He sent a glare in his mother’s direction. “The best thing for Emma Jane right now is for everyone to stand beside her in my absence. You can support me, thereby supporting her, or...”
Or what? Jasper let out a long, frustrated sigh. His mother would do exactly as she pleased, which didn’t do anything to help Emma Jane. Leaving him trapped in the conundrum of dealing with Emma Jane’s hurt feelings or following his calling to rescue Daisy and bring the bandits to justice.
Why did doing the right thing have to put him in such a difficult position?
“It’s all right, son.” His father stepped forward, placing one hand on Jasper’s shoulder, the other on Emma Jane’s. “Your mother and I haven’t done all we could in easing your wife’s transition into our family.”
He gave Jasper a squeeze, then moved back and addressed Emma Jane. “I apologize if we haven’t been as welcoming as we could have been. Such a hasty marriage didn’t give any of us time to properly prepare, and that’s no excuse. I’ll do what I can to address any talk.”
Jasper couldn’t help but notice his mother still remained near the door, her back stiff and unyielding, her mouth pursed tightly. There would be an argument between his parents later, and yet again, Jasper was responsible.
Why did so much have to rest on his shoulders? So many things for him to be held accountable for, and yet the one thing that mattered most—saving the life of an innocent woman—seemed to be directly at odds with it all.
He heaved another sigh, then took Emma Jane’s hands in his, wishing her hands didn’t feel like ice, like they needed him for warmth. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I just want you to talk to me,” Emma Jane said quietly. Her shoulders rose and fell. “I know ours isn’t a love match. But I at least thought we could be friends. That we were friends. Instead, I find that you have shut me out completely.”
Her words weren’t supposed to sting. All of this was her fault. They were once friends, and they could be friends still, but she had to trap him into marriage. So why was he the one who felt bad?
“I’m not sure what to talk to you about.”
“You could have told me that you were leaving our wedding reception to help Will rescue Mary’s sister Rose from the bandits. Mary knew, so why didn’t you fill me in, as well? I understand you wanted to help them. Mary and Will are my friends, too. And now, trying to bring the rest of the gang to justice and find this Daisy person? Why can’t I help?”
A whole list of reasons, starting with the fact that the only people who knew for certain that Rose had run away, and not been kidnapped, were Will, Jasper and Rose’s family. Jasper had been asked not to apprise anyone of that fact.
Fortunately, there was one equally important reason. “These are dangerous people. The only reason Mary came along that night is because she followed me. She wasn’t supposed to be there. These men are the kind to shoot first, ask questions later. I won’t have you risking your life.”
Emma Jane gave him a mournful look. One that almost made him feel bad for excluding her. But she didn’t understand how dire the situation was.
“I just want you to let me in. To talk to me like we did before our marriage.”
Jasper wanted that, too. But it seemed like there was too much at stake to waste effort on social niceties. They’d had good conversation, sure, but conversation did nothing when it came to saving lives.
“There’s no time for that. The search party is leaving soon—with or without me. Once this business is settled, then we can talk.”
The Emma Jane he’d always known was a little mouse. But when she straightened her shoulders, Emma Jane looked like a tiger.
“I can help.”
With the ferocity in her eyes, Jasper almost believed her.
“Emma Jane, you’re just a...”
He wanted to say “woman,” but the truth was, his life had been saved by two women. He had no illusions about females being the weaker sex. But against these men, a person who didn’t know how to fight, to survive and to kill if needed—that person was dead. Emma Jane could do none of those things.
“A woman who happens to be friends with the women rescued from the brothel. Women who were privy to the bandits’ secrets. So do not condescend to me about what I can and cannot do.”
She stepped aside, including his parents in the conversation. “I have tried to do what has been asked of me. But I am tired of sitting and pretending that having insult upon insult heaped upon me does not bother me. I am Mrs. Jasper Jackson, for better or for worse. And as such, I will assist my husband in bringing these bandits to justice. And when that happens, I will walk through this town with my head held high, and not a soul will dare look down upon me.”
A few tense moments ticked by. Then, with a steely look far more threatening than even his mother’s fiercest glower, Emma Jane stared directly at his mother. “Including you, Mrs. Jackson.”
Everything in him wanted to applaud Emma Jane at her words. As far as Jasper knew, no one had stood up to his mother before. At least, not with that level of vigor.
But Emma Jane was not finished, because then she turned her attention on him. “You will let me help you. If you do not include me in your plans, I will do my part, anyway. Even if it means going to the sheriff directly.”
Jasper didn’t doubt her words. No, this ferocious spitfire, a woman with whom he was entirely unacquainted, meant business. Just as Mary had snuck out and followed him to the brothel that night, he knew Emma Jane would do the same—and more.
They’d barely gotten Mary and her sister Rose out alive that night. How much more danger would Emma Jane face? It seemed an impossible choice—include Emma Jane in a potentially dangerous mission, or risk having her go behind his back and get mixed up in something potentially more precarious?
“I need to go.” Jasper had prolonged his leaving long enough. Almost too long. He’d only meant to tell everyone of his plans, not have the impassioned discussion that ensued.
“Hopefully, this lead takes us to where the bandits are hiding. Then it will be over and all will be well. I just wanted a chance to say goodbye, you know, in case. If all goes well, I’ll be home by supper.”
Emma Jane stepped forward and gave him an awkward hug. “Stay safe.”
The rush of emotion in his chest came on harder than the force of the worst blizzard he’d endured. His wife’s hug was all warmth and completely unexpected after Emma Jane’s fervent speech about joining him.
“Promise me you won’t try to help me with this case while I’m gone. We can talk when I get back.”
He could see her hesitation as she shifted her weight and chewed on her lower lip. Those eyes looked at him in a way that made him believe that things would, in fact, be all right.
“I promise.”
He wasn’t supposed to care about Emma Jane Logan, er, Jackson. But he’d forgotten that underneath all that awkwardness lay a woman with deep compassion for others. If only she’d had compassion for the fact that he’d have liked to have chosen his own wife—a woman whom he actually loved.
In that, Jasper envied his friend, Will, falling head over heels for Mary. Their marriage would be a real marriage, full of happiness and love. What did Jasper have to look forward to?
Nights sitting by the fire and talking? That had been pleasant enough before he’d been forced to marry her. But what of the rest of their lives? And children? How were they supposed to have children when they didn’t share the kind of feelings