Hearts Awakening (20 page)

“I don’t plan on falling,” she countered, grateful that the Grants had already finished picking their apples and had gone home so they would not be witness to the test of wills she and Jackson were having. Cotton gloves would have protected her hands, but apparently they were only worn when picking apples that were going to be shipped to markets well beyond the city.

“Maybe not, but if you back that argument up a bit, you’d have to admit you planned on cutting your finger—which I rather doubt you did, since you’d already damaged your hands enough for one day.”

“How gallant of you to mention how inept I am,” she retorted. Jackson had been up on a ladder just like this one when she had spoken to him about accepting his proposal, but she had not noticed, at the time, that the ladder was so oddly designed.

Instead of side rails set an equal distance from one another from the top to the bottom of the ladder, the rails narrowed from the bottom up, nearly forming a triangle, which would make it easier to fit the ladder into the branches of the tree. The rungs of the ladder, by necessity, narrowed as well, so that the top rung was barely wide enough for a man’s foot.

“We have enough apples for you to make the apple fritters tomorrow, and you were here during the picking. The tradition’s been kept,” he suggested as he started to close the gap between them.

“Unless I burn the first batch of fritters and need more apples than usual, in which case I need to pick a few more.”

He walked around her and stood in front of the ladder. “You’re not going to burn anything tomorrow.”

She cocked a brow. “Really? Why would you say that?”

He shrugged. “You cleaned out the inside of the cookstove today. End of problem. Even the stovepipe looked as clean as it did the day Caden James delivered it.”

“Which you know firsthand, because you simply waltzed in this afternoon and put it back in place like it was nothing at all, when it should have been very clear to you that I’d been struggling with that stovepipe for a good while,” she blurted as she faced him through the rungs of the ladder.

He shrugged. “I thought I was helping.”

“You were, but . . . never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

He folded his hands across his chest. “I won’t understand what you mean unless you tell me.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. She had no right to complain unless she was willing to explain why. “I appreciate the fact that you helped put the end of the stovepipe back into place, but I would have appreciated it more if you had said something to acknowledge that it was hard for me, because I’m not as tall or as strong as you are.”

“You’re nearly as tall as I am.”

She rolled her eyes. “See? I knew you wouldn’t—”

“I was teasing.” His voice was soft. “I’m sorry. I really thought I was just helping you. I didn’t mean to flaunt the fact that I’m stronger than you are or hurt your feelings.”

“Again. You hurt my feelings again.”

Jackson’s chin rose a fraction. “I thought you’d accepted my apology for what happened in the city.”

She shook her head. “I did. I wasn’t referring to that. I meant earlier today.”

“Today? When and how did I do that?” he asked, arching his back.

“You didn’t treat me very nicely. No, that’s not quite right. You didn’t treat me with respect when you disagreed with me about whether or not Ethan was talking to Daniel.”

“That wasn’t disrespect,” he countered. “I simply asked you to remember that these are my sons. I know them better than you do, because I’ve been a part of their lives since the day they were born.”

“No, you didn’t ask me to remember. You warned me to remember. There’s a difference, isn’t there?”

He let out a long sigh and lowered his arms. “Yes, there is, but—”

“But unless we respect each other enough to listen and learn from each other, like I thought we did the other night, the next eighteen years, which is how long it will be before Ethan reaches his majority, are going to be more than difficult. They’ll be impossible. And unless we can continue to be completely honest with each other and stop constantly suspecting one another of doing something wrong, the lessons we inadvertently teach Daniel and Ethan along the way are not lessons you or I should want to teach them.”

She paused and moistened her lips. “Daniel and Ethan are your sons. Yours and Rebecca’s. I’m not likely to forget that, but they’re my sons now, too, and Daniel and Ethan are the only children I’ll ever have the privilege to raise as . . . as my own.” Ellie waited, heartbeat after heartbeat, for him to reply and prayed he would not misinterpret her words or her motivation.

“You’re quite a bit bolder tonight than you even were the other night, which was a distinct change from how you’ve been for the past several weeks since we got married,” he finally offered, arching his back.

“That’s because I didn’t have my initials carved into that tree before tonight,” she said confidently, now that she truly had tangible proof she belonged here. In all truth, it was the cross carved into the tree that had given her the greater comfort that this is where the Lord wanted her to be. For the first time in many years, she tried to embrace His will and her faith fully. She prayed Jackson might one day do the same.

“And that’s what makes the difference,” he suggested.

“Yes it does.”

“Because . . .”

“Because now I know you won’t set me aside unless I do something so terribly wrong and hurtful that you’d be willing to sacrifice the magnificent tree that lured James Gladson to this island.”

He cocked a brow. “Sacrifice it? How?”

“By gouging the trunk of that tree so deeply that it would kill it or by cutting it down, which are the only ways you’d be able to remove my initials. And I know you won’t do either of those things, because James Gladson also taught you the importance of traditions like the ones you shared with me tonight.

“Family traditions,” she added before he stopped her from finishing her thoughts. “I’ve waited a very long time to share my faith and my life with a family of my own and with traditions that will help to keep the family strong. I would never do anything to jeopardize that, and they mean a great deal more to me than those legal documents we signed might indicate.”

He did not reply. He just stood there, staring at her, as if she had said things he could not or would not believe. Finally, he let out a long, slow breath.

“I still think you’re wrong about Daniel and Ethan.”

She cocked a brow.

“But . . . but I’m willing to consider your opinion, as long as you remember that my place is at the head of this family. I reserve the right to make decisions I feel are best for Daniel and Ethan, even if that doesn’t coincide with what you want.”

“Agreed,” she said without reservation and held out her hand. “Can we declare a truce now? A real truce?”

He took her hand, gently, and shook it. “Truce,” he murmured before his lips curled into a smile. “Now that that’s settled, I’d like to ask you to do something for me.”

She caught her breath and held it, ready to prove she had meant every word she had said.

“Don’t bother trying to salvage that brown gown you’ve worn since the first day you arrived. It’s drab and ugly. Burn it. Cut it up into rags. Do whatever you like, but please don’t wear it again; otherwise, people will think I can’t provide for you properly.”

She gasped. “Ugly?”

He grinned. “You wanted honesty. Or did you intend to reserve the privilege of being honest just for yourself?”

“No, but a bit of tact might be nice, as well,” she said. “Is there anything else that’s been bothering you?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

She narrowed her gaze. “No complaints about burnt food?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’ve gotten accustomed to the flavor.”

“Fine,” she said sweetly and lifted her skirts again. “I’d like to pick a few apples now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d hold the ladder to make sure it doesn’t slip while I’m on it.”

He sighed. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

“No. I mean yes, I’m sure,” she said.

“It’s that important to you?”

“Yes it is.”

“Go ahead, then,” he grumbled before taking hold of the rails to keep the ladder steady. “If you fall and break your neck, I’ll make sure you have good care while you lie in bed, paralyzed for the rest of your life,” he cautioned as she started up the ladder. “Of course, I’d have to start looking for another wife, since I’d need someone to help me take care of the boys.”

She paused halfway up and stopped to pick a few apples within easy reach. “You can’t be married to two women at the same time,” she warned, ignoring the pain from the splinter in her hand as she slipped the apples into her pouch.

“True, but I could have the marriage annulled.”

She glanced down and glared at him.

“Sorry. Don’t get all huffy. This is just conjecture.”

She huffed anyway and climbed up another rung. Stretching as hard as she could, she managed to reach a pair of apples but slipped when she tried to transfer both of them to the pouch at the same time. She managed to stay on the ladder, but the apples dropped right onto his head. “Oops. Sorry,” she said and climbed higher still.

“Oops?” he gritted, shaking his head. “Of course, if you were higher up on that ladder and fell, you’d hit the ground so hard you might not survive at all. Then I’d have to bury you right here on the island, which means I wouldn’t have to bother having our marriage annulled. I’d be a widower again and legally free to marry for the third time.”

“That’s odd. James Gladson was married three times,” she noted as she leaned to the side to reach half a dozen more apples she put into the pouch. “I suppose it might be just another tradition for you to follow if you had to marry again,” she said.

As she turned to right herself again before climbing back down, an apple popped out of her pouch.

To her horror, once again it landed right on top of his head.

Fortunately, she stifled her giggle before it escaped.

“No, thank you. I’m not that attached to traditions,” Jackson said, rubbing his head. “Having had two wives is more than enough for me, assuming I can survive living with the second one.”

Nineteen

The following afternoon, when Ellie remembered she needed to wear her ring tomorrow to services, she went to the shelf in the kitchen where she had stored it.

Ethan’s ribbons were still hanging there, but the ring was gone.

“That’s impossible! I put it right here, next to the ribbons I laundered and set to dry for Ethan,” she mumbled. Hoping the ring had somehow rolled or slid away, she looked behind every plate, every platter, every jug, and every pitcher on that shelf.

No ring.

Even though her finger was throbbing beneath the second bandage of the day, she checked the two shelves below just in case she had accidentally knocked the ring off the high shelf.

No ring.

Ellie dropped to her knees. She crawled back and forth across the kitchen floor, hoping the ring might have rolled free of the shelves.

Still no ring.

But she had leaned on her palm with that stubborn splinter once too often. Between the splinter and the slice on the tip of her finger, her hands smarted enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She blinked them away and sat back on her haunches, more confused than panicked. A wooden ring could slide or roll or fall, but it could not simply evaporate or get up and walk off on its own. Since she did not take the ring, someone else must have. The question was who that someone might be.

If Jackson had spied the ring lying on the shelf, he would likely have cautioned her to be more careful before returning it to her. But he hadn’t, and neither Daniel nor Ethan was tall enough to see the ring lying on that shelf. Since no one else had been in the house since yesterday, Ellie had no choice but to set blame for losing the ring squarely on her own shoulders.

She pursed her lips and glanced around the kitchen floor to see if it had fallen there, even though she had swept out the room twice today already and would have noticed the ring if she had swept it up. “Unless it got snagged on the broom!”

Her excitement was short-lived when she found the broom empty of all but a bit of dust. She set the broom down and thought back over the day. “It’s got to be here somewhere. I just haven’t found it yet.”

Impatient with her own carelessness, she tapped her foot. She had two good hours left to herself before she had to start supper for Jackson and the boys. She could use that time to search for the ring, which had to turn up sooner or later. Or she could use the time to do something she knew would be more productive, like hemming the overalls she had made for Daniel and Ethan.

She headed straight for her room and prayed the ring would turn up by the time Jackson returned. If not, given the understanding they had reached with each other last night, she would just be honest with him, explain why she did not have her ring, and pray he would understand.

As Ellie approached the door to her room, she tripped over one of the boys’ wooden blocks and frowned. “They must have missed this one.”