Celia tilted her head and pressed her lips together then went back to chopping. “I’m probably oversteppin’, and I don’t know if tellin’ you will make things better or worse, but…” She lifted her head and held Caroline’s gaze firm and steady. “Missa Maguire talked about you, back when we was at war. He hads to be tough in front of his men, but he could be hisself with me. He wrote you every chance he got, and your name—not your sister’s—crossed his lips more times than I can count.”
Caroline swallowed down the sudden urge to cry. “I’m going upstairs to rest,” she said, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice. “Please, come get me before you leave.”
Every emotion, from bitterness to regret, poured out as soon as she shut the bedroom door. Jacksonhadloved her, and knowing that made the ache in her heart a hundred times worse.
Jackson slumped onto a wooden crate, wishing Caroline had never sought him out and demanded an explanation. He’d lived all these years, stalked by her shadow, wondering with each sunrise if this would be the day the truth came out. It felt good to be free of the dread, but what purpose had telling Amanda’ssecret served? Caroline’s heart was still as broken, and his was gouged anew.
Light spilled into the dark space as Noah burst through the door. He marched up to Jackson and planted his fists on his hips. “Aunt Caroline is leaving.”
“She said that?”
“No. Miss Celia did.” Noah huffed a breath through his nose. “Did you tell her she had to go?”
“No.”
“Well, you musta done something to upset her. Miss Celia said Aunt Caroline up and decided she’s going back to town with her. And ever since she told me that, she’s been all outta sorts and muttering under her breath. You’re the only one who makes Miss Celiathatangry.”
Jackson pushed himself up from the crate. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Which her?”
“Both of them, I guess.”
Noah ran ahead, but Jackson’s steps dragged like a dull plow through hardpack. He’d buried a worse secret than the one he’d just told, a secret he’d never revealed to anyone, not even Amanda. He doubted it would change things, but maybe, if Caroline knew, she wouldn’t hate him so much.
Chapter 14
Celia glared at him when he walked through the door without missing one stir of the soup. She opened her mouth then clamped it shut, no doubt employing her very last scrap of restraint not to vent her spleen.
She’d never brought it up to him, how she’d heard him jabber on about Caroline during the war then arrived to find him married to Amanda. Celia was no one’s slave anymore, but, just as in her years of bondage, she kept her ears open and her mouth shut. She knew far more than those she served would ever fathom.
“Where is Caroline?”
“She went upstairs to lie down,” Celia said, casting him one last disappointed look before turning back to her soup.
Jackson didn’t stand for putting children in the middle of adult dissension, but the situation was dire, and he had little hope of a truce. Just as in battle, sometimes the end justified the means.
He squatted down next to his son. “If you can persuade Aunt Caroline to come downstairs, I’ll try to talk her into staying.”
“All right.”
Jackson watched Noah go until he was out of sight, then he paced the floor.
“You’re gonna wear grooves in the wood,” Celia grumbled.
He finished the current lap and walked to one of the windows.
What felt like an eternity later, Noah’s footsteps came down the stairs followed by Caroline’s.
Jackson fortified himself and turned around.
Caroline’s face was blotchy, and her eyes were rimmed in red. But she drew herself up and put on a stoic mask. “Noah says you wish to speak with me.”
“I do.”
Her gaze flicked to the boy then lifted and trained in Jackson’s general direction. “I doubt there’s anything more to say.”
He needed to speak with her someplace more private, but he doubted she’d indulge him so much as a walk across the room. Jewel, who was sitting on the floor, playing with her doll, wouldn’t understand what was said, nor would she repeat it. Noah, however, was growing sharper by the week.
