LAURIE
Monday morning was grueling.
Jason had been generous the following day, allowing Laurie to sleep through Sunday services. He was even kind enough to heat some stew for their supper, allowing Laurie to continue to shut herself away from the world. However, Monday he roused her early. Her brief respite, it seemed, was over.
Jason watched her with a keen eye as she slowly went about making his morning coffee and kept his thoughts to himself when breakfast was late. Laurie's body ached from the fight with Hannah, and she had a purple bump over her eye, the only visible evidence of the altercation the day before. She had done the best she could with her toilette, but there was no help for it. She wouldn't be able to be seen in public for at least a week.
After Laurie finished the breakfast dishes, she noticed Jason hadn't left to tend to his normal activities. He, his brothers, and the few men that dared to help him finish their cabin, notwithstanding her bad luck, had completed the roof, fence, and a small chicken coop that Jason promised to fill soon. She had thought after her fiasco with Hannah he would retreat to the lumber camp. Instead, he had stayed close to her during the weekend, and now he sat at the table while staring into the empty fireplace. He nursed his coffee until he said her name so low it made her jump.
"Hmm?"
"Are you finished with your morning chores?"
She looked at the broom in her hand and wrinkled her nose. The action pulled at the lump on her head, and she gingerly touched it. Ouch.
"I suppose so."
"Good. I want to get this over with."
"Get over with what?" she asked, her throat suddenly dry and her body felt too weak to hold the broom, her eyes widening as he stood and walked to her.
"I told you last night."
Laurie's mind flitted over the stilted conversation supper had produced. He had brought her meal to her in bed, with a hint of smoke, but edible. She had been too grateful to care. She handed him the broom and tried to steady the slight shake of her hand.
"I'm sorry, I can't remember."
"That's all right. I remember for both of us. We're going to go talk to Hannah."
"Now?!"
"Now." He put the broom aside and firmly but gently guided her out the door and on their way to Seattle.
Neither of them talked much, Laurie glancing at him continually, but the grim set to his jaw made her lower her gaze straight ahead each time. Several people who saw them enter town quickly jumped out of the way with only murmured greetings. Others who were more openly curious followed at a safe distance.
When Jason knocked on the dormitory door, the woman that answered tried to stop him, but Jason pushed his way in, pulling Laurie along with him.
"Jason," said Candy with a nod, as if reciting a rehearsed line. She wore a yellow and green calico dress that made her look taller than usual, a kerchief tied over her hair, and a broom in her hand. Laurie eyed her with skepticism, but neither she nor Jason was giving any clues. "What can I help you with?"
His back straight as an arrow, he formally announced, "Mr. and Mrs. Bolt to see Miss Hannah Baird, Candy." He glanced at Candy and informally added with a touch of violence in his tone, "And if she tries to refuse us, you tell her I'll march straight up there and take her backside over my knee."
"Jason!" Laurie exclaimed, but he didn't acknowledge she had spoken.
"I mean it, Candy," he said, lowering his voice to where she and Laurie were the only two that could hear him. "She's dragged this thing out long enough, and now it's gone too far."
"I quite agree," said Candy, and she flounced up the stairs.
Jason took Laurie's hand with a tender smile and looked around the room. Laurie watched as he did so, noticing that most of the women's eyes quickly averted to the windows or the floor, with exception to the few that openly gawked at the lump over her eye.
Within minutes she heard Candy call for them, and Jason helped her up the stairs. Several brides made their way out of the room when they emerged in the upper story of the dormitory. It was one large room, with neatly made beds and small end tables lining the walls. Large lamps adorned every table, a crocheted doily under each.
"I'll be downstairs," Candy told Laurie, and she exited with the other women, leaving Jason and Laurie alone with Hannah.
"Thank you," Laurie belatedly murmured.
Together, she and Jason faced the jilted woman. Hannah stood in front of the door that led to an outside flight of stairs, fiddling with a blonde curl. One of her eyes had swollen, and not unlike the welt above Laurie's eye, had changed into a dark, purplish color. There was still some swelling around her nose, but Laurie felt relieved. It seemed their altercation hadn't done permanent damage, and for that she was grateful.
"Thank you for seeing us," said Jason.
"Why did you bring her?" Hannah asked, her chin slightly lifting. "Rather poor taste, Jason."
"Because this is about her, and if we met together, alone, that would spark more rumors, something none of us need or want."
Laurie hovered just slightly behind Jason, watching. Their manner toward each other was familiar, but their tones felt a little stilted. Hannah's hand seemed glued to her hip, though her lips quivered. Jason had hooked the heel of his boot on a bed frame and leaned forward on one knee, while still holding Laurie's hand next to him.
"No," she said, with a glance at Laurie. "I don't want rumors. Only the truth."
"Who's truth? Yours?"
"No, the actual truth."
"All right. Here."
Jason straightened and pulled out the box he had shown Laurie the day before out of his pocket, holding it out to Hannah without moving toward her. With a twinge, Laurie saw he had tied a pink ribbon around it. Hannah took it from him, and when she opened it, she lifted the necklace out and gave him a stony stare.
"What is this?"
"You asked for jewelry when I went to Tacoma. With all the excitement of a new wife, I forgot to give it to you."
"A necklace?"
"A breakup present. At the time, I wasn't sure, but I know now that's why I bought it. I couldn't marry you, Hannah. Surely you can see that."
With a haughty flip of her hair, she said, "No, I don't."
Jason sighed, and his voice took on a heavy, weary sound. "Why not?"
"You courted me several times..."
"And I cooled it off several times."
"But this time it lasted months. We had finally progressed..."
"An oversight on my part and I didn't 'progress' as you say. Not that way."
"But the things you said!"
"Just pretty words, Hannah. I was having a good time, I thought you understood."
Laurie's heart ached—he sounded so tender, yet tired.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't, but I can see there are no other options."
"She's a singer!" Hannah cried out in a voice that sounded close to a wail. "A performer!"
"What of it?"
Hannah's eyes widened at Jason's tone. "You knew?"
He glanced at Laurie, his features softening into something more thoughtful. "When I married her? No, but it wasn't hard to figure out. She has a beautiful voice. It would be a shame for her to waste it."
"Jason, I'm not blaming you," said Hannah, setting the necklace down on an end table. "I know how hard this has been on you. Being forced into a marriage—"
"Stop."
"But it's true!"
"So what if it is? What difference does it make? It doesn't change things. It doesn't change how I feel about her now."
Laurie shifted. She hoped he didn't lie to the girl.
"Yes, it does. Of course, it changes things," Hannah said, taking her turn to interrupt him. "I know how you feel about marriage without love. You can't be happy."
"You'd be surprised."
"Jason..."
"Did I ever say I loved you?"
"No, you were waiting for the right time."
"No. I never said it because I didn't. I don't love you, Hannah. I never did."
Both Laurie and Hannah gasped at his abrupt confession.
Jason scratched his chin with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I enjoyed our time together. I enjoyed your company. I thought it was fun for you too. But that's all it was, just fun. It's over. I—" He faltered and looked back at Laurie. Her stomach twisted when she saw the sorrow in his eyes before he shook his head at Hannah. "I don't want there to be any unkindness between you and my wife. I think had things been different you might have been friendly, if not friends."
"But things aren't different," Hannah said, her words edged with a thousand knives.
"I know. All I can ask is, let me go. If you care about me the way you say you do, please, Hannah. Let me go."
"It's not that easy, I can't—Jason, I love you!"
Laurie bit her lip. Hannah sobbed into her hands, and she could see Jason straining against himself to go to her. She felt nauseated, and inside she told herself she should be the one to let him go. It wasn't fair, not to him, not to her... and not to this girl who had invested so much of herself in him.
Still, she stayed rooted to her spot, willing herself not to break. Jason had seen fit to bring her, so he must trust her on some level, or perhaps to punish her. Either way, she wouldn't disappoint him. He was doing what had to be done, for all their sakes. She could too.
"I know you do. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." He spoke his words so softly, so kindly, it tore Laurie's heart out to hear them and felt her own tears well up.
"Why can't you just annul it? What are you trying to prove?" Hannah asked through the tears.
Jason exchanged a look, and he dropped his head in resignation. "I have two reasons, and I'm not proving anything. Do you want to hear them both, or is it enough to say I can't, and I don't want to?" Hannah shook her head and cried harder. Jason watched her for a moment and shook his head again like he was trying to clear it. "Fine. I can't annul it because I have consummated the marriage, contrary to your belief. We're taking our time settling into domestic life, but we did that deed our first night in Seattle."
Laurie flinched at his brazen words, and Hannah hiccuped and sat straight, her mouth making a little "O."
"And second, I don't want to. I don't know how you found out, but you were right. It was a forced marriage. But I've developed feelings that—I won't sever that tie. We gave vows in front of witnesses and a reverend in a church. Those are facts I hear you've overlooked."
"I can't believe that. I know you felt something for me. Saturday, the way you touched me. The way you, the way you let me kiss you," she said, dropping her voice to just above a whisper to say the last two words.
Jason let go of Laurie to get closer to Hannah. His voice stayed calm, but to Laurie's relief, he didn't touch her this time. "Whatever I felt for you, and whatever feelings are still lingering there... I'm not denying anything, you understand. I shouldn't have let that happen. There is no excuse really, but I suppose maybe I was a bachelor for too long. I've apologized to Laurie and I'm apologizing to you. I feel tender towards her, Hannah. The good Lord knows I wish you could see it. That she could see it. And I am sorry, but after the bazaar, I can't have any more private conversations with you. I hope you understand. For your sake, and ours."
Hannah continued to cry, her shoulders moving with each sob. After a moment, Jason walked back to Laurie and offered her his hand. "Let's go."
Laurie hesitated. She knew that kind of cry and felt responsible. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but thought better of it and put her hand in Jason's and let him lead her silently down the stairs into a crowd of women.
"She needs a friend," her husband said to a few of the brides Laurie had seen hovering around Hannah earlier and didn't wait to watch them tear up the stairs. Instead, he guided Laurie into the sunshine to stand in front of the saloon, silently observing it. With his hands on his hips, he smiled shyly down at her. "It's over, Laurie. She knows, now. For sure."
"Yes," Laurie said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Are you all right? You looked pale in there."
"Um, yes. I think so. It was hard. To watch, I mean."
There was a flash of pain in his eyes. "Yes, I imagine so. I'm sorry, but I didn't know how else to... Well, it's done now."
"Yes. Thank you."
Jason looked back up at the saloon and licked his lips.
"I imagine you probably need a drink after that," Laurie ventured.
A thin smile crossed his face. "I need a whole lot of drinks after that," he admitted. "But I'll take you home first. I have a meeting I need to get to."
"A meeting?" Not a meeting with his brothers. He wouldn't call it that. "With Mr. Stempel?"
"No. Well, yes, he'll be there. A town meeting about hiring a sheriff. I don't know what we're going to do. Seattle can't afford one."
"Isn't a marshal paid by the attorney general? I think Richard was."
"And?"
"Well, a marshal can live anywhere he wants to, as long as he can service the area."
Jason shook his head. "We've seen the current territorial marshal on occasion, but we're not big enough to attract that kind of lawman."
"But I never lived here before."
The crease on Jason's forehead deepened. "So?"
"So Richard is—I mean, you might get him to come here." Jason's look of horror made her bite the inside of her cheek, but she kept going. "I know what he did was wrong, but it's an option."
"Not to me, it isn't."
"But he's going to come, anyway. And if money is the issue... which I've been meaning to ask if we are in financial trouble?"
The look on Jason's face was unreadable. The only clue to the trouble brewing under the surface was the vein that had become more prominent in his neck. "Who said that?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"I—I just heard..."
"Hannah."
"Jason, please, I want to help."
Her husband studied the ground for a moment and kicked the still-moist dirt with his moccasin boot before answering. "I have to go to this meeting, Laurie." He shifted and took in a deep breath. "Now, I don't want to hear anything else about your brother coming to live here, or financial troubles, or past courtships. If you want to help me, go about your day, and when I come home tonight, let's both try to relax and enjoy the evening. Do you understand?"
"Yes, but—"
"Right now I'll take you home," he said, beginning to take her arm. Laurie stepped back and shook her head, feeling like she had just been strangled.
"I'd like to walk home by myself, please."
"Why? I don't mind."
"You said you needed a drink. No, a whole lot of drinks," she corrected herself with her handheld up when he opened his mouth to protest. "Well, I need some time alone too. A whole lot of time."
Jason let his hand drop to his side, his face falling, and Laurie's heart immediately pounded. She knew it was wrong to be contrary.
"Maybe you're right. I'll see you later." He gently kissed her forehead, and without another word, left her side to enter the saloon.
Laurie walked toward home, but her steps faltered. Her insides felt raw, and she was angry. She wasn't sure who or what she was angry about, but the desire to scream made her throat ache. Deciding she wanted something to calm her nerves, she changed her direction and walked to Ben's mercantile, her shoulders back and her chin up.
Sometimes Jason resembled nothing like Sherman, she mused, crossing Seattle Square and ignoring the glances from the other townspeople. Other times she felt just as stifled as though she had never left Louisiana. Why wouldn't he listen to her? At the very least, they could wire the governor's office and request a marshal for temporary residence. Laurie couldn't see how that would hurt anything.
She entered the mercantile and drifted to the catalog she had been leafing through during the bazaar. Perhaps she could have avoided the whole thing with Hannah if she'd tried to attract her husband a little more. It wasn't as if they'd had a courtship. There had been no flirting, no whispered desires. With exception to sharing secrets, no nothing except gritting their teeth and seeing it through. They may not be in love, but Laurie had been trained extensively on the subtle art of catching a man and had observed enough in San Francisco to know a little about keeping one. Perhaps it was time to employ that knowledge too.
"Can I do something for you, Mrs. Bolt?" said Ben, coming in from the back room. "I've got to head out in a minute. Town council's having a meeting, you know." When she turned, he took a step back. "Wow. That's quite a shiner."
Laurie touched her braided hair and ignoring his comment, she said, "Yes, Mr. Perkins. I'd like to make that order out of the catalog, please."
Ben smiled appreciatively. "Yes, ma'am. Jason's going to love it."
"I hope so," she said, watching the shopkeeper write the order. After quoting her size to him, she added, "And I'd like a bottle of wine, please."
"Wine? Kinda shocked you didn't send Jason for that," he said, motioning to her eye.
"But then how could I keep it a surprise? The gown, not the wine. Please don't tell him."
Ben chuckled. "Oh, that Jason's sure the lucky one. Go ahead and sign the receipt. I'll be right back with a bottle. Last week Clancey brought me back some pretty potent stuff."
Ben disappeared back into the storeroom. Laurie scribbled her name across the bottom of his receipt and fiddled with the sleeve on her dress. She had worn a pale peach dress to lighten her spirits that morning with dainty lace at the cuffs. Now, as she mentally told the nuns to shut it, she wished she'd chosen black. After all that had happened, Jason wasn't the only one needing a drink. Besides, according to Jason, they could afford it.
"Here ya go, Mrs. Bolt," Ben said, handing her a brown paper bag with a bottle inside. "I'll send that order with Clancey."
"Thank you," she said demurely and looked at him through her eyelashes. "Can you settle without telling Jason?"
"Don't worry, I've got plenty of practice hiding things in the grocery bill."
"Oh. Do people do that often?"
"Only wives who like to surprise their husbands," he said with another chuckle. "Not that too many do that sort of thing in these parts."
Laurie rubbed her thumb against the paper bag, her thoughts already swirling into a plan. "How soon will it come in?"
"Oh, Clancey's leaving either tomorrow or the next day. No more'n three weeks, I'd say."
Maybe in time for his birthday. Feeling a surge of creativity, Laurie flashed Ben her most winning smile, the one she used in San Francisco when she looked in the mirror to assure herself she was ready to go on stage.
"I'm looking forward to it."
JASON
Jason downed another shot of whiskey and glared at Aaron's raised eyebrow. Matthew was still munching on his protests and if he didn't quit his yammering, Jason was going to give up and drink the whole retched bottle.
"And another thing..."
The entire council groaned, and Aaron stood up. "Alright Matthew, we get the point."
"Now wait a minute Aaron, I've got a right to say my peace," the portly man said, scratching his bald head.
"And we've got a right to live in peace," Aaron countered, and mumbles of agreement and a few chuckles followed. "Sit down. We need to vote."
Wilson, one of the older members of the town council, shook his head. "Come on, Matthew, I want to go home." He pushed his black-rimmed glasses high on his nose. "Time for my afternoon nap."
There was another round of hardy chuckles.
"Well, so long as people understand..."
"We understand just fine," Jason said, shifting in his chair. "All those in favor of hiring a sheriff—"
"Wait a minute," said Aaron, holding his hand up and looking pointedly at Jason. "There is one option we haven't considered."
"Oh, seriously, Aaron, that's not an option. I wasn't myself this morning. I shouldn't have said anything."
"Shouldn't have said what?" Ben asked.
"Well, why not? Okay, so you don't like your brother-in-law. But it might be good publicity for the town."
"What's he talking about?" Matthew asked, looking from Aaron to Jason.
There was a dark pause between the board members. Lottie had put them up in the backroom of her saloon, and the stillness made it harder to breathe than the heaviness of cigar smoke mingled with the scent of whiskey and beer. Jason leaned back in his chair and poured himself another glass.
"Oh, my wife had a suggestion this morning. Her brother is a territorial marshal, and she said he might, might, be willing to take up residence here instead of Olympia. He wouldn't be around all the time, but with his home in Seattle, a lot of would-be problematic people might think twice about staying around. And since the attorney general's office pays the marshals—"
"They become very affordable," Aaron finished.
"Yeah, but the way you talk about it, what's the catch?" asked Ben.
Jason looked up at the ceiling. Did wanting to throttle the man for every infraction he had ever committed against his sister count as a catch?
"Well, Jason would have to put up with him," Aaron offered, his cigar butt in between his fingers.
"Oh?" asked Mathew. "What's wrong with him?"
"Uh, you might say he and my wife are often... at odds."
"Oh, well, if that's all—"
"Not minor disagreements," Jason continued, cutting Mathew off, and stood up. He suddenly felt very warm, recognizing how much he didn't want to see Richard McConnell again. "He's hurt her before. If I consent to wire him, I want every man's word they'll keep an eye out for Laurie until he proves he can be respectful. The first time he upsets her—"
Jason set his hand down hard on the back of his chair and gripped it hard, breathing out slowly. "You need to understand, if he comes here, it will be at my family's expense. A sacrifice for Seattle. I don't want that to bring her any more pain. Is that clear?"
"Sure, Jason, sure," said Wilson, quickly taking a swig of beer.
"Well, if it puts Laurie in danger," said Aaron, walking to put his hand on Jason's shoulder, "We'll think of something else. I just thought since she offered, it was a viable option."
"She's a kind woman," Jason said, suddenly tired. "And I don't think he'll do any physical harm. It's her emotional state I'm worried about. At any rate, he may refuse, in which case this conversation is pointless. It's hard to say."
There was silence in the room. After a few clock ticks, Wilson cleared his throat. "A trial basis sounds good. We can't afford a sheriff, Matthew's been adamant on that subject, and I hate to see people move away because they're scared. Life's hard all over. At any rate, contacting Laurie's brother might buy us some time." He thought for a moment and added, "Couldn't we invite him to investigate the area, and if he minds his manners, that's when we'll offer him a full-time position?"
"Probation without calling it that. I like it," said Aaron, turning to Jason. "Makes a lot of sense."
"Yeah," said Matthew. "I move for contacting Jason's brother-in-law."
"I second the motion," Wilson said, avoiding eye contact with Jason.
Ben gave Jason an apologetic look. "Me too."
"And I vote yes, too," said Aaron, adding, "Don't worry, Jason. He won't lay a finger on her while I'm around."
Jason gave him a half-smile. "Thank you, Aaron. Sometimes it's not fingers that do the most damage. Words can kill a person, you know."
"Not on my watch."
Aaron met Jason's eyes evenly. Slowly, Jason sucked in his breath and let it out. "All right. I'll send a wire and see what happens. Ben, I'll meet you at the store in a few. When I get a response, I'll let the rest of you know what he says." Wasting no more time on the subject, he left the room, the door shutting with a bang behind him.
"Well, how'd it go?" Lottie asked when he emerged into the bar.
"I'll tell you in a few weeks," he said, and took a drink out of her hand, downed it, and put the empty glass back in her hand.
"That bad, huh?"
"Remind me again why I never learned to keep my mouth shut."
"Hmm," said Lottie, setting the glass down. "I think I'm not going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole."
Jason grinned at her.
"McAllister and Eli are back in town."
Jason inspected his fingernails before asking, "Bring any men with them?"
"Jeremy said they had half a crew, maybe a little more. Seems McAllister delivered the extra men you asked for."
Jason shook his head. "You know, I thought Josh was overreaching when he suggested I send them to Clearwater for some men. Seems I was wrong."
Lottie made a sound like a harrumph. "Like that's anything new. How's Laurie? I heard you dragged her over to witness the great and mighty breaking of Hannah's heart."
"And if I hadn't?"
"True. But even so, it must have been hard on her. We won't talk about Hannah's feelings."
Jason thought about the stricken look on his wife's face and silently agreed. To have to face the woman she had seen kissing her husband, even if it had been a quick, instantly regretted kiss, would have to have been painful. "I imagine so."
"I heard there was kissing involved."
"Lottie..."
"Oh, it's none of my business if you want to go kissing people you aren't married to, but that isn't like you. Is it really so hard for you to settle down?"
"It was a momentary lapse of judgment. Won't happen again."
Lottie rolled her enormous eyes. "That's what you told Laurie?"
"That's the way it is."
"Well, I hope she believes you. Besides, any woman that can defend what's hers the way she did is worthy of Seattle. I want to see her stick around."
Jason's lips perked up around the edges. "You and me both. Uh, if you see either Josh or Jeremy, tell them I need to talk to them. Serious Bolt brothers' business."
"Sure, and you tell Laurie I'll come by tomorrow. Thought I'd give her the day to work out her feelings."
"I will," he said, and with a wave, he stepped out of the saloon.
After running a few errands, listening to Swede's report from camp, and going over the wire with Ben, he walked home, his gait slower than usual. Nothing about the past few days had been pleasant, and he had a sinking feeling that things weren't fully settled yet. A breeze kicked up, and while observing the grey clouds roll in, he breathed in a deep breath, savoring the smell of rain in the early evening air.
The fresh aroma of bread hit Jason as he entered the house. He planted himself firmly in place and resolved to never take the smell for granted. Thinking his wife would be inside the kitchen, he followed his nose to the oven and realized with a start that the place was pristine, with only two fluffy loaves cooling in the windowsill and a pot of stew that seemed to be newly simmering marking Laurie's work for the day. No dishes on the table, no other projects in various stages of completion.
"Laurie?" he called.
When she didn't answer his chest instantly tightened, and he checked the washing room and then the bedroom. Not finding her, he circled the cabin. Just as he was about to head back into town, he saw her footprints going toward the back of the cleared property.
Remembering an afternoon they had shared alone when he was working on the cabin, he strode behind a small line of trees. She had mentioned how calming she found the view to be. Jason felt it had been one of their better moments. He sighed in relief when she came into view, sitting on a large rock with her back to him. She had put a bottle of wine with more than half its contents next to her on the ground, and she held a nearly empty glass in her hand. She was swaying slightly, and as Jason approached, he could hear the low melody she was humming.
"That's pretty," he said, squatting next to her. "I know I've heard that song before. What is it?"
"Home Sweet Home," she said and took a sip from her glass. "Some ex-soldiers taught it to me in San Francisco." She leaned back and with droopy eyes, she smiled lazily at him. "You're home early."
Jason had nodded at the familiar song title. Friends from both sides of the war often requested Lottie to play it when she was in a mood to entertain them. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. It's near half-past four."
"Hmm." She scanned the view of the trees and river below. "I still can't believe how pretty it is. All those pines."
There was a slow roll of thunder overhead, and Jason's lips twitched with a memory. "Smell them yet?" he asked, feigning innocence.
Her nose wrinkled. "Only when I'm out here." He waited a few seconds, knowing she would remember.
She rewarded him with a gasp. "Oh, Jason!"
He laughed and sat beside her. "You know, we have one of the town vagrants cleaning the streets every other day because of you. Seattle has never smelled so sweet."
Her cheeks were rosy pink. "I know," she said softly. "We never really talked about that. I felt dreadful." She looked into the glass and swallowed hard. "I guess Seattle's grown on me."
He chuckled and looked up at the sky. Colors in the sky converged, leaving a beautiful canvas of blue and grey shades. Another rumble sounded while a warm breeze floated between them.
"Just Seattle?" he teased.
"Jason."
He refocused on her, thinking she would have a light countenance and found instead her lips forming a troubled pout. He straightened and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"
"I—We, I mean. We seem to have a habit of putting off things. But I can't. Not this time."
Her tone had a ring of confidence he hadn't heard her use before. There was no question between them what it was she needed to discuss.
"It was just a kiss, Laurie. I swear, nothing else."
"Just a kiss?" Her tone was cutting, and he pressed his lips together to keep from saying something else just as stupid. When he didn't answer her she asked, her tone cautious and heavy, "And what about next time?"
"I told you. There won't be one. "
She polished off the contents in her glass and handed it to him. Unsure if she meant for him to refill it or put it down, he held it in his hands, tiny and fragile. Like her. Like their marriage. And he had handled both like the bumbling lumberjack he was.
She stood, and his chest squeezed in that constrictive way that had grown familiar to him whenever Laurie was involved. She walked a few steps and sighed, pressing her fingers to her chest. "This whole thing hurt. Not the fight. This."
"I know," he muttered and put the glass down before walking to her. The small vista behind her bathed the valley in fifteen shades of green, and when she looked up at him, it was as if her eyes had soaked in every one of them.
"Tell me."
He should have known she would ask. How could he explain what he didn't understand himself? Only a woman would want to know. He rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck before answering. "I'm not excusing it, you understand. Whatever you saw, it was wrong. I knew it instantly."
"Not before?"
"No. I thought she wanted a goodbye kiss." When Laurie's eyes lifted in surprise, he animatedly used his hands for emphasis. "Not like that! On the cheek. Well, what I mean is, we were talking. Just talking about... oh, I don't remember. And then she said she couldn't get over me, knowing how miserable I was. I told her I wasn't. She said she knew about the whole forced... well and, oh, I don't know. I should have denied it."
"I'm glad you didn't. Lying doesn't help anyone."
"But I told her I was sorry she's unhappy. Heaven help me because I can't help myself! I hate seeing her like that. I brought her here, just like all the other brides. I've always taken care of them, you understand. At least, at first, I did, until they felt settled, more or less."
"I wouldn't expect you to have been indifferent."
He groaned and faced the trees away from her and took in a deep breath, resolved to say what he had avoided since he'd said the words, I do. "I never wanted to hurt her. I think that's why I was so torn. I didn't love her, I didn't want to marry her, but I regretted leading her on. The whole time I thought she understood we were just passing the time... Well, I knew no matter what I did, she was going to get hurt."
Laurie had followed him and put her hand on his arm. Her voice was warm and understanding. "You loved her. In your own way."
"No, but she deserved better. That's the entire center of this mess, isn't it? I never loved her. And even so, I would let her kiss me."
"Because you're not in love with me either."
Another rumble from the sky sounded much closer while Jason weighed her statement. Laurie's voice was kind and reassuring as if seeking confirmation. It was true before, but now? Now he felt something. If he could just be sure.
"I wouldn't say that," he finally answered. "I told you both, I don't feel the same as I did when we first met. I care. Isn't it enough?"
"But Jason—"
"Look," he said, grabbing her by her shoulders just as the first drops of the storm pelted the ground. Laurie flinched, although he wasn't sure whether from being startled by him or the hard rain. "What more can I say to convince you?!"
"I don't know!" she said, her voice rising to meet his tone. She grasped his arms almost as hard as he was gripping her. "I don't know what I want anymore. I'm so tired, Jason! Just tired. All I know is, I walked in on Sherman several times with other people in his bed, and whether or not they were willing to be there, it never hurt me as much as that kiss—as seeing you with her." She pushed his hands away, her tears now mixing with the steadily falling rain, and said, "I'm just so angry with you!"
Another crack sounded across the sky, and Jason pressed his lips together. They were both quickly becoming drenched. His jacket and wool shirt gave him some protection, but she wasn't dressed for the elements. He stepped closer, and she eyed him like a caged animal, water plastering her hair to her head, her shoulders moving with deep breathing. He held his hand out, palm up, and waited. She looked at it suspiciously, and with a little hesitancy, put her hand in his.
"I trusted you," she said, her voice strained and quivering.
"I know. I have to win it back."
"How?"
"Well, the first thing I'm going to do is get us out of this storm," he said with an exasperated gesture to the sky. "And get us both into some dry clothes." He moved to pull her toward the cabin, but her black eye made him pause.
She had fought for their marriage. For him. And what had he done to prove himself? Kissed another woman, that's what. Sure, he'd bought pretty things and built a cabin, but it wasn't enough, was it? In a softer voice, he lightly touched the bruise and said, "And after that, we'll sit by a fire I'm going to build, and we'll have a little brandy."
"Jason, I'm not blackmailing you. I just want—"
"You want to trust the man you're married to. Maybe the first step is for both of us to forgive how it started."
"Forgive?"
"Isn't that what family does?"
The rain poured over them while she searched his face, squinting in the fading light. He tried to smile and tug her toward the house, but she held back, and he felt a stab of impatience.
"But that means we have to forgive Richard," she told him right before he gave an exasperated sigh.
"You're right. Which is one of the reasons why I'm sending a wire asking him to come to Seattle."
Laurie's eyes widened. "You did that?"
"Well, I filled out the wire. I haven't given it to Ben yet. I wanted to wait and see if you're honestly okay with it." His nerves were on fire, and he desperately wanted to haul her into the cabin but waited. He might be guilty of stupidity, but experience had taught him sometimes it was better to hear a person out instead of pushing them to do what he wanted. Not that it was an effortless task. He wasn't exactly the most patient of men. "I want you to feel safe."
She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, giving them a hard rub. "As long as you're my husband, I know I'll be all right. Richard won't bother me. And I want... I don't want to be angry with you, but I just can't forgive it right away. Please understand."
He pulled her close, their clothes sticking to each other. "I do. You need time. I wish I could take it back, darling. How many ways can I say it? I'm sorry, I'm honestly sorry."
He bent to put his head on hers and waited while her hands slowly found their way around his waist until they were both in the embrace. "Never again," he said with more meaning in those two words than in his wedding vows. "You'll never have to see, or hear, anything like that again."
She sniffled and said, "As long as we both shall live?"
"As long as we both shall live," he echoed.
"Well, I guess it's normal to have family squabbles."
A married man kissing another woman was hardly a squabble, but he let it go. "And we help each other through them. I know your family was different, but in mine, we work together to come to a happy compromise for all. If we can."
He felt the tension ease out of his lungs when he felt her shoulders relax, and they held each other like that with one word repeating in his mind until she let go.
Family.
She picked up her heavy skirts and stumbled between their weight and the increasing gusts of wind. He steadied her at the arm until they were on the porch. He followed her inside the kitchen, having to grip the doorknob when the wind tried to blow it out of his hands. The door shut with a bang behind them.
"I have some towels in the washroom," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"All right."
He took out two bowls, but she shook her head. "No, I don't want—I'm just going to bed. If that's okay," she added, her chin drooping further into her chest.
"But dinner?"
"I'm not hungry," she said and grabbed a towel.
"Of course," he muttered, and watched her silently scurry out of the kitchen.
He looked up at the ceiling before closing his eyes and mentally steadied himself, after which he put the dishes back and took the stew off the stove. Now lacking an appetite himself, he set the lid on it with a clank and threw some ash on the dying fire.
Satisfied, he grabbed another towel and joined her in the bedroom. She was already in a nightgown, sitting at her vanity, her hair still damp around her shoulders, a soggy pile of clothes left on the floor. It was a testament to the state of her nerves. Typically, she was meticulous about the floors. He slowly took off his jacket, shirt, and undershirt, and thought he saw her blush before putting down his mother's brush, the one she had confiscated her first night in Seattle. He still hadn't told her that little tidbit either. He sat down to take his boots off while she climbed in between the covers.
"Goodnight, Jason."
There was a finality in her voice that made him look up and notice she had said it to the wall. With a frown, he stripped and changed into dry underclothes, got into bed next to her, and said, "Goodnight, Laurie. I hope tomorrow is better for you."
He heard her murmur after a brief pause, "Thank you."
Maybe tomorrow would be better for him too.