Jessie: Bride of South Carolina (American Mail-Order Bride 8)
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“No, you didn’t.”She felt terrible already that he believed she truly thought he was once a highwayman, but for him to think he deserved to be called such.“I shouldn’t—”
Joel’s careless shrug ended her protest.“Actually, I have encountered highwaymen once before. They stole most everything—not from me, of course—”he gave a bitter half-laugh, half-scoff— “I had nothing worth their bullet, or breath, to steal.”Grinning, he shook his head ruefully.“Everyone else in the wagon…Well, they weren’t so fortunate. The females lost any money or jewels they might have had with them, the young man driving the wagon full of women lost his pocket watch, and everyone except me lost their shoes.”He lifted his stocking-covered feet and wiggled his toes. He lowered his feet and sighed.“As I told them, better my boots than my life.”
“You encountered highwaymen on your way to Lancefield?”
“No.”
Jessie wanted to ask him for more details, but something about his tone and expression halted her.“Just because you couldn’t keep those people from losing their boots doesn’t mean you deserved to have yours taken,”she said sometime later.
“Perhaps not,”he allowed.“But sometimes we just don’t know what we have until it’s been taken away.”
“And sometimes you do,”she said under her breath then pretended not to notice the hard stare Joel was directing at her.“Looks like there’s a town coming up. Should we look for a room?”She kicked the now empty bags at her feet.“Maybe some more provisions. Including another pair of boots,”she added, tapping the side of her boot against his foot.
“If we stop this early tonight we won’t make it there by Monday night.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if I had to catch the next train, would it?”
“Jessie, I swear I’ll never understand you,”Joel grumbled.“But if you’re willing to test Mr. Perfect’s interest by being late, so am I.”
Chapter Seven
“Where is she?”
It was the shout heard around the county, Anna was certain of it.
For a brief moment she contemplated crawling under her bed, but dismissed the thought. They’d find her there. They’d find her if she hid in the wardrobe, too. Or under the stairs. Or in the cellar. They’d even find her in the outhouse. Mr. Wilcox was not one to give up on something he wanted. Jessie had warned Anna of that fact, and judging by the way the rafters shook when he shouted, she knew the warning was fully warranted.
“Anna,”came her own father’s shout.
Steeling her spine, Anna drew herself up to the whole five feet she was and left the false security of her bedroom.
What would she tell Mr. Wilcox? Jessie was the first to admit she was not very good at correspondence. Positively dreadful, was a more accurate statement, but Anna would never have been so cruel to tell her that. Instead, she’d offered to help Jessie with her letters to Caleb McHale. Which also meant she’d had the privilege of reading the ones Jessie received.
You sound like a delight! I should think we shall suit perfectly. One had read. I look forward to meeting you…I think you’ll enjoy your new home. I’ve arranged travel for you on Tuesday, May 12th from Charleston. Was written in the closing paragraph of his second and final letter.
Anna wouldn’t be human if she didn’t admit she was the slightest bit jealous of her friend. Then again, Jessie didn’t really need a matchmaking service to help her find a husband—the right one lived only seven minutes from Jessie’s house.
“Did you need me, Pa?”Anna asked, entering the parlor where Ma, Pa, and Mr. Wilcox were assembled. Pa and Ma stood by the sofa and Mr. Wilcox stood just inside the door, his arms crossed and a dark, menacing expression on his face.
Pa sighed.“Where is your friend Jessie?”
“I don’t know.”That was true enough; she didn’t know where Jessie was specifically.
“How do you not know, you silly girl?”Mr. Wilcox snapped.
“I’m handling this, Mr. Wilcox,”Pa said.
“Well, you’re not handling it fast enough,”Mr. Wilcox said with a sneer.
“Have you seen Jessie today?”her father asked.
She hadn’t seen Jessie since she’d shown her Mr. McHale’s letter on Friday. Before Jessie left, she insisted on saying their final farewells then so if Mr. Wilcox realized on Saturday that Jessie was missing Anna wouldn’t have to lie and say she hadn’t seen her that day. Smart girl.“No, sir.”
“Liar,”Mr. Wilcox snapped.
Pa ignored him and turned back to Anna.“Where do you think she might be?”
Unease settled in Anna’s stomach. She couldn’t lie. Not to Pa.“I—I—I…”
“Spit it out,”Mr. Wilcox shouted.“I don’t have all day.”
“Well, you’d better have at least five minutes, sir, or you won’t be having any of our help,”Pa said to the rude man.
Mr. Wilcox snapped his mouth shut, his lips forming a tight line.
“Anna, your friend could be in trouble,”Pa explained quietly.
Anna doubted that. If she knew anything about Jessie, the only person who could be in trouble is the one who was brave enough to oppose her.
“If you know anything about where she might be, you need to tell us,”Mama said, placing her hand on Anna’s shoulder.
Anna took a deep breath. Jessie deserved to get away and Anna would never forgive herself if Jessie were intercepted in Charleston and dragged back to be forever bullied for trying to break free. Anna met her father’s eyes.“I don’t know where she is, Pa. I haven’t seen her since Friday afternoon when she came by to lend me a set of combs that would match my—”
“I don’t give a two bits about a pair of combs, you—”
Crack!
The whole room went still.
“Damn, that hurt,”Pa said, shaking off his hand. He looked at Mr. Wilcox who was now lying on the floor, unconscious.“But it sure did feel good.”
Anna released a little giggle.
“Have a seat, Anna,”Pa said, his tone gentle, concerned.
Anna did as instructed, dreading what would come next.
Just as she suspected, her parents demanded to know everything. And they meant everything—no details left out.
Reluctantly, Anna obliged.
“Hmm.”Pa drummed his fingers on his knee.“What are we going to do?”
“Nothing,”Anna suggested with a forced smile.
Pa pushed to his feet and sighed.“No, we have to do something.”He cast a sharp look to the sprawled out Mr. Wilcox.“If he finds her—”He closed his eyes, shook his head, and sighed again.“No.”
“What do you propose we do, Richard?”Ma asked.
Pa blew out a deep breath.“It looks like I’m going to Charleston to see that that girl gets on a train.”
Chapter Eight
Joel never thought he’d ever see the day when he allowed Jessie to buy something for him. Sure, he’d borrowed books from her when they were younger, but that was borrowing. The books were always returned as soon as he’d finished reading them. But any time they’d ever gone into the mercantile for treats or a show put on by some sort of company passing through town, Joel paid for his own and if possible he’d pay for Jessie’s too.
Around his eighth birthday, he’d stopped attending school with the others his age and went around town looking for any sort of job that would earn him a few pennies in his pocket. He’d spend all afternoon loading two ricks of wood in the back of a wagon for a nickel. Or scrub the floor in the parlor and the main hallways in the boardinghouse for a dime. He’d help Mr. Murdoch unload supply wagons and restock his store every Sunday for two dimes and a stick of licorice. Anything anyone was willing to pay him to do, he did it.
It didn’t take too long before his father found out what he was doing and made sitting impossible for almost a week for not giving him his“due.”From then on, half of what Joel earned went straight to his father and Joel saved the rest with one goal in mind: to one day run away and never
return. Oh, and as he got older, that changed to include Jessie. If she wanted anything, he’d have the money to get it for her.
Now, the cruel irony was all the hard work he’d done so he wouldn’t have to take charity and here he sat staring at a new pair of boots that hadn’t been paid for by the lint in his pockets.
“Thank you,”Joel choked around the bile in his throat.
“Don’t thank me yet,”she said, making herself comfortable next to him on the wagon bench.“They might feel as awful as the wooden clogs my aunt sent me from Denmark.”
Joel doubted they’d be thatuncomfortable, but even if they were fashioned out of the finest leather on the continent it wouldn’t make them any more comfortable to wear. He sighed.“I’ll pay you back.”He picked up one of the boots and inspected the black leather. It wasn’t as nice as the ones he’d had, but they weren’t shabby, either.“With interest.”
“Let’s call it even.”She shot him a warm smile.“Now, try them on.”
Even. That word sounded just as disgusting as the bile had tasted. But the truth was he couldn’t make it all the way to Charleston and back without something on his feet. Reluctantly, he pulled the boots on, and then stood.
“How do they feel?”Jessie reached down and put her hand on the top of his boot, her fingers gently probing the leather to see how it fit around his foot.
“They’re not so bad.”
Jessie’s eyes tripled in size.“Are you about to faint?”
Joel curled his lip and resumed his seat.“I said they weren’t bad, I didn’t say I wanted to wear them to meet my maker.”
Jessie’s giggle extinguished the sting to his pride.“All right, we’ll be sure you get a new pair made up as soon as you get home.”She bent and poked at the top of his boot again.“But I think these shouldn’t be too unbearable until then.”
“Nah, they’ll do their job of keeping my foot protected.”He lifted up his right foot and rested it on the dashboard.“The real question is do they make me look as handsome as we both know I am?”
The left side of Jessie’s lips dipped down into an overdone frown.“Well—”she tapped her fingernail against her teeth— “now I won’t be embarrassed when you drop me off at the train station, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Then they’re perfect.”Joel set his foot down and released the brake.
“Just so you know,”Jessie began quietly.“I wouldn’t be embarrassed even if you were stuck in your dirty, old socks helping me down from the wagon.”
“I know.”And he did know. No matter what anyone had said about them when they would go to town together, she hadn’t once wavered in her acceptance of him. The sign for an inn came into view a few blocks down the street.“But why?”
~*~
Jessie had the oddest feeling that Joel wasn’t asking specifically why she wouldn’t have minded had he been in only his socks at the train station. He was asking why she’d been his friend and stood by him when none of the other children wanted a thing to do with him.
“You had no expectations,”she said honestly.“At school all the girls wanted to be my friend and come stay at my house, but when they came over, they ignored me and just played with my dolls or games or whatever new toy my mother had insisted my father buy for me so I could have the best of everything and be the most popular girl in the county.”
She plucked at her skirt.“The boys…”She shrugged.“None of them ever paid me any mind no matter how old I was.”Tears stung her eyes and she quickly blinked them away.“But you were different. Your interest was always in me, not what I had or could give you. You always asked how my day was.”An uncontrollable smile bent her lips.“Or if I’d tied any of the other girls’dresses together by the ribbons on the back of their dresses. When you did borrow things, it was just that. You borrowed them. You took those books home and read them, not in front of me.”Realizing they were stopped in front of the inn and she was still talking, Jessie forced a laugh to cover up her embarrassment and said,“You were my only real friend, Joel. I wouldn’t have traded an afternoon with you for all of my days spent with the others.”
“I always wanted to be your friend, Jessie,”Joel said unevenly.“Always.”
Then, without adding anything more to that cryptic statement, he hopped down from the wagon and went into the inn to see about making arrangements for their lodging.
“This room is far more spacious than the stable last night,”Jessie commented when Joel opened the door to the rented room. Then again, she’d seen carriage houses that were bigger than that stable. Better built, too.
Joel whistled.“Yes, ma’am, plenty of room.”He ushered her inside and shut the door.“Where would you like me to put your bag?”
“On the stool, please.”
Joel set her bag down.“I’ll ask the innkeeper to order you a hot bath when I go down to see to the horses.”
“And dinner?”Jessie asked hopefully, mindlessly patting her stomach.
“I’ll see if he’ll send you up a plate.”
“Me?”
Joel stared at her as if she’d just said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.“Didn’t you just say you were hungry?”
“Yes, but you’re eating, too, aren’t you?”
“I’ll share some apples with Biscuits and Gravy.”
Jessie crossed her arms“Apples are not dinner, Joel.”
“I had no less than two pounds of jerky today,”he reminded her, rubbing his stomach.“I don’t need much.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I’m not.”He flashed her a grin that had the ability to suck the starch right out of her knees—were she one of thosekinds of young ladies. Which, just to be clear, she was not now, nor would she ever be.“I’ll be all right.”
Her hands flew to her hips.“Joel Cunningham, you aren’t intending to leave me in here to my own devices until morning, are you?”
“No, I’m not intending to.”He reached for the door.“It’s what I’m doing.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,”she gripped his shoulders in her best attempt to stop him from leaving.“You need to eat and—”she fluttered her lashes at him, praying he wouldn’t laugh at her— “I need protection.”
Joel snorted.“Now who is being absurd?”
Jessie poked him in the chest, saying,“You.”
His hand covered hers; he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, firmly pressing her breasts against his strong chest.“You keep touching me and you’re going to need protection from me.”
~*~
Joel was just as surprised by his action as Jessie appeared to be. But he didn’t release her. He couldn’t. Not yet. He’d always had some sort of attraction to her and had dreamed of holding her this way more nights than he could possibly remember. His dreams hadn’t done this moment an ounce of justice, however, and were it up to him, he’d never let her go.
But he had to.
“Sorry,”he said gruffly, releasing her. Heat crept up his face.“I need to go.”
“Wait.”Her delicate hand fell on his wrist.
He shook her off. She might not realize it, but she was playing a dangerous game.“No.”He pulled back, his back pressing against the wooden door.“The horses.”
“Will need to eat all of their apples.”Her pink tongue darted out from between her parted lips and moistened them.“Please, have dinner with me. You need your strength just as much as the horses need theirs.”
“N—”
She pressed her finger to his lips, halting his protest.“I will wait for you before I eat.”She cocked her head to the side.“You wouldn’t make me starve, would you?”
Joel moved her hand away from his mouth before he did something foolish like kiss it. He inwardly groaned. Now he was the one being absurd, thinking about kissing Jessie’s finger?“No,”he bit out.“But I’m only staying for dinner.”
She smiled in a way that lit her entire face then walked over to her travel bag.
I’m taking her to the train depot in Charleston so she can go meet her new husband. Joel’s heart constricted painfully. Soon Jessie would be gone. Not that it mattered thatmuch, he supposed. He led the horses to the stables and unhitched them from the wagon. As it was, he’d hardly seen Jessie over the past five years. And even then, he’d only seen her, not actually talked to her.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t mattered so much. The past two days had proved that. When they’d both set aside their foolish pride and past frustrations with the other they’d gotten along as well as they had the last time they’d swam in the creek together. It was as if only five torturous days had passed, not years.
What if…
No. There wasn’t room for what ifs and the sooner he accepted it, the better off they’d all be. Jessie had already made up her mind: she was running off to be a mail-order bride to one Mr. Perfect in Montana. Ifand that was a fickle if, she was willing to risk her life by going to some far off land still yet untamed to meet a stranger then it’d stand to reason that had Jessie ever considered Joel as a suitable husband for her then surely she’d have shown up on his door and tried to persuade himto marry her at some point in the last five years; but she hadn’t.
The realization rocked him to the core. He was only her friend and that’s all she’d ever see him as.
For the best,he told himself, hardening his resolve. He’d take her to Charleston to catch her train and that’d be the last of it.
Joel finished bedding down the horses for the evening and making sure the wagon was put where the innkeeper had instructed, refusing to acknowledge the hollowness he felt inside.
With a grunt of irritation, he climbed the stairs up to Jessie’s room. He shouldn’t have agreed to dine with her. Then again, since she truly saw him as only a friend, what did it matter? Her virtue wasn’t in danger of being harmed that way. He might have an overwhelming attraction to her, but he’d never consider acting on it if she didn’t feel the same way.