He took a step closer, and his tone was unexpectedly gentle. “Is something wrong?”
The concern in his eyes made her stomach turn over.
“It’s Miranda,” she blurted out. “She’s engaged to marry Grant Tyler.”
CHAPTER 7
Jason’s feet seemed to have grown into the ground, as surely as the roots of the crops in his field. Miranda actually engaged to someone else! It didn’t seem possible.
“I see.”
He lifted his hat, wiped his gritty forearm across his sweaty brow, and ran a hand through his hair, giving himself time to absorb Pearl’s news.
“I—I didn’t want you to hear of it from town gossip or… or something.”
Did she think he was going to crumble under the news? He reached out absently to brush a stray lock of her blond hair behind her ear where the fragrant prairie breezes couldn’t catch it for the moment.
She’d risked her father’s anger and her reputation in order that he would be prepared when faced publicly with Miranda’s engagement. Strange, but the engagement seemed a small thing compared to this sacrifice of Pearl’s for him. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her. Dark lashes silhouetted against her creamy skin framed her wide eyes. He had to swallow twice before he could speak, and then his voice sounded even to him as though it came from a cave.
“Thank you.”
She nodded and leaned slightly against Angel, her hand against the horse’s neck as though to steady herself.
“How is Maggie?”
Had his touch caused that breathlessness?
“Fine. Her cooking has improved considerably with your teaching.”
Her smile seemed a bit feeble. “And Grace?”
Grace was another story. “She’s started having nightmares. Bad ones. ‘Most every night she wakes up at least once, screaming at the top of her lungs. Doesn’t want any of us out of her sight during the day.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Nothing we’ve tried has worked. Says she’s afraid we’ll go away and never come back, like the folks.” And like Pearl, but he wasn’t going to burden her with that knowledge. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t here every day.
“I’ll be praying for her. And your brothers?”
“At least they aren’t having nightmares.” He shrugged and tried to give a nonchalant grin.
“I’ve heard some rumors about Frank….”
“If they’re about his drinking, they’re true. Don’t seem to know what to do about that any more than I do Grace’s nightmares.”
“I’m sorry.”
He was sorry, too. Seemed he was failing right and left at taking care of his family. His father would be mightily disappointed in him if he knew.
“I’d like to stop up at the house and say hello to everyone, but I’d best be getting back to town.”
He nodded, wishing he had the right to ask her to stay awhile longer. But he’d promised her adoptive father he’d never do anything to hurt her reputation again, and he meant to keep that promise.
He watched as Pearl and Angel disappeared down the road between the wheat, barley, and corn that covered the prairie between his place and town. She’d thought he would be upset with her for telling him about Miranda and Grant Tyler; it was as plain as the turned-up little nose on her round little face.
His lack of emotion at her news surprised him. There was a time when he couldn’t imagine his life without Miranda in it. It had only been a month since she’d turned him down. The longest month of his life, though not entirely because of her. He’d hardly thought of her since the dance. Only his pride had been hurt that night, not his heart. Until then, Miranda had never entered a social function on any man’s arm but his or her father’s.
He should have realized months ago that Miranda’s feelings were changing. Whenever he’d brought up the subject of their future together, she’d become evasive. Her gaze had begun to follow other young men, particularly some of the strangers from the East who were attending the local Windom Academy.
The glimpse at Miranda’s cold, selfish heart the night he proposed had destroyed the love he’d thought he had for her. It was as if she was an old habit he’d overcome. Miranda wasn’t the same person she used to be, no doubt about it. She’d become someone else—someone he didn’t love.
Pearl hadn’t changed, except to become more of what she’d always been. More loyal, more idealistic, more beautiful. She was everything he’d wanted and expected Miranda to become.
The way she’d pitched in and helped around the house and garden—well, his family had fallen in love with her strong, cheerful spirit. Each of them complained over her absence.
He missed her, too. When he looked up a bit ago and saw her sitting atop Angel at the edge of the field, he’d thought for a moment he was daydreaming. He’d just been thinking how empty the house was without her welcoming smile when he came in from the fields.
He missed talking over little incidents of the day while he saw her home at night. He missed the comfort of knowing she was watching over his sisters and the house while he and his brothers took care of the fields and animals.
Again and again over the last two weeks, pictures of her in his home filled his mind. Standing over the cookstove, darning his socks, reading to Grace, laughing at his jokes at the dinner table, her eyes meeting his in a shared smile over the tops of his brothers’ and sisters’ heads. She’d given him strength and encouragement and the belief that eventually life was going to be good again—just by being there, standing by all of them, and being herself. And the terror he’d felt the night of the dance when he realized she was in danger still had the power to tighten his stomach.
He rubbed the palms of his hands briskly over his face, barely noticing the bristles of his evening whiskers or the smell of the earth and wheat. Why, he loved her! Loved his best friend’s little sister, the tagalong who had followed him and John around as a child, and later accompanied him and Miranda more times than he could count.
“I love her.” He said the words out loud, tasting the wonder of them on his lips.
His eyes followed the road down which Pearl had disappeared. He knew she cared for him, but as a friend or older brother. Could he possibly win the love he wanted from her—the love of a woman? Or would any attempt destroy the special friendship they already shared?
“You’re a fool, Sterling,” Jason admonished himself under his breath the following evening, knocking on the screen door of Pearl’s home. “The world’s biggest fool, that’s what you are.”
He was glad it was Mrs. Strong and not Dr. Matt who answered. After the fiasco at the dance, he wasn’t certain Dr. Matt would look kindly on his desire to court Pearl. He declined Mrs. Strong’s invitation to step inside while she went to find Pearl, electing to stay on the porch out of Dr. Matt’s way.
He ran two fingers beneath his stiff white collar. It sure was tight.
Trying to keep his freshly shined boots from clunking too loudly on the narrow wooden floorboards, he paced nervously. What if she flat out told him she wouldn’t allow him to court her?
No, she wouldn’t do that. They’d been friends for eight years. Good friends. She had to care for him, and a lot, or she wouldn’t have been helping out at his farm, or have argued with Dr. Matt, even after Ed Ray’s disgusting comments, or have come out yesterday to tell him about Miranda and Grant, or…
“Good evening.”
He whirled around. By Henry, she was more beautiful than he’d remembered. Her face glowed above her soft pink dress.
“Are you all right, Jason?”
With a start, he realized that he hadn’t even said hello. He was acting like he’d never seen a girl before! “Hello.” He swung the hat he’d been fiddling with toward the white wooden glider at one end of the porch. “Could we talk awhile?”
She preceded him to the glider, sitting down with a grace that made him all the more aware of her femininity. As if he needed a reminder! The lavender fra
grance she wore contributed to the breakdown of his defenses. He slid his free hand down over his striped dress pants to wipe away the perspiration. He hadn’t been this nervous since—he couldn’t recall ever being this nervous.
He yanked his gaze away from hers. If he wasn’t careful, he’d blurt out his love for her with no preamble. That would welcome a rejection for certain. He’d lost his parents, his career, the girl he’d once loved—his heart was too bruised to face loss again so soon.
“We’ve been friends a long time.” The words came out in a squeaky voice that made him feel twelve years old again.
“Yes. Ever since you saved my life.”
He darted a glance at her. She caught it and gave him a little smile. He forgot what he was going to say and stared at her until he felt foolish. Had her eyes always been such a rich shade of blue?
She looked down at her lap. “How is your family?”
“Fine.” He didn’t want to discuss his family. He wanted to talk about his feelings for her and find out if there was any hope of her returning his love. But he couldn’t, not yet. Not without chasing her away before he even began trying to win her love. Maybe he should just say plain out that he wanted to court her. And then…
“You’re lucky to have each other to lean on, with your parents gone.”
“Yes, I suppose we are.” He snorted softly. “I’m not doing such a good job of taking care of them. Frank is always belligerent, and now he’s drinking every chance he gets. Maggie can’t keep up with the house and garden, though she’s improved after your instruction.” He set his hat on the porch railing. Wouldn’t be a brim left on it by the time he went home if he didn’t stop rolling it up. “Fact is, the girls seem to need me more often than I can be available, and half the time, I don’t know how to help them when I’m there.”
“You’re doing more for them than you realize, I’m sure.” Her hand rested softly on his arm in a comforting gesture, and a bolt of energy scrawled through him.
He slipped his own hand over hers, playing his fingers over her soft skin.
I love you, Pearl. The words repeated over and over in his mind, and it was all he could do to keep from saying them aloud. He could tell by her tiny gasp that she was startled by his caressing touch. His declaration of love would frighten her even more. At the very least, she’d think he mistook his feelings because of his grief or that he was interested in her only because he was on the rebound from Miranda.
She cleared her throat, and he lifted his gaze to her face, only inches away from his in the fading twilight.
“I wish I could help your family, Jason.”
“They all miss you. They need you.”
Her lashes dropped, hiding her eyes from view. He wished she’d look at him again. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her eyes tonight.
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. “I need you. Marry me, Pearl.”
CHAPTER 8
Marry him! Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly.
But the brown eyes with the golden lights that had been dear to her for so many years were real, pleading with her. Her free hand slipped to the high lace collar of her pink organdy gown. “I—I don’t understand.”
The glider stopped, and Jason turned to face her squarely, his hands on her shoulders. “I hadn’t intended to blurt it out like that. I meant to ask to court you properly. But now that it’s out in the open… I wouldn’t ask if I thought there was a chance you were in love with someone else. You don’t love anyone else, do you?”
“No.” There’ll never be anyone but Jason!
One hand cupped her cheek, and she cautiously leaned her head into it, glorying in his gentle touch. “You’re certain, Jason?” Her voice trembled.
“Absolutely. We’ve always been good friends. We like each other, respect each other, share a commitment to keeping Christ first in our lives. We’d be good together.”
“Yes.” Did he honestly think she needed to be argued into marrying him? A smile hovered on her lips.
His grin filled his face, and something she’d never seen before sparked in his eyes, taking her breath. His hands cradled her face, making it impossible to look away from him. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
She wondered if her smile was as wide as his. “Yes.”
He took a deep breath, and its shakiness made her feel humble. Did he care for her so much? She ached to speak her love for him, but dared not unless he spoke first. “I wasn’t expecting… I mean… You’ve always loved Miranda. We’ve only been friends.”
Silence hung between them until she didn’t think she could bear it any longer. One of his hands slipped to cover hers where they clasped in her lap. His skin was callused and cut from working with the wheat, but even so she welcomed his touch.
He began to say something, then stopped and cleared his throat. Why, he was as nervous as she was! The thought brought a smile. She’d never seen him nervous before. Always he seemed so sure of himself. It was one of the things she admired in him. But to think he was nervous at proposing to her made her feel tender toward him, and she caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.
“You’re right; we’ve only been friends. I want you to be my wife, but I’ll not force my… attentions on you.”
Something deep within her froze. He wasn’t asking her to marry him because he loved her.
How was it possible to hurt so deeply when she felt completely empty inside? She made herself look him full in the face, hoping he wouldn’t see her disappointment, willing her voice to be steady. “I understand. A friendly marriage. To look after your home and family.”
Something flickered in his eyes and was gone. Was it regret? Surely not. She was being fanciful.
“Yes. A friendly marriage.”
“Are… are you trying to use me to hurt Miranda?”
He touched her cheek again, caressing it lightly with his knuckles. “No. I need you.”
His words were barely a whisper, and the urgency in them made her want to reach out to comfort him, but she couldn’t move.
“Do you want to change your mind?”
He’d said he needed her. To turn him down would be unthinkable! “No.”
“Sunday.”
“What?”
“Let’s get married Sunday.”
“But that’s only two days away!”
“Do you want a big wedding?”
Of course she did. Every girl she knew wanted a big wedding. But if he wanted to be married Sunday, that settled it. “Sunday will be fine. That is, is it possible to purchase the license and arrange for Uncle Adam to marry us by then?” She was amazed she could even consider such practical things.
“The license will be no problem, and I can’t imagine Rev. Conrad not finding time to marry his favorite niece.”
They talked for an hour, discussing their arrangements and when her things would be moved to the farmstead—her clothing, her hope chest, the few pieces of china that had belonged to her mother.
When he walked her to the door, he drew her close to him, and her hands trembled slightly on his shoulders. His lips touched her temple so lightly and quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined it. “I’ll be a good husband to you, I promise.”
A good husband, she thought as she watched him walk swiftly to his horse, but not a husband who loves his wife. The knowledge squeezed her heart unbearably.
The starry night surrounded Jason as he rode home. His saddle creaked, and the insects made prairie music, a background to the song in his heart. She’d promised to marry him. Forty-eight hours from now she’d be his wife.
A friendly marriage. He’d only wanted to reassure her that he wouldn’t push her too quickly from the role of friend to that of wife. But one day, he’d win her love—the love of a woman for a man.
Anything less was unthinkable.
What could Miranda possibly want, Pearl wondered Saturday evening. She sat on the edge of the cushion at one end of the green velvet sofa i
n her parents’ parlor and looked at Miranda sitting on the other end. They hadn’t spoken to each other since the evening Miranda turned down Jason and slapped Pearl’s face. She could feel the sting of it even now.
Miranda was dressed in a fashionable visiting suit of russet silk with tan shoes and matching bag. One of the wide hats she loved perched on her gleaming brown hair. She was beautiful, in a dark, vivid way with which her own pale beauty could never compete, Pearl realized with a twinge.
Her friend’s gaze darted about the room curiously, and Pearl knew she was taking in the preparations for the wedding to be held in the parlor the next afternoon. She waited patiently for Miranda to state the purpose of her visit. Manners dictated that she offer Miranda some refreshment, but there were limits to her hospitality. She didn’t want to encourage Miranda to stay any longer than necessary.
Miranda’s brown eyes met hers, and she lifted her chin a trifle. “Even though we haven’t been very friendly lately, I wanted to tell you my news myself. I’m engaged to be married. To Mr. Grant Tyler.”
Her eyes held the look of a Roman conqueror, Pearl thought with distaste. “Yes, so I’ve heard.”
Miranda’s lips formed a little pout. “Oh dear, and I did so want you to hear the news from me.” With a practiced feminine shrug that lifted the lace on the shoulders of her gown, she dropped her lashes in false modesty that tightened the corners of Pearl’s mouth. “I suppose it’s difficult for people not to speak of the wedding plans of one of the town’s most eligible bachelors.”
There was a time Miranda would have thought such behavior as unbecoming as she thought it herself, and Pearl couldn’t help but wish her old sweet friend were with her now instead of this preening creature.
“I’ve heard rumors that you’re engaged also. To Jason. Of course, I told the rumor bearer that was impossible.” In spite of her attempt to appear unconcerned, her eyes peered sharply at Pearl.
“We’re to be married tomorrow.”
They stared at each other for a full minute. Sounds of the neighborhood filtered through the screens to enter on the breeze that lifted the lace-edged curtains: children laughing, horses’ hooves plodding through the streets, buggy wheels creaking, dogs barking. But from the parlor, there was no sound at all. “You can’t be serious.”
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