by Rose Gordon
“How do you feel about Williamsburg County, Jess?”
“I don’t know.”Her steps slowed and she tilted her head upward as if she were in deep contemplation.“I loved growing up there and I always thought it’d be the perfect place to have kids—”she shrugged— “but to some Edgecomb, Montana probably holds the same appeal.”
Joel took her meaning.“Another similarity, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, do you have someone who’ll be waiting at the train station in Montana for you, too?”
“If she is, she’ll have to keep on waitin’.”Joel cast her a sidelong glance.“Or are you talking about yourself?”
“I’m not planning to go to Edgecomb.”
“Good, because I’m not sure if I’d be able to let you.”
“Let me, huh?”she asked in mock indignation“Well, if we’re now starting to‘let’each other do things, I’ll let you fix the axle while I watch.”
Joel pulled a face.“And you say I’ma fiend.”
Chapter Eleven
Joel might be too softhearted.
Nah, just too polite. Particularly to those who were elderly…and senile.
In the three hours since Joel had begun working on the broken axle Jessie had heard him utter no less than six curse words and even damn Mr. Baker to a rusty tool wasteland.
“I think he already lives in one of those,”Jessie quipped.
“And if I ever see him again, he might die in one too.”
Jessie pressed her lips together to keep her mirth firmly locked inside.“Can I help?”
“No.”He tossed down his wrench and started banging on the long wooden piece with his hand.“I think I have it now.”
“Oh good, so we can be on our way again?”She hadn’t meant to sound so excited. Oh wait, yes, she did. All afternoon she’d been full of giddy excitement.
“I hate to be the worm in your apple, but we’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Jessie looked around them.“You mean we’re staying here. On the side of the road,”she added for clarification.
“Yup and yup.”Joel squinted his eyes up at the setting sun.“I’d say we have less than an hour before the sun is gone. That’s not enough time for us to get to an inn and I don’t want to take a chance on the axle breaking again when it’s dark.”
“A—all right.”Jessie looked around at the trees.“What are we going to eat?”
“Food,”Joel said around the handle of the chisel he was holding between his lips.
“You know, Joel, if I didn’t love you so much, I just might throttle you.”
Joel’s head snapped up and his chisel fell to the ground.“You love me?”
“Yes, and it’s a shame because right now I’d like nothing more than to throttle you.”
Joel laughed.“Well, if it’s any consolation, the feeling is mutual. Both of them.”
“Why would you want to throttle me?”she asked, slapping her open palm against her chest.“What have I done?”
“I didn’t mean right this minute,”he amended. He twisted the bolt on the side of the wagon wheel into place then stood.“Do we have anything left from the mercantile?”
Jessie took a quick inventory.“One apple, a handful of nuts, two strips of buffalo jerky, and a half a stick of licorice.”
“Sounds like you’ll have a feast.”
“And you?”
Joel shot her a sheepish expression.“I noticed there was a trap about a quarter of a mile from here. It had a rabbit in it.”
Jessie’s stomach roiled. She’d never been a lover of jerky, particularly buffalo, but compared to a rabbit it sounded delicious.
“Can you gather up some wood while I go get my dinner?”
Jessie quickly went about gathering any twigs and sticks she could find. Having seen no reason to pack her mother’s apron, she lifted up the bottom of her long skirt and used it as a makeshift apron. She looked down at her collection. Just a few more, she thought, bending to pick up another stick.
“That’s a sight a man could get used to seeing.”
Jessie jumped, spilling all of her kindling into a pile at her feet as she dropped the hem of her skirt back to where it belonged.“Looks like your fire will be right here,”she said with her best smile.
“Good a spot as any, I suppose.”He set his rabbit down next to Jessie’s pile of sticks, then walked over to the wagon and started running his hand along the underside of the bench. A minute later he held up his hands.“A knife and flint,”he called, shoving his items into his pocket. Walking back toward her, he stopped and picked up a large log. He dropped the log about five feet from her pile of sticks.“Your throne.”
She thanked him and made herself as comfortable as she could on the log.
Around her, Joel went to work. He separated the sticks from the twigs, then used his knife and flint to start a small fire of twigs and dried leaves. Once there was no danger of the wind blowing out his flame he started adding larger twigs and small sticks.
Jessie bit her lip. She’d always loved watching Joel make their fire when they’d sleep beneath the stars. He walked over to a dead tree and jumped on it, cracking it. He jumped again, this time breaking off a three-foot segment at the top. He picked it up and carried it to the fire, then went back and broke off a branch. Joel had never been one to build a fire bigger than they needed and was always mindful of making a mess.
“Do you remember the time I’d snuck out of my house and we spent the night on the Rawlings land?”
Joel laughed.“Yes. The thought of old man Rawlings holding his rifle haunts my dreams to this day.”
“Mrs. Rawlings was actually very kind to me.”Jessie would always be thankful to Mrs. Rawlings who’d somehow managed to talk her husband out of escorting Jessie back to her home in the middle of the night. She’d always wondered if people suspected how hostile her living conditions were but she’d never been brave enough to ask.
Joel turned his back to her and speared his rabbit.
“Thank you.”
Joel nodded.“I know how you feel about that,”he said, holding his dinner over the fire to cook.“I don’t know how this will taste, but you’re welcome to sample it with me.”
Jessie patted the paper bag from the mercantile.“No, I’ll suffer the buffalo jerky; but thank you for the offer.”
Buffalo jerky, she soon learned wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it’d be. That or she was on the verge of starvation.
Around them, the sun set and the crickets started their nightly serenade. Joel and Jessie sat by the fire’s glow reliving memories and laughing like they were kids again.
“I love you,”Joel said quietly, quelling her laughter.
“I love you, too, Joel. I always have.”
Joel looked down at his boots.“I have, too. I just didn’t think—”Though he broke off, she understood his meaning.
“If you loved me, then why did you send me away?”She hadn’t meant to ask him that, but didn’t regret it once it was out.
A shadow crossed his face.“I think it’s time for bed, Jess.”
Jessie wanted to press him further, but didn’t want to ruin their evening.“All right, I’ll let that pass.”She playfully wagged a finger at him.“For tonight.”
“Thank you.”Joel started stomping out the fire.“I’ll be up to the wagon just as soon as I get the fire out.”
An idea came to mind and Jessie hurried up to the wagon.
“What’s going on?”Joel peered down at the bed of the wagon from where he stood on the lowered tailboard.
“Our bed,”Jessie said, patting the dress she’d spread out next to her.“We’ll use these two dresses as our blankets and the travel bag as our pillow.”
“You’re not afraid of them being crushed?”he teased.
“I don’t care. I’m not marrying Mr. Perfect, remember?”
Chapter Twelve
Anna hoped Jessie and Joel were having a more enjoyable trip to Charleston than she and her pa had had so far.
Traveling from New York to South Carolina had been quite comfortable since they’d been able to take a train. Riding on a hard wagon bench for the past day and a half? Not quite as enjoyable. But at least she was safe, she reminded herself.
After Mr. Wilcox had awakened, he was less pleasant than before, if such a thing were possible. Pa shooed him from the house and ordered Herman to hitch up the wagon and Anna to change and pack a few comfortable gowns; she was going with him. It was for the best and she understood that, but still if she got one more splinter from the wagon seat she might scream!
“Pa, can we stop soon?”
Pa’s worried eyes met hers. The lines on his forehead and around his eyes spoke volumes: he was just as tired as her. They’d ridden well past midnight the night before and had started again as soon as the sun started to peek out from the horizon. With every town they passed through Anna would ask someone how far they were from Charleston. In the last town she’d been told seventeen miles. That was at least two hours ago, which would still give them plenty of time to get to Charleston in the morning if they left again at dawn.
“I think we’d better.”
Anna swallowed. Rarely did her father admit defeat or anything of the sort. He was much too proud for that. She admired him for that, and hated him for it at the same time.
Just when Anna thought the weights pulling on her eyelids were going to win the war, Pa stopped the horses in front of an inn. It wasn’t as fancy as the one she’d stayed in back in New York or in Charlotte, but compared to another night in the back of the wagon, Anna had no complaints and after a warm meal and a bath, she crawled into the large bed, leaned her head back against the pillows and drifted off to sleep.
~*~
Bang! Bang! Bang!“Anna, wake up! We need to go!”
Anna shot straight up in her bed. It was a quarter past seven. How had she overslept? Wait, that was easy. She was tired. The better question was how had her father overslept? She wiped the sleep from her eyes and swung her feet over the side of the bed, then set them on the floor.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Meet me in front of the hotel in ten minutes,”he said in a tone that brooked no arguments.
She stood in front of the cracked mirror for a minute listening as her father’s heavy footfalls grew softer and softer. With a yawn, she bent to retrieve the skirt she’d worn yesterday and a fresh shirtwaist. Some things could be worn more than one day. A shirtwaist was not one of them. And neither were stockings. Quickly, she rolled on a new pair of stockings then jammed her feet into her boots. If she wasn’t downstairs in her allotted ten minutes, Pa would be barging in and demanding to know why it was taking her too long. Women, he’d often say, spent too much time readying themselves for a man who wouldn’t even notice.
She glanced at her hair in the mirror and grimaced. Oh well.She’d fix it in the wagon. At least it’d give her something to do for a while. She looked around the room, making sure she had everything she’d brought in with her. Content, she picked up her travel bag and made her way to the hallway.
The plush carpet squished beneath her feet with every step she took. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or just plain unsettling. She pushed the thought from her mind and scurried toward the stairs. Gripping the banister with her free hand, she carefully began to descend the staircase with all of the grace of Queen Victoria. Halfway down, she froze.
“Jessie?”
Chapter Thirteen
Jessie’s blood froze in her veins. Had she just heard someone say her name or was she imagining things?
Panic gripping her, threatening to suffocate her at any moment, she slowly turned around to see who’d called her name. Anna. She knew something was familiar about that voice. Another wave of panic washed over her. How did Anna find her? Did she bring Jessie’s father? She swallowed convulsively. Joel was out in the stables better repairing the axle for the trip home while she waited for him in the taproom. They’d been fortunate it had held together long enough to get them here, but another mile or two and they might have been walking again.
Jessie forced herself to stand.“Anna.”
Her friend came down the stairs and straight over to Jessie, wrapping her in a hug.“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,”Jessie said then pulled back.
“Your hair looks like mine,”Anna teased, plucking a piece of hay from the tangled mess on Jessie’s head.
Jessie would have laughed when she realized Anna’s hair was just as out-of-sorts as her own, but fear of her father walking in at any moment quelled any sort of humor whatsoever.“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,”Anna said without hesitation.
Jessie opened her mouth to ask her why when all of the sudden, the front door of the inn flew open on its hinges.“Anna! We need to—”Mr. Fitzgerald’s words died on his tongue and his eyes grew as large as Mama’s favorite tea saucers.“Oh.”
Jessie swallowed uncomfortably. If Mr. Fitzgerald was here did that mean Jessie’s father was here, too? Or had he just sent Mr. Fitzgerald to do his bidding?“Where is my father?”she forced herself to ask.
“Harassing everyone you know about your whereabouts, if I had to guess,”Mr. Fitzgerald said.
“So he’s not here?”
Mr. Fitzgerald shook his head.
“No,”Anna said, placing her hand on Jessie’s arm.“He came by to look for you the other day.”
The next five minutes were an awkward and emotional blur as Anna informed Jessie about her father’s visit the day after she and Joel had left.
“Thank you.”She squeezed Anna’s hands and smiled at Mr. Fitzgerald.“Thank you both for protecting me.”
“Don’t thank me,”Mr. Fitzgerald said.“Anna was the one who seemed to be prepared to take your secret to her grave.”He looked around the room, his face growing taut.“You didn’t come all this way alone, did you?”
“No, sir. Our axle broke yesterday and Joel is in the stables mending it.”
At the mention of Joel’s name, Mr. Fitzgerald’s eyebrows rose.“Joel Cunningham drove you here?”he said almost as if he were in awe.
What did Mr. Fitzgerald care? Jessie swallowed her unease and inclined her chin.“Yes, sir. And I’ll be leaving with him, too.”
Beside her, Anna snickered.
Mr. Fitzgerald threw his hands up into the air.“I have no plans to kidnap you, young lady. I was just concerned for your safety and relieved to know you were in such safe, capable hands.”
Now it was Jessie’s turn for her eyebrows to shoot toward her hairline. What on earth had possessed Mr. Fitzgerald to elevate Joel to such a high standard? She smiled. It truly didn’t matter what had or hadn’t happened to give Mr. Fitzgerald such a high opinion of Joel, but it was nice—refreshing even—that someone had taken the time to see him for whom he really was.“Speaking of his capable hands, his are in the stables repairing our broken axle.”
Mr. Fitzgerald pursed his lips and idly tapped a finger against his thigh.“Do you ladies think you’ll be all right?”
“Yes, Pa,”Anna said.“Go help him.”
With no further prompting necessary, Mr. Fitzgerald was gone.
Anna turned toward Jessie.“Can we go back to my room upstairs and fix each other’s hair?”
Jessie sputtered with laughter. Leave it to Anna to always want to be immaculate.“Only if you tell me about how Saturday night’s dance went.”Anna groaned and Jessie looped her arm through her friends.“That good?”
“Worse than even you could ever imagine, Jessie.”
Oh. That was bad.
The pair entered Anna’s room and before Jessie could say anything, Anna was pushing her down on the stool in front of the vanity.“Yours is worse than mine,”Anna said by way of explanation, pulling out a little clump of hay.
“All right, so am I right to assume Willie didn’t fall on his knees in the middle of everyone and declare his everlasting love for you, tell you he was
incomplete without you and beg you to be by his side for all times?”
“Aren’t you a hopeless romantic,”Anna retorted. She began removing the pins from Jessie’s hair.“And just to clarify, he did none of those things.”She pulled the final pin, making Jessie’s long red hair tumble down from its loose, sloppy bun.“He didn’t speak to me at all.”She snorted.“He didn’t even look at me.”
Jessie’s heart hurt for her friend and she reached one hand up to touch Anna’s forearm. Meeting her eyes in the mirror, she said,“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I did have some male attention.”Something about the way she said that didn’t sit well with Jessie.
“Oh? Who?”Jessie closed her eyes, relaxing in the sensation of Anna pulling her large hairbrush through Jessie’s hair.
“Lach-lan Ross,”Anna choked out.
Jessie’s eyes flew open.“Oh heavens, Anna. Anyone but him.”
“I know.”Anna’s hand stopped mid-swipe, her face red and her eyes shuttered.“I think—”she swallowed hard— “I think my father might consider it.”
“No, he wouldn’t,”Jessie tried to reassure her friend and if he did, Jessie would just have to find a way to make him see reason.
“Yes, he would,”Anna said adamantly.“He—”A sob wracked her body and her hand flew to her mouth.“Forgive—”
“Stuff it, Anna,”Jessie said as kindly as she could.“I don’t need to forgive you. We all cry.”She tried to look anywhere around the room when she said that part because well, though she did cry, she still didn’t like to admit it. Finally, she looked at Anna again.“Even I’d cry—hysterically—if I thought I’d be married off to Lachlan Ross.”Anyone with a brain would. Jessie tapped her fingers along the edge of the vanity.“Keep working the tangles out of my hair, I’m thinking of a plan to keep you safe from the clutches of Lachlan Ross.”
