“I can do it,” Amanda said, though she wasn’t sure she could muster the energy.
Jackson squatted down in front of her. “You look as if you’re about to drop, and you’re not even standing. Let me cook for us tonight. You can start being a farmer’s wife in the morning.”
Chapter 4
Caroline stared out the parlor window at the garden, still trying to make sense of what had happened, wondering how she could’ve been so infatuated with Jackson Maguire that she’d missed the fact he had eyes for her sister. All the times he’d welcomed Amanda to walk with them and included her in their conversations, she’d thought he was just being polite.
Does he regret his decision? Does he think of me at all?
He’d only been gone a week, but she felt as if she’d done a year’s worth of grieving.
“Penny for your thoughts,” her mother said from the chair next to hers.
Caroline picked up the forgotten mending in her lap and continued darning one of Landon's socks. “I was just thinking about Amanda.”
And Jackson. And my own stupidity.
“Me, too,” her mother said on a sigh. “It’s not the same without her.” She held her needle up to the light and squinted as she threaded it then rested her hands on her embroidery frame. “Iknew my children would eventually grow up and leave home—as it should be—but I thought it would come about differently. I would’ve liked to take part in the planning of Amanda’s wedding. At the very least, I wanted more time to say goodbye.”
“She only lives a few days’ travel from here,” Caroline said, working to keep her voice steady and her tone indifferent. “I’m sure you could persuade Father to take you for a visit.”
“Perhaps. But she and Jackson are newly wed and in the throes of setting up their household. A visit this soon wouldn’t be welcome. The wire your father got, saying they arrived safely, will suffice for now.” She paused and studied Caroline. “You’ve not been yourself since the day he announced the engagement. You loved Jackson, didn’t you?”
Caroline swallowed back a sudden lump in her throat and willed herself not to cry. All she could manage was a nod.
“I’m sorry things didn’t go the way you hoped,” her mother said in a soft voice, doubtless in its sincerity. “I’ll admit,” she said, taking up her needlework again, “I was surprised when Jackson chose your sister over you. I thought...” She gave a small shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. It’s a man’s prerogative to choose his mate, and that’s what Jackson did.”
The blunt statement stung Caroline’s aching heart, but her mother was right. She could have paced and ranted the entire length and breadth of the room—demanded to know why Jackson passed her over—but his decision was clear. Making a scene wouldn’t have changed anything.
Still, the weight of shattered dreams crushed her. He’d left her behind to pick up the pieces of what should have been and try to make them into something new.
Jackson adjusted his hat and surveyed the newly repaired roof with satisfaction. The mid-August sun beat down mercilessly, but he welcomed the physical labor. It kept his mind occupied and his animal spirits tamed.
“Jackson,” Amanda's voice called from below. “I've made some lemonade.”
He climbed down the ladder, smiling at the sight of his wife standing on the porch in a simple aproned dress with her hair tied up in a cloth.
Mopping the sweat from his face with his handkerchief, Jackson ascended the sagging porch steps into its welcome shade. He stuffed the cloth back into his pocket and accepted the glass from her. “Thank you.”
“I thought you might be ready for a cool drink and a break,” she said as he tipped up the glass and guzzled its contents in one long series of swallows.
Jackson let out a long, satisfiedahhhhand held in theDamn, that was good!he would have blurted, had he been among the men in his command. Rugged country aside, he was back in the civilized world, and in the presence of a woman, to boot. “I certainly was.”
Amanda took the empty glass from him and waggled it in silent question.
He shook his head.
“I’ve almost finished sewing the curtains,” she said brightly.
“I’m sure they’ll be perfect.” Jackson didn’t want to dampen Amanda’s enthusiasm, but fatigue lurked beneath her smile. “I appreciate everything you’re doing. Still, I worry you’re not getting enough rest.” He’d been forced to make them a pallet on the ground floor until he could repair the stairs and the floorboards of the upper story. Though, due to his nightmares, he was rarely in it. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, now that the morning sickness has passed. Though I'm not sure why they call it that when it can befall a person any time of day.”
Jackson chuckled. His laughter died as he took in the state of the house behind her, the cracked windowpanes and boards covered in faded, peeling paint. There was still so much to do. “I haven’t forgotten about the other repairs,” he said, frowning at several shutters that were hanging at odd angles. “The roof was just the most pressing. I'll have this place in shape before winter sets in.”
Amanda’s eyes softened. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I want to give you and the baby a proper home.”
