He gritted his teeth. None of this was happening like it should. She was supposed to be happy, grateful even. “You’re the reason I left. You were mad we lost our savings and you wanted me to earn it back. You can’t be that surprised I’ve finally come to collect you and the girls.”
“I never asked for you to go in the first place. That was your choice alone.” She gripped her hands in her skirt and took a step nearer him, her eyes filled with five years’ worth of accusations. “And I certainly didn’t ask for you to come back and collect me. But now that you have, winter is here. And after the shipwreck today, the harbor will be closed until May. If you don’t intend to stay in Eagle Harbor for the next six months, I suggest you leave in the morning and walk to the train station in Calumet with the other sailors.”
She huffed and spun toward the door, slamming it behind her a moment later.
His hand itched to grab the handle and yank it open, but what good would that do? He had no interest in exchanging another round of heated words.
Please forgive me for not coming after you sooner.That request should have come out of his mouth at some point during their conversation, but once he looked into her familiar blue eyes, old emotions and resentment had risen up.
God, how do I change it?He’d seen her for maybe a half hour, and they’d fallen right back into the same patterns that had plagued their marriage before he’d left.How do I convince a wife I haven’t seen for five years that I want to make things right with her?
Jessalyn’s voice sounded from the other side of the wall, calm and sweet as she spoke to the girls. He’d go out and visit with them in another moment, just as soon as he and Jess had a chance to calm down. Wouldn’t do any good to argue in front of the children—or more townsfolk.
What more could he even say to her when she’d already decided all the money he’d made in Deadwood wasn’t good enough for her?
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Of all the things he’d never expected to hear from his wife. But then, he really shouldn’t be surprised. Seemed like he’d spent his entire life not quite good enough for any of the people around him.
“There’s the Dowrick boy. Tell me, Thomas, did ya drag your pa out of the ditch last night? Good thing he has a son as big as you to get him home.”
“Don’t worry about giving him none of them extra crops. He’s the son of the town drunk.”
“Did you hear how much your brother lost at the card table last night? You’ll end up a wastrel too. No use trying to be any different.”
“You smell like stale whiskey and refuse. Did your pa retch on you? Didn’t anybody tell you to take a bath after that happens?”
He could still recall the voices, still smell the rancid breaths of the coal miners and hear their wheezy coughs. It didn’t matter that he never got drunk or gambled away his pay. His father and brother did, and he’d gotten lumped in with his family more often than not. He may have left Cornwall fifteen years ago, but those voices still followed him. As did Henry’s.
You think you’re good enough to marry my wife’s cousin? I didn’t feed her and clothe her for the past six years to watch her marry one of my foremen. She’s marrying Walter Shunk, and we’re going to purchase the cannery on the other side of the street from the warehouse. It’s the least she can do for all I’ve given her. If I see you near Jessalyn again, you’ll be looking for another job.
When he’d gone to Chicago before coming to Eagle Harbor, he’d learned Henry had died in a carriage crash six months ago, and yet the man’s words still taunted him, as did the loss of the foreman position he’d worked his way up to.
He’d thought Jessalyn worth the sacrifice of his job at the time, but how quickly trouble had seeped into their marriage when he’d struggled to put a roof over their heads and food on the table, and all with Olivia on the way.
He shook his head and blew out a breath, long and deep. How could Jessalyn stand in front of him and say she didn’t want his money when it had been so important to her before?
Later. He’d ask her about it later. At the moment, he had daughters to visit.
He turned the handle on the door and stepped into the parlor. It was empty save for Isaac Cummings standing near the stove with a cup of coffee. At least he thought it was Isaac, if his memory wasn’t failing him again. Didn’t the youngerbrother have auburn hair? Stand a little taller than Elijah, but have a narrower form than his brother? The man had to be a Cummings. There was no mistaking the chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and broad forehead both the boys shared with their father, Hiram.
“Where did they go?” Thomas’s brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wife and daughters once more.
“Your family?” Isaac scowled at him over his coffee cup. “They went home.”
He glanced out the large window that faced the harbor. Wind roared, blowing the pelting snow until it slanted sideways.
He grabbed his coat from where he’d left it by the woodstove. It wasn’t entirely dry yet, nor were his boots, but he could endure a bit more wetness and cold to see that his family got home safely.
“And where do you plan on going in those sodden clothes?” Isaac asked.
“I’m walking my wife and daughters home.” He pulled on his second boot and began to lace it, never mind the icy water that soaked into his dry sock the second his foot was inside.
“A little late for that, don’t you think?” Sharpness bit into Isaac’s words. “She’s lived here what? Seven years? Eight? Reckon she can make her way around town in a snowstorm.”
She hadn’t wandered around town alone in snowstorms when he’d been here. The sour ball of guilt lodged in his gut once more, only to be followed by the ache in his shoulder. “Can’t imagine they got that far ahead in this weather. I should be able to catch up.”
“Elijah went with them.”
“Elijah?” Why was a young, single man escorting his wife about town?
