Chapter Fifteen
The wagon ride into town was one of the stranger things Rachel had ever experienced.
She sat on the seat beside Adam, feeling the bumps and jostles of the road beneath them. Though she tried to keep herself apart from him, to keep her arm from brushing his or their knees from bumping together, the road was her rival. Every movement of the wagon sent her body colliding into Adam’s.
And every time it happened, her blood seemed to grow hotter, her heartbeat faster, her skin more sensitive.
It was like standing too close to a flame, feeling the heat of it without ever burning herself.
There was danger, danger that could not be ignored, and if she drew any closer than she was right now, she would do herself serious damage.
She couldn’t allow herself to develop feelings for Adam!
She shouldn’t be so captivated by the simple fact of his nearness.
She allowed herself to glance at him out of the corner of her eye and immediately wished she hadn’t done it.
Did he really have to be so handsome? That jawline looked as if it had been chiseled from stone.
She itched to reach out and touch the weathered skin of his face, to see if it was as rough as it appeared, or if perhaps there was a softness there.
She wanted to touch his dark hair to see whether it was soft like her own, or if perhaps it was wiry and bristly like the hair on his face must be.
She looked down at his hands, gripping the reins—they were so strong, and she wanted him to hold her hand so that she could feel his strength.
Stop. Stop thinking of him like this. You must. There is no room for this sort of thing!
After all, she still didn’t mean to stay with him for very long.
She was earning money so that she would have enough, eventually, to leave Silverleaf for good and to start a new life somewhere else.
That was still true. Adam’s ranch had turned out to be a much more pleasant place for her than she had anticipated it would be, but even so, she couldn’t possibly stay there for long.
That was never the plan. And Adam wouldn’t want me to do that anyway.
He expects me to leave, to make my own way.
I must do so, and as soon as I possibly can.
They were coming into town now, which was enough to distract Rachel from her thoughts.
As she had the last time she had been here, she looked about for the members of her family, wary of seeing them.
There was no sign of any of them, but the gossips were even less hesitant to stare than they had been before.
She caught sight of a group of women standing in front of the bakery.
They had been shopping, she could tell by the bags they had clutched in their hands, and they all stared as the wagon rolled by.
As Rachel and Adam began to pull past, out of their sight, they bent their heads together to whisper.
Adam glanced at her. “Don’t pay them any mind,” he murmured.
“I wish I knew what they were talking about.” Rachel couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder for a last look at them.
Adam leaned into her slightly, nudging her shoulder with his.
“Ignore it, I tell you.” It was a reprimand, but he wasn’t angry.
“The people in the town are dreadful gossips. They always have something to say about something. It wouldn’t matter what you did, how well you lived—they would find something to say about it. ”
She noticed a hint of bitterness at the end of his words. “Do they gossip about you?”
“They gossip about everybody.” He was quiet for a moment. “There’s talk that I don’t raise Mason well enough. That I’m not a suitable guardian of him.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” Rachel’s voice grew louder.
The horse’s head in front of them jerked up in response, and she realized what she had done and corrected it when she spoke again.
“I’m sorry, but that’s a foolish opinion.
You are a wonderful guardian to that boy, especially since you’re all he’s ever had.
I know how his family treated him—he needs someone like you in his life.
You’re the only person he has ever been able to rely on, Adam.
You can’t allow people to chatter and make you believe you’re anything less than what you are! ”
He looked over at her. There was a smile on his face. “Do you hear yourself?”
“What?” She was confused.
“So impassioned in my defense,” he explained. “But this is exactly what I’ve been telling you, Rachel. People are going to talk. People are going to have their opinions, and you simply mustn’t listen to them. Everything you’re saying to me, I say it right back to you.”
Rachel chuckled. “All right,” she allowed. “You’ve made your point. Still…I do wish I had some way of knowing what was being said.”
“Well, why don’t we decide for ourselves?
” Adam asked. “They aren’t the only ones who can start talk and make things up about people.
We can come up with the answer to that question.
” He grinned encouragingly. “Go on—you start. What are they saying about you? What kinds of things are the worst of the gossips coming up with?”
“Well…” She hesitated, wondering what kind of tale she might spin. “Maybe they think my stepfather threw me out of the house, and that I had to go and find a job for that reason.”
“Maybe,” Adam encouraged. “But we can do better than that. Maybe…they think he threw you out because he discovered you were stealing from him?”
“Ooh, that would be interesting.” Rachel sat up straighter, warming to the topic.
“Or maybe it was that he found out I had planned to meet with a man at the town fair. Everyone saw me there right before I left home, so it makes sense that they would connect the two things. Maybe they think I left the house intending to dance with someone special, and that my stepfather didn’t like that—and that was the reason he turned me out. ”
“And maybe they think I was that man.” Adam was speaking more quickly now, his voice full of energy. “Maybe they’re looking at you and me now and thinking that we ran off to marry, or something of that nature. That perhaps we’re married even now…”
His voice trailed off, as if he was just registering what he was saying.
Hot embarrassment rushed through Rachel’s body.
She scooted to the edge of the wagon seat, putting as much space as she could between herself and Adam, trying not to make it too obvious what she was doing.
But he probably noticed, of course. He didn’t speak again for the rest of the ride, and all the fun and excitement went out of their game.
***
When they parked the wagon, the air was still full of tension, but Adam seemed determined to break it.
He gave Rachel a rather sheepish grin that she decided to take as an apology for the forward things he’d said during the ride and held up a hand to help her down.
She accepted it and stepped down onto the sidewalk.
Being here among the people of Silverleaf was easier, somehow, than riding past them in the wagon had been.
Maybe it was that she couldn’t look down and see several pairs of eyes staring up at her at once.
She could see only one or two people at a time, and that was easier.
She moved to the side of the path closest to the wooden buildings that lined the street and looked this way and that.
“We’ve got to get to a tailor,” she said. “That’s what Mason needs.”
“We’re going to patch up his old things?” Adam frowned, glancing at the wagon. “I didn’t bring any of his clothes with me. Did you?”
“No,” Rachel assured him. “We’re getting new things.
But we need to give his measurements to a tailor so they can make things that fit him well.
That’s going to be an important part of this—making sure the clothes we bring back for him are a good fit.
I’m sure that’s been part of his problem.
The shirts he wears are too baggy, and the pants are just a bit too long.
He steps on the cuffs all the time, you know. That’s why they wear out.”
“No, I…I didn’t have any idea.” Adam’s brow furrowed. “How could I not have noticed that?”
She put a hand on his arm and did her best to ignore the way touching him set her heart racing all over again.
“You’ve done well by him,” she soothed. “You don’t need to worry about that, Adam.
You’ve kept a roof over his head and kept him fed and clothed the entire time he’s been in your life, and that’s what’s most important.
That’s an accomplishment you can be proud of, no matter what he was wearing.
Now we’ll just get him some things that let him blend in a little better at school. ”
Adam nodded, his chin lifting. “You’re right,” he agreed, pointing to a door ahead of them. “This is where we need to go.”
He led the way, and Rachel followed after him as he pushed the door open and held it so she could come inside.
The interior of the store was warm and homey, the walls lined with bolts of fabric, and the whole place smelled of new wool.
A cat walked past on the floor, its back arched, and rubbed against her ankle before jumping up onto the counter and down on the other side.
“Mittens, what are you—oh, hello.” The man running the shop appeared from a back room. He had wire-rimmed spectacles and gray hair, and he was short and thin, with nimble-looking fingers and keen eyes. “What can I do for the two of you today?”
“We need school clothes for a thirteen-year-old boy,” Rachel said, stepping forward. “I have his measurements here.”
“How do you have his measurements?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows.
“He has a few things that fit well,” she said. “That blue shirt he always wears, for instance.”
“He had that shirt when he came to me.” Adam rubbed a hand over his face. “Of course that’s the one thing he has that fits.”
“Well, now he’ll have more,” she said easily, handing the paper on which she had written the measurements to the tailor. “I think five shirts and three pairs of pants ought to be good for a start, what do you think, Adam?”
She turned to face him. His eyebrows were lifted, and it was clear that he was impressed. “That ought to do,” he agreed. “Do you know when we might be able to pick them up, sir? I’d like to have this done as soon as possible.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” The man was looking at the piece of paper Rachel had given him. “These are standard sizes. I can have a few things ready by tomorrow, if you’d like to come back and pick them up then.”
“That would be perfect,” Adam agreed, his shoulders dropping with relief. “All right, I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon.”
Rachel took a step back to allow the men to conduct their business. As a sum was agreed upon and money changed hands, she drifted to the window and gazed out at the people walking by.
It was pleasant to be in here, where she could see them without their noticing her—though they could have seen her if they had wanted to, nobody was taking the time to look in the window.
The people out there were happy. They were laughing together, embracing one another, clearly part of a community.
A community Rachel didn’t belong to.
They probably know one another from church.
How long had it been since she had attended church?
Edith had taught her to find God in everyday things and to study her Bible at home, and Rachel relished those opportunities, those parts of her life.
But at the same time, her heart yearned for what she saw out the window of this shop.
How wonderful it would be to be a part of something!
Not that she could ever ask Adam to bring her to church, since he didn’t attend himself, and Ruth had definitely implied there was something foreboding about that fact…
She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even see the familiar face. She didn’t notice until Adam had come away from the counter and beckoned her forward with a smile, until she was following him out the door and back onto the street—until they had very nearly collided.
“Mother,” she choked.
Sandra’s face was gaunt. She looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping well—dark circles beneath her eyes, pale skin. Her gray hair was loose in its bun, as though it might slip out of the band that held it there.
For a moment, mother and daughter stared at one another.
It was hard to breathe. Rachel’s whole face was hot. Even the fact that her mother was making eye contact with her was unusual. When was the last time that had happened? And that haunted look in her eyes…Rachel’s stomach cramped with guilt.
“Rachel,” Sandra whispered. “Aren’t you coming back home?”
“No.” Rachel’s voice was softer than she’d intended it to be. She cleared her throat and tried again. “No, Mother. I have a new life now. I work for Mr. Summers. I can’t go back. You know I can’t.”
“But it’s your home.” Her mother grabbed her hand and clung to it, and Rachel forced herself not to pull away. “Rachel. I’m your mother. You belong with me. You belong with your family.”
Adam was there at her shoulder, his hand high on her back, supporting her. But he didn’t say a word.
Rachel barked out a laugh. “I belong with a family that never cared for me? A stepfather who treated me as a servant—as worse than that, because he never paid me and never dreamed of allowing me to go free even if I wanted to!” Her voice gathered strength as she spoke.
“And you. You’re my mother. You should have stood up for me.
You should have protected me. And you never did. Why?”
Her mother gaped at her, unspeaking, lost for words. She looked from Rachel to Adam, who still said nothing, allowing Rachel to speak for herself.
Rachel shook her head. “I’m not going back,” she said firmly. “I am never going back.”