Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Violet stopped three times while heading down the sidewalk, a case of nerves making her question her decision to do this, but that nagging voice in the back of her head kept urging her on.
It was dark inside the jailhouse. She skirted the side of the building and nervous butterflies took flight the moment she saw light shining from Josiah’s window.
She gave her skirts a good shake to try to get some of the wrinkles to relax before smoothing out the material, then ran a hand over her hair.
She’d left it down, taking Daisy’s word for it that men liked to see a woman’s hair.
How she knew this, she’d never know, but she’d seen Graham play with Rose’s hair enough to think her little sister may be right.
Her hair held a curl that tended to go crazy when it rained, but today, it fell in soft waves.
She inhaled another breath and raised her hand, giving the door a few raps with her knuckles.
And waited.
She heard movement inside, then the sound of footsteps. The door opened a moment later and the knot that had been growing in her throat seemed to choke her where she stood.
“Violet,” Josiah said, giving her a curious look. “What are you doing here?”
She managed to swallow past the lump in her throat and smiled.
“I thought you might be hungry.” She glanced down at the chicken pie in her hands.
“I saw you head out of town after breakfast and Mabel was in the store today and mentioned you never came by for lunch so…” She help up the pie. “I brought you supper.”
Daisy’s idea of discouraging Josiah from having the marriage annulled made perfect sense when they’d discussed it that morning, but now that she stood on Josiah’s stoop, she wondered what he’d think.
Would he find it odd or only natural that she was there with food?
She was technically his wife, and Daisy’s plan was simple.
Act like his wife and maybe he’d change his mind about wanting one.
She glanced at the pie again before meeting his gaze. “It’s not much. Just a simple chicken pie.”
“There’s nothing simple about a home cooked meal.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and grinned. “And are you sure you want to feed me? I might get used to it and come to expect it daily.”
“Well, someone has to do it.” Their eyes met and so many questions seemed to be asked without a single word spoken. He finally moved back from the door. She took it as an invitation and stepped inside.
The room looked exactly as it had earlier in the day, but for reasons she couldn’t name, being alone with him now seemed more—intimate. Was it because she’d woken in that bed along the wall with him? Or because she’d helped Daisy cook a meal for him?
The answers would probably never come, so she ignored them and moved to the small table and set the pie down.
She could hear Josiah behind her, rooting around in his trunk if she had to guess by the noise he was making and stilled when he stepped up to the table.
He held two plates and forks and another cup.
He set them down without a word before grabbing an empty pitcher from the top of the stove and headed outside. He came back a few minutes later with fresh water from the well and set it on the table. When he grabbed a knife and sat down to cut the pie, she realized he wanted her to join him.
Maybe Daisy was right and the way to a man's heart truly was through his stomach.
Josiah cut into the chicken pie and tried to ignore Violet as she stood on the other side of the table. His assumption that she would be joining him left him a bit confused as to why he’d thought of it in the first place.
Because she’s your wife and she cooked you a meal.
A wife on paper only. It's not real.
And it’s just a meal. Nothing more.
This whole marriage thing had him acting so out of character, he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.
All day he’d thought about her and the moment she showed up at his door, he’d invited her in, got her a plate and was serving up the food she’d made him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
She pulled her chair out and sat down, their eyes locking briefly before she looked away, grabbing the water pitcher and filling the two mugs on the table.
He ignored her and concentrated on eating instead. The first bite made him groan. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was so hungry or if it was because it was so good. The broth was thick and creamy and seasoned to perfection.
He took a few more bites before washing it down. “You made this?”
She lifted her eyes, her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink. “Yes. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
She grinned. “Daisy made the crust, but I did all the rest. I have scars to prove it.” She held up her arm. Long scratches ran down the inside. “That chicken wasn’t going down easy. He fought like the devil himself had him.”
He grinned. “I supposed to him that’s exactly what you looked like.” He went back to eating. “Its good.”
“Thanks.”
Another few minutes passed in silence before she asked, “Where were you all day?”
He dished out another slice of the pie and put it on his plate. “Cecil Jenkins and Randal Hyde were having a disagreement.”
She laughed. “Let me guess. The cow.”
“Of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “Randal was in the store last week going on about that cow.”
“Well, they’re still at it.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t resorted to violence.”
“It was headed that way today. Cecil came to town to fetch me when Randal went into the house for his shotgun. Or that's the story he told me.”
Violet took a sip of water before saying, “Those two are too old to be fighting or threatening to shoot each other. What are they now? Close to a eighty?”
“Probably.”
“That old cow will probably outlive them both.”
They lapsed into silence again before he asked, “Did you work at the store today?”
“Yes. Tanner brought in our shipment from Elkin.” She huffed out a breath. “Edwin sent a letter with it.”
He stilled and looked up. “What did it say?”
“The same thing he’s been saying for the past two weeks. That he wants to marry me and if I’d just give him a chance, he’d make me happy.”
“And you already being married isn’t an issue?”
She laughed. “No. He said it was easily taken care of, whatever that means.”
She went into great detail about the letter and the rest of her day and as he sat there listening to her, he was reminded of a time when he’d thought his life would be just like this.
Sitting around a dining room table discussing his day with his wife, only Violet hadn’t been who’d he’d imagined.
No, that had been Ruth, a woman so different from Violet in every way.
She’d been soft-spoken and quiet, with pale skin and blonde hair.
The complete opposite of Violet. They both shared one trait, though.
Being married to him was a death sentence. He hadn’t even made it down the aisle with Ruth before he buried her. How long would it be before the same thing happened to Violet?
It won’t. Not if I can help it.
You said the same thing about Ruth.
He sighed and finished off the pie before leaning back in his chair, stuffed. He lost count of the number of slices he had and if he hadn’t been so hungry when he sat down, he might have been embarrassed about it.
Violet finished her water and raised her eyes to him. “So, how was it?”
“Best chicken pie I’ve ever eaten.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you tell Mabel the exact same thing every time she feeds you.”
He couldn’t help the grin that curved his lips. Violet stood and gathered the dirty plates and forks. “How do you wash dishes?”
“I don’t.” She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t cook here, so I never have to worry about dirty dishes.”
She stacked them on the dirty pie plate. “In that case, I’ll take them back to the house with me and return them tomorrow.”
Her statement answered the question of whether or not she was staying. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed by it or not. Did he want Violet to stay?
It doesn’t matter. You can’t have her.
She picked up the dirty dishes and turned to the door. He stood from his chair and followed her, standing in the doorway after opening it for her.
The smile she gave him was sweet and innocent and his gaze was drawn to her mouth and those soft, full lips he’d tasted only once. He’d not had time to kiss her properly. Not the way he wanted to, and a small part of him regretted the fact he may never get the chance.
“Josiah?”
He blinked when she said his name. “Huh?”
She laughed. “Where did you go? You looked a million miles away.”
“Just thinking.” He looked toward the trees that lined the area behind the jail. It was full dark now. He’d always hated looking into the forest at night. You never could tell what was looking back. “Let me grab my gun belt and I’ll walk you home.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “It’s not far.”
“But it's dark.”
“And I’ve walked home after dark more times than I can count.” She smiled and headed away from the door. “Goodnight, Josiah.”
He watched her hips swing as she walked away, that little voice in the back of his head whispering she doesn’t have to leave before he said, “Goodnight, Violet.”
When she stepped around the corner, he shut the door and looked around the empty room. The ticking of the clock seemed loud now and as he stood there in the stillness, he wondered if she’d come back if he asked her to.
She hadn’t taken three steps onto the sidewalk when a shadow across the street caught her attention. A figure moved along the new seamstress's dress shop and she froze, her heart racing as Josiah’s offer to walk her home whispered back through her head.
The figure stepped into the street and she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until the moonlight lit them enough she could properly see her grandfather’s beaming face lit with laughter.
“Scerit, ye, didna I?”
“Grandda?” She scowled. “What are you doing out here skulking around in the dark?”
“Just making my rounds.” She rolled her eyes and waited for him to cross the street. He looked at the dirty dishes in her hands. “Did yer new husband like his supper?”
Violet ignored the way her heart fluttered at the mention of her new husband. “He did.” She lifted the dishes a fraction. “But he doesn’t have a proper set up in that tiny room. He doesn’t cook, so there’s no sink or even a counter to put a wash bucket.”
“Hmm…” Ewan stared over her shoulder toward the back of the jail. “Weel, that can be fixed easy enough.” He reached out and took the dishes from her. “I’ll take these home. I was headed that way when I saw you.”
“Oh, I can—”
“—Your place is with your husband, not out here traipsing around town after dark. Now get on back to him, girl.”
He didn’t give her a chance to argue. She watched him head home and thought, now what? She couldn’t follow him. He’d ask too many questions, the main one being why she wasn’t sleeping at Josiah’s.
You could always say you needed to grab your things.
She chewed her bottom lip. All her belongings were still in her bedroom. Going home wouldn’t draw any suspicion if she was just there to grab some things, but knowing her grandfather, he’d personally watch her pack and escort her right back to Josiah’s.
But she couldn’t go back to Josiah’s.
Could she?
He’s your husband. No one will think a thing about you being there.
No one but Josiah.
She blew out a breath and headed back around the jail. The area beside the building was dark, so she took her time walking to his door. The lamps were still lit. She could see the amber glow through the window, but didn’t hear anything when she stepped up on the small stoop.
She tapped on the door with her knuckles and waited.
Josiah opened the door a moment later, his brow raised in question.
“My grandda was on the street and saw me. He took the dirty dishes and told me to, ‘get back to yer husband, girl,’ so I didn’t really have a choice but to come back.
He doesn’t know our marriage isn’t real.
I should have expected him. He’s so restless.
Can’t ever sit still for long.” She blew out a breath and glanced toward the bed. “Do you mind?”
He said nothing but held the door open wider and stepped back to let her in. The room looked exactly as it had when she’d left, except the bed covers had been turned back.
Josiah shut the door behind her and headed to the stove, picking up a bucket. “The stove reservoir is empty, so I was just headed out for water. I can light the stove to heat some for you to bathe in if you’d like.”
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself. I can bathe in cold water as easily as warm.”
He nodded and headed outside. The shirt she’d worn to bed the night before was still on the trunk, and the small washstand in the corner already held a few washcloths and drying towels on the small shelf underneath it.
Josiah came back inside and poured half the water in the large washing bowl, and set the rest down by the door. He grabbed a change of clothing and picked the bucket back up. “I’ll go to the jail to wash. I’ll knock before coming back in.”
She blushed at the remark. The last time he’d barged in on her, she’d been all but naked and he’d seen it all.
Not wasting the time she had, she stripped out of her dress and washed and slipped the over-sized shirt on before crawling into the bed.
She slid all the way over to the wall, wondering if it was even necessary.
Would Josiah join her again in the bed or sleep on the floor?
Or stay in the jail now that Edwin wasn’t here to see him sleeping in there?
She got the answer to those questions a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”
Josiah stepped into the room and set the empty bucket on the floor, his dirty clothes shoved down into it. He glanced at her, took in the room she’d left for him in the bed and never said a word before blowing out all the lamps and sitting down beside her to remove his boots.
When he settled back on the pillows, their arms brushing, she stared at the ceiling. Her conversation with Daisy came back to her in an instant.
Her sister suggested she act like a wife and, at the moment, doing so would take nothing more than rolling over and draping an arm around his waist. Would he protest if she did? Would he push her away if she trailed a hand down to the button of the trousers he’d left on?
Her face heated at the thought. She’d never seduced a man and didn’t want to start today. Besides, if Josiah rejected her, she’d die of humiliation.
Rolling over to her side, she put her back to him and stared at the wall, contemplating her options. How did she get Josiah to want her as much as she wanted him?
And how did she ensure he’d want to keep her forever?