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Virgil shot a look toward the far end of town, then shifted his gaze uncertainly from the woman back to Jack.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder before he could protest again, or worse yet, blurt out something that would set off a scene. “You don’t mind seeing to our luggage while the lady and I take a little walk, do you?”
“No, of course not. But—”
“Good.” With a short nod, Jack turned back to Lanny’s self-proclaimed bride and swept his hand out in a gesture that was more challenge than good manners. “Shall we?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she drew her lower lip between her teeth and gave that odd-looking bonnet another tug forward.
Jack’s flash of irritation turned inward. There he went, taking his frustrations out on someone else.
Again.
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling wearier than he ever had in his twenty-nine years. He hadn’t had more than the odd thirty-minute nap here or there since he’d gotten that telegram.
And he still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do now that he was here. Just the thought of—
He shook his head, trying to focus on the current issue. That other business was his problem, not this woman’s. Given the circumstances, she deserved better treatment. “Look, ma’am, I—”
“Very well.” She spoke over his attempted apology as if he hadn’t opened his mouth. Her spine was rail-spike stiff, all signs of hesitation and uncertainty replaced by an air of determination. “Lead the way.”
It was Jack’s turn to hesitate. He could tell she was still a bit uneasy and admired her pluck, but maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Yes, taking her along would give them a bit of privacy, but it would also put him alone with her when he broke the news. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotional women. And he certainly wasn’t in any shape to deal with one today.
Then he shrugged. She had to be told, and his gut said she wouldn’t get all hysterical on him.
“This way.”
They started down the sidewalk, Jack matching his pace to her shorter stride.
They walked in silence. Jack kept his eyes focused straight ahead and refused to slow his step, halting any would-be greetings from the folks they passed with a short nod. He wasn’t ready to talk to his former friends and neighbors right now.
He had to get this over with first.
He carefully avoided looking at whatever was left of Nell and Jed’s café, but as they drew even with it he could smell the acrid odor of scorched wood and ashes that still lingered in the air, threatening to suffocate him.
Jack shot a quick glance at the blackened remains in spite of himself.
A definite mistake.
Loss and guilt slammed into him again, harder this time, like a fist in the gut. It was as if he’d tossed a stick of explosives into the building himself, leaving this grotesque skeleton of charred timbers and debris.
He scrubbed a hand along the right side of his face. Perhaps if he’d made plans to come home before now, to make amends. If he had been here when—
“Pardon me.”
His companion’s breathless words interrupted his thoughts. A quick glance her way revealed she was struggling to keep up.
He slowed immediately. “Sorry, ma’am. My mind was on something else.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the charred rubble, then back at him with dawning dismay. “That building, it was the café, wasn’t it?”
He felt that betraying muscle in his jaw twitch. “Yes.” And just how did she know that?
Unspoken questions tumbled across her face, a growing dread clouding her eyes. Apparently she knew of the café’s significance to him.
And to her as well, if she was who she said she was.
How did she know enough to read the situation from a burned-out building she’d never seen before? Had Lanny really married this woman, this apparent stranger to Sweetgum and everyone here?
Twice her mouth opened then closed again. For a change she seemed to have nothing to say. Instead, she gave him an assessing look, nodded and increased her pace.
He spared a moment to ponder over the puzzle this woman presented. In the short time he’d been in her company she’d proven herself to be more stubborn, outspoken and full of spit and vinegar than might be seemly for a female. Yet just now she’d seen no-telling-what in his expression and held back her questions. Not at all the reaction he’d expected.
The walk through town seemed endless. The closer they got to their destination, the tighter the tension inside him coiled. Everyday sounds like dogs barking and harnesses jangling seemed both magnified and distant. He felt eyes focused on them from every angle. It was as if the two of them were the main characters in some sort of stage play, only he’d forgotten all his lines and even which role he was assigned.
“Watch your step.” He automatically took her elbow as the sidewalk ended. As soon as they stepped down onto the well-packed dirt path, she withdrew her arm. But not before he felt the slight trembling of her muscles.
So, the lady wasn’t as composed as she wanted him to think. Was it because she’d already figured out what had happened?
Or because she still didn’t trust him?
The main section of town gave way almost immediately to greener expanses. Up ahead was Sweetgum’s schoolhouse. The church was just beyond, close enough that it was difficult to tell where the schoolyard ended and the churchyard began.
Both of these places had been a central part of his world, his life, at one time. But no more.
He’d outgrown the schoolroom at sixteen.
He’d outgrown the church a few years later, when he’d decided it was finally time to get away from Sweetgum and strike out on his own.
Jack shook off those memories as he led his companion across the schoolyard, past the church building and up to the white picket fence that marked the boundaries of the cemetery.
He paused and turned to her, removing his hat and raking a hand through his hair.
She stood there, rooted to the spot, her eyes wide, her gaze fixed on the neat rows of grassy mounds.
“Ma’am?”
She started, and her gaze flew to his.
Her pallor roused a protective response in him. She looked nearly as white as the ribbon on her bonnet. Jack could see the shock, the inner battle she was fighting between denial and a sickly acceptance.
Was he going to have to deal with a swooner after all?
“Steady now.” He took her elbow. “I’m sorry to break it to you like this. But I thought it was better to have a bit of privacy. I—”
She raised a hand. “No, I understand.” Her gaze slid back to the somberly peaceful green, and she swallowed audibly. “Was it the fire?”
He nodded.
“And your sister?”
Ah, Nell. His sweet, peacemaker of a sister. To die like that…
Not trusting himself to speak, he pulled the crumbled telegram from his pocket and handed it to her. He didn’t have to look at it again to know exactly what it said.
The words were burned into his memory.
Café fire. Nell, Jed, Lanny killed. Please return to Sweetgum earliest possible. Children need you.
Callie tasted the bile rising in her throat as she read the terse missive. These people were her newly acquired family, the people she had so eagerly looked forward to meeting and befriending. To learn that they had died under such horrific circumstances…
Everything seemed to go silent, to pull back from her. A heartbeat later her vision clouded over and the earth swayed under her feet.
“Whoa, there.”
Mr. Tyler’s hand was under her elbow, steadying her, lending her a measure of strength.
Sounds and objects came rushing back into focus, racing to keep pace with the emotions that careened through her like water rushing over a fall. Horror at the thought of their deaths, confusion over what this meant for her future, and a guilty relief that her husband had not deliberately shunned her after all.
She attempted to smile at her concerned brother-in-law. “Thank you. I’m okay now.”
He raised a brow. Probably worried she’d faint on him.
“Look, there’s a bench over yonder under that cottonwood.” He nodded his head in the direction of a tall leafy tree. Then he cleared his throat. “Why don’t we sit for a spell? It’ll be cooler in the shade and you can tell me the story of how you came to be married to my bother.”
Callie glanced toward the cemetery, then nodded. She could pay her respects to Leland after she and his brother had their talk.
Then she realized how selfish she was being. These people were his family, his siblings and the people he’d grown up with. “I’m sorry to have made this more difficult for you, Mr. Tyler,” she said softly. “And my condolences on your loss.”
He nodded silently, leading her across the grounds.
“When did it happen?” Callie was still trying to take it all in. “The fire, I mean.”
He released her arm as they reached the bench. “Four days ago.” Both his face and voice were controlled, giving no hint of whatever emotion he might be feeling.
Then it hit her. She plopped down onto the bench. Could it be?
She clasped her hands tightly and stared up at him. “Do you know what time?”
His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Pardon?”
“At what time did your brother die?” She heard the shrillness of her tone, saw his brow go up. No doubt he thought her hysterical. But right now she didn’t care.
He lifted a hand, palm up. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here. I only—”
“Do you have any idea?” she pressed. “Morning? Afternoon? Please, this is important.” Her heart beat with a dull thumping as she waited for his response. A few hours one way or the other could make all the difference in the world.
The thing was, she didn’t really know what answer she wanted to hear.
He scratched his chin. “Virgil did mention the café was nearly empty because it was after lunch…”
“I see.” She sagged back in her seat, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
Help me to see Your will in this, Father. Because right now, all I feel is confused and adrift.
“And just why does the time matter so much?” Jack asked, interrupting her silent prayer.
Callie dug in her handbag and pulled out a packet of papers. She stared at them for a moment, then held them out to him. “Because, as you’ll see if you look through these documents, your brother and I were married by proxy four days ago. At exactly ten o’clock in the morning.”
She gave him a humorless smile. “Which means, since the ceremony occurred before the fire, I am indeed a widow without ever having met my husband.”
Chapter Four
As he took the papers from her, Callie closed her eyes, trying to absorb the fact that she had become a widow without ever knowing what it meant to be a wife. Yes, it was true that Leland had meant this to be a marriage in name only, but she had secretly hoped that, given time…
Stop it! Callie gave herself a mental shake. She should be mourning the man, not the end of some foolish daydream.
More to the point was the fact that she no longer had a reason to be here.
Had she come all this way for nothing?
Heavenly Father, I thought this was Your answer to my prayers. But was I too impulsive yet again? Was this mere wishful thinking on my part rather than Your intent for me? Please, help me understand what it is You want me to do now.
The sound of rustling papers drew her attention back to her companion.
He leaned forward, pinning her with that intense gaze again.
Her skin prickled. Even though they were out in the open rather than closed up in a stagecoach, being alone with him suddenly felt much more dangerous than it had earlier.
“So tell me,” he asked, “how did this proxy marriage of yours come about?”
She bristled at his suspicious tone, forgetting her previous discomfort. Then she softened as guilt washed over her.
How could she sit here feeling sorry for herself while he dealt with such pain? He might seem gruff and overbearing, but how could she blame him? He’d lost his family less than a week ago, and now he was confronted with a sister-in-law he hadn’t realized existed until just a few moments ago.
At the very least he deserved an explanation, something to help him make sense of the situation.
No matter how humbling it might be for her to tell him the story.
“Your brother was in need of someone to help raise his daughter,” she said evenly. “And I wished to find a husband and household of my own. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
“As for why we did it by proxy…” She shrugged. “My family wouldn’t hear of my leaving Ohio without ironclad assurances that the wedding would actually take place, and this seemed the best solution.”
His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “Forgive my bluntness, ma’am, but why you? I mean, you just admitted the two of you never met. And, unless things around here have changed more than I realized, I’m sure Lanny could have found a local girl more than willing to marry him and help raise Annabeth.”
She gave the edge of her bonnet a little tug. He was treading on uncomfortable territory. “Your brother is—was—a good-hearted, God-fearing man. He was very open about the fact that he wasn’t looking for, nor could he offer, a love match.” She brushed at an imaginary speck on her skirt. “He loved Julia very much and was certain he would never feel the same about another woman. I understood and accepted that.”
Callie titled her chin up as she met her inquisitor’s gaze. “I think he found it easier to say those things in a letter, and to someone he hadn’t grown up with.”
