That I want you back, that I want to be a husband to you, and a father to our daughters.
If only she were ready to hear it. “I want to know why you’re not in Chicago. Why you made no effort to reach me after you decided to stay in Eagle Harbor.”
“WhyImade no effort to reachyou?” Her eyes flashed. “What about you? You were the one who said you’d send for me, remember?”
“I did send for you, half a dozen times, giving you more than enough money to travel to me.” Would she soften toward him now? After all, he’d just told her he’d not left her to rot while he’d been away.
She only blinked. “But how? You sent two letters.”
“I sent more than two, but they were to Mathilda’s address in Chicago. That’s where I told you to go and wait for me, and since you were always talking about us moving back to Chicago and getting help from Henry and Mathilda, I assumed that’s where you went.” At least up until five months ago, when he’d been too injured to leave Deadwood and do anything about the wife he’d learned was missing.
Was she going to smile at least a little now? Tell him how sorry she was for the misunderstanding?
She only sighed. “I decided not to go to Chicago after all.”
“I see that now, but you can’t blame me for not knowing before.”
She bent her head and rubbed her temple.
Because she had a headache? At one time he would have asked. No, at one time he wouldn’t need to ask, because he’dbeen familiar enough with her mannerisms to know what they meant. But not anymore.
She pressed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and dropped her hand from her temple. “You didn’t realize I was here, and I didn’t realize you thought I was in Chicago. We were both wrong, and it’s an even trade, but I’m not sure what you expect can be done about it now.”
“Nothing.” She had the right of it, neither of them could go back and change the past five years, but they certainly had the ability to alter their futures, to start living as husband and wife again. He reached for the letter he’d set on the bed. He’d taken it out of his coat and left it to dry as soon as he’d arrived, but the paper was still wet and crumpled from his swim in the lake. Surely once she saw the contents of the envelope, she’d want to share a life with him again.
She peeled the envelope back, gently tugged out the contents, and…
Nothing.
He frowned. Had she not seen the banknote lying atop the letter? Why wasn’t she saying anything?
“I’m sorry, Thomas.” She shook her head. “The ink is so smeared I can’t make the words out, but thank you for writing. I didn’t think… well, I didn’t know what to think after you disappeared. What’s this banknote for?” She held it up and squinted at it. “Ten dollars?”
He didn’t need to glance at it to answer her question, but he stepped closer anyway. He’d forgotten how lovely she was, with her shiny blonde hair and blue eyes, her petite, slender build and creamy skin. Deadwood had its share of beautiful women, all dressed in silks with their bosoms on display to the highest bidder, but not a single one of them drew him the way Jess did standing here now, her gaze latched onto the papers he’d given her, her simple yet stylish dress buttoned up to her neck. Shesmelled like oranges though, a scent far different than that of the rosewater she used to make and dab on her neck.
“Well?” She looked up at him. “Ten dollars?”
“A hundred.” He swallowed and forced his gaze to the paper. “One of the zeros at the end smeared.”
She dropped the paper, sending it to the floor with a soggy plop. “You sent this much?”
“Ah…” Wasn’t she supposed to throw herself into his arms right about now? To fight back tears as she clung to him and thanked him for making her wealthy? “I own a hotel in Deadwood, South Dakota, and a half dozen boarding houses just outside Lead. I rent rooms cheaper than the Homestake Mine rents the company housing, and I’ve got another two boarding houses scheduled to be built come summer.”
She stared at him, still no hint of emotion in her clear blue eyes.
What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she happy for him? For herself? Why wasn’t she hugging him and covering his face with kisses? How much more did he need to explain before she understood? “I made money for you, Jess. You don’t need to worry about running out of it or being forced to live in tenements again.”
Silence filled the space between them, leaving no sound but the beating of the wind at the windows and dull roar of the lake outside. He nearly reached for her, nearly set his hand on her shoulder and pulled her into his chest. She’d feel the same as she always had cuddled against him, delicate, warm, soft.
But she bent to pick up the banknote instead, then straightened and handed it back to him.
“You’re right, Thomas. I don’t need to worry about living in tenements anymore.” Her voice shook despite its quiet timbre. “But not because of anything you did. I made money on my own while you were gone, and strangely enough, since the money’smine rather than both of ours, I also don’t need to worry about you taking it and abandoning us again.”
She’d made money? Doing what? Though it made sense. If she hadn’t gotten the money he sent, then she’d had to find some way to provide. The ache returned to his chest, and he rubbed at his breastbone. Caring for three girls without any support would have been hard on any woman, but it would have been doubly so for Jessalyn considering how she’d grown up.
He should have come here sooner, left Deadwood to escort his wife and daughters west himself after the letters had gone unanswered. But as he’d told her a few minutes ago, he couldn’t change the past. The present—only the present. “Money or not, Jess, I’m here to take you and the girls back to Deadwood with me, where you should have been all along. How soon can you be packed?”
“Packed?” A hint of desperation crept into her voice. “You want me to pack?”
