Chapter 16
The weather had turned milder overnight, but it was the last day of November, and travel would become more and more unpredictable.
Caroline took the children outdoors before lunch to get rid of the fidgets. When they tired of playing chase, she helped them gather corn husks to craft into dolls and showed Noah how to make a spinning ‘buzz-saw’ toy from a large button and a piece of string.
“Dolls,” Jewel insisted, holding up a handful of husks.
“I’ll make them after lunch,” Caroline assured. “Let’s go watch the horses for a little while.”
Jackson had acquired a gelding in training that still wouldn’t accept a saddle, and he was working with him in the paddock.
When they reached the fence, Noah climbed until his head was above the top rail, and Caroline lifted Jewel into her arms, so she could see. “Shh,” she cautioned them. “We must be quiet so we don’t spook him.”
Jackson stood in the center, rope coiled in one hand, while the young gelding, a lean blue roan, stood at the far end, ears twitching, nostrils flaring.
Jackson didn’t rush him. He moved slowly and steadily, his voice low as he neared the animal, letting the rope drag in the dust behind him.
The horse snorted and sidestepped, eyes wide, hooves stamping the earth in short bursts of protest. But Jackson kept his posture loose, as if he had all morning to teach and nothing to prove.
“You’re more pride than muscle,” he said to the horse, a half-smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Same as I was at your age.”
Once the horse was used to the feel of rope dragged across its back, Jackson brought over a saddle blanket. The colt tossed his head but didn’t bolt when he brushed it along his neck, so Jackson placed the cloth over the withers and let it rest with all its weight.
The horse allowed it for a time, then shook it off with a kick and trotted away.
Jackson leaned down and picked up the saddle blanket, then acknowledged them with a wave.
Caroline shifted Jewel to one hip and lifted a hand to shade her eyes. “What’s his name?”
“Jonah,” Jackson replied.
“You let him off easy.”
“I respect his ability to kick me senseless.”
Caroline smiled. “He’s not the only one.”
Jackson chuckled and wiped his hands on his trousers, then walked toward the fence, boots scuffing through the hoof-pocked dirt. When he reached her, he laid the blanket over the rail and lifted his hat long enough to blot the perspiration from his brow.
Jewel grinned. “We watch you, Papa.”
“How’d I do?”
“Good!”
“I agree,” Caroline said. “I was teasing before. You’re good at this.”
Color glazed Jackson’s cheeks. “Jonah’s stubborn—thus the name—but he comes around if I give him time.”
Jewel squirmed in Caroline’s arms. “Bidness.”
“I’ll take her,” Noah said, climbing down.
“Thank you. I’ll be there in a few minutes to start lunch.” Caroline set Jewel on the ground then studied the gelding, who had ambled up to the saddle and was sniffing it.
The breeze lifted a loose curl near Caroline’s cheek. Jackson almost reached over and tucked it behind her ear without thinking. Instead, he stared at it, and a flash of something catching the sunlight as she moved.
His breathing stalled when he realized what it was. “You still have it, the silver comb.”
She turned to him with clear, honest eyes that tightened with regret at the corners.
“When you announced your engagement to Amanda, I thought you had given it to me as a parting gift. I was too upset to wear it, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.
” She touched it lightly, running her fingers over the etched roses.
“I brought it with me to give it back, but then I changed my mind about that, too.”
Knowing that she’d saved it all these years granted Jackson’s heart a small amount of peace. Maybe he still meant something to her after all. “I’m glad you kept it.”
He pushed off the rail. “I’ll work the horse a little while longer. Send Noah to get me when lunch is ready.”
Jonah blew and jumped sideways before Jackson got anywhere near him.
“Easy,” Jackson crooned. He cocked his head toward the road and listened. There was a carriage coming up the drive. He waited until it appeared and waved as Oliver Ames drove up into the yard and parked near the water trough.
Oliver jumped down and came over to where he and Caroline were standing. “Jackson.” He tipped his hat. “Miss Bennet.”
Jackson was within a hair’s breadth of correcting him regarding Caroline’s title when he realized Oliver hadn’t said Missus. “What brings you out?”
“When you didn’t show up in town yesterday, Celia asked me to ride out and make sure everything was all right.”
Jackson gave a quick upward glance and shook his head. “I should have known. I’m sorry you drove all this way for nothing. Can I offer you some feed for your trouble?”
“Naw. But thanks.”
“I’m sorry my decision to stay longer caused such a disruption,” Caroline said. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow. Would you help Jackson carry my trunk downstairs before you go?”
“Of course.” Oliver held up a finger and patted his pockets. “I almost forgot. A letter came for you, postmarked Greenvale, Pennsylvania.” He handed it over with a smile. “My trip wasn’t completely in vain.”
Caroline glanced at the envelope and promptly tucked it into the pocket of her coat. “I’ll go set aside the few items I need and latch the trunk.”
“Come have something to drink,” Jackson said to Oliver as she took off ahead. “If you’re not in a rush to get back, you can stay for lunch.”
The envelope didn’t bear a return address, but it didn’t need one. The angular, elegant penmanship was Walsh’s.
Caroline closed the door to the bedroom and skimmed the letter, to assure herself there was no emergency or grim news from home.
My dearest Caroline,
I’m writing to express my condolences on the loss of your sister. I was as shocked as you must’ve been, when I came to help Simon and discovered the house in mourning. He said you had left for Nebraska the previous day and did not know the date of your return.
Therefore, I pray this note reaches you in time, and that it finds you well and safe. Be assured all is well here, save for everyone’s grief. My thoughts and prayers will be with you until I see you again.
Yours faithfully,
Walsh
She breathed a sigh of relief followed by a deeper one of longsuffering, obligation, and doubt.
Walsh had begun paying calls only weeks after Jackson left. And though he hadn’t officially proposed, he’d made his feelings clear two years ago: he knew she didn’t love him, and he wanted her anyway.
Caroline suspected Walsh would have gotten down on bended knee already if he didn’t fear backing her into a corner and forcing a refusal. So long as they continued courting, he could keep her in his life.
Time spent with him was convenient and often enjoyable, but the fact he was a willing participant didn’t absolve her. Their lopsided alliance had limped around too long. It was time to reciprocate Walsh’s interest or set the miserable man free.
At the sound of boots and masculine voices below, Caroline pulled the bare essentials from her trunk, tucked the letter inside, and fastened the latch and the straps. “It’s ready to go,” she told them when she came downstairs to prepare lunch.
Noah and Jewel were playing with Noah’s wooden horses in the corner of the room.
“Stay out of your Papa’s way,” she cautioned.
While the men grunted and wagged the cumbersome trunk out of the bedroom and down the stairs, Caroline stirred up a bowl of cornmeal batter and mixed in chopped ham left over from breakfast. “I’m heating the skillet,” she called over her shoulder. “The corn cakes will be ready shortly.”
The floor vibrated under her feet as they set the trunk down with a thump.
“I appreciate the offer,” Mr. Ames said, catching his breath, “but I can’t stay.”
She crossed the room to tell him a proper goodbye. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He nudged the trunk with the toe of his boot. “This is going to be awful heavy for you and Jackson to manage. I can take it now and hold it for you till you get to Sagebrush Springs, if you like.”
Caroline looked to Jackson, who raised his brows and shrugged, so she took a moment and considered her options.
She didn’t want to inconvenience Jackson or get stuck on his farm, all because they couldn’t hoist her trunk onto his wagon. And leaving would be difficult now that they’d mended fences. If her trunk was already in town, she wouldn’t be tempted to stay.
“Yes. Please, take it.”
Mr. Ames gave a nod. “Hang on,” he said to Jackson. “I’ll go pull the carriage closer.”
Caroline returned to the stove, leaving Jackson standing by her trunk with a vague expression.
He saw Mr. Ames off then kept to himself most of the way through the meal. It made her sad, because her time with him was dwindling.
“Are you going to work Jonah some more when you go back out?” she asked, hoping to spark some conversation.
“Maybe. I’ll have to gauge his mood.”
Jewel was nodding off, so Caroline carried her to the fluffy chair and covered her with a blanket.
She had finished eating but sat back down. Jackson was still picking at his food, and the dishes could wait.
“May I be excused?” Noah asked.
Jackson nodded.
Noah stood and headed for the back door, then paused and turned around. “May I go outside?”
“Yes, but stay close by.”
“I will.”
“I’m going to miss those two,” Caroline said with genuine melancholia. “Mother doesn’t speak of it much, because she doesn’t want to hurt Father, but she longs to meet them. They had been planning a trip when he fell ill.”
“I know,” Jackson said, barely looking up from his plate. “Your father wrote to me to arrange it. Before I could send a reply, we got the telegram, informing us of his disability.”
“Maybe, on the way to your sister’s, you can bring them by.”
His head popped up. “I can ask Peggy, but I doubt she wants to make such a time-consuming detour. She has children of her own.”
“You aren’t taking them?”
Irritation knitted through his brow. “I can’t leave the farm for more than a few hours, Caroline. The animals need daily care.
“Before Amanda died,” he said in a kinder tone, “we talked about having the children photographed and surprising your parents with a copy. I won’t have time for that before they go, but Manley Green has a talent for sketching. I’ll see if he can draw a good likeness while they’re at Celia’s.”
“I hope he can. They would treasure even that.”
Jackson wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin onto the remains of his lunch. “Oliver said the letter was postmarked Greenvale. You didn’t jump in the carriage with your trunk, so I assume all is well.”
“Everyone is grieving Amanda, of course, but other than that, yes.”
Caroline squirmed under Jackson’s steady gaze. He’d always had a knack for sensing when there was more to the story.
He’d answered her questions honestly. It was her turn.
“The letter was from Greenvale, but it wasn’t from anyone in my family. It was from Walsh Duffy, the man who’s been courting me.”
Jackson stared, unblinking. Then he looked down and rubbed at a spot on the table. “When’s the wedding?” he asked, lifting his head.
“We aren’t officially engaged. Walsh began paying calls shortly after you moved away, but then Father fell ill, and… He’s been very patient.” She tried to read Jackson’s emotions, but his face was blank, and his eyes were guarded.
“Is he good to you?” he finally asked—not with the growl of a protector, but with a quiet vulnerability, as if he feared an affirmative answer.
Caroline nodded. “He’s kind and considerate…studious and funny.”
“Wha.” Jackson cleared his throat. “What’s his profession?”
“He’s an accountant at the steel mill. The day Father collapsed, he rode to get the doctor and my brothers. Then he waited there with us while we got the news. Since that day, he’s helped Simon keep the books and taken nothing in return.”
“Sounds like a good man,” Jackson said, rising. “I wish you the best.”