sure?”
Her ma’s troubled look mirrored the one from yesterday when Jane had finally stumbled home, the same one from this morning when Jane had announced she wasn’t attending church services.
“I’m positive.”
Jessica carried her dinner plate over. “With the amount of desserts the café requires, we’ll be so busy she won’t have time to spare a single thought for that snake Roy.”
The café owner, Mrs. Greene, had been stricken with a lingering illness this past January. Unable to continue running the café without assistance, she’d approached the twins with a job offer. Getting paid for doing something they enjoyed and excelled at made sense. Their afternoon hours were used to bake and decorate pies, cakes and cookies, which they delivered before the supper rush. The additional income helped with all sorts of things, from extra fabric and hair ribbons to replenishing their chicken flock and luxuries such as store-bought chocolates.
Alice’s lined face pinched. “I wish you could’ve been spared all this.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Jane rushed in. “Roy’s a relative newcomer to the area. No one was aware of his history.”
“He could’ve mentioned having a wife before he proposed.” Her twin rolled her eyes. “While I hate that you had to suffer public humiliation, I’m glad you didn’t wind up with him.”
Jane fell silent. Her sister had made her feelings plain from the moment of their engagement. While Jessica had been all for her getting over Tom, she hadn’t approved of Jane’s choice. That her instincts had been right didn’t help Jane’s flagging self-confidence and made her question herself. What was it about her that had prompted Roy to keep his past hidden? Was she not the type to inspire confidences? Trust?
“Speaking of being busy, I have a favor to ask.” Alice retrieved a second basket from the shelf. “As you are both aware, the Leighton farm is in a terrible state. Tom will have his hands full the coming weeks trying to clean it up and won’t have time to see to meals. I’ve baked some bread and gathered jars of apple butter, jam and vegetables. There’s a wheel of cheese, as well. Would you mind delivering it for me?”
Jane lent extra attention to drying the pot, tummy doing a somersault at the prospect of seeing Tom again. She’d made up her mind to steer clear. Resuming their friendship wasn’t sensible or safe.
“I’m meeting Lee for an afternoon ride in an hour. I’d be happy to accompany Jane over, though.”
Missing the glare Jane shot her twin, Alice patted her shoulder. “Thank you, dear. If I’m going to leave at dawn, I must finish this packing.”
When Jane had gathered her satchel and the journal she kept on hand—one never knew when inspiration might strike—she met Jessica at the wagon. Several crates lined the bed.
She plopped onto the high seat. “This is a bad idea.”
Jessica snapped the reins, and they rumbled out of the yard. “Look, it’s just a simple errand. We’ll drop off the supplies, stay long enough to be polite and then you can return home with the team. I’m meeting Lee in town, and it’s a nice day. I’ll walk home.”
“I guess.”
“I still can’t believe he came back. And with Charles’s daughter, no less. Where are her parents, do you think?”
“I didn’t ask.” Though she’d fretted over it since their run-in yesterday.
She’d mentally reviewed their encounter more than once, the distance of time and ebbing of her initial shock allowing her to recall his slightly haggard expression, the weariness that had clung to him. Whether it was due to their long journey or the events that had prompted him to leave Kansas, she couldn’t be sure.
When they rode onto Tom’s property fifteen minutes later, Jane experienced a surge of dismay. This was far worse than she’d imagined, too much for one man to tackle.
Jess let loose a low whistle. “Ma wasn’t exaggerating.”
On the porch, Tom hacked away at the profusion of vines.
Jess chose a shady spot in which to leave the horses. “Are you ready?”
Her younger sister—by four whole minutes—might not be a sensitive soul, but she understood how difficult seeing him again would be.
“We say hello. Drop off the food. And go.” Sounded straightforward. “I’m ready.”
They each grabbed a crate and waded through the path of trampled weeds to reach him. Grasshoppers jumped out of their way. A fat beetle crunched under Jane’s shoe.
Grimacing, she eyed the chimney and wondered what creatures had lodged inside.
Engrossed in his task, Tom hadn’t noticed their approach until they were almost upon him. His eyes widened. “Jane. Jessica.”
Brushing his shirtsleeve across his damp forehead, he rushed to take Jane’s crate and, setting it down, relieved Jessica of hers. He was out of breath and his blue-gray shirt clung to him in places. Caramel-hued trousers hung low on his lean hips, encasing solid, muscular legs that seemed to extend for miles.
He was healthy and virile and too handsome for her peace of mind.
“Welcome home, Tom.” As his hands were full, Jessica gave him a quick side hug. “I could hardly believe it when Jane told me she’d run into you. How have you been?”
“Not bad.” His answering smile slipped a bit when his gaze connected with Jane’s. Concern flickered.
“Ma thought you could use some supplies.” Jessica seemed oblivious to the undercurrent of tension as yesterday’s encounter hung between them.
“That was thoughtful of her. Thanks for bringing it by.”
“How’s Clara?” Jane said.
“Not impressed with her new home. Can’t say as I blame her.” Shifting his burden, he cocked his head. “Come on in and say hello, if you’d like. She’s supposed to be resting, but I’m certain she’s playing with her doll instead.”
He was right. Wearing the same pink dress that she’d had on yesterday, she danced a worn corn husk doll across the kitchen table’s grimy surface. She stopped what she was doing to stare openmouthed at the women. The reaction wasn’t an unusual one. Children—and sometimes even adults—rarely encountered identical twins, much less redheaded ones.
“Clara, say hello to Miss Jane and Miss Jessica.” Sidestepping the bedrolls laid out on the floor, where they’d obviously slept instead of on the musty beds, he deposited the foodstuffs on the table. Red slashed his cheekbones. “Sorry about the mess.”
Jane couldn’t halt the sympathy welling up on his behalf. He’d always been a tidy person, had kept his barbershop and tools of the trade as clean as a whistle. Of course the cabin would cause him embarrassment. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. The mantel sported an inch-thick coating of dust. And while the floor had recently seen a broom, it would benefit from a good scrubbing.
In its current condition, his family home wasn’t fit for a child. Tom, either.
How would he manage with his niece underfoot?
Not my problem. She tried to harden her heart. I can’t afford to care. Can’t fall into that dark, desperate place again.
Clara came up to Jane and touched her wrist. “Princess.”
She shot Tom an incredulous look. “How can she tell us apart?”
“I don’t know.” He scraped a hand along his unshaven jaw.
“We do tend to wear our hair differently,” Jessica mused, finger combing her long ponytail. While Jess didn’t give much thought to her hairstyle, Jane tended to wear hers up in twists or tidy buns.