Chapter 38 #3
“I take full responsibility, Josephine.” The words, so softly spoken, held such certainty, such conviction and, for some unexplained reason, swept her back to that moment yesterday.
While he was right in one sense—she would never have acted on what she’d been imagining—she also knew he didn’t bear sole responsibility.
“It wasn’t your fault alone,” she whispered, still not looking at him, unable to. Already suspecting he didn’t believe she was married, she guessed her actions yesterday pretty much confirmed it in his mind. Still, she determined to keep up the pretense.
Seconds ticked past, and he finally reached for a plate. “So . . . let an expert show you what eating at Miss Mary’s really looks like.” He started piling food onto his plate, and she couldn’t help but smile.
He motioned to the table where Calla and Bethie sat eating. “After you.”
She shook her head. “I think it might be best for me to eat elsewhere. Bethie’s still upset at me, and I can’t say that I blame her.”
“Nonsense. She’ll be fine.”
“Dodge, I—”
“Kathleen always taught her to face things head-on, and she made me promise to teach her the same. So—” He nodded toward the table. “Please, after you.”
Josephine carried her plate to the table and sat by Calla, across from Bethie.
Bethie looked up. “Thought you said you weren’t going to eat in here.”
Josephine saw Dodge about to respond. “I changed my mind,” she said quickly, the memory of a woman she’d never met, but that Dodge had made a promise to, giving her gumption she lacked on her own at the moment.
“Besides, Calla and I usually eat in here together. It’s one of the highlights of my day. ” She caught Calla’s gaze and smiled.
Calla’s eyes returned it even if the rest of her features didn’t. But again, progress.
“So are you planning to stay here forever?”
“Bethie.” Dodge looked beside him at his niece. “Respectful and appropriate questions are always fine, but you need to rephrase that one. And address her properly, as Mrs. Dunham.”
Josephine was fairly certain the girl held back an eye roll, settling for a droll look instead.
“Mrs. Dunham . . .” Bethie’s tone sounded faintly like that of someone thrice her age. “Do you plan on staying here in Lynchburg for an extended period of time?”
“Thank you for the question, Bethie. And no, actually, I don’t.
” Dodge didn’t look at her, but she sensed a reaction from him anyway.
It occurred to her then—especially considering how attracted she was to him—that Dodge believing not only that she was married, but that she would be leaving soon, actually worked in her favor.
“I don’t know when I’ll be leaving yet exactly, I only know that I will be. Probably sooner rather than later.”
Bethie finished chewing then swallowed. “Do you think you’re going to have scars?”
Dodge paused from eating. “Bethie, some questions aren’t—”
“No, that’s all right. I don’t mind answering. Yes, Bethie, I think I will. However, Calla’s salve is helping a lot.” She started to say “working wonders” but feared Bethie would disagree, then Dodge would have to interject again. “So maybe the scars won’t be as bad as I was anticipating.”
Bethie took the last bite of her apples, and Josephine could all but feel the girl’s wheels spinning.
How she wished she could have had Bethie Coburn in class.
How rewarding to have had a hand in helping to shape such a bold, courageous spirit.
And she would have liked to have known Kathleen Coburn as well.
She was certain they would have been friends.
“Sure am sorry about your cattle, Dodge,” Calla said after a moment. “Heard people talking about it when I was in town a few days back. Sounds real bad.”
“Thanks, Calla, it is. We stand to lose them all if we don’t hear something from DC soon.”
The hum of conversation from the next room drifted in to help fill the silence.
“Calla . . .” Dodge held up a forkful of candied apples and admired them. “These are delicious.”
Her eyes warmed. “You always say that.”
“That’s because it’s true.” He elbowed Bethie. “I just have to get back over there for seconds before Bethie does.”
Apparently taking that as her cue, Bethie tried to stand. But Dodge, his attention on his plate and still eating as if paying her no mind, firmly held the back of her overalls. A smile touched the girl’s mouth as she struggled all the more to stand.
“Uncle Dodge!”
“What?” He looked over, letting go as he did. “Oh, were your straps caught on the back of the chair again?”
She eyed him. “They were caught in your fist again is what they were.”
He held up his hands. “Couldn’t have been me. My hands are right here.”
With a grin, she shook her head, got seconds on apples and returned. “So are we still going shooting on Sunday?”
Dodge nodded. “You bet we are.”
“And you’ll bring the Winchester this time?” Bethie asked, doubt in her voice.
“I said I would, and I will.”
“Shooting?” Josephine looked between them. “You’re taking your nine-year-old niece shooting?”
Dodge and Bethie both paused mid-chew. Josephine even felt Calla looking her way.
“Yes, ma’am.” Dodge got a look on his face that she was beginning to recognize—one that said he was both aware of her disapproval and also wholeheartedly welcomed whatever was coming next.