Chapter Five
Poppy stood in the doorway of the small cabin she shared with Jacob, her eyes tracing over the life they had hastily built together. With each item she placed into her worn-out satchel—a few dresses, her mother’s locket, the quilt Sarah had made for her when she first started teaching—she felt pieces of her heart splinter.
Poppy heaved the last of her belongings onto the wagon. Her flaming red hair lay damp against her forehead from exertion. She took a moment to glance back at the home she was leaving behind, letting herself feel the pang of loss for what could have been.
“Come on, Poppy,” Sarah called gently from the driver’s bench. “Let’s head home.”
With a deep breath, Poppy climbed beside her sister, the wagon creaking under the shift of weight as they set off toward the King family homestead.
Two days passed, filled with the quiet company of Sarah and the mundane tasks that kept Poppy’s hands busy and her mind numb. She found solace in the rhythm of kneading dough and the simplicity of hanging laundry on the line.
She was even pleased not to have to make decisions about what to cook every day. It seemed to her that eating three times a day was a waste. Of course, the child within her demanded food to grow.
On the third morning, as Poppy bent over the garden pulling weeds, the sound of hoofbeats disturbed the stillness. She straightened, brushing dirt from her hands as she watched a familiar figure dismount from his horse. Jacob’s dark hair was tousled by the wind, and his eyes, which once seemed to hold the depth of night, now appeared clouded with confusion.
“Jacob,” she greeted him coolly, her arms crossing over her chest in a protective shield.
“Poppy,” he replied.
“Did it really take you two full days to notice I was gone?” Poppy couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice, her green eyes flashing with the accusation. She’d never understood the phrase that love and hate were opposite sides of the same coin before. As much as she loved Jacob, he could make her angrier than anyone else on earth.
Jacob’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He looked around the yard, taking in the absence of her presence in their shared space.
“Poppy, I—” He began, but she cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.
“Save your words, Jacob. I’ve heard them all before.” Her voice was as somber as the twilight descending upon the landscape, and she turned away.
“Poppy,” Jacob said, “I’ve been…preoccupied. But you can’t think I wouldn’t notice your absence. The silence in the house was deafening without you.”
“The silence in the house is deafening even if I’m there! I talk to myself, but I don’t answer. And it’s not as if you want to talk to me. You’ve proven that time and again.”
“I miss your voice.”
“Silence can be a comfort to some,” she said, not turning to face him. “Perhaps you’re just not used to it yet.”
Jacob took a step closer, and she could feel the warmth of him just out of reach. Poppy understood loss. It was a language they both spoke too fluently. But where Jacob had let it define him, Poppy fought with every breath to love despite it.
“Poppy,” he tried again, his tone softer this time, “I didn’t mean for things to become…what they are.”
She finally turned to look at him, seeing the way the last light of day played across his troubled features. It would have been so easy to melt into his apology. But the trail of their love was fraught with the ruts of his indifference, and Poppy knew she needed to heal before she could return to him if she ever could.
“Maybe not, Jacob,” she acknowledged. “But it doesn’t change that they did. And it doesn’t change that I’m here now, with Sarah, where I should have been all along.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more, to bridge the gap between them with words or perhaps an embrace. But the set of Poppy’s shoulders told him all he needed to know. It was going to take a lot more than one quick conversation to get her to return home.
“Take care of yourself, Poppy,” he said finally, sounding utterly defeated. “And take care of my baby.”
“I always do,” she replied as she walked away, leaving Jacob standing alone with the realization that her absence was a void nothing but her presence could fill.
*****
Jacob stood on the porch of Sarah’s modest homestead. The door swung open with a creak, and there she was—Poppy.
“Poppy,” he began, his voice rough. “You need to come home.”
Her green eyes flashed. “Home?” she asked. “Your house never felt like home, Jacob. It took me leaving for you to even notice my absence!”
“Poppy, I—” His words faltered under her glare.
