He stuffed the dress into the carpetbag. “Packing.”
“My dress?”
“If you come with me, then we don’t have to be apart.” He turned and pulled open the dresser drawer where she kept her underthings.
“Thomas.” Her hand landed on his arm, stilling him before he could scoop up what lay inside. “That wasn’t what I meant when I said I didn’t like this. I just… something’s not right.”
“Of course something’s not right. I’m about to lose a hotel I purchased legally and have the deed to. I wouldn’t call that right.” He grabbed her clothes from the drawer.
“If you have the deed, proving ownership shouldn’t be that difficult. Can’t you?—”
“I’ve been gone for four months.” Was she really going to stand there and argue? And now of all times? Couldn’t she find an extra pair of shoes or something to pack? “I have no idea what’ll be waiting for me when I return. Could be Bernard proves just as dishonest as Henry and sold my hotel out from under me, then took all the profits, and fled to Canada. I don’t know.”
Did she need anything else? Rosewater? More stockings? He reached for her toothbrush on top of the dresser.
“I can’t go with you.” She stayed beside the chest of drawers, her arms crossed even though her shoulders slumped. “The road to Calumet will be nearly impassable. Megan’s too small for such a trip, and Olivia has another ear infection. They wouldn’t survive the journey.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking them.” He put the toothbrush in the bag and surveyed the room for anything he’d missed. Would the single pair of shoes Jessalyn wore now be enough? “I’m sure Elijah and Victoria will watch the girls, and if not them, then Mac and Tressa.”
Her face turned white as the snow blanketing the ground outside. “You can’t mean for me to leave our daughters.”
He sank down onto the bed beside the carpetbag and rubbed his head. “I just got you back, Jess. I’m not ready to lose you so quickly.”
She came forward and wrapped her arms around him. “We’re not losing each other again. It’s different this time.”
In some ways, yes, but in other ways it felt like five years ago all over again—him leaving his family behind. For how long this time? A month at the minimum, but what if it was more? What if it took several months? Or years? What if?—
“Like I said earlier, maybe you shouldn’t rush off right away.” Jessalyn’s arms tightened around him. “It’ll be dark in a few more hours. Why don’t you stay until morning? Pray with me?”
“I can’t.” He unwound her arms from him and stood. “Each minute I stay here puts my hotel at risk.”
“I just want you to tarry for a few more hours, not risk your hotel.” Her eyes turned suddenly moist. “I understand how hard you’ve worked for it.”
“Then you understand that it’s our means of living, of paying for food and housing and clothes—however fancy or plain theymight be. And providing for Olivia’s ear surgery.” Never again would he be able to go into the mines and earn a living through sweat and labor, not with his shoulder. Office work was his only means of caring for his family. “We have to leave tonight. We have to make sure all is well with my hotel.”
“Don’t make me chose between you and our girls.” Her raw, fervent plea filled the space between them. “If we both go and something happens to us, they’d be orphaned.”
“People travel all the time.” He reached for the carpet bag and closed the latch. “Nothing will happen.”
She threw up her hands and paced in the small area between the bed and the window. “You’re talking about a thousand-mile trip during winter. You can’t promise nothing will happen. Besides, the weather has barely cleared. What if we get more snow, and we’re caught out there? No one would find our bodies until spring.”
She stopped pacing and met his gaze, wrapping her arms around herself. “At least let me stay here and care for the girls. I’ll pray for you every day. And when you return, we’ll pick up where we left off. You, me, this apartment, the girls. Or if this business takes months to clear up, we can come to you in the spring.”
The words were right. Sincere and true and hopeful. But coldness traveled through him. Their relationship was too new, too tenuous. What if it didn’t survive such a long separation?
“You promised, Jess.” His words were deathly quiet, yet they filled the room like a thousand shouts. “Just yesterday, you told me you loved me, and you promised to come to Deadwood.”
“I never said I’d leave the girls behind.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her brow knit with confusion and worry and a dozen other emotions he couldn’t quite name. “You were fine with me not going when I walked into the room.”
“I hadn’t thought of you coming along then.” If she was only now discovering what she felt about him, only now deciding how committed she was to him, what would another separation do to their relationship?
“Then I wish the thought had stayed out of your brain.” She started pacing again, shaking her head all the while. “I love you, Thomas, but I won’t put our girls needlessly at risk.”
What about their relationship? Was she willing to risk that? Evidently, if she insisted on staying with the girls rather than coming with him. “Did you mean it? Yesterday when I gave you that sewing machine, and you said you’d come to Deadwood, did you…?” His throat closed, and a hollow pain filled his chest.
Her breathing hitched. “Of course I meant it. How can you ask such a thing?”
He blew out a shaky breath, then opened the carpetbag and started piling her clothes onto the bed. “If you’re that opposed to coming with me, then I won’t force you.”
