The Fire of Home (A Powell Springs Novel)

by Harrington, Alexis

  Amy pushed a strand of hair behind her ear with a shaking hand.

  Jessica nudged him with her elbow and he let out a long, exasperated sigh.

  Amy swallowed, wishing she could sit down but knowing she couldn’t. She had to stand before her judges. “Then you went back east to school with the promise that you’d come home and join his practice. Except you didn’t. You kept stalling. You stayed in New York to work for the public health department, and I decided that you didn’t deserve Cole and couldn’t give him the kind of domestic life he deserved. So I sent you that telegram.”

  “Ah, yes—the telegram,” Cole said. “Wasn’t that a great day? After I received mine from Jess, I went to Tilly’s and got so drunk he wouldn’t let me sit in the saloon any longer. He put me on his back porch in the rain with a bucket and an old horse blanket.”

  There was no need to rehash that particular detail. Spiteful, spoiled, and angry, Amy had forged a telegram to send to Jessica, making it look as if it had come from Cole. In it, she’d written that he wanted Jessica for his wife but he refused to wait one more day. Jessica, furious and hurt, had wired him back and told him not to wait. Then Amy had begun her campaign to win Cole. Shortly after, she wrote to Jessica to report that he was courting her.

  But Amy had not won the prize she believed she had. Although she had anticipated a proposal, she knew that Cole did not care about her the way he loved Jessica.

  “When you discovered what I’d done, and Adam came calling on me at Mrs. Donaldson’s house, we decided to run away together. Socially, we were both ruined in Powell Springs. And we were both cowards.”

  Her motive now sounded so shallow and trivial, it was no better than the feeble excuse of an adolescent. But she was forthright and candid. “If it helps at all, I believe I paid for my disloyalty many times over when I ran away with Adam. You probably know that he beat me for the majority of our marriage. Somehow, I was fortunate enough not to lose any teeth or break any bones in my face. He did break my ribs, though, and this arm, twice. I visited Dan Parmenter to file for divorce a few weeks ago, and while he was doing preliminary research for my case, he learned that Adam and I were never legally married. I didn’t know it. Adam performed some kind of rain dance in his office the night we left, but no papers were signed or filed. I could have left anytime. I just didn’t realize it.

  “Saying that I’m sorry isn’t much, considering what I did. But you are all the family I have. To be cast adrift alone in the world with no one to turn to is the most desolate feeling on earth. Jess, you and I would have had this conversation the night you invited me to dinner. I dressed up and walked to the hotel. But when I got there, I saw Adam in the lobby and I panicked.”

  She paused and swallowed.

  “If you find mercy in your hearts for me, I will be most grateful. If you can’t, I understand.” She turned to her sister, who was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “Now if it’s all right with you, Jess, I’d like to get this thing off my arm.”

  Cole, still as handsome as she remembered him, with his rugged, slightly wild appearance, unfolded his arms and approached Amy. He sighed, kissed her on the cheek, and walked out the door. She shot a glance at Jess, who nodded. “It will be all right,” she said in a near whisper. “He won’t say it, but he’s forgiving you.”

  “And you?”

  “Of course I do. You are my sister, and in the end everything worked out, even better than I had hoped.”

  Jess went about cutting off the bandages and removing the splints. She moved those healing hands over the bones, gently, checking for proper alignment. “How does it feel?”

  Very gingerly, Amy flexed her wrist. “Kind of stiff. And a little tender.”

  “Take it easy with it. No lifting or chopping kindling, that kind of thing.”

  “No, I know better.”

  “And your chin?” She leaned in for a closer look. “The bruise is practically gone. Did the inside of your mouth heal?”

  Amy nodded.

  Suddenly, Jessica threw her arms open and enfolded her in a warm, loving embrace. Her scent was familiar, vanilla and carbolic. Anyone else would think it was a wretched combination, but Amy would know her sister anywhere by that smell alone. “Despite what happened between us, it makes my heart ache to think of you helpless against that bastard’s abuse. I have missed you so much. And you need to meet Margaux. I want her to know her aunt.”

  The tears flowed again, this time in joy and relief. The situation was like Amy’s broken wrist. It wasn’t 100 percent, but with time and care, it would be good again.

  Jessica closed the office and gave Amy a ride back to the house. “We’ll talk soon. And we’ll have dinner at the hotel, all of us.”

  Amy smiled and nodded, and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Yes, we will.” She got out and walked up her front steps, her heart feeling lighter than it had for a long time. Taking out her key, she opened the door and caught the whiff of a meal. When she came in, she found Bax sitting at the dining room table alone, eating what looked like roast beef.

  He glanced up and went back to his dinner. “When is the new boarder moving in?” he asked around a bite of roast.

  “She went back to Portland this afternoon. There won’t be any more boarders.”

  He poked at the green peas rolling around on the plate. “Yeah? Why not? I thought you wanted the money—and a new life.”

  She pulled out a chair next to him and sat down.

  “You’ll have to get your own plate. I didn’t know where you were or what time you’d be back, so I went ahead without you. Not like it’s any of my business.”

  Amy sighed. He was mad. She thought he was hurt, too. “I had my splint taken off.”

  He looked at her arm. He almost smiled but caught himself in time, she thought. “Does it feel okay?”

  “It’s a little tender. Jess said I have to be careful with it. No chopping wood.”

  “Hah. That’s not a problem, is it.”

  “Bax, I need to talk to you.”

  “What, more good news?”

  “Before you give up on me, I want you to understand what happened. If you can put your hostility aside for a moment, that will help.”

  He threw his fork on his plate. “All right. What do I need to understand?”

  Once again, she relayed the information she’d gotten from Daniel Parmenter about her nonmarriage. She didn’t know how else to think of it. She seemed to have his attention now.

  “You were never married to him? There wasn’t an annulment or something?”

  She breathed an impatient sigh. “This is exactly the kind of reaction I worried about. Somehow being married, even to a bigamous, lying thief, is better than just being damaged goods.”

  Bax frowned. He was outraged. “That’s not what I meant at all. Don’t put words in my mouth!”

  Color flamed in her cheeks and she frowned back at him. “I told you the ceremony was nothing but a performance that Adam put on, and you want to know if it was annulled. There was no marriage. What else am I supposed to think?”

  “It matters to you, not to me! Do you really think that you’d be more virginal if the wedding had been real?”

  She sat back with a stunned look on her face, as if he’d backhanded her. Instantly, he felt like shit. He realized that was exactly what she was thinking.

  “Amy, listen. You were tricked. You were slapped around, abused, and treated like a slave. Isn’t that about right?”

  She nodded, and big tears rolled down her face.

  “That’s what I care about, not whether your name is on the county rolls in some dusty registration book. Do you suppose that I’m a virgin? I’ve never been married.”

  First, she looked horrified, then she tucked her upper lip down, trying not to laugh. “But that’s different. You’re a man.”

  “Sou
nds like a double standard to me. Those things aren’t important to me. I know you have a good heart. I’ve seen it in action. You took care of Deirdre before she died. You offered Tabitha Pratt a place to live when I would have expected the two of you to fight like wet cats in a pillowcase, considering the situation.”

  “I found some money in that suitcase Adam brought here with him. I split it with her.”

  “Now see? Those are the things that matter.”

  “Then we went outside and burned everything else that was in it and the suitcase too.”

  “Did you dance around the bonfire?”

  This time she did laugh. “No. But we had a good time.”

  “I’ll bet you did, and I’m sorry I missed it. You love your sister, I know you do.” He took her face between his hands and gazed into her green eyes. “And I love you.” He kissed her with great care, mindful of her mouth and healing chin.

  “Bax,” she said with a small, quivering voice, “I fell in love with you the first week I was here.”

  He caught her gaze and searched her face, unsure of what he sought. Not the truth. He could see that already. Permission? Mutual passion? Peace? He believed he saw all of those, too. None of the other women he’d known, not even Polly, had set fire to his heart and desire the way that Amy did. Maybe his experiences and the passing years had colored his view. Or made it clearer. He only knew that he was grateful she had come along at this point in his life, not earlier. Some things were just worth waiting for. His love for her didn’t make him forget his earlier hardships, but it rounded off their sharp edges. He scattered soft kisses on her face, across her cheeks and eyelids, and felt the flutter of her lashes against his lips. A whisper of floral scent rose from her skin and filled his head.

  “I-I should put that food in the icebox.”

  “Leave it. This is our moment. Let the world roll by without us for now.” He pushed out his chair and stood up, pulling her to her feet with him.

  Amy let him, not out of fear this time, but because she trusted him. He pressed her body to his long torso. This was the first time he’d really held her. Her arms looped around his waist, and his around her shoulders. The match felt precisely right. With her face pressed against his collar, she smelled the clean scent of laundry soap and his ineffable maleness.

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “Marry me, Amy. I want you to be my wife. We each deserve something better than we’ve had. Maybe we had to earn it, but now it’s our turn.” He kissed her, his touch soft, demanding. “It’s our time.”

  “It is,” she said, feeling both languid and aroused, as if all that held her up were his arms and the strength of his words.

  “Will you, then? You’ll marry me?”

  “Yes. And you will be my first and only husband.”

  “When? I want to do this right.”

  “Saturday.”

  He pulled back. “Really? Don’t women need more time for the dress and all that ballyhoo? You didn’t get it the first time.”

  “I have my mother’s wedding gown. I’ve kept it in my trunk for a long time. It just needs a couple of alterations. I can do that. I’ll talk to the hotel manager tomorrow and ask about a nice dinner in their dining room.”

  “This is Tuesday. If we’re doing this on Saturday, we’d better get on with it. I’ll put some stuff together and go stay at the office.” He disentangled her arms from his waist, and she looked up at him, puzzled.

  “What? Why?”

  He took her hands in his. “Amy, the next time I come back into this house, it will be as your husband.”

  “Ohh, Bax. But there’s no bathroom or anything there.”

  “It’ll be all right. And I’m sure Whit and Em won’t mind letting me spend Friday night at their house.”

  She watched him climb the stairs and in a few moments, come back down with an army kit bag. Her heart was torn between loving him even more for what he was doing, and the misery of barely seeing him for the next few days.

  Amy walked him to the front door, and in the low, golden light of early evening, he sank his hands into her hair and kissed her as if he were leaving for the war again. “God, I’m going to miss you so much.”

  She buried her face against his neck, not caring that old Mrs. Beech was walking by with her cocker spaniel. “I’ll miss you more.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, no, no, I’m not getting dragged into that debate. We’d be standing here for hours.” He kissed her again, and a low, anguished sound rose from his throat. “That wouldn’t be so bad, but I doubt that I’d be content with it.” He nipped at her earlobe with a gentle bite.

  Shivers flew through Amy and she laughed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

  “You’d better believe it.” He bounced down the front steps and turned to give her a last look. She swore she saw his whole heart in his eyes, and it was just for her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Due to their tight schedule, Bax and Amy decided to keep the wedding plans small and simple. Only family and close friends would be invited to the ceremony. In their case, that wouldn’t involve many people. Mr. Mumford agreed to conduct the ceremony on such short notice as long as it could take place in the afternoon. His morning was already scheduled with a funeral.

  “How did this come about?” Jess asked when Amy stopped by her office to tell her the news on Wednesday. They sat at her worktable, drinking coffee during one of Jessica’s rare quiet moments.

  “Bax proposed and I said yes.”

  Her sister gave her a wry look. “But with less than a week to plan the wedding? Amy, you aren’t, um, pregnant—”

  “Jess, no!” She sighed. “Although I guess I can see why people might think that.”

  “Yes, and about anyone, not just you.”

  Amy shook her head and stirred her coffee. “He proposed the same night you took the cast off my arm. I think we were two souls bumping around in a dark place for a long time. We finally found each other.” She had told no one about his past. If he wanted to, it was his business to do so. “When we did, it was like the sun came out, despite Adam, and the blackmail, and—”

  “Blackmail!”

  “That Milo Breninger, he extorted money from me to keep him from telling Adam that I was having a romance with Bax. And that was before anything happened between us. I had to pay him. I didn’t know what would happen if Adam believed a story like that. In the end, he told Adam anyway and that was how he showed up in my kitchen. I guess.”

  “Have you heard anything more about either of them? Adam or Breninger?” Jessica asked, pushing a tongue blade out of the way.

  “Not really. They’re both sitting in jail while the police sort out their crimes. Adam—I feel like I never knew him at all. He had at least one other identity and was involved in a lot of things I didn’t know about.” Amy looked down at her lap. “I can’t believe I was so blind. But then again, he taught me early on not to question him. And I could have avoided all of it if I hadn’t been so selfish. It was a hard lesson.”

  “It was,” Jess agreed quietly. “But it’s behind us now. When enough time has passed, that episode will fade in people’s memories.”

  Amy pushed her chair back. “Well, I have a lot to do before Saturday, so I’d better get to it. I-I haven’t spoken to Susannah. But if you do, will you tell her that she and Tanner are invited to the wedding? I’m sure she won’t come, but I want to include her.”

  Jess stood up. “I’ll tell her.”

  Amy nodded and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Thanks, Jessie.”

  The short days flew by. Amy and Bax met at the café every evening for dinner. She wouldn’t have minded cooking for them, but he was sticking to his promise that he would not cross her threshold again until he carried her over it in his arms and she was Mrs. Amy Duncan. Now that the evenings were long and mild, he walked her home and they str
olled down the street, hand in hand. For Amy, this was the sort of romantic courtship that she hadn’t known before. Adam’s importunities all those years ago had been nothing more than a calculated act, shifted, she realized, to Amy from Jessica when she rejected him. Flowers and overblown speeches about her beauty and virtue—they’d all been self-serving. In Jess, he’d discovered a woman too independent and strong-willed to be taken in by his maneuvering. Amy, though, had been a perfect victim: vulnerable, with an outsized but extremely fragile ego. She’d eaten up his blandishments with a serving spoon.

  But Bax . . . she felt as if they’d known each other for years. They were comfortable together, and yet a heat burned just below the surface between them that made her glad their wedding was a few days away, instead of months.

  On Friday evening, he walked her up to her front porch. They sat on the wicker settee that overlooked the street. “Well, Amy, this is it. Tomorrow night, I don’t think we’ll be sitting out here listening to the frogs.”

  Ducking her head, she smiled and actually felt herself blush. “No.”

  “Any second thoughts?”

  Her head came up and she looked at him. He was sincere. She could see a shadow of apprehension in his eyes, but she had to ask anyway. “My God, Bax, are you serious?”

  He shrugged. “The decision was kind of hasty.”

  “No—no second thoughts.” A shiver went through her. She feared the answer but knew she had to ask the question. “What about you?”

  He smiled and put his palm to her cheek. “Amy, don’t you know?” He placed soft kisses on her eyelids and temples. “You made my life good again. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since my life was good. If Whit hadn’t come along when he did that day Jacobsen was here, I really think I would have killed him. I had my hands around his neck when I heard Whit’s car pull up. Every night since you got here, I’d lie awake, knowing you were just on the other side of the wall—the only time I felt more alone was when I was in prison and looking at the world beyond the barred windows. Every hour I’m waiting for you seems like a year. I need you by my side.”