bite of her cake and carefully observing both of them.
Anna Mae felt more than saw Josiah’s posture stiffen. She would have liked to be the one to tell him that she was leaving. Not that it mattered, but she wanted him to know that it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help it that Bart had led her into the woods on a stormy night, or that her mule had chosen Josiah’s farm to take her to. Anna Mae hadn’t decided when or how she would tell him, but she had hoped to do so herself.
“So you’re thinking about leaving?”
She nodded. “I planned to tell you before I left.” She became aware of Emily Jane watching them with acute interest. “Because I wanted to thank you for all that you did for me when I was sick.”
Josiah looked to his sister-in-law. As if he’d silently asked her to leave, Emily Jane picked up her purse and said, “Well, I hate to eat and run, but I need to get back to the bakery and start tomorrow’s bread.”
She hugged Anna Mae and whispered in her ear, “Don’t make any rash decisions today.” Then she waved, leaving the two of them sitting silently.
* * *
Without Emily Jane’s presence, Josiah suddenly felt tongue-tied. How did one propose a marriage of convenience? He didn’t want Anna Mae leaving Granite. She seemed to sincerely care about his daughters and they needed a mother. Josiah knew deep down, though, that she’d never capture his heart the way Mary had. It was impossible that any woman would truly take her place. Because he felt so sure of this, Anna Mae would never be a true wife to him. However, for the girls’ sake, and to save Anna Mae’s reputation, he had to ask her to marry him. He might as well jump in with both feet. As casually as he could, he said, “You don’t have to leave, you know.”
She looked at him over her coffee cup. Clear brown eyes rimmed with pink puffiness regarded him curiously. He could tell she’d been crying earlier, and an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time swept through him. He wanted to take away all her pain and embarrassment.
Her sigh tore at him. “Yes, I do. I don’t want my friends feeling sorry for me, and I can’t face the shame of having to impose on them for my livelihood.”
Josiah knew that feeling. Maybe not for his means of support, but didn’t he have to impose on others to watch his children so he could work? It felt like the same thing. Maybe he could convince her that he knew the feeling, and that if she’d permit it he’d make certain neither of them would feel that way again. But even a small-town sheriff like himself knew this was a delicate situation and should be handled with care.
He reconsidered that tack. One wrong word or move and he could push her in the opposite direction. “Maybe you don’t have to impose on your friends for your livelihood.” He said the words tentatively, as if testing the idea.
“I know I don’t. And I won’t. That’s why I’m leaving. My room is paid here until the first of November. Emily Jane asked me not to make any rash decisions, so I suppose I’ll stay until then. Hopefully, by the first I will know where I’m going and what I must do when I get there. I’ll simply have to endure the gossip until I leave.” She set her cup on the table and squared her shoulders. Determination tightened her jawline.
He admired her fortitude. It would serve her well in the days ahead. But right now he didn’t need her stubborn and unwilling; he wanted to be her knight in shining armor and rescue her from distress. He breathed a plea heavenward. Lord, a little help here, please. Can You make her receptive and sensible?
Half in anticipation, half in dread, Josiah pushed his plate back and reached for her hands. “What I mean, sweet Annie, is that maybe we can help each other.”
Her fingers shook against his palm so he tightened his grip. “How?” Confusion laced her pretty features as she held his gaze.
“You could marry me,” he blurted, scarcely aware of his own voice.
Anna Mae snatched her hands back and shook her head. “What did you say?” She pushed stray tendrils of hair away from her cheek.
Josiah felt a curious, swooping pull inside him, surprising him to stillness. Why had he never noticed how incredibly beautiful Annie was? Her features were dainty, her wrists small and her waist curving and regal.
He forced himself to focus on the statement he’d just made. All right, it probably wasn’t the best proposal she’d ever heard. She must think him an insensitive clod. Josiah cleared his throat and tried again. “We could get married. I need someone to take care of the girls, and you wouldn’t have to find another job or leave.” To his annoyance he felt heat climb up his neck and into his face. His aggravation increased when he noticed his hands were shaking. What was wrong with him? This was how a man in love acted; and he certainly wasn’t in love. He made a gesture with his right hand. “This is not how I rehearsed this in my head on the way over here.”
She leaned closer and whispered, “You want to marry me so you’ll have a babysitter for the girls?”
He ran a hand behind his neck and rubbed. “Well, yes, but it would benefit you, too.”
Anna Mae crossed her arms over her chest once more. “Explain to me how that would work exactly?” At his puzzled look, she pressed on. “How marrying you and taking care of the girls will help me?”
“You wouldn’t have to leave your friends.”
She laughed bitterly and wagged the tip of her finger at him. “Believe it or not, I am capable of making new friends, Sheriff.”
He dropped his head and stared at the checkered tablecloth. “I’m sorry. This isn’t coming out right.” Josiah sighed heavily, and without looking up at her, he continued. “All I’m proposing is a marriage of convenience. It wouldn’t be a real marriage.” He lowered his voice as she had done. “I don’t expect us to share a bedroom, only the responsibilities of the children, the farm and the house.”
How could he explain to her that he only wanted to help? He’d been partially responsible for her job loss and the town thinking they’d been intimate. He just wanted to make up for that. Maybe this had been a bad idea. She was right. How would marrying him help her face the women in town who were probably gossiping over their luncheons right now? Still, he gave an impatient shrug. The idea had merit and he’d be foolish not to realize how much it would benefit him. Lord, if You’re of a mind to, I could use that help right about now.
Her soft hand covered his and he looked up quickly, so surprised his mouth dropped open. He merely stared, tongue-tied. Tears filled the beautiful milk-chocolate orbs regarding him with tenderness. Her voice, when she spoke, still held a touch of hoarseness. “I know you’re trying to help me, and what you said is right; the girls do need someone to take care of them. In a real sense, it’s a lovely suggestion. As my grandmother used to say, it would kill two birds with one stone.”
Josiah watched as she fought some inner battle before speaking again. What an honorable woman she was. Even in distress, she managed to consider the feelings of others. She was three times a lady compared to her accusers.
“I can’t give you my answer right now, Josiah, but I’ll pray about it.” She lifted her hand from his and stood up. She touched his shoulder briefly. “Thank you.”
She walked away with stiff dignity, the long skirt of her dress swaying gently. She paused just inside the door and looked back at him. For a moment she studied him intently and then she was gone.
She’d said thank you? What on earth did that mean? He hadn’t done anything that she had to be thankful for. Had she been referring to him nursing her while she was sick? For proposing marriage to her? What? He gritted his teeth and barely suppressed a groan of frustration.
If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand women. And why, Lord, didn’t You give me a more elegant way of speaking and expressing myself? One thing was for certain; Josiah hadn’t the foggiest idea what Anna Mae’s answer would be, nor when she’d tell him.