by Jillian Hart
You do not want the comfort of his arms, she told herself. You can do this just fine on your own. She ignored the sheltering plane of his chest and tried to forget how it felt to lay her cheek there, above where his heart beat. She focused on buttoning the coat, but her fingers didn’t want to cooperate. She fumbled, aware of his nearness pulling at her as if nothing catastrophic had happened. As if it wasn’t over between them. Finally she fastened the last button and tugged the sash around her waist.
“All set?” he asked.
When she nodded, he opened the door. Warmish air breezed over her but she didn’t breathe it in. She didn’t know if she were breathing at all as she stumbled onto the porch. The sun shone too brightly, tearing her eyes as she took the steps without waiting for Austin. She heard the door click shut, his boots drummed on the porch boards and squished in the greening grass next to her.
“Let me help you up.” He seized her elbow, a man determined to do his duty. She didn’t know how to stop him and she didn’t have the strength to argue, so she let him. She collapsed onto the seat, stared at the dashboard as he tucked the driving robes around her. She heard Calvin blow out his breath in a horsy whoosh and stomp his foot, impatient to be off.
“It’s okay, buddy. We’ll be on the road, just wait.” Austin climbed aboard, took up the reins and released the brake. The vehicle rocked forward, rolling down the driveway and onto a residential street.
When the town gave way to the forested countryside, she didn’t notice. She was vaguely aware of the sunlight dimming as it hid behind a cloud, the green smell of growing grass and the shadow of the trees falling across the road. A smart woman would be making plans to do the right thing. It’s what she had to do. Austin had married her for the child that was now gone.
He sat beside her, stoic and motionless, like a mountain veiled in a winter storm. The distance between them felt immeasurable. She didn’t dare look up and see what emotions were carved into his face. She’d failed him in all ways and he knew it.
After a while, the wagon stopped. She stared at the new tufts of grass poking up in the yard as she slipped off the seat. Not waiting for him to help her, she gathered her skirt hems, swished up the steps and into the house, where warmth and light greeted her. The front room had been tidied of all evidence of baby things and the door to the baby’s room was shut tight.
“Willa.” Evelyn swept into sight, wearing a pretty apron over her beautiful spring dress. “Oh, my dear, come. I’ve got your bed all ready.”
“Th-thank you.” The words felt wrenched out of her. Genuine caring for this woman, her sister, hurt like a fresh wound as she slipped out of her coat. She tried not to notice the man who caught the garment for her. She tried to ignore her body’s yearning for him. She hated to think how much he was hurting. He’d lost dreams, too.
She let Evelyn lead her away. Every step she took felt like an end that had no beginning.
And never would.
* * *
Austin hung her coat and listened to the sounds of Evelyn settling Willa into bed. He stood in the entry way, too disheartened to move. She barely responded to him at the doctor’s. She hadn’t made eye contact with him once. She hadn’t said a single word on the drive home. He knew she was grieving. He was, too. But he wanted her to turn to him, not away.
“She’ll need rest.” Evelyn closed the bedroom door behind her. “I’ll bring her meal to her on a tray. Do you want me to set a plate for you at the table?”
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t think right now. His brain was in a fog of uncertainty. The chasm between him and Willa had widened until it felt as if there was no end to it. Could it ever be bridged again? He rubbed a hand over his face, hurting in too many ways to count. “I should stay here in case she needs me.”
“Likely she will rest and nap. It’s what she needs to heal.” Evelyn came to him, and her touch to his arm was pure loving kindness. “I know you want to be here for her, but she wants to be alone right now.”
“Is that best for her? She’s suffered a loss. She needs family.” And me, he thought, wishing with all his might. Please let her need me.
“Why don’t you go to the livery? No, don’t argue with me. Just think it over while you’re eating. I’ll get the meal on the table after I see to Willa.” Compassion shone in her gentle gaze. Compassion…and pity.
She wasn’t telling him everything. He knew it in his gut. “She doesn’t want to see me, does she?”
“She didn’t say it like that.”
“No, of course not. Willa is too kind and gentle for that, but it’s what she meant.” He clamped his molars together, tension roaring through him. He didn’t know how to stop Willa from pushing away from him. He wanted to charge into their room, gather her up in his arms and hold her until her pain eased. But would she let him? He hated not knowing how to fix this or how to take away her agony.
“She was up a good part of the night. She needs to catch up on her sleep.” Evelyn looked so certain. “She’s exhausted. Things will be better in the morning.”
I can’t wait for morning. He bit back the words because he knew Evelyn wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t sense the way he could that something was terribly wrong. This was more than grief. Willa had a right to her grief. In fact, he shared it. But his heart felt cut off from hers. It felt as though if he didn’t reach out to her right now and repair the damage then he never could. It would be too late and they would live out their days in polite distance, never able to experience closeness again. What if their chance to find love was gone?
No, he had to fix this now if he could. There had to be a way. He fisted his hands, ready to move mountains if he had to. He’d lost enough. He couldn’t lose Willa, too.
“Austin.” Evelyn caught him, her loving plea stopping him. “I know you love her, but trust me on this. Let her be.”
Air whooshed out of him as he nodded. He hung his head in defeat. He understood then what Evelyn was saying. The fight was already over. She stared at the bedroom door, shut against him. Was she lying there able to hear his words? Was she listening in, knowing how he felt about her? Anguish jolted through him like lightning and he turned on his heel. He needed fresh air. He needed space. He needed some way to stop feeling so much.
“Please pack my meal to go.” He grabbed his hat off its peg and opened the door. “I’ll be at the livery if you need me.”
“All right.” Evelyn nodded as if she thought he was doing the right thing, but her eyes filled with apology. It couldn’t be easy for her standing in the middle.
“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, wrestling to keep his heartbreak from sounding in his voice. “Take good care of Willa for me.”
“You know I will.”
He stepped into the sunshine, so bright it hurt his eyes. He blinked hard, walking fast and sure away from the house. New grass sprung beneath his boots as he made a beeline for the wagon. Calvin nickered, instantly concerned, chocolate-brown eyes full of silent questions.
He didn’t know what to tell the horse. He patted the gelding’s nose and leaned his forehead against the animal’s sun-warmed neck. Nothing could comfort you like an old friend.
“Austin?” Evelyn padded down the steps, her skirts swaying around her. “Here’s your lunch.”
“Thanks.” He lifted his head and patted Calvin’s nose a final time. The gelding nickered deep in his throat, an encouraging sound. Austin took the lunch tin from his sister, not that he was hungry, and climbed into the wagon. He could see the bedroom window as he snapped Calvin’s reins. Those cheerful yellow curtains were closed tight so he knew Willa wasn’t watching or wondering about him as he drove away.
An afternoon of work didn’t make a dent in the hole that had become his heart. Folks dropped by to check on him—his brothers, the reverend and even Mrs. Pole—and while he appre
ciated their kindness it was another reminder of what he’d lost. He’d loved the baby. He loved Willa. Loneliness settled around him like a cocoon, greater than it ever had before. Charlie had stopped by to fetch him, on Evelyn’s orders. She was still at the cabin, making supper for everyone. He’d declined and worked until dark.
He recognized Berry’s buggy parked in front of the barn when he pulled Calvin to a stop. Berry must have stopped in to relieve Evelyn. He knelt to pick a few wildflowers from the grass in the yard. The night sky stretched above and he could see every star overhead. Those distant lights twinkled, unchanging, as he tripped up the steps and opened the door.
“Hey.” Berry blinked, sitting up on the couch. “Goodness, I drifted off. I can heat up some leftovers, if you’re hungry.”
“No, thanks. It was good of you to stay.” He hung up his hat and coat, grateful for the shadows hiding him.
“My pleasure. Delia will be over first thing in the morning.” Berry stood and scooped up her sewing basket. “Willa is looking much better.”
“I’m glad.” He squared his shoulders. “Did she ask for me?”
“No.” Apology rang in her tone. “Maybe things will be better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Maybe.”
He waited until Berry was gone before putting the flowers in a small tin cup and adding water. He banked the fires, locked up the house and headed for bed. He put the cup on Willa’s bedside table.
A faint stream of stardust slipped between the curtains to fall over her with a silvery, majestic light. His beautiful bride. Endless tenderness welled up, overflowing as he watched her. She slept on her side, her dark hair a cascade over her slender shoulders and her white pillow slip. She’d chosen to lay at the very edge of the mattress, leaving most of the bed untouched. It seemed she wanted the most possible distance between them once he’d climbed into bed with her.
At a loss, he took care not to make a noise as he disrobed and readied for bed. He slid beneath the covers, keeping to his side, knowing this would be a night where she wouldn’t come to him. She would not ease into his arms and rest her cheek upon his chest. Heartbroken, he closed his eyes.
Sleep did not come.
Chapter Twenty
When she opened her eyes, she saw the cheerful yellow flowers peeking over the rim of the small tin cup. A fistful of buttercups opened their blossoms to the rays of light falling all around the closed curtains. Sunbeams, as if determined to find their way, crept around the edges of the ruffles, squeezed beneath the curtain hem and streamed through the gap between the curtain and the wall, filling the room with light. Unstoppable light.
She levered up on her elbow, blinking against the brightness. How had Austin known? Those were her favorite flowers. She blinked, waiting while the dregs of sleep faded and her mind cleared. Watching those yellow blossoms shine along with the light almost made her wish she could forget her plan. The plan she’d made yesterday on her ride home from the doctor’s. Her plan was the only remaining kindness she could show Austin.
Austin. Tenderness warmed the cold places within her as she slowly sat up in bed. The covers rustled, too loud in the silent room. No noise penetrated the wall. Was no one home? It was early. Perhaps Austin had already left for work and Delia, who was promised to come, had not yet arrived.
No matter. That would save her the difficulty of convincing Delia to go home. What she needed to do this morning was best done alone.
It took all her inner strength to push off the bed and take the first step toward the closet. Little pieces seemed to break off her heart as she opened the door and pulled out her old dresses. Their wash-worn fabric felt familiar against her fingertips as she placed the clothes on the foot of the bed and began folding. She chose her most serviceable one to wear before going up on tiptoe to yank down her battered satchel from the top shelf.
She left her new dresses hanging. Perhaps they would fit Austin’s next wife or Evelyn, after her baby was born. If sorrow burrowed deeper in at the notion of leaving the women who’d been so welcoming and caring to her, she had to ignore it. She had to set aside her feelings. She had to do the right thing. Austin deserved that. She owed him that.
The woman who gazed back at her in the mirror looked different from the one who’d arrived here. As she washed, brushed and braided, she thought of the gifts Austin had given her, especially the intangible ones. She would take with her the knowledge that good men were more common than she’d thought. That, at times, real life could be better than any fairy tale.
The way Austin had treasured her helped heal the hurt Jed had caused. Because of Austin, she’d belonged to a real family. Because of him, she could see all that marriage could be. As she grabbed her satchel off the bed, she was only sorry that she hadn’t been able to give him all he deserved. But maybe in leaving, she could make way for that to happen.
Her fingers felt numb when she reached for the doorknob. Warm air met her when she stepped into the front room. The fire had died down—the hearth had gone dark—but the sunshine tumbling through the windows warmed the room nicely. The curtains had been tied back, crisp and bright throughout the room. She’d been right. They did make the house cheerful. It would be hard walking away from this lovely place—her home.
Don’t think about it, she told herself. Just do it. Just go. She steeled her spine as she crossed the room and didn’t dare take one look back. She folded up her old coat and tied on her bonnet before slipping into her patched shoes, tying them well. The clock’s steady tick-tock echoed in the stillness. It was nine-thirty. If she hitched up the mare and left her at the livery, then she could catch the ten o’clock train. This time she wouldn’t be traveling by passenger car, but it would be easy enough to sneak into one of the freight cars. She didn’t care where she was going, only that she was gone.
The warm, early May morning greeted her like a summer’s kiss. Birds chirped and flitted from porch post to fence post as she eased down the steps. Gripping her satchel tightly, she blinked in the radiance of the day. Green grass spread like a carpet at her feet, where new blades waved in a temperate breeze. Greening trees shaded the edge of the lawn, where the cow grazed. How could such a sad day be so beautiful?
Rosie lifted her head, her jowls working as she chewed. Her brown bovine eyes twinkled a friendly hello. A robin hopped from the fence rail to the ground, head cocked, hopping along as he searched for a midmorning snack. A jackrabbit froze in the tufts of wild grasses near the corner fence post, nose twitching. When she took another step, the rabbit darted away, tail bobbing.
Every step she took felt like loss. Rosie leaned over the fence, mooing merrily, and the little black mare eased cautiously into sight. Timid brown eyes searched Willa’s, as the horse put one cautious step in front of the other. The wind rippled the silky ebony mane and sunshine polished her velvet coat. The animal ventured closer, her long legs poised as if ready to fly at any frightening movement.
“Thank you for being such good friends to me,” she told the cow and the horse.
Rosie nosed in, bumping Willa’s hand to beg for a pat. Hard to resist those sweet pleading eyes. She rubbed the cow’s warm nose, ignoring the hard squeeze of sorrow in her chest. She was going to miss Rosie very much.
A horse’s tentative nicker caught her attention as the black mare inched up to the fence. Star lifted her nose over the fence rail, offering it for petting. Willa couldn’t believe her eyes. Air trapped in her lungs as she transferred her hand from Rosie’s nose to the mare’s. The horse tensed but she didn’t move away when Willa’s fingertips touched that silky-soft muzzle. Her heart gave a little flip as she stroked in gentle caresses.
“You’re such a good girl. Such a good, sweet girl.” She choked out the words. Big chocolate eyes met hers, framed by long dark lashes. Hope shone there, tentative but amazing. After all Star had been through, she found a wa
y to open her heart again. “I’d never thought you would let me do that.”
“I had faith.” Austin’s voice thundered behind her, deep and rich, a treasured sound. Her body responded with a honey-sweet richness that spilled into her blood, making her heart beat faster and harder.
Oh, no. What was he doing home? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, gathering her courage for what must be done. She squared her shoulders, hoping she had the strength to look him in the eye, see there was no caring left for her and end this the right way. But how? How was she ever going to recover from having to leave him?
“What are you doing up?” His voice sounded nearer. His boots crushed the grass, making his way from the barn. “I was just coming in to check on you. It’s such a nice day, I thought the animals might like to stretch their legs in the pasture.”
“Yes, so I see.” She faced him with her chin set and her spine straight.
This would be the last time she would see him, so she drank him in. She memorized each detail she’d grown to adore. The way his dark hair tousled in the breeze, thick and silky beneath his Stetson’s brim. The flash of blue in his expressive eyes, the fullness of his heart. The handsome planes and angles of his face that spoke of integrity and kindness. The confident, easy stride that brought him closer.
All she wanted to do was to press into his steely arms and get as close to him as she could. Until there was nothing between them.
Until they were one.
She saw the exact moment when his gaze fell to the satchel in her hand. She watched the smile die on his lips. The sparkle faded from his eyes. His step faltered. He froze, staring at her across the expanse of rippling grass, his jaw slacking in surprise. Hurt washed across his features, stark and undisguised.