Chapter Thirteen
Jackson paced across Ethan’s front porch, trying to get his mother’s voice out of his head.
Earlier that morning, Hope had said his mother wanted to see him at her cottage, so he’d dutifully gone over.
The second he’d walked inside, he could tell by the fixed smile on her face that his mother was up to something.
At first, he’d suspected another roast beef dinner cooked by Hope, but then she held up a basket with leaves sticking out of the top.
“You need to make things right between you and Ethan,” she’d said.
“Ma, he’s the one who needs to apologize to me and Hope,” Jackson had argued back.
“Oh, Jackson, surely you’ve realized by now that you’re always the one who needs to do what’s right first,” his ma reminded him. “It’s just who you are, and to go against it is to go against your very make-up.”
“It’s not who I am, Ma,” Jackson sighed, feeling it impossible to fill that role when so often he made the wrong call. “I’ll make things right with Ethan, just not today.”
“Well, I had a letter from Ethan’s mother. She asked me to mix up some herbal remedies for Clara,” his Ma explained with a little smile. “And I need you to take them over.”
Jackson looked down at the basket in her hands and knew that his mother had been plotting the visit for some time.
He sighed and grabbed the basket from his mother’s hands, whipping on his hat as he walked out.
“You’re a good boy,” his mother called after him as he stalked out of the cottage.
And so here he stood on Ethan’s porch, wondering whether he should knock, or simply let himself in as he had done for years.
He wasn’t ready to talk to Ethan yet, or to tell him that he had forced a wife on him.
How could he resolve things with Ethan when all he wanted to do was shout at him?
Suddenly, the front door swung open and Ethan leaned in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
“Well now, stranger,” Ethan said. “I wondered when you’d pay us a visit.”
Jackson took a breath and scowled at Ethan.
It was then that he noticed the dark circles under his friend’s eyes that spoke of heavy worries and sleepless nights.
He was sure Ethan had lost weight too, and his reddish-brown beard looked scraggly.
Jackson felt a pang of guilt at being mixed up with his own feelings instead of checking on his friend.
“How is Clara?” Jackson asked.
“I thought we’d lost her a couple of times,” Ethan admitted, his shoulders slumping at the memory. “I’ve never lived through nights so long, Jack.”
“I’m sorry, Ethan,” Jackson said, the words tight in his mouth. “I should’ve been here for you and Clara.”
Ethan’s eyes lowered to the basket in Jackson’s hands.
“I assume your ma made you come over,” Ethan said, a spark in his eyes.
“She said your ma wrote for remedies for Clara,” Jackson said, realizing quickly that there had been no letter. He shook his head and chuckled.
Ethan laughed too, and he ran his hand through his hair. “It’s sure good to see you, old friend. Come have some coffee.”
Jackson nodded and stalked into the old ranch house.
He immediately noticed that things were not as neat and clean as they usually were, likely because Ethan wasn’t coping well with doing everything on his own.
He still believed that Hope would have been a real help in Ethan’s time of difficulty, but it was too late for that.
“Apologies. We’re out of cookies,” Ethan said, putting some water on the stove. “And almost out of coffee.”
“Why not ask for help then, Ethan?” Jackson chided his friend. “I can collect groceries for you.”
“And disturb a man in his first couple of weeks of marriage?” Ethan teased, winking at Jackson.
The joke fell coldly between them, and Jackson dumped the basket on the table. Ethan had no idea how awkward those first couple of weeks were proving to be, and his thoughtless smirk was not helping matters.
“Ma sent some cake, soda bread, some biscuits, and the remedies for Clara,” Jackson explained, willing the water to boil faster so he could leave sooner.
“Please thank your ma for us,” Ethan muttered. “…if you want to leave, you can.”
“Darn it, Ethan!” Jackson blurted. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Me?” Ethan snapped, whipping around. “You’re the one stomping around my house with a scowl when I got no sleep and have sick people to look after.”
“You’re so darn hardheaded!” Jackson accused his friend. “Hope could’ve helped you with all of this. Instead, you made a rash decision instead of listening to me. Like always!”
“And you always have to come in and save the day while I look the fool!” Ethan complained back at him.
“Save the day!” Jackson repeated indignantly.
“You ride off into the sunset with a beautiful woman on your wagon, and I’m caught up here looking after my ailing family day in and day out,” Ethan ranted. “And you think you’re the one I should feel sorry for?”
“Well now, Ethan, you right well left that poor woman stranded. I had to do something. I didn’t want a wife, and now I got a woman blinking at me every night expecting me to say something!”
They stared at each other in silence ,and as Jackson’s breathing began to slow, he began to feel the silliness of arguing over what had already happened. He was about to say so when he noticed Ethan’s mouth begin to twitch.
They both suddenly burst out laughing. Jackson felt his anger slowly fade away as he watched Ethan wipe tears from his eyes. It was clearly the first time he had laughed in weeks.
“Ethan… I-” Jackson began saying, while taking off his hat.
“Jackson,” Ethan interrupted, holding up his hand so that Jackson would let him talk. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I put you in an impossible position, and I’m sorry.”
“Darn it, Ethan,” Jackson muttered.
“You were right in saying I’m not responsible enough for a wife,” Ethan continued. “And as her arrival got closer, my excitement turned to dread. I’m a fool, Jackson, and, as always, you had to rescue me.”
“I don’t always rescue you, Ethan,” Jackson assured him. “You’ve been there for me plenty of times.”
“Sure, but me asking a girl to dance with you is not the same as your marrying a woman in my stead,” Ethan explained. “I wronged both you and Hope. I can see that now. Clara is on the mend, but at the time, Jack, I didn’t know that. I thought I was going to lose her.”
“You did what you had to, Ethan,” Jackson said with a nod. “I can respect that.”
“Then please accept my apology,” Ethan asked, his brown eyes blinking sincerely at Jackson. “You’re my brother, Jackson. I couldn’t lose you over this.”
“Ah, come on now, Ethan,” Jackson said, resisting the well of emotion seeping out of Ethan. “We’re grown men here.”
Ethan walked over and grabbed Jackson, drawing him into a rough, uncomfortable hug that Jackson returned mainly to comfort Ethan. He thumped his friend on the back a couple of times and stepped away, feeling like he’d dealt with enough emotion for one day.
“Do you forgive me, Jackson?” Ethan asked earnestly, his eyebrows drawn up in the middle of his brow.
“Of course I do, Ethan,” Jackson said plainly. “Though I can’t speak for Hope.”
“I’ll make good with her,” Ethan assured him.
Jackson grinned at him. “Now, can we just move on?”
“Not until you tell me what it’s like to be married. We never thought you’d be the first, after all,” Ethan said with a smirk.
Jackson considered this question. It had been precisely two weeks since he and Hope had exchanged vows in the church. Admittedly, he had spent most of it avoiding her and jolting every time he walked half-naked from the washroom when he remembered there was someone else in his house.
“She’s a good worker,” Jackson admitted.
Hope wasn’t just a good worker, really. She threw herself into everything she did.
His white shirts were somehow whiter, his boots always cleaned, and even Horse’s saddle shone from being polished.
The chickens seemed happier and followed Hope whenever she was doing chores in the yard, and he swore he saw a sheep nudging Hope until she gave her a rub on the head.
His Ma had always been a hard worker as well, but he’d never known what it meant to have a woman’s touch around the house until Hope had moved in.
“Is that all you have to say?” Ethan asked, nudging him in the ribs. “She’s sure nice to look at, too.”
Jackson couldn’t stop himself from grinning like a schoolboy when their favorite teacher walked past smelling of lemon verbena.
“She is a pretty girl,” he managed. “And the house always smells like cinnamon. Hope can cook anything.”
“You’re making me jealous,” Ethan teased. “You like her, don’t you?”
Jackson thought of the day before, when Hope’s cheek had been pressed to his chest as he rode home with her.
There had been something in her closeness that had awakened in him a deep desire to protect her from anything that might hurt her.
When she had been talking in the kitchen about missing her brother, the same feeling had emerged once again, only stronger.
Jackson had wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her, removing any pain from her beautiful face.
And that’s why Jackson had removed himself hurriedly from the kitchen.
He had to keep the distance between them because he wasn’t really her husband.
He had done his duty to save a woman’s reputation, that was all.
He didn’t know how Hope had so easily crept past his defenses, but there was something about her that he was drawn to.
He had to push her away for her own protection, because he knew that when she needed him the most, he would fail her.
His past decisions were proof enough of that.
“Hope is easy to like,” Jackson said, keeping his answer vague.
“Come on, Jackson, I can see that look in your eye,” Ethan teased again. “It’s like when I found you in the barn fast asleep with the two cats you didn’t want curled up in your lap.”