Chapter 12
Twelve
F rom her spot in the canoe, Sage’s heart gave an extra beat as Jackson hiked out of the woodland. Even as a wealthy gentleman, he seemed so at ease in the wilderness, his footsteps certain, his stride unwavering.
He made a dashing picture in his blue suit with his gold watch chain hanging from his waistcoat pocket, his fine felt hat, and his polished shoes. Although he had changed his clothing before leaving on their trip, he hadn’t shaved, and now a dark layer of stubble coated his jaw and chin, making him look only more darkly handsome in that brooding, moody way of his.
Not that she minded his brooding, moody way. In fact, the more she got to know him, the more she appreciated how his mind worked. She was coming to realize that sometimes his silence meant he’d retreated into his brain and was likely solving a complex problem, coming up with a new invention, or figuring out details that she couldn’t begin to understand.
At other times, his silence meant he was probably thinking too deeply about past pains and problems. For as intricately as he thought about the positive things, he also apparently thought just as intricately about all the negative, making it difficult for him to move on.
She appreciated that he was complex and deep and emotional. During his especially quiet moments, she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with idle chatter and instead was content to let him speak when he had something to say.
Regardless of his shifting moods, he’d been kind and polite to her since leaving Victoria, so much so that she felt like a real lady and companion, not the maidservant she really was.
Although she hadn’t wanted to leave Augusta behind, Sage could admit she was glad to have Jackson accompanying her.
It was possible Augusta was trying to facilitate something between her and Jackson. After all, Augusta’s behavior had been odd since awakening. Had she feigned tiredness so that Jackson would have to step in and do the gentlemanly thing and travel with her? After the conversation the previous day about Jackson, Sage wouldn’t put it past Augusta to start meddling.
In spite of Augusta’s possible scheming, Sage had no intention of letting herself get carried away by the trip with Jackson. She also wouldn’t let herself get carried away by his intensity toward her at times. She had to remember that was just the way he was and that it didn’t mean he was attracted to her.
Well, maybe it did hint at some attraction. She would be na?ve to deny the measure of awareness that had developed. But just because desire was developing didn’t mean they needed to act upon it.
No, they would both remain professional and polite.
Even so, as he crossed the embankment toward the canoe, she admired his handsomeness once again. There was nothing wrong with admitting to his good looks. It was an undeniable and undisputable fact that everyone could see, and she was merely acknowledging it.
He reached the edge of the canoe and nodded at their guide, the quiet Native who’d expertly handled the canoe and was now sitting with his paddle across his lap.
“Any news of Willow?” She couldn’t hold back the question any longer. The anticipation had been building inside her with every passing mile. When they’d first stopped on the island, she’d nearly gone faint with the possibility of seeing Willow. After they’d started on again, she’d realized that finding her sister might not be as easy as she’d first believed and that she needed to be patient.
But patience was difficult to facilitate today. She’d been so excited to get going this morning, that she’d almost decided not to pay a visit next door to the Firths’ and try to restore the jewels to their rightful owner. While Jackson had been getting ready, she’d gathered the bracelet, the hairpin, and the brooch and placed them into a velvet pouch that Augusta had discarded after the purchase of a new necklace.
With the velvet pouch containing the pilfered jewelry, she’d been bold enough to knock on the Firths’ front door rather than the servants’ entrance, mainly because she’d wanted an audience with Mrs. Firth and not any of the servants.
As it turned out, the butler had sent her away without letting her step a foot inside. Even though she’d indicated it was a matter of great importance, he’d frowned and told her coldly that the lord and lady of the manor were still slumbering and could not be disturbed.
From the disdain in the butler’s expression, he’d made it obvious she’d overstepped the boundaries of propriety. Perhaps she’d begun to think too highly of herself after the kindness Augusta had shown to her.
Sage had tucked the jewelry away in her chamber until she could enlist Augusta’s assistance in returning the pieces. Augusta would be able to speak directly to the Firths and relay everything Sage had witnessed in the backyard. The sooner the better so that the thief wouldn’t be able to take anything more.
Jackson tugged at the canoe, swinging it around so that the side landed in the sandy stretch of the beach. Then he reached a hand out to her.
Her heartbeat gave a quick thump against her ribs. Did this mean what she thought it did?
His eyes met hers, and the gray-blue was light and clear as if reflecting the sunshine on the water.
“She’s here?” Sage whispered as she placed her hand in Jackson’s.
“I believe so.” His fingers folded around hers, his touch firm, solid, and steady.
With a gentleness and carefulness that made her feel like she was a fine crystal vase, he assisted her out of the canoe and helped her to plant her feet firmly on the beach. Even after she was grounded, he held on to her hand. He was staring at where their hands connected as if he was searching for the answer to a riddle, likely getting lost in his thoughts.
The excitement inside her was swelling. What if Willow really did live here? “Jackson?” The informal address slipped out before she could stop it.
It clearly surprised him as much as it did her, and his gaze darted back to hers. Thankfully, he didn’t seem irritated by her crossing the class boundary with him.
“Will you take me to her?”
He nodded and started to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm as if he intended to walk by her side and assist her as if she were a proper lady. She couldn’t let him do that, could she?
Before she could offer an objection, the shout of her name sounded from somewhere up the trail. “Sage?”
It was Willow’s voice.
“That’s her.” Hot tears sprang to the backs of Sage’s eyes.
Jackson squeezed her hand, as if sensing the emotion of the moment.
In the next instant, Willow broke through the woodland at a run. Her face was flushed, her blue eyes bright, and her face wreathed with a smile. She was hatless, with strands of red-blond hair having come loose from her braid. Her garments were faded and worn. And her skin was brown from the sun. But never had a face been more beautiful than the one across the beach.
At the sight of Sage, Willow shrieked even as tears coursed down her cheeks. Picking up her pace, Willow crossed the last of the distance. Before Sage could break away from Jackson and take a step, Willow flung herself forward.
With tears now sliding down her cheeks, Sage embraced her sister tightly, clinging to her as they both cried.
Finally, Willow pulled back, sniffling and laughing. She held Sage at arm’s length, sweeping her gaze over her. “Look at you. You’re a real fine lady.” In Augusta’s cast-off garments, Sage supposed she did look like a fine lady, and she didn’t mind that she did.
Sage examined Willow in the same measure, and this time confirmed what she thought she’d felt during the hug—a gently rounded abdomen. “And look at you. You’re expecting.” At the same moment, she caught sight of Caleb, who’d obviously followed Willow down to the beach. He stood near the trail, holding himself back, obviously not wanting to interrupt their reunion.
He was as brawny and muscular as he’d always been and just as stoic. He nodded at her, his eyes holding welcome. He wore the same flat-brimmed hat that he had in Manchester, and the clothing was the same too, just more frayed. His skin was sun-bronzed, especially his hands and arms where his sleeves were rolled up.
“Hi, Caleb,” Sage said, still not sure what to think about Willow and Caleb being together after so many years of the two of them insisting they were only friends.
Caleb crossed toward her. “It’s good to see you, Sage.”
“It’s not only good”—Willow gave a small hop of happiness before throwing her arms around Sage again—“it’s absolutely wonderful!”
They hugged again for another long moment before Willow pulled back abruptly and looked directly at Jackson, who had released Sage’s hand for all the hugs, but who was still standing next to her.
Jackson was watching the interchange with his usual intensity and brooding eyes. He snagged Sage’s gaze, his eyes seeming to ask her if she was okay.
She offered him a happy smile in return.
“And who is this?” Willow’s gaze was bouncing back and forth between Sage and Jackson.
Before Sage could think of a way to graciously introduce Jackson and explain who he was, he made his own introduction. “I’m Jackson, a friend of Sage’s. I’m pleased to meet you.” He reached for Willow’s hand, bowed, and placed a polite kiss on her hand.
Then he turned to Caleb and thrust out his hand. Caleb took the offering in a firm shake, all the while studying Jackson and probably noting that Jackson was in a class far above them. It was all too easy to see by the way he spoke, his mannerisms, and his clothing.
“It’s good to meet a friend of Sage’s,” Willow said, glancing now at Tcoosma in the canoe. The older man had leaned back, pulled his hat over his face, and seemed to be resting. “I’m assuming David decided to come with you?”
Sage’s smile faded. This was the crushing moment she’d dreaded the whole voyage over from England, the moment when she had to admit her life had fallen apart and nothing had turned out as perfectly as she’d planned.
Jackson slipped his hand to the small of her back. The touch of his fingers was light, as if to reassure her—or perhaps remind her—that he was by her side.
He was looking at her with his jaw rigid and his eyes hard with anger—toward David? He already knew she avoided talking about David. Maybe he’d drawn the conclusion that David had hurt her. If so, he was right.
His fingers pressed into her back gently again.
Some of the tension inside her eased, and she returned her focus on to Willow. She may as well tell her sister the truth. It would come out soon enough. “David fell in love with someone else and broke our engagement so that he could marry her.”
“Oh, Sage.” Willow’s face didn’t hold pity, only compassion.
Caleb was standing beside Willow and wrapped his arm around her. She leaned into him, clearly finding her support in him just as she always had. Was that what made their relationship work? That they were there for each other during the hard times?
Sage had never had that kind of relationship with David. They’d always known each other, since they’d grown up in the same neighborhood. But David hadn’t started showing an interest in her until after she’d matured into a woman, the year she’d turned sixteen, when she’d begun to draw the attention of plenty of young men in the area. She’d picked David because not only had he been good-looking, but he’d had a steady job at the catgut factory and had ambitions to rise in the ranks at the factory, would be able to afford their own flat, and could take care of her and their children.
Everything had seemed perfect with their relationship. They’d gotten along well and enjoyed spending time together. She’d even thought she was in love with him.
After she’d been let go at the mill, he’d claimed that her lack of a job hadn’t mattered, and she’d believed everything would be okay. But the truth was, her life and her family’s had only gotten harder with the unemployment, especially after Dad was laid off. They’d struggled with finding food and fuel and hadn’t even been sure they’d be able to stay in their tenement.
As the situation worsened, she’d suggested moving up the wedding date to take the burden off her family, so that they would have one less mouth to feed. But David hadn’t seen the need to change their plans. Maybe his lack of compassion in her hardships—even his disinterest in Willow’s leaving and Mum’s death—should have been a warning that he wasn’t the right man. But she’d ignored the signs.
“I’m fine, truly.” Sage forced a smile. “Everything has worked out as it should.”
Willow studied Sage’s face for a moment as though trying to see the truth. Then she glanced at Jackson again before her lips curled up into a smile. “It sure looks that way.”
Sage shook her head. She couldn’t let Willow assume Jackson was a suitor. Before she could explain, Willow was tugging her into another hug. Then she began to guide her toward the path in the woodland.
Arm in arm, they made their way to Willow and Caleb’s home which was situated a short distance up the river trail and adjacent to another farm. Willow was excited to show Sage everything—the cabin with its addition, the new barn, her large garden, the land cleared for crops, the bountiful harvest, the bushels of food in the cellar along with dried and canned goods.
Willow and Caleb had worked hard to carve out their farm in the wilderness, and Sage was proud of her sister for all she’d accomplished. The roughness and simplicity of their log cabin and the log barn couldn’t compare to the fancy home she was living in with Augusta and Jackson. But it was more than either one of them could have dreamed of having back in Manchester.
At one point, Caleb returned to the portion of the interior of the barn where he’d been building a stall for their new dairy cow. Jackson offered to assist and went with him.
Time got away from Sage as she and Willow sat in chairs in the warm sunshine outside the cabin door, first sewing the curtains for the new addition and then plucking a chicken to set to roasting.
Willow was eager for news from home and wanted to hear all about everyone, not allowing Sage to leave out a single detail. They talked about their mum’s passing, how Dad’s health was deteriorating, what their sisters were doing, and what life in Manchester had been like before Sage left.
Willow also queried more into what had happened with David and what had led Sage to come to the colony ahead of their family. Sage didn’t hold anything back and told Willow about meeting Augusta, their voyage across the world, and what her life had been like as a lady’s maid.
In turn, Sage asked Willow about her voyage and all that had transpired when she’d arrived in the colony. Willow told her about the friends she’d made—including Juliet and Daisy—and how they’d become like family to her.
She also shared the whole exciting tale about working for the Manns at White Swan Farm, the key to the buried treasure, the danger she and Caleb had been in, and how they’d run away and hidden on Salt Spring Island to protect Caleb from Mr. Mann. She explained how they’d gotten married for convenience’s sake but how it hadn’t taken long for each of them to confess their true feelings and stop pretending that they didn’t love each other when they’d been in love for years.
“So,” Willow said, leaning back in her chair and studying the two men who’d stepped out of the barn and were conversing. “I know you said you’re not planning to get married and that Jackson is just a friend. But he definitely doesn’t see you as just a friend.”
Sage was taking out the seam in the waist of one of Willow’s skirts in order to give her more room for the baby growing inside her. At Willow’s statement—spoken much too loudly—heat rushed to Sage’s face. “Hush now, Willow.”
With both hands resting on the swell of her abdomen, Willow just laughed. “The fellow obviously can’t keep his eyes off you anytime you’re near.”
Sage cast a glance Jackson’s way. He was leaning casually against the split rail post of the corral. Sure enough, his gaze was riveted to her even as Caleb spoke to him. The moment their eyes connected, she expected Jackson to glance away, perhaps pretend he’d been busy with something else. But his attention didn’t waver. He even raised a brow as though to ask her how she was doing.
When had David ever asked her if she was okay? When had he ever raised a brow to see how she was doing? When had he ever really seen or known her—other than for admiring how she looked?
Here was this wealthy gentleman who had the temperament of a troll, yet he’d shown her more consideration and kindness in the past few days than David had in the years they’d been together.
Even so, nothing could come of the connection she and Jackson were forming. “I’m not interested.” She spoke in a hushed tone.
Willow snorted. “Oh yes you are.”
Jackson was still watching her, obviously not caring—as usual—that everyone could see him staring and that they were assuming things.
“Even if I were to find myself interested—which I won’t—I could never have all the qualities that he’d need in a wife. I would never be good enough.”
Willow’s smile faded, and she grew suddenly somber. “That’s not something the Sage I used to know would have said.”
“The Sage you used to know was prideful and thought she was better than everyone else.” Sage sat forward and turned her full attention on Willow, whose heart-shaped face with high cheekbones resembled hers in so many ways that they could have been twins.
Willow didn’t say anything, but a sad shadow fell over her eyes. Even so, she’d never looked more vibrant and whole and healthy than she did sitting in her chair with the sunshine browning even more of her skin, giving her a glow and life that had never been present in Manchester.
“I was filled with pride even with you.” Sage forced herself to say what was long overdue. “I compared myself to you, I believed I had the perfect life.”
“It’s in the past?—”
“No, Willow. I was wrong to compare us. I was wrong to be prideful. I was wrong to make you feel as though you were less than me.” She reached across the short distance between their two chairs and took hold of Willow’s hands. “I’ve learned that I’m far from perfect.”
“Nobody ever said you had to be.”
Sage wasn’t sure why she’d started to feel the pressure toward perfectionism. But it was still there, and she didn’t know if it would ever go away.
“I’ve only just met Jackson,” Willow said, watching Jackson, who had finally pushed away from the railing and was crossing toward them. “But I doubt he’ll want you to be perfect. In fact, I think he finds you pretty appealing just the way you are.”
It didn’t matter what Jackson thought. All that mattered was that Willow understood how sorry she was. “Will you forgive me, Willow?”
“Already done. It’s in the past.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m just glad you’re here and that we can start again.”
“Me too.”
Jackson was only a few feet away now. The afternoon would soon pass into evening, and no doubt he was ready to return to Victoria.
She gathered the mending in her lap and stood. “Is it time to go?” She wasn’t ready to depart yet, but she’d imposed upon Jackson longer than necessary.
He halted but a step from her. “No.” He reached out a hand as though he might touch her arm, but then he stuffed both hands into his trouser pockets.
“I can’t keep you any longer?—”
“I’m thinking we should stay overnight and leave in the morning.” He spoke as if he’d already made up his mind.
“Stay? Here?” Hope swelled swiftly at the prospect of a little more time with Willow.
“Caleb indicated that his friend Jonas could take us back to Victoria in a steamboat tomorrow morning.”
“Really?” Sage couldn’t hold in a smile for another second.
Jackson took in her smile, and the tightness in his expression softened. “I’ll go tell Tcoosma he can go.” Without waiting for her to say anything more, he strode away on the path that led to the adjacent homestead belonging to Elijah and his wife Frannie and Elijah’s brother Jonas.
Jackson was a striking contrast of opposites. He was the epitome of an English gentleman but as experienced and comfortable in the wilderness as a fur trapper. He was more intelligent than any person she’d ever known but also the most disorganized. He was consumed with his work but was also deeply caring about the people in his life.
“Oh, luv,” Willow said with a soft laugh. “You can protest all you want. But you won’t be able to resist that man for much longer, not when he treats you like you’re the only thing that matters in his life.”
Sage quickly tore her attention from Jackson’s retreating form. He didn’t treat her that way. But even as she tried to deny Willow’s observation, a part of her wished it were true.