Jackson looked miserable, and for a fleeting moment, Caroline got to taste the revenge she’d longed for so many times. But it was undeserved and wrong, and it left a sour flavor on her tongue.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’d best hurry if I’m going to catch the stage.”
“Be careful,” he said as she backed away.
He’d saidbe carefulwhen what he’d wanted to do was drop to his knees and beg her not to leave, and if that failed, pleadpromise you’ll come back to me!Instead, he stood mute and watched her go with no assurance she’d return.
It sucked the life from him and surged his guilt to epic proportions. If the pain she’d felt when he married her sister was even afractionof the anguish pumping through his chest, he deserved to lose everything.
“Papa,” Noah called, “can we go to the sawmill now?”
Jackson climbed back on the wagon and drove it down the road to the mill.
Noah jumped down as soon as they’d come to a stop. He barely waited for Jackson to hoist Jewel into his arms then nearly tripped on his trousers, running around back of the structure, towhere Mr. Green had the puppies corralled. “Are there any left?” he asked, breathless.
Mr. Green poked his head out and joined them by the pen. “Sure, there are. But only them three.”
“Go ahead, Noah,” Jackson said. “Choose your favorite.”
Mr. Green chuckled as Noah climbed into the pen and was promptly mobbed by a band of wagging, licking canines. “Wore ya down, did he?”
“You have no idea.”
Jackson leaned over so Jewel could pet the puppies, too. None of the three could be called handsome, but they seemed in good health. “Do you see one you like?” he asked Noah.
Noah ceased playing and began looking each one over with a critical eye.
Two of them gamboled about, but the third sat on its haunches and looked at Noah, as if it was awaiting a command.
Noah stroked his head. “Do you want to be my dog?”
The pup barked and thumped his tail against the ground.
“I like this one,” Noah said.
The one he’d chosen had dingy gray fur with splotches of black. It looked like a white dog that had rolled in ashes then been splattered with a brush from an oil bucket. The only thing the pup had to recommend it was a cheerful disposition and striking pale-blue eyes.
Jackson pulled a few dollars from his pocket and held them out to Mr. Green. He was a freed slave, too, working hard to make a life for himself, just like Celia. “I’m still deciding about the dog. Can you hold on to him for a couple more weeks?”
He waved the money away. “I’ll keep the pup for free. If’n you change yer mind, thens you can pay me.”
Jackson spent several minutes chatting with Mr. Green then took the children to Celia’s and returned to the farm. The pasture was full of activity, but the house was dismal…soundlessand empty. If Caroline didn’t return, this would be his existence for years to come, unless he found another woman willing to become his wife and mother to his children.
But he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted her.
The trip to Greenvale took six days. Heavy snow and ice slowed the train to a crawl in Omaha. Then mechanical problems caused a twenty-hour delay in Indiana. By the time Caroline made it to Pennsylvania, she was travel-weary.
She’d kept her family apprised via telegram, and thus Walsh. She’d hoped to spare herself an extempore meeting with him by being vague about the exact time of her arrival to Greenvale, but he’d anticipated the schedule and was waiting for her at the station.
“Oh, my…” Walsh said as she stepped off the train.
She had only two mourning dresses, and she’d worn both several times.
He eyed her with a look that held more empathy than revulsion, bless him. “I was sorry to hear about the delays. You must be exhausted.”
She gave him a weak smile and attempted to smooth errant strands of hair. “I am.”
He offered his arm and began escorting her down the platform. “How was your trip otherwise?”
