Chapter 19 #2
He stomped the snow from his boots on the porch and walked into a wall of warm air that was heavily scented with pine.
What in the… It looked as if a fir tree had exploded.
Evergreen boughs adorned with holly berries and sagebrush had been hung above the doorways, and more were affixed to the banister.
Caroline lifted her head from the book she was reading in the parlor. “We did a little decorating while you were gone.”
“I see.”
“I left your supper warming on the stove.”
He set the bundle on the dry sink. “Where are the children?”
“They’re upstairs, reading picture books to Ranger. And don’t laugh. He’s enjoying it.”
Jackson untied the string and took out the foodstuffs, then tied the bundle closed again and stashed it in the washroom. “Could you get them ready for bed? I need to check on the animals.”
“They’re already in their nightclothes. Why don’t you go up and say goodnight?”
Jackson stared at the ceiling, debating. He wanted to make the most of his time with Noah and Jewel, but if he went, they would waylay him and beg him to tell them stories.
“Go,” Caroline said. “If you haven’t come back down in five minutes, I’ll rescue you.”
She was ready to make good on her word, but Jackson trotted back down the stairs before time was up.
“I’ll be a while,” he said as he lit a lantern. “It takes longer, doing evening chores in the dark.” A gust of icy wind rushed in as he went out, making her shiver.
She put another log on the fire and made a pot of tea. By the time the leaves had steeped, the house had gone quiet. The only noises were the crackle of the fire and the wind howling through the cracks. It was going to be a frigid night. Too cold for Jackson to sleep in the barn.
Caroline went upstairs and tucked quilts around the sleeping children, and one very lucky dog, then returned with another quilt, a pillow, and some blankets. She made a pallet on the floor by the fire. If Jackson didn’t want to sleep there, she’d take it and give him back his bed.
She was about to put her coat on and check on his wellbeing when she heard bootsteps.
He entered amid a flurry of snowflakes and pushed the door closed. “A foot of snow has already fallen, and it’s not stopping,” he said as he dropped the bar. “It’s going to be a white Christmas.”
That would keep him inside.
She set his plate on the table, then brought the tea tray over and joined him. “I guess that means the roads will be impassable.”
“For a couple of days.”
“That’s too bad,” she said once he’d lifted his head from an unspoken prayer. “Mr. Ames had mentioned a holiday party in town, planned for after services. The children would have enjoyed it.”
“We couldn’t go regardless,” Jackson said between bites of venison pie.
“The trip would take too long in the wagon, and the children would be difficult to manage on horseback.” He forked another portion but stopped and stared at it.
“I’d saved to purchase a buggy,” he muttered, his voice thick with resentment, “but I bought a headstone, instead.”
Caroline sipped her tea and let his comment fade. She didn’t want to add fuel to his bitterness, even though he had good reason to feel it.
Jackson picked at his meal, then laid down his fork and pushed his plate away. He lifted his eyes and pinned her with a stony gaze. “Why did you bring the dog?”
She stared at him, unsettled by his expression and his tone. “Noah wanted him so. And I truly thought you’d find a way to keep the children here.”
“How? I’d already exhausted every possibility.”
“Can’t you hire someone to live here and care for them?”
“Out here with a widower, alone? No respectable woman would take the job.”
“What about a freed slave?”
“There aren’t any I know as well as Celia. But the point is moot. I won’t entrust my children to a stranger.”
Caroline set down her cup and looked up at him tentatively. “I could stay a little longer, give you more time.”
“That’s only putting off the inevitable.” He took his napkin from his lap and chucked it onto his plate. “No. This storm won’t last, but we’re heading into the worst of winter. I need to send them before we get snowed in.”
Jackson’s reasons were solid, but there was more to his sour mood than coping with a maddening predicament. “Are you angry with me?”
He didn’t respond, just looked in her general direction, as if he was ashamed to meet her gaze.
“I apologize if I overstepped,” Caroline said sincerely. “I thought I was doing a good thing for you.”
“You are, it’s just… Leaving is going to be hard enough on the children. What if Peggy refuses to take the dog?”
“Then he can stay here and be a companion for you. You’re going to need one.”
Jackson stared at his half-eaten food, then raised his head and looked straight at her with earnest eyes. “What I need is you.”
Caroline’s breathing stalled as the wind wailed all around her. She’d longed to hear those words—craved them—six years ago.
The hope that had lit Jackson’s eyes disappeared. “I won’t make you say it. You’d rather be with Walsh.”
“No. That isn’t true,” she said in a quiet voice. “I broke things off.”
His lips parted as confusion worked its way through his brow. “Then why won’t you give me another chance?”
“Part of me wants to, but…”
He raked a hand through his hair then laid it palm up on the table. “I wish I could go back and change the past, but I can’t. I’ve set aside my pride and explained my reasons, I’ve apologized, and I’ve assured you of my love. I don’t know what more I can do.
“I know you meant well with your visit,” he continued in a resigned tone when she didn’t respond, “but once you leave, I think it’s best if we part ways. Being near you and not being able to have you hurts too much.”
His words landed like a punch, but they lent sudden clarity. The problem didn’t lie with Jackson.
After venting her anger in the barn, she’d listened to him, understood his reasons, and felt his anguish. She’d even shifted the blame to Ross, but all that was irrelevant.
Mercy wasn’t the same as forgiveness.
Tears gathered in her eyes and rolled down her face. “You’re not the one who needs a second chance,” she said in a broken voice. “I am.”
Jackson walked around the table and squatted down next to Caroline’s chair. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
“Please don’t send me away,” she said as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I forgive you. I’m just so afraid of letting you into my heart again.”
“You can entrust it to me, I promise.”
Jackson rose and helped her up, then took her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across the backs of them.
“You didn’t imagine the way I looked at you when I came back from the war.
I wanted to spend my life with you. Although I grew to love Amanda, there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about you since I left.
I tried not to feel it…buried it so deep I thought it might die.
I tried to hide it from her, too, but she knew.
“My love for you is quieter now. But it’s deeper and stronger than ever.”
Caroline’s eyes didn’t waver, just glittered with light from the waning fire.
“Do you still love me?” he asked and held his breath.
“Yes. Even in my anger, I never stopped.”
Jackson placed Caroline’s hands on his shoulders and stepped closer.
She touched the edge of his collar, smoothing it, so he leaned in until her breath was brushing his cheek.
His hand hovered near her jaw then came to rest against it, as if he was touching something sacred.
When he finally kissed her, it was tender and unhurried, his soul cherishing a precious gift that had been delayed too long.
Jackson rested his head against Caroline’s then pulled her into a snug embrace and held her in silence. For the first time since their reunion in the garden, he felt as if he was home.
The snow had stopped sometime in the night, and morning broke quiet, frost edging the corners of the windows and the world beyond blanketed in white.
Jackson stood at the edge of the parlor, coffee cup in hand and heart filled with satisfaction. There was no tree or fancy decorations—just the evergreen boughs and the scent of fruitcake baking. Still, the morning felt festive and momentous.
The fire in the stone hearth glowed across the plank floor where Jewel sat, legs splayed in her flannel nightdress, trying to open a parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
Caroline knelt beside her, helping her fingers untangle the knot. “Let’s see what Papa tucked in here.” The paper gave way to the blue calico dress he’d bought.
Jewel hugged it at once. “Pwetty! Tank you, Papa.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Celia made it.”
Noah sat on the rug next to Ranger, turning over a wooden boat in his hands and running a finger down its hull. “Who made this?”
“Mr. Green did.”–out of scraps of wood from the mill, but you’d never know that from the way Noah admired it.
“I bet it’s fast,” he said, skimming the boat across the rug.
Jackson reached behind the rocker where he’d tucked away a special bundle. His fingers lingered on the cloth a moment before he took it over to Caroline and the children.
“There’s one more gift,” he said as he sat on the hearth and placed three small flat packages on the rug.
Noah reached first, then paused, glancing up. “Can we open them?”
“Go on. Jewel and Aunt Caroline, too.”
“Me?” Caroline asked.
Jackson nodded. Inside the paper wrappings were framed sketches of Amanda.
Caroline helped Jewel get started then unfolded the paper around hers. “Oh, Jackson...”
Noah lifted his out and stared. “It’s Mama.”
“Mama,” Jewel echoed and cradled the picture just like she’d done her new dress.
“I got them for you as a remembrance,” Jackson said to the children, “so put them someplace safe.”
Caroline looked up at him, eyes shining. “They’re beautiful. Did Mr. Green draw these?”
“He did. And from memory. I thought the children should have something of her. You, too.”