Chapter Ten #2
He could no longer protest. Josephine reached the top, her hands brushing together as she steadied herself.
A lump swelled in Travis’s throat, the sight of her standing there, so close, making his heart throb against his ribs.
Alone with Josephine. He wasn’t ready for this conversation—whatever it might be—but there was no turning back now.
Josephine glanced around, her head shifting from side to side as she took in his living arrangements.
Heat crept at Travis’s skin. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt her feelings to see how desperate he was to be away from her at night. What man in his right mind would reject sharing a warm bed with an attractive woman and instead live in a barn?
Travis pointed to his cot. It was the only place to sit down that wasn’t dirty. “Would you like to sit?”
Josephine nodded. She settled herself with her hands resting in her lap. Travis sat beside her, leaving a great gap between them.
“Mr. Blythe—”
Travis held his hand up. “Please call me Travis. I’m a little too young to be referred to as that.”
Josephine’s cheeks reddened, and she lowered her head. “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he reassured her, his voice softening. “May I call you Josie? I mean . . . since the children are calling you that.”
Josephine nodded, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. “Please. It’s what I’d rather be called, anyway.”
“Then why did you write to me as Josephine? I feel rather foolish introducing you as such.”
Josie half-smiled. “I haven’t been called Josie in a long while. It’s what my family used to call me. No one has referred to me as Josie in seven years. It feels good to be called that again.”
“It suits you,” Travis said. His breath seized. What did you mean by that, Travis?
Josie lowered her head again. Each time Travis attempted to be social, it seemed as if she cut him off with her wary looks.
He looked at her lap, where her hands rested, and his stomach sank.
Her fingers were trembling, and her nails dug into her skin.
Was he really that terrifying to her? The thought struck him hard.
He had never intended to make her feel this way.
“Travis, I have something for you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an opened envelope.
Travis took it from her, surprised by its weight. He opened it cautiously, and the breath nearly left his lungs. Inside was the money he had sent her—the cash that remained untouched. His eyes widened, gaping at her.
“You didn’t use it?”
Josie shook her head. “No, it didn’t feel right. I had plenty of money saved.”
Travis stared at the envelope, then back at Josie, running his hand through his hair as disbelief washed over him. The money he had fought so hard to scrape together to bring her here and keep his family from hunger was back in his hands.
“Josie, I-I don’t know what to say. You shouldn’t have used your savings.”
“I didn’t want to spend what should be yours. I just put the children to bed and promised Ivy I’d give her painting lessons once you had the money for paint. I’m in no position to tell you what to spend or not, but I think it should go to Ivy’s paint.”
Travis stuffed the money into his back pocket. “It means the world to hear you say that. It really does.” Then it hit him. He blinked and turned towards her. “You paint?”
Josie laughed softly. “You sound just like Ivy. I can’t believe it’s that hard to believe.”
Travis enjoyed seeing Josie laugh, especially when directed at him.
There was something infectious about her joy, a brightness that made their tension feel lighter.
The brilliance of her smile calmed Travis’s pulse in a way he hadn’t expected.
Those lips of hers were the color of wild pink clover, and those sweet doe eyes made his chest swim with warmth.
But the thought sent a chill through him.
“Travis, are you all right?’
Travis stood up abruptly. “I think it’s time for you to go,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended.
Josie gasped and jerked her head to the side, her shoulder slumped down. Travis’s brows raised. Why had she cowered at him once again? He crouched beside her. “Josie, are you all right? I didn’t mean to—”
Her wide eyes met his. The color drained from her face, leaving her pale and stricken. “I-Is it something I said? D-Did I push too far with promising painting lessons?”
Travis shook his head, trying to soften his words. He put his hand out but stopped himself. This wasn’t the time or place to touch her. “You didn’t offend me. It was a wonderful gesture that I am grateful for. It’s just I—” Travis scratched behind his ear and stood. “I can’t have you in here.”
Josie hung her head, twisting a strand of her hair. “I’m sorry again. I’m sorry for last night, too.”
Her voice was small, but it cut through him like a knife. He could see the weight of his tone bearing on her, and a pang of regret tugged him.
“It’s not your fault,” Travis said gently. “I want to give you the world, but . . . I can’t. Your duty must remain with the children.”
Josie stood slowly, her eyes finally meeting his. “I don’t want to know my husband. I want to know the children’s father. Why didn’t you come inside when the children and I were playing all afternoon and evening? You only stayed when Aunt Polly was here.”
Travis turned away, folding his arms over his body.
She had noticed. However, he couldn’t explain himself.
He wasn’t ready to talk about Sophie. He could share his life with Josie, but she wouldn’t share his past or grief.
“I am not distant. I see my children every day. I wanted to give you time with them.”
“You are a good father, but when I’m there, you avoid me like a disease. How am I supposed to be a part of this family if you keep me at a distance? Why do that to your children?”
Despite her soft and timid tone, her words pierced him. Sleeping in the barn was a testament to that distance. He couldn’t play the happy married couple—not even with the children in their presence.
“Go, please,” Travis said stiffly. “Tell the children goodnight for me.”
Josie didn’t say a word as the sound of her footsteps echoed down the ladder. Travis sat in the silence that followed, unsure how he’d face her now. He was a coward. Such a coward that he couldn’t go inside his own house to say goodnight to his children.