No, but everyone I asked readily joined the search. Well, everyone except Percy. He objected and called it foolish. We all ignored him.” Jack grinned. “See? The town helped you instead of listening to a long-time resident.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “Because we take threats seriously and… We have good taste?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I meant, why is this Percy fellow so different?”
Jack shrugged. “He has a reputation for wanting to be in charge. The search wasn’t his idea. Neither were the brides, but he talks like the plan originated with him now. Could be Percy acts only to impress his uncle who’s a member of the railroad board.”
“Did you talk to Draven about me?”
He shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t do that without you by my side. And it’s too late to visit him tonight. You need your sleep. Go upstairs. I’ll keep watch down here while I work. In the morning, we’ll—”
“Non.” Tomorrow would come too soon and then she and Jack would go tell Draven her real name. After that she’d have no guarantee she’d see Jack again. She didn’t want tonight—and being alone with Jack—to end. She gestured toward his worktable. “May I see your creation?”
“It’s far from finished.” He led the way with a limp more pronounced than any she’d seen.
She followed closely, her hands longing to comfort him. Instead, she ran her fingers over the fresh cut wood. Her shelves half-formed. Another gift for her. “It’s lovely.” Her hands drifted to his tools, some still warm from his exertions. She kept moving, studying by touch and sight his woodwork in varying stages of completion around the room.
Jack followed her silently, holding the lantern high to light her way, until she stopped in a corner where wooden legs hung from hooks on the ceiling.
“Not a pretty sight.” His grim tone made her halt a hand’s-breadth from the closest one.
“Why do you say that?” She pressed her palm over her heart, trying to calm her rush of anxiety. “You’ve made them perfectly. They’re—”
“Necessary.”
Indignation for his creations made her spin to face him. “Oui, et belles aussi. Very beautiful.”
“You’d feel differently if you saw—” His entire body stiffened. “You should go upstairs.”
“So should you.”
A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. “Too many memories hound me tonight.”
“Lorena.”
“Her memory has shrunk to a cautionary tale. A whisper of what not to do.”
“And your father? You and Gus never speak of him.”
“Because of my—” Jack rubbed his thigh as he leaned heavily against the nearest wall. “He died in the war.”
“The one between the States? Even north of the border the talk of it was endless. A terrible loss for both the south and north.”
“Too many died. And not only from gunfire.” He stared at the wooden legs hanging beside them.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“A cannon blast spooked our mules.” A flash of pain pinched his brow. The torment assaulted his countenance again and again, like explosions from his past. Until his agony remained deeply ingrained on his face. He spoke haltingly as he continued. “They—bolted down a ravine. The transport wagon tipped over. Trapped my father beneath. I crawled under. One wheel was on his back, slowly squeezing the life out of him. I wasn’t strong enough to pull him free.”
She stepped as close as she could without touching him. “I’m so sorry, Jack.” When he didn’t retreat, she raised her hand and gently caressed the haggard lines on his face.
His hand covered hers and pressed her palm to his cheek. “All I could do was hold onto him.” A shudder shook him. “Until the wagon shifted and rolled again. It c
rushed my leg. I woke up in a field tent the next day. Gus told me he tried to stop them.”
A chill skittered up her spine. “Them?”
“The doctors. They cut off my leg. I knew they would. With so many injured, they only had time to save officers’ limbs.”
Tears blurred her eyes. “Life is cruel.”
“I’d have given mine gladly, if I could’ve saved my father. He wasn’t the easiest man to be around after my mother died. But he always put his family’s well-being above his. When Max and I joined the war, he didn’t say a word. He just went with us.”
“And Grandpa too.”
A smile tugged his lips. “He’s the toughest of us all.” Pride deepened his voice. “He and Max used their bare hands to dig me out from under the wagon.”
“I’d like to meet your brother.”
Jack’s smile vanished. “He won’t come back to Noelle. He said my need to keep our family together was smothering him.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry I used that word.”
The warm kiss he pressed against her palm made her toes curl in delight. “I asked for honesty and you gave it to me. You spoke the truth. Lorena said the same. Many times. But she waited years before she left.”
“Sounds like she never opened her eyes to see what she was missing.”
“She said she missed our carefree youth. We were childhood sweethearts. She honored her pledge and waited for me to come home from the war. When I explained how I’d lost my leg, she still agreed to marry me. Then she saw my stump and accused me of dishonesty.”
“But you told her!”
“Sometimes words are not enough. I should’ve shown her. Instead, I rushed her to the altar. We hurried everything after that. We never lingered over any intimacy, and she refused to sleep in a bed with me. Said she didn’t want my half leg touching her.”
“You are well rid of her.” As soon as she spat out the words, guilt pricked her.
“You look like you’ve bit into a sour apple. When I first saw you in La Maison, you held me captive with the way you studied the room, and then me, so intently. I felt the same as I followed you around my workshop. I’m always wondering where your thoughts are leading you.”
“I’ve concluded it’s disrespectful to speak harshly of the dead, but I’ve never felt more strongly about something I’ve said. You deserve better, Jack.” Better than Lorena and better than me.
He shrugged. “And now all I have is Gus.”
“Your brother will come back to you, in time. And tonight, we have each other.” She glanced toward the door leading to the office. “I’ll fetch a dress and work beside you.”
He released her hand and retreated a step. His breath hissed between his teeth.
Her gaze went to his leg. “You said your body hurt from walking in the cold. You meant your leg, oui?”
“It gives many pains. Some are like phantoms. Memories of before and during its loss. I must have been half-awake. Burying myself in the physical distraction of labor is the only thing that gets me through the days and nights.”
“My sewing helps when I miss my family. We are well matched in this.”
“But we cannot hide behind our work forever.” He raised his hand. It was his turn to touch her face. He didn’t stop there. His fingers caressed her hair from the roots to the ends that fell unbound to her waist. “Your hair is as soft as your skin. Softer than any of your fabrics. I couldn’t understand this irresistible lure when I tried to organize your belongings after Gus scattered them around our office. Then you knocked on my door and walked into my life.”
“The silk, the chiffon, the velvet,” she whispered. “Everyone enjoys touching them.”
“They hold no allure without you. Being near you has become as vital as breathing. I feared it’d be thus.” His fingers slipped through her hair to cradle the back of her head. He pulled her closer. “I cannot stop touching you.”
His eyes glowed like molten gold as he lowered his mouth to hers. She closed her eyes and let herself fall into his all-encompassing warmth. His kiss was hot and persuasive. He stole her breath and her heart.
She’d never been happier for a theft. She grasped the front of his shirt as her world shifted with her surrender. This man was her home.
He wrapped his arm around her and held her steady. His mouth left hers to whisper in her ear. “I’m rushing you into this.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.”
“What if you have regrets in the morning?”
“I will not, but I suspect I cannot convince you with words. I need to show you. Will you walk with me upstairs?”
CHAPTER 16
Birdie held tight to his hand as she led him up the stairs. She had a solid grip for a woman with such small fingers. His hand engulfed hers and even a step above him he could still look over her dazzling crown of raven hair.
A light shone from the open door of his bedroom. His heart missed a beat. “Did you sleep in my—?” His question was answered when she halted in the doorway.
She’d made a wonderful mess of his bedcovers. The faint depression where her round bottom had rested made his mouth turn dry.
“You said I should sleep in your brother’s empty room, but I—” Her fingers tightened around his. “Grandpa said the choice was mine.”
“He’s right. In our home, you’re free to go wherever you wish.” He swallowed roughly. She was free to leave him. “What did you want to show me?”
She tugged on his hand, but he couldn’t move. When her fingers released his, he let her go, and she pointed to her dress draped over the chair by his bed. “Will you fetch my clothing for me?”
He strove to mute his limp as he walked directly in her line of vision. As soon as he scooped up the dress, he froze once again. The fabric was soft and silky, but his life felt hard and bleak without her hand in his.
The door clicked shut behind him, and his heart started racing like a wagon barreling downhill with no brakes.
“You said you’d keep me warm if ever I slept at Peregrines. When I woke without you near, I was very cold.” She pulled her dress from his hands and tossed it back onto the chair.
“What are you doing?” His calves hit the bed as he tried not to brush up against her in the cramped room. If he touched her again, he couldn’t guarantee he’d have the strength not to pull her down on the bed with him. “I thought you wanted—”
“Only to get you inside this room.” She raised her chin and held his gaze without blinking. “Take off your trousers, Jack Peregrine, and let me show you who I truly am.”
He clutched the bed’s headboard to steady himself. He couldn’t have heard her right.
She watched him with her familiar unreadable expression and tilted head. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But you still hesitate. I understand. To remove one’s clothing is a final act of trust.” She gave him an impish smile. “It is difficult to run away when nude. Very conspicuous and cold.” Something flickered in her eyes that made him think she was remembering a time that was far from humorous, but she held on to her smile.
“What are you thinking?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I have my own phantoms.”
“Will you share them with me?”
Her gaze locked on his bed. “Two years after I fled the Cariboo gold fields, I fell to a youthful temptation of the heart. Before I could consummate my mistake, I learned my suitor craved more than me. He took the clothes I had willingly removed and my sewing chatelaine which I carried even then. Next, he collected the bedsheets, the curtains, and any scrap of fabric in the room. He left and locked the door behind him.”
He squeezed the headboard so hard the wood creaked. His voice echoed the noise in a curt growl. “What did you do?” If he could’ve reached across time, he’d have wrung the man’s neck.
She wrinkled her nose. “Sadly, I must admit I curled up in a ball of misery. For how long I do not know.” A wry sm
ile replaced her grimace. “But then he did me a favor. From his side of the door, he told me I’d remain naked until I gave him a satisfactory answer concerning the location of my brothers’ gold. His honesty set me free.”
He scowled in displeasure. “For all my cravings for the truth, I’d rather he favored you with the return of your scissors.”
Her brows arched as she nodded. “Me too. But all I had was an empty room. I ran my fingers over every surface and crack, searching for a way to escape.” She exhaled a relieved-sounding sigh. “And got lucky. A needle must have fallen from my sewing case.”
“What could you do with something so small?”
She leaned toward him like a conspirator. “I surprised him. When he opened the door, I was ready. I pricked the sensitive parts of his body.”
Jack couldn’t help but flinch and cover his groin with his free hand. “He deserved worse.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “I meant his ears and neck! He was after all still clothed.” A flush stained her pale cheeks. “I finally reclaimed my garments and scissors from the floor outside the door. I didn’t stop to dress until I was clear of the town and hidden in some leafy—and therefore lovely—dogwood bushes.”
He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding while he surmised the rest of her story. “And you continued running and haven’t stopped.” She’d run from him on Christmas Day when he’d put his arm out to keep her with him. But she’d come back the next day and every day following. “Why do you stay in Noelle?”
She went very still. “Temptation.”
She’d used the word to describe the wretch who’d held her prisoner. A temptation of the heart. Anger and hope warred in his. Had her heart been tempted again?
“Did you love him?”
“I thought so, and that he loved me. It was the reason I forgave his many impatiences that resulted in unkind remarks followed by pleas for forgiveness and sympathy. I ignored all the signs that he was digging for more than me.”
The Calling Birds_The Fourth Day Page 10