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She narrowed her eyes as she put a hand up for shade, but she wasn’t afraid this time. She wouldn’t let them scare her anymore. If someone came out to bother her again, she’d tack his name up all over town. She’d say she’d found Jesus and wanted to make the sinners pay.
Smiling in satisfaction at the idea, she waited for the rider to draw closer. Her smile fell when he removed his hat, and all her bravery dropped away and sank into the dry soil.
It was Caleb. Caleb, who was supposed to be over the mountains by now and never coming back. His horse was equipped for travel and he looked worn and dusty. She didn’t understand how he could be here.
She retreated one step and felt Melisande’s hand on her shoulder. “You want me to fetch Bill?”
Jessica shook her head. No, she could manage this on her own, whatever he wanted. She was almost sure of it.
God, he looked so serious as he slowed his horse and eased it only a few steps closer. What could he want from her now?
He dismounted and kept his hat in his hands as he drew near.
“I’ve already spent the money,” she said tightly, hoping that would send him away. “Taxes. It’s gone.”
His eyes moved to Melisande, then down to his boots before he met Jessica’s gaze again. “Could we speak in private?” he asked, the words even and not angry.
Jessica glanced over her shoulder at Melisande, hoping for a moment that her friend would tell her what to do. But Melisande only widened her eyes in question.
“I thought you’d left,” she said to Caleb instead of answering him.
“I had,” he responded, which told her nothing.
Jessica wanted to say no to his request, but if she sent him away, she would spend weeks wondering why he’d returned, and she’d only just started sleeping peacefully.
She couldn’t refuse him. She knew she couldn’t. “All right. We can sit a moment. In the parlor.”
He led his horse toward the front porch, but Jessica cut away to circle the house and enter through the back. She ran a damp towel over her face and hands, straightened her pinned hair. She wouldn’t see him with sweat dripping down her brow and her hair wild about her head. After the way she’d screamed at him like a madwoman, today she meant to be serene, or act it, at least.
Her heart wasn’t serene. Why is he here? it cried. She ordered it to be still and silent. Her orders meant nothing. Her heart shook as badly as her hands did as she drew a pitcher of water from the pump at the sink.
Why is he here?
She’d find out as soon as she gathered enough courage to walk to the front door.
Thank God she’d already paid the taxes. If he asked if there was any left over, she’d lie.
She carried the pitcher to the front room, but her steps slowed as she neared the door. She allowed herself one deep breath and then she reached for the latch. When she opened the door, he was there, and she nearly dropped the heavy pitcher at the sight of what he held. “What…what are those?” she stammered.
He looked down at the small bouquet of wildflowers in his hand like she’d confused him. “Flowers of some sort?” he asked, as if he didn’t know the answer himself.
She stepped back, shaking her head, slightly panicked by the pretty yellow and white blooms. “Why would you bring them?” Was he being cruel? Mocking her?
“I saw them in a meadow a few hours back. I thought you’d like them, so I tucked them into a saddlebag.”
“But why?”
He took a deep breath, his knuckles turning white against the bouquet. “I’ve come to apologize. To you. For everything.”
“Everything?” she breathed, wondering if that meant the worst, that he knew the whole of the awful truth.
“Jess…” He gestured toward her with the flowers, but when she cringed away, his shoulders slumped and he bent to leave the bouquet on the porch. “May I come in?”
She waved him through, stepping back so he wouldn’t get too close.
He stood awkwardly next to the two spindly chairs that made up her parlor furniture, not sitting until she’d poured two mugs of water and taken a seat herself. He’d paid to use her cunt, but he wouldn’t take a seat while she was standing.
Men were so damn useless.
