She did care about him. Her actions over the past day proved it, no matter what Rob thought.
And Nathan couldn't help a grin.
"I'm fine," he repeated. "I just sat up too fast." A short bout of coughing belied his words, but the food and inactivity, not to mention being off the sooty train, had done wonders for his constitution today.
Being with Janie had caused the improvement in his attitude.
She wrinkled her nose as his coughs subsided, and that made him grin again.
He stretched his legs out toward the floor. "Do you think Mrs. Killen will serve supper soon?"
The kitchen had become noisy again while he'd dozed. Scents of warm bread and some kind of roasting meat must be wafting beneath the door, because his mouth was watering. And he wanted to shake Janie out of the funk she'd suffered this afternoon.
He was filled with new hope. Janie did care about him. And when they returned to Calvin, he'd do something about it.
"If it's supper you want, I suppose I should freshen up a bit." She turned to stand before the looking glass above a wooden dressing table.
Freshen up. Yes, he'd love a bath, but that might have to wait. He had a fresh shirt in the small satchel, and he tried his best not to watch Janie as he searched through the small bag for it.
It was a losing endeavor.
With each pin she removed from her hair, the golden mass slipped farther down her back until it was all down. She used a brush from the table in long, sweeping strokes. Each one hypnotized him more and more.
She was so beautiful.
She caught his stare in the mirror and flushed.
He ducked his head, focusing again on his satchel on the floor. "Mindy and I aren't close. I've never seen a woman put up her hair. I've never been married. I was engaged once." As the words fell from his mouth, surprise surged through him. He hadn't meant to reveal that.
Now it was his turn to go hot.
He rubbed the back of his neck. Opened his mouth to take the words back, but instead, what emerged was, "She threw me over for someone with a better salary than a cowboy's."
A moment passed before she spoke. "I'm sorry." Janie's whispered words were impetus enough to look up.
Her hair was still down, her hands and the brush rested in her lap. In the mirror, her eyes were trained on him, soft and filled with compassion.
"Ironic, then, that I received the attorney's letter about my inheritance only weeks later." He didn't mean for bitterness to seep through his words, but now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stem the flow. "She heard about it and returned, begged for my forgiveness."
He looked away from Janie's gaze in the mirror. He'd been so lonely, so desperate for someone to love him, that he'd wanted to believe her motives were pure.
He'd told her this much. He might as well tell the rest. "Rob helped me discover her true motives. She didn't love me—probably never had."
And he'd been blinded by wanting to believe the best of Hildy.
"What a terrible ordeal," Janie murmured. "I don't understand how people can be so cruel."
She'd gone back to brushing her hair, and he couldn't catch her eye in the mirror now. Her words... there had been more than compassion in her tone. It had sounded like... empathy.
As if she'd been a victim to some kind of cruelty as well.
"I can take comfort in the fact that there are genuine people in the world." He meant the words as a compliment to her, but again, she wouldn't meet his eye.
Whatever had happened today, he wanted to ease it for her.
As she finished her hair, leaving the locks in a braid tucked under into a bun, he moved behind her in the mirror. From this close, it would be awkward if she avoided his gaze. She didn't. The shadows in her eyes remained, and he wanted them gone.
"You look beautiful," he said simply. "Shall we go to supper?"
* * *
It's pretend. All of it is pretend.
Janie repeated the words to herself silently as she and Nathan left the boardinghouse the next morning. His hand rested at the small of her back, and he carried her satchel.
Last night at supper, he'd been conscientious, serving her first from the platters on the dinner table, leaning close in conversation. They'd remained in the common parlor, chatting with another couple who'd been staying overnight.
Nathan was charming and kind and...
It was all an act.
She mustn't forget it. When they got back on the train, Nathan would go back to being a friend—or less.
He'd severed the blossoming relationship between them with his letter.
But... what he'd shared with her before supper last night hadn't been in public. His wounds from the woman who'd broken his heart had been a gift given only to her.
She wanted to believe it meant something. But perhaps he was only telling her so she would understand why he couldn't be involved with her.
The only reason he was behaving so kindly now to keep up the charade she'd started. And maybe gratitude for her help while he'd been sick.
But oh... it was tempting to believe that he wanted her again.
When they walked down the street and he reached for her, drawing her hand into the curve of his elbow, she wanted to cling and never let go.
When they clambered up onto the train platform, he smiled warmly before leaving her to go to the ticket agent.
On the night they'd arrived in Cottonwood Cove and he'd been so deathly sick, she'd had the passing thought that he would break her heart all over again. Perhaps it wasn't his fault, though. It was her and the hopes and expectations that leaped to life in her breast.
She wanted to be loved by him. Ached for him to return the feelings that has blossomed since their first dance.
She was a fool.
The platform was nearly empty. Only three other individuals waited for the morning train. It couldn't come quickly enough to suit Janie. She wanted to go home, where Edna's accusations weren't waiting around every corner.
She stood near the tracks, comforted by the low rumble of Nathan's voice as he purchased their tickets. She couldn't help turning to watch him. The man drew her.
He caught her looking and grinned.
And then, she watched in horror as a familiar figure in a stark black dress ascended the stairs to the platform and bee-lined straight for Nathan.
Edna. No!
"Excuse me, young man?" Her voice carried easily over the open platform.
Nathan was too polite to ignore her, though Janie wished he would.
She couldn't look away from what was unfolding.
She wanted to run, but run where? She had to board the train to get back home.
She wanted to shout to Nathan and tell him to ignore whatever Edna would say. She didn't dare.
All she could do was watch.
"Are you acquainted with that young woman?"
Nathan smiled as he followed Edna's pointing finger to Janie. He had no idea what was coming.
"Yes, that's—Janie. My... erm, wife." He stumbled over the words, just as she had, no more comfortable with the lie than she'd been.
Edna narrowed shrewd eyes on him. "I'd heard she was back in town—"
"Yes, I'm afraid I was very sick two nights ago, and we were forced to get off the train."
Edna interrupted Nathan. "I just wanted to warn you, in case no one else had. She's a lying trickster. And a hussy."
Nathan's smile faded as he stared at Janie. "I think you must be mistaken."
"No mistake. She tried to coerce my boy, my Albert into marrying her. She seduced him and almost ruined his reputation and then lied about it when I confronted her."
Janie couldn't bear to see Nathan's confusion or the judgment that would surely cross his face. She turned her back, staring at the empty train tracks and the prairie beyond.
Wind blew strands of her hair into her face, causing her eyes to water. That must be it.
The train whistle blew from far off. Sh
e could see the black-and-red engine and colorful painted cars approaching in the distance, a line of gray smoke rising from the steam. The whistle blew again, momentarily muting the conversation behind her.
"—been a mistake," Nathan was saying.
"There was no mistake," Edna said sharply.
Oh, there had been. Janie had made the most monumental mistake in falling for Albert in the first place.
"If she was innocent, why'd her father up and close their store? The entire family left town in the night, like thieves, the lot of them."
It hadn't been like that at all, though Nathan had no reason not to believe Edna.
The train rushed closer. Its brakes squealed now, and the whistle tooted again, ending Janie's chance to hear anything else Edna had to say about her.
The train pushed into the station on a rush of warm air. Janie closed her eyes against an onslaught of tears.
She definitely didn't want Nathan to see her weep. But she was unsure whether she could hold back her tears for the entire ride back to Calvin.
Her only intention in getting off that train with Nathan had been to help him through his sickness. But with Edna's false accusations, would her lie to get them into the boardinghouse seem more sinister?
Would he think she'd done it to trap him into a relationship he didn't want? He'd made it clear enough in his letter that all he wanted from her was friendship.
This was a disaster.
And she still had to face him to get on the train.
She blinked rapidly, her pride refusing to show how deeply she'd been affected by what had just happened.
The train chugged twice before coming to a complete stop. The doors opened, and the conductor shouted, "All aboard!"
She sensed Nathan beside her, from the corner of her eye saw the curve of his shoulder and the brim of his hat.
She stumbled on the smooth metal step to the train, and he took her arm. This close, she couldn't avoid seeing his face.
He didn't smile. His face was an unreadable mask.
Her heart thundered in her ears.
If only the compartment were full, that there weren’t two seats together.
But of course, there were plenty of places for them to sit.
Nathan followed her into the empty row and sat beside her, arms crossed over his chest.
She couldn't help the tremble of her mouth, could only pray he hadn't seen.
She almost wished he would ask. Speaking of Albert was painful. There had been no seduction on her part. Albert had charmed her. He’d come courting, and she'd fallen fast. They'd met secretly. He'd told her he wanted to marry her and pushed for more physical intimacy than she'd been comfortable with. That's when Edna had burst in and spewed her accusations against Janie.
More had followed, to everyone Edna knew. She'd seemed to forget, or ignore, Albert's part in their assignation.
Janie didn't like talking about it. But the silence that stretched between her and Nathan was more painful than revealing her naivety and shame.
Especially when it stretched for a minute. Five minutes. Ten.
And then an hour.
She kept her gaze on the window. Scenery passed, but she didn't see any of it.
Any hope she'd felt on the short walk to the train station was obliterated. Gone.
Nathan would never see her the same way again.
Hussy.
Seductress.
She was the only one who heard the sound of her heart breaking.
Chapter 19
A dreary, rainy afternoon had kept the store empty most of the day. Several days had passed since Maisey's dinner party. Charlotte had felt well enough to venture down to chat with Liza for a good half hour earlier, and Liza had gotten the chance to hold baby William. He'd snoozed tucked up against her shoulder. William Senior was sequestered in the storeroom, catching up on accounting reports where he'd fallen behind.
Nuzzling her cheek against the softness of the baby's cap of downy hair had brought such a strong desire for a baby of her own that Liza had to blink against the sting of tears.
For much of her childhood, she'd dreamed of becoming a mother. Imagined what her husband might be like, how many children they'd have.
And then she'd told Edna Rockwell that Janie and Albert had snuck away, and everything had snowballed from there. She'd caused Janie's anguish, caused the family to lose all the faithful customers from Cottonwood Cove.
Now she quashed any dreams of a family for herself. She would be content to find Janie a match and to make good on the family's store. It was the penance she deserved.
Soon enough, the baby had fussed for his mama, and the two of them had returned upstairs, leaving Liza alone in the store to outlast the gloomy afternoon.
Liza was standing on a stool using a duster to attack the high shelves behind the counter when the door opened on a blast of wind and rain.
She startled, clutching the nearest shelf to steady herself as she glanced over her shoulder.
Rob Darcy came inside, water dripping from his hat and slicker. The door closed behind him, shutting out the sound of distant thunder, a reminder of their adventure on the plain weeks ago.
She stared, sure her mouth hung open as he took his hat off and swept one hand down his face. His hair was rumpled and dark.
He stood there, dripping on the floor and returning her stare.
The moment seemed to stretch. The tick of the clock on the shelf behind her magnified, the only sound other than her own breathing and the drips falling from his clothes to the floor.
"Mr. Darcy." She stepped off the stool, careful not to lose her balance on legs that suddenly felt weak and wobbly.
Her movement seemed to galvanize him.
"I was afraid you'd have returned home."
His words rang loudly in the empty store, or else his presence had discombobulated her to make it seem so.
"I plan to catch the train on Tuesday." Charlotte was much recovered, and Kitty's birthday was in ten days. Mama had sent a letter that she was wanted at home.
"Tuesday," he repeated.
She couldn't imagine what he might've needed from the shop that he'd braved the rainstorm for.
He stared at her in a way that made a blush rise in her cheeks. His presence caused a flash of memory from the afternoon Mr. Wickham had come into the store, the way he'd looked at her.
Somehow, Rob's look was more intense.
She didn't know how to feel about it. She hid the duster behind the counter and pressed both hands against the countertop.
"Was there something specific you came in to find?"
Unless she was mistaken, her words caused a glint in his eyes.
Rob clutched his hat between his hands. Surely he was ruining the brim. "No, I—" He cut himself off and shrugged almost helplessly.
"Liza?" Mr. Collins called from the storeroom. A little relieved, she heard his footsteps approach and turned to see what he needed.
He emerged carrying a sheaf of papers that he tapped idly with a pencil.
A surge of wind and the scent of rain brought her head back around in time to see the back of Rob's slicker as he ducked outside, back into the storm.
She was left with her mouth hanging slightly open.
"Was that—?"
"Mr. Darcy," she told Collins. "He appeared suddenly and then left just the same way."
"Huh." But Collins seemed only absently interested. "Do you remember seeing a box of brass belt buckles?"
She followed him into the back to help locate it. She couldn't help sending one more look over her shoulder to the door.
How strange.
The entire episode stayed with her all day and into the evening, long after she'd retired from a quiet supper with Maisey and Priscilla.
She wished Janie were here to talk to. And possibly giggle about Rob's actions. What had driven him to visit the store? It was a conundrum, and she hated not knowing!
Was Janie still grieving the loss
of her relationship with Nathan?
Liza needed to see her sister, to make sure she was all right. Tuesday couldn't come soon enough.
* * *
After two days of storms, the weather in Sheridan cleared, and they experienced a balmy summer day.
Mr. Collins relieved her for a lunch break, and Liza took her sandwich and walked along the city streets, window shopping.
Mr. Collins had paid her a tidy sum for all her help with the shop, and she could surprise Mama and the girls with some baubles. Maybe she'd find a pretty bonnet for Janie.
She paused on a street corner, satisfied to watch the bustle of people on the street. A carriage rolled along, drawn by a pair of matched black horses. That first evening, she'd been frightened of the city's very bustle. And there was a part of her that missed home, missed the quiet streets of Calvin and her shared bedroom above the store.
But she was glad she'd come. Glad to have had this experience.
And she hoped that she could take some of what she'd learned working in Collins's store home to make Papa's store a success.
She still didn't know what to make of Rob's appearance. She couldn't fathom why he'd come, and it bothered her, not knowing.
She was pondering his possible motives when someone stopped on the street corner next to her and cleared his throat.
She looked up into Charlie's smiling face.
"Charlie!"
He tipped his hat to her. "Hello, Miss Bennett. You sure looked like you were woolgathering."
She laughed, unable to keep from returning his warm smile. "I'm afraid you caught me." She held up the remains of her sandwich, then tucked them into a cloth napkin from her pocket. "I'm enjoying one of my last breaks for lunch, doing a little window shopping, and I lost track of myself."
"Then perhaps it's a good thing I saw you and stopped to say hello. I'd hate for you to end up hopelessly lost. Would you allow me to escort you back to the Collinses' store?"
She took his arm, and they fell into step. For some reason, being on his arm made her think of Rob. Once again, she realized that Rob was surrounded by decent friends. How did someone like him ended up connected to people like Charlie and Nathan?
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