Chapter Twenty-One
A week later, Jackson and Daniel hauled another hay bale over to where Ethan was pointing.
“Left-no, right! No, left again,” Ethan instructed with his hands on his hips.
Daniel was drenched in sweat and looked ready to murder him.
“Alright, Ethan,” Jackson cautioned his friend.
They had been setting up for the spring festival for most of the morning.
Daniel had insisted on coming along to help, and seemed to be determined to prove his worth to Jackson.
Ethan had offered to help too, though his preference was usually to relay instructions rather than do any actual heavy lifting.
“I’m glad Hope and Margaret will bring Clara up to the festival,” Ethan said. “I’m more at ease knowing my sister is in their care.”
At the mention of Hope’s name, Jackson’s stomach did a little twist that reminded him of the breakfast he had hurriedly eaten before coming to the festival to set up. This was the first event that they would officially be attending as husband and wife, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to behave.
“That’s the last of them,” Daniel said with a groan as they dumped another hay bale into place.
“We should clean up,” Jackson said, dusting his hands off. “The women’ll be arriving soon.”
Ethan smirked at him. “You seem a little nervous there, friend. Is it because you’re wondering what Hope will wear?”
“Don’t tease,” Daniel said, though he stifled a laugh. “Hope said last night she’d tried on all her dresses and didn’t know which one to wear.”
“I’m sure she’d mind you saying so,” Jackson said, giving Daniel a frown.
“Protective of his little lady, isn’t he?” Ethan chuckled. “Did you tell her what a poor dancer you are?”
Jackson wanted to punch Ethan, but he resisted the urge. He was sure Hope would understand he wasn’t the best dancer, for all his talk a week ago.
Daniel’s face dropped.
“What is it?” Jackson asked.
“Hope loves to dance,” Daniel said to him. “She’s been practicing in her room most nights.”
Jackson felt the strength drain from him, and the burn of panic began to gnaw at his insides.
“What do I do?” he asked his friends, not bothering to hide his nerves any longer.
“Come on, then,” Ethan said with a loud laugh. “I’ll show you some proper steps behind the church.”
***
By the time Jackson returned from a quick wash and some infuriating dance lessons from Daniel and Ethan, the festival was well under way.
The sound of fiddles and cheerful conversation drifted across the warm afternoon air, and colorful bunting fluttered between wagons and fence posts.
Horses grazed near the fence line and children raced each other through the grass.
Despite the crowd that had gathered, he realized he was scanning each face in search of only one person. His eyes stopped and his breath caught in his throat when he caught a glimpse of Hope over at the decorated picnic tables.
He stood there for a moment and smiled, his heart thrumming in his chest. He had always thought Hope beautiful, but in her cotton dress the color of soft lavender, she was even more captivating.
Her dark blonde hair was pinned in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and gentle blonde curls softened her face.
Suddenly, her rosy lips formed a smile and her cheeks reddened, and Jackson realized she had caught him watching her. He walked towards her, feeling the churn of nerves and thinking himself a fool.
“Hope,” he said, lifting his hat to her. “You sure look…” he began awkwardly, then forgot the rest of his words. He stared at her blankly before he heard Ethan prompting him. “You look beautiful today,” Jackson finally said.
Hope smiled warmly, and he thought he saw a slight tremble in her hand as she reached for him. She must have been nervous too.
“This is for you,” Jackson said, holding a cluster of pale pink wild roses out to show her. He stepped closer and pinned the flowers gently in her hair.
“Thank you,” Hope said, touching the flowers to make sure they were in place and accidentally brushing his hand with hers. “I found a lovely spot for our picnic blanket, just under that cottonwood over there.”
Jackson barely heard a word she said because he was completely captivated by the movement of her lips and the light in her eyes as she spoke.
“I’ll just fetch your Ma and Daniel,” Hope repeated a second time, a confused smile forming on her lips.
Jackson nodded, but he was still surprised when she turned around and left him. Despite the number of people stopping to greet him and shake his hand, Jackson found himself unable to take his eyes off Hope for more than a minute.
Finally, he plucked up the courage and went to ask Hope to play some of the festival games with him. They started at the ring throwing contest, and he enjoyed watching Hope jump with delight every time her ring hit the pole, so much so that he barely focused on his own tossing.
“I’m sure you’ll win the next one,” Hope said with a rosy smile. “What about the egg-and-spoon race next?”
They roped Clara and Ethan into that one.
Jackson was determined to prove his skills to Hope, but Ethan gave him a shove at the start of the race so his egg crashed onto the toe of his boot.
Hope laughed so hard she lost track of her own egg.
Because it hadn’t broken, Jackson watched Hope pick her egg up and toss it at Ethan.
She got him in the back, and Ethan complained bitterly.
Clara giggled and told her brother, “Serves you right for cheating! Well done, Hope!”
Jackson felt oddly touched that his wife had stood up for him. He ushered her onto the next game, certain he could beat her there. It was the tin-target game, but as he watched Hope throw her stone up into the air with ease, he wasn’t so sure.
Hope gave him a devilish grin and then pelted her rock at a tin, knocking it off the table in one shot. The next three tins followed suit.
“Is there anything you can’t do, Hope Hale?” Jackson asked when he fumbled three of his own tins just to hear her laugh.
“I think you’re letting me win on purpose,” Hope accused, one eyebrow arched.
“It would make me feel better if that were really true,” he said under his breath. “Shall we get some food?”
She nodded excitedly, and Jackson found himself not wanting the day to end. Hope was not only hard-working and tough, she was fun to be around, and he didn’t want to be apart from her for more than a few seconds.
He moved over to the food tables, making sure he could locate Hope’s apple pie, when he noticed he was not the only one keeping an eye on her.
A man in a dark beaver hat and a finely tailored wool coat that spoke of wealth stood near the edge of tables.
He wore a crisp white shirt and a dark vest, with a silver chain trailing from his waistcoat pocket.
Jackson’s fists clenched at the sight of his smug face as he said something smooth to a group of passing ladies and received a chorus of giggles.
He was easily in his forties, but had the kind of easy, practiced charm that made women smile before they quite knew why. Even as Victor looked at Hope, his eyes never quite matched the warmth of his smile. They lingered too long, weighing and measuring as if he was determining her value to him.
Jackson wasted no time reaching his wife’s side. Before Hope even became aware that the other man was looking at her, Jackson stepped between them.
“Jackson?” He heard Hope’s questioning tone. “Who is this?”
Jackson swallowed hard. He didn’t want Hope to be alarmed by his sudden uneasiness, so he stepped aside.
“Victor Langford,” the man said, extending a hand to her before Jackson could even introduce him.
Hope froze slightly, her eyes darting to Jackson. She took Victor’s hand and turned pale as he planted his lips on the back of her hand.
“This is Hope Hale,” Jackson interrupted gruffly. “My wife.”
“I see,” Victor said, his smirk broadening. “What a beautiful creature. You’d better keep her close,” Victor said with a sneer, his eyes lingering on Hope.
Jackson hated having Victor in the same vicinity as his wife. It seemed that Hope was a fresh piece of prey in Victor’s eyes, and Jackson stood in his way.
Victor was doing what he always did. He stirred trouble and fear under the guise of charm and good humor. Jackson wasn’t going to stand for it, even if plenty of people around them tolerated Victor for the sake of his wealth.
“Well now, Langford,” Ethan blurted loudly as he walked in between them. “What drags you out here? ”
“Blake,” Victor muttered, though he forced a smile.
Jackson gave Ethan a quiet nod of thanks before ushering Hope in the opposite direction. He silently cussed, realizing how obvious he had made it that Hope was his weakness.
“Well, I hope we never see him again,” Hope said under her breath. “It felt as though he was staring right through me with those hard blue eyes of his.”
Most women were taken with Victor’s attentions, but not his Hope.
Jackson felt a swell of pride in his wife’s composure as he chuckled, his hand still around her waist as they walked away.
He loosened his grip and breathed a little easier with Victor behind them.
They settled on their blanket and started eating some of the food the community had brought together.
As the afternoon light began to fade and evening set in, lanterns lit up and fiddles began to lure couples to the makeshift dancefloor coated with straw.
As more couples stood up to dance, Jackson’s stomach was in agony again.
He wished he could blame the three slices of apple pie, but he knew it was because of the longing looks Hope cast his way every few minutes.
He caught Ethan grinning at him too, and even his ma gave him a pointed look. He swallowed hard, then stood up and turned to Hope, opening his hand up in front of her.
“Would you like to dan-”
Hope grabbed his hand before he could even get the sentence out. He pulled her up and struggled to walk fast enough to keep up with her. He tried to listen to the music and count the beat at the same time once they reached the dancefloor, his feet doing strange, erratic moves on their own.
“Jackson,” Hope said, her voice cutting through his panic. “Here.”
She took his hand and rested it on the curve of her waist, then took his other hand with hers.
“You taught me how to skip stones,” she reminded him. “Let me show you how to dance.”
Jackson gulped down his fear and nodded in agreement.
He suddenly felt like he was alone in a corral, the target of a wild bull he couldn’t control.
Every bit of Hope held him captive, from the graceful sway of her hips beneath his fingertips, to the scent of the roses in her hair, to the sweetness of her smile.
Jackson found himself lost in her steady gaze.
“Jackson,” she whispered.
“Mm?”
“You’re stepping on my toes,” Hope said, pain clear in her eyes.
Jackson jumped to get his boot off her toes and accidentally pulled Hope towards him. Her face bumped against his torso, and she giggled as she rubbed her nose.
“Hope, I'm-” he began, feeling a fool for even attempting to dance with her.
“Hush,” she replied, looking up at him. “I wouldn’t want to dance with anyone else.”
Jackson looked down at her and realized he would never fully grasp the mix of vulnerability and strength that she was. Her intense beauty contrasted with her incredible resilience, just as the chime of her laughter and the depth of her sadness were equally passionate at times.
Jackson felt himself connected to her in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words, and for once, Hope seemed not to want to retreat.
As his face inched closer to hers, he cupped one hand around the line of her jaw, while the hand at her waist drew her closer.
Hope closed her eyes in quiet anticipation and Jackson pushed aside the nerves, focusing on the fact that everything about the moment felt right
At first, his lips only briefly touched hers and he tried to draw away, the feeling so powerful because he’d never kissed a woman before.
But Hope was not so easily embarrassed. She pressed her lips to his, and Jackson felt all his resolve crumble as they kissed.
The music around them faded and so did the people, as if, for a brief moment, they were the only two people in the world.
He released her, opening his eyes and feeling so much more than the physical intimacy of the kiss.
For so long he had fought against wanting a wife, wanting Hope, and now suddenly he could no longer imagine a life that didn’t contain her.
He truly felt the meaning of words of the vows he had taken in the church, that he would cherish and hold her till death parted them.