74. Jacob
Jacob
Viola and I approached the hay shed, hand in hand. I hoped she would like it.
“Close your eyes. No peeking.” She closed her lids as instructed.
We stepped off the trail, and I shifted my hands to her elbow and the small of her back as we moved over the uneven ground. She vibrated with curiosity but obediently kept her eyes tightly shut. I led her down by the creek and turned her toward the surprise with my hands on her shoulders.
I whispered close to her ear, “All right, you can look.”
She let out a shriek. She did the little bouncing thing that meant she was happy, clapped her hands, and skipped across the sturdy footbridge that now spanned the creek.
I couldn’t stop grinning like a fool.
“Thank you. It’s wonderful. Best bridge I’ve ever crossed.”
“You’re an excellent jumper, my dear, but there will be snow and ice soon, probably by the next time you’re here.”
She pulled me onto the bridge to stand beside her and wrapped me in a tight hug. We were visible to the work crew above, so I resisted the urge to bend down for a kiss. Mostly. I did kiss the top of her head.
Tomorrow, Viola would leave, but still my spirits soared along with my fears.
Next week, I would board a train to journey southward through Kansas and Oklahoma to Texas and maybe New Mexico. But the best part would be returning to Viola.
She said, “We’ll see each other again soon, even though it won’t be here, won’t be home. You will astound me with tales from your adventures, and I will tell you how bored I have been without you. I hope you don’t have a terrible time.”
Her dimple popped into view and begged to be kissed, but instead of kissing her, I folded her hands in mine.
“At this moment,” I said, “I can’t imagine anything being terrible ever again.”
She said, “Make sure you leave yourself plenty of time to return all the way to Chicago. You must arrive a few days early so we can get you set up with evening clothes for the Holiday Banquet. I’ll be decked out in my finest.” Viola patted her hair and stuck up her nose, but it was difficult to put on airs in the middle of the prairie.
“Is it a big crowd?” I asked.
“If you consider a few hundred people a big crowd. Father invites all the employees and their guests to an evening at the Palmer House. You’ve earned your place.
Watching the new hires take in the magnificence of their first banquet is one of my favorite things.
I will get to watch you this year, up close. ”
She smiled up at me. “First-timers don’t usually spend the banquet at the owner’s table, seated next to the owner’s daughter.”
Thoughts of the big city affair made my stomach churn, but I’d be among friends. “I’ll be there in a new suit, with an appropriately slack jaw to convey my amazement at the general splendor.”
I squeezed her hand lightly and continued, “But know it will all be an act to disguise how utterly beguiled I am by my dinner companion.”
“Who? George?” Viola asked.
We made our way back home for dinner, fingers laced together. Jo had finished reading Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd the previous evening, so tonight after dinner we played cards. Even Ma sat to play a round and whupped us all.
I worried our snug little farmhouse would burst from the sheer volume of happiness packed within its walls. Such expectation, hope, and love had certainly never before been compressed into such a small space. And it was love, I had no doubts.
After I delivered Pa to his bed, I returned to the couch and wrapped my arms around the woman I loved.
Her weight settled against me—just right—as I drew her into my arms.
I said, “Pa told me something a day or two after you and I first met. He said, ‘There are some people who fit well together. When you find that, you don’t let go.’” I ran my fingers down the silky-smooth hair at the edge of her face, over and over, as the coals glowed orange and red on the grate. “I’m not going to let go.”
She turned to gaze up at me, eyes bright, lips lifted.
I lowered my lips to meet hers with the slightest touch. Breath by breath, the softness increased until my hand cupped her jaw, and I drew her mouth to mine, changed the angle, deepened the connection, and replaced the softness with more.
When I broke the kiss, she sighed. “Don’t you dare let go.”
I wanted to tell her everything in my heart. I wanted to ask her, but fear, the oldest and greatest obstacle known to mankind, blocked the words from reaching my lips. What if I was wrong about her feelings? What if I pushed her too soon? But I had to say something before she was gone.
The tips of my fingers brushed the soft skin behind her ear. “When I get to Chicago, I will speak with your father.”
She tensed slightly in my arms.
Fear shifted toward terror. Steady now.
“Do you… mind?” She shook her head, and the tension in my body eased. “Do you understand?”
Viola relaxed in my arms and nodded. It was a small motion, but one that sent a wave of excited relief crashing through me. Was she agreeing? Mercy. If she understood my meaning and planned to refuse me, surely she would discourage me now.
A slow smile spread across her face. She wrapped her hands around my neck, pulled me to her, and we started the long process of kissing goodbye, but not forever.