Hearts Awakening (40 page)

At midday, Ellie trudged back home with the boys.

She was hot, thirsty, hungry, and nearly as dirty as the boys, who dragged their feet as they walked alongside of her. She carried their baskets for them and wondered if the dark stains that covered her hands had been worth the precious few walnuts that filled only a quarter of one basket. It was a bit foolish to chide herself, again, for forgetting her gloves, but Ellie knew it would be weeks before she got those stains on her hands out.

As they neared the edge of the woods, she caught a glimpse of the house. Unbidden, a ray of hope shined through her doubt. Jackson had tried very hard to build a life here for his family, but would he really set her aside to marry Dorothea, knowing the scandal that would be unleashed? Would he subject his sons to more upheaval by introducing yet another woman into their lives and expect them to accept her as their mother? What about Ethan? Would he revert to muteness again? And what about Daniel? The poor boy had carried his own grief and confusion, as well as Ethan’s, for many months. How fair would it be to expect him to do that again?

She shook her head to erase those thoughts. She glanced down at the gold wedding ring she wore and thought of the scorched wooden ring that hung from Jackson’s neck. She did not want Jackson to keep her as his wife to avoid scandal or for the sake of his sons. She wanted him to keep her because he loved her or because he truly believed he could grow to love her one day as much as she loved him.

She stepped out of the shaded woods into full sunshine and pointed ahead, toward the house that was now in full view. “We’re almost home now. The first thing I’m going to do is make us something to eat and drink while you—”

Apparently energized by the promise of food, the boys did not wait for her to finish. They charged straight ahead, but instead of running around the side of the house to enter through the kitchen, they headed straight for the front door.

“Use the back door!” she cried and raced after them. “I just scrubbed that parlor floor!”

Whether they did not hear her or they heard her and decided not to obey was irrelevant. In the next moment they were inside, tracking mud onto the parlor floor.

Determined to keep them from tracking mud through the entire house, Ellie hitched up her skirts and ran after them. She raced across the front lawn and up the steps, bouncing half the walnuts they had gathered out of the basket in the process. She rushed into the house, only to stop dead in her tracks, just a few feet inside the door.

Panting for air, with her heart pounding, she stared hard, but there was not a single doubt in her mind that the incredibly beautiful young woman dressed in elegant mourning clothes, who was sitting next to Jackson on the settee, was the woman Jackson had loved for so long.

Forty

To say that Ellie felt like Cinderella at this very moment would be an understatement. At the moment she was probably dirtier than the hearths the fairy-tale heroine had been forced to clean. She set down her basket and tucked her hands into the folds of her dark brown skirts and managed a weak smile.

Dorothea, however, looked impeccable. Her black gown, made of a fabric Ellie had never seen, fairly shimmered. The veil on her bonnet had been pulled back, revealing tiny raven curls that framed her oval face. Her pale porcelain skin was flawless, and her eyes were sparkling, although they hardened into blue ice when she looked at Ellie.

Jackson rose to his feet looking like a little boy who had been caught stealing candy and nervously cleared his throat and introduced them to each other.

After exchanging a nod, as well as a long, assessing look, Dorothea smiled. “I must apologize for arriving unexpectedly, but it’s as difficult to send word out here to the island as it is to get here,” she murmured in a soft, cultured voice. “Under the circumstances and in the interest of time, I thought it best to come directly here. It’s a blessing to have old friends to rely upon in times of trouble, and it was my good fortune that Jackson came home at midday.”

Ellie was tempted to ask her what circumstances she might be referring to, if only to force the audacious woman to admit what she really meant: She had come here to steal another woman’s husband!

In the eyes of the law, however, she was not here to steal another woman’s husband at all, since Ellie and Jackson were husband and wife in name only. She managed to maintain a smile as she caught Jackson’s gaze. “Where are the boys?”

Dorothea shuddered. “He sent them upstairs to change. I had no idea little boys could be so unkempt or get so dirty.”

“I told them they could play with the puppies in the kitchen when they were done,” Jackson offered, clearly uncomfortable with having Ellie here and anxious to keep his boys away, as well.

She picked up her basket of walnuts, or what was left of them, and addressed his guest with courtesy, although it galled her to do so. “Since Jackson was supposed to be having dinner with the Grants, I was only going to heat up some of yesterday’s soup for myself and the boys. You’re welcome to stay.”

Dorothea looked at Jackson and smiled. “Actually, we were just discussing having dinner together later in the city, weren’t we, Jackson?”

“We were, but—”

“Then I’ll leave you both to make your plans,” Ellie murmured. She did not know how she found the strength, but she managed to walk away without having her legs crumple beneath her. Fighting back her tears, however, was more than she could do, and she only managed to swipe a few away when she heard the boys’ footsteps as they started down the staircase.

She hurried into the kitchen, pumped some water onto a clean cloth, and wiped away her tears before the boys came into the room.

“Pappy said we could play with the puppies,” Daniel announced as he headed for the pen with his brother.

“Remember to be gentle,” she cautioned. Anxious to escape for just a moment to get control of her emotions before the boys saw she was upset, she headed for the kitchen door. “Stay right there with the puppies. I’ll be right back. I want to get some fresh cream to top off our pudding for dessert,” she told them and slipped outside.

When she heard the front door to the house open, she hurried off to avoid seeing either Jackson or Dorothea. They certainly had not wasted any time making plans to meet later today, but she had no intention of facing either one of them until she had better control of herself. She slipped into the root cellar, which had been built into a man-made hill, closed the door, latched it tight, and leaned back against it.

Drawing in huge gulps of air, she pressed her arm against her forehead and sobbed as she felt her heart breaking.

Moments later, an unexpected, heavy bang at the root cellar door shook her back and shocked her into silence.

“Ellie! Open the door.”

More than a little provoked that Jackson must have seen her and followed her here, she swiped furiously at her wet face before opening the door. She remained standing, however, within the shadows of the root cellar to face the man she loved.

Bathed in sunshine, he stood only inches away from her, gazing at her with his dark blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

She cleared her throat. “G-getting some cream,” she managed and looked around. “Where’s Dorothea?”

“On her way to the landing,” he said, motioning with his hand toward the other end of the island. “We need to talk.”

Ellie took one look at the papers he had in his other hand, decided she did not need any cream after all, and walked out from the root cellar without bothering to close the door behind her.

He took a step back to allow her to pass and walked alongside her as she hurried back to the house. “Please don’t go off in a huff. I know you’re upset. I didn’t expect Dorothea to show up here today any more than you did. I mean, I knew she was coming home any day, but I had no idea she’d actually turn up—”

“You knew she was coming home any day? How?” Ellie snapped, without stopping or looking over at him. “You let me read the letter she sent you. She never specifically mentioned when she was coming back to Harrisburg.”

“She sent me another letter. I only picked it up yesterday when I went to the city. I was going to tell you tonight, when we sat down to talk, but then later, after I decided—”

“Why did you bring those letters out here?” she snapped and stopped to look down at the papers folded up tightly in his hand. The fact he was carrying around Dorothea’s letters while trying to talk to her was almost unthinkable. “To show me in writing how deeply she feels for you? Or are you feeling guilty that you didn’t show them to me before now?”

“These aren’t her letters,” he argued.

She huffed. “Then if they’re letters of reference for me, you wrote too many. I only need one. And don’t you dare toss any coins at me like you did once before. I’m perfectly capable of walking as far as necessary to find a new position for myself, thank you.”

“Look closer,” Jackson insisted. “You should recognize these papers. They’re the legal papers we signed before we got married, but unless you stop and listen to me instead of leaping to conclusions and charging off again, you won’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Since you came out to talk to me with our legal agreement in your hand and you’re meeting Dorothea for dinner later, you don’t need to explain anything. Your intentions are perfectly clear,” she argued. “I also think we’ve said all we need to say to each other. I have dinner to make. My boys are hungry, but I’m not going to pack my bag until they’ve had something to eat,” she added and started back to the house.

This time, he did not walk with her. If he wanted Dorothea, so be it, but she was not going to listen to any platitudes about how difficult his choice had been or how he was going to get annulment proceedings started or what a wonderful wife Ellie would make for another man someday.

“They’re not your boys.”

She stopped dead. Heart pounding, she spun around. Defiantly, she glared at him. “Wh-what did you say?” she managed, almost daring him to repeat his despicable words.

“I said, they’re not your boys.”

Her eyes welled with traitorous tears that threatened to undermine her determination to remain indifferent to him, but she kept them in check. If she had to leave, she would leave with dignity.

He walked toward her, taking one slow step at a time. When he was only inches away from her, he smiled. “They’re not my boys, either.”

Narrowing her gaze, she took a step back, but decided to hold her ground to listen to what he had to say.

He captured her gaze with his own and held it. “They’re
our
boys,” he whispered. “They need you, but most important, I need you and I want you to stay here and be my wife. My true wife.”

“M-me? You want me?” she said, so stunned by his words she almost forgot to breathe.

“You,” he said, stepping so close she could feel his breath on her face. “I want you to be the first thing that I see every morning, lying beside me when I wake up. I want to listen to you, humming softly, as you make griddle cakes for our sons. I want to hear you smile and laugh during the day, and I want you to climb the stairs with me every night when it’s time for bed because I want you to truly be my wife . . . because I love you. Only you,” he whispered.

“I thought you loved Dorothea.”

He smiled. “I thought I did, too.”

“Thought?” she managed, searching the depths of his gaze and finding only love shining back at her.

He smiled again. “I’ve spent the past week thinking and praying and thinking some more, but it wasn’t until I was high up on a ladder just a few hours ago and got a glimpse of that magnificent tree where you carved your initials that I knew I didn’t want to spend a single day without seeing or holding or loving one woman. Only one. And that woman is one of His most precious gifts to me, a gift I intend to treasure for the rest of my life, Elvira Kilmer Smith. Because that woman is you.”

She blinked hard, struggling for understanding. “B-but what about Dorothea?” she asked, finding his declaration of love for her, instead of Dorothea, to be confusing.

He smoothed a lock of hair off her face and smiled at her so lovingly that she thought she must be dreaming. “What about her?”

“Aren’t you meeting her later for dinner?”

“No,” he said firmly.

“But she said—”

“I was sitting right there. I heard what she said, too, but—”

“But if you aren’t meeting her later, why are you carrying around those legal papers of ours and why—”

“Are you going to stop interrupting me and listen, or do I have to kiss you to keep you quiet?” he teased, then simply wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed her, long and sweetly, anyway.

Nearly breathless when he finally set her free, she swayed, and he held her close to keep her steady. “Now that I have your attention, I need to tell you that I truly had no idea Dorothea would show up here today, let alone be waiting at the house when I returned to tell you that I wanted to stay married to you,” he murmured as he pressed his cheek to hers.

“I only agreed to meet with her later because I wanted to get her out of the house before you and the boys came back and found us there. Unfortunately, you all came home right after I did, and I needed to wait until you and the boys had left the room because I knew she was not going to be happy hearing what I had to say, and I didn’t want her rantings to upset the boys.”