Jane rose a little unsteadily and smoothed her skirts. “I’ll arrange it, Mama. And I’ll have someone come and…” She trailed off as she looked around the desperate room. “I’ll have someone help you clean this up, as well.”
“Good,” Mrs. Winchester said, and then motioned for the door even as she downed the entire glass she’d just poured for herself in one gulp. “Is there anything else or will you leave me in peace?”
Jane’s nostrils flared. “Nothing else. But if you hear from Nora, please won’t you contact me?”
Mrs. Winchester shrugged and poured herself another drink. Ripley could see Jane’s eyes filling with tears, see her blinking them back desperately. He would not allow this wretched woman the gift of breaking her, so he took her hand and gently guided her from the room. The carriage hadn’t moved, thankfully, so he waved to the driver, indicating he put out his cigar and get back into position. After he handed Jane up into the carriage, he pivoted to face her mother.
“Oy,” he snapped, reverting back to less polite manners. “What kind of mother treats their girl like that? More to the point, what kind of monster doesn’t care about their missing child?”
Mrs. Winchester fought to focus on his face and gripped the edge of the door a little to keep herself upright. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
He motioned his head toward Jane. “I know what you put her through. And what she is despite you. If you hear from Nora and don’t contact her, I’ll find out.”
The other woman’s nostrils flared. “A white knight, eh?” She snorted a bitter laugh. “Women like her, women like us…we burn white knights to the ground. You’re already lost, so you can’t do nothing to me.”
With that she pivoted and flounced back into the house, slamming the door behind her.
Ripley had faced off in the ring with men bigger and stronger than him. He’d fought men who cheated, swung to kill, but it was this woman and her slings and arrows that slammed into Jane who made his hands shake. He smoothed them against his sides before he said a few words to the driver and got into the carriage.
Jane was bunched into the corner, looking out the opposite window. She didn’t look at him when he closed the door behind himself and they blessedly rode away from the hell that was her mother’s home. One thing he was certain of, though, was that they couldn’t ride away from the consequences this day would leave.
Ripley hadn’t spoken since they left her mother’s home over an hour before. Jane had felt him watching her, occasionally he touched her hand, but as for words? He clearly had none.
But why would he? She had dragged him into the tawdry drama of her broken mother’s home, strewn out all her horrible history for him to see. How could he say anything? How could he not see her differently as a result? It was probably for the best.
The carriage began to slow and she finally allowed herself to stop looking out the window and at him. It was only early evening, though she supposed he might be hungry. Not that she could eat. Her stomach turned just thinking about it.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he said as he pulled the curtain back so she could see the fine inn where they had come.
She shook her head. “Stay here? What do you mean?”
He reached across to take her hand, his thumb smoothing along the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a long ride back still, the dark will make it dangerous. I don’t think you’re in any state to continue traveling, Janie. Rest will help. Food will help.”
She stared at him, feeling the full weight of the kindness and care in his eyes. “I—oh.”
“No arguments?” he teased, a little smile tilting the corners of his lips. “That’s shocking.”
She bent her head. “As if I could win any battle over you.”
“You could win every battle,” he said, then exited the carriage and offered a hand back for her.
She took it and stepped down on the crushed gravel of the drive. It was a lovely place, with a large gabled main house, a pretty stable and fresh, green grounds.
“If you’d like to stretch your legs, I’ll fetch you after I’ve gotten our rooms arranged.”
She nodded and felt his gaze on her as she walked down a well-tended path toward the garden behind the inn. The fading sunlight filtered through the trees, dancing off the green of the leaves and the rainbow beauty of the flowers. The images did bring her some measure of peace, but certainly not enough. All she could think about was the interaction with her mother. And worse, that she was no closer to finding her sister.
She shivered even though the air wasn’t cold and sat down on a bench with a thump. There was a fountain in the middle of the garden and she focused on the never-ending flow of the water, the gurgling sounds of it falling.
How long she sat there, she didn’t know. It must have been a while, though, for she jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jerked her head up and found Ripley waiting there. “Should I join you?”
She nodded. “You were so kind to leave me with my thoughts on the drive here, but I know I owe you a conversation. An…an apology for what happened at my mother’s house.”
He took a place next to her on the bench and stretched his muscular arm out on the back behind her. He hardly touched her, but she found herself wanting to lean into him, pull his arms around herself and forget everything.
That was foolish. Cruel to them both. He’d been kind, but there were limits and she knew she must be at the end of his now. Even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be like her mother and take advantage. Hurt him like she knew she could.
“You don’t owe me any apology, Jane,” he said. “You’re no more responsible for your mother’s behavior than you are for a stranger’s. I’m sorry that you had to endure her callous disregard today and any day before this one.”
