“But—”
“Help Jane pick up the dishes.” His hands fisted tightly at his sides, an effort at control.
Libby’s heart skidded in her chest. He didn’t understand. She tore her gaze from the sight of him, so strong and heart-drawing, framed by the threshold, and began stacking the huckleberry-juice-stained plates into the bottom of the basket.
“Pa’s got a temper,” Emma whispered. “But don’t go away because of that. Nobody’s perfect.”
She certainly wasn’t Libby closed her eyes. Awareness tingled down her spine. She turned around to find him watching her.
“Don’t get angry with Emma because of me,” she pleaded.
Tall and formidable, he said nothing, stepping into the room. “Say goodbye, Emma.”
He thought the worst of her. Libby slipped the last plate into the basket. The packing was done.
Emma obediently stood. “I know I already thanked you for making me the doll, but I really love her.”
All those hours spent late into the night pushing a threaded needle through muslin now felt like too little. “You take good care of Beth for me.”
“I will.” With sadness in her eyes, Emma ambled past her father, into the hallway and out of Libby’s sight.
Jane placed a hand on her arm. “I live in the little white house on the trail north out of town. I won’t be leaving for another few weeks yet. Remember me, if you need anything. Even someone to talk to.”
Jane’s kindness warmed her like nothing she’d known in so long. “Thank you,” she managed to reply.
Jacob waited until Jane closed the door before he turned to her, his gray eyes as harsh and as cold as a winter’s storm. “Just what game are you playing with my daughter?”
Chapter Five
The color drained from her face, her slender hands clenched rigidly at her sides. She looked ready to break apart.
“Jacob...” Elizabeth’s lower lip trembled. “I’m so sorry about the way this looks. I didn’t invite her, although I’m glad she came.”
“You had no right to keep her here.”
“You have no right to think I would use her.” Embarrassment might flicker in her eyes, but pride lifted her chin. “I promised you I would never hurt Emma, and I meant it.”
“Why was she here in your room?”
“Why do you think?” Her eyes filled. “She thinks she can still get us together.”
“She’s wrong.”
“I know that.”
Silence.
Jacob watched the fight slide from the rigid line of her shoulders. Fragile. She was so fine-boned, so small. He suspected most women were fragile, tenderhearted and easily hurt.
“Jacob, I’ve hurt her, haven’t I? By coming here, letting her think we would marry and I would be her mother.” Tears stood in her eyes. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.
His breath caught. “No, she understood all along this might not work out. I prepared her. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t end up with a broken heart.”
“She’s just a child. She doesn’t understand....”
Their gazes met. He saw anguish in her morning-sky gaze, remorse, and guilt. But her heart was there, too, pure and good.
She wasn’t a bad, deceitful woman. Deep down, he knew it. Jacob’s heart twisted in his chest. “Emma will be disappointed,” he said at last. “I will make sure she understands. She won’t show up here trying to matchmake again.”
It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault. He knew Emma had motives of her own and needed a talking to.
“Jane left the basket of food.” Elizabeth’s voice quavered as she turned away, her pink dress shivering around her slender form. “Here. You should take it home with you.”
The sight of her hands curling around the woven handle—red and rough from years of work—stabbed him with a sad knowledge. Life for her had been hard. She’d never said it, never hinted at it, but he sensed it now.
“No.” He said, too gruff. “Jane left it here, she meant for you to keep it.”
“The basket is mighty fine. And there are plates inside.”
“Then return the plates and basket. Keep the food.”
She stared hard at the basket. “So much good food. Thank you.”
More silence. They continued to stand there. Questions and the explanations he owed her knotted in his throat. He wanted to tell her why. He wanted to make her understand it had nothing to do with her. And everything to do with the fragile hold he had on survival.
Mary had been pretty and kind, gentle and honest. And those qualities hadn’t spared her from a painful, frightening death. He was fortunate Emma had been spared.
“Cedar Rock isn’t so small a town, I suppose we will probably see one another now and then.” She spoke softly, as if she trusted him enough with her confidences.
Jacob leaned closer. The scent of her rose water tickled his nose, made his stomach twist. Sunlight filtered through the window, casting gold shimmers in her light hair.
“Are you staying?” The idea neither frightened nor pleased him.
“I’ve let a room in Maude Baker’s boarding house. That’s not too far away from your livery stable.” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “I didn’t plan it that way. The man at the hotel’s desk said it was the only respectable place for women.”
“He told you correctly. Baker’s is the best place. I’m glad you’re there. It’s safe. Maude boards her gelding at my stable.”
“Then you’re not angry I’m staying in town?”
He wanted to be. “What I think doesn’t matter.” He watched regret shape her mouth. “You insisted on paying your passage here, so I have little to say.”
“I wanted to come.”
“Do you want to leave? I’m guessing you can’t afford your way home.” He felt like a jackass. At the time he hadn’t argued over the money. “I always intended to reimburse you for the journey.”
“I don’t want your money, Jacob.”
Just my name and my home. Bitterness soured his mouth, then shame. He knew those accusations weren’t true. Elizabeth could have lied to him. Chances were, he would have married her without knowledge of her pregnancy—and it would have forced him to relive fears and memories of Mary he couldn’t face.
“It isn’t right, you coming all this way for no reason after all.” Jacob tugged his billfold from his shirt pocket.
“I had every reason to come.” Shyly averting her eyes, Elizabeth brushed at her plain cotton skirts.
The truth hit him. She’d wanted to love him. She came because he’d unintentionally led her to believe... He couldn’t think about it. Angry at himself, Jacob counted out the crisp bills.
“Let me do this for you.” He looked up. “Please. You gave up your job and left your home to come here.”
“But I owe you money.”
“That can’t be right, Elizabeth.”
She withdrew a thin collection of bills and coins from her skirt pocket and pressed it into his shirt pocket “I won’t