Reclaiming His Past (19 page)

Removing his hat, he hooked it on the chair back. “Pleased to meet you, Clara.”

Turning her attention to her plate, she picked at her food. Jessica tugged her own hat off and smoothed her hair. “We ran into Tom in town. He told us everything. I'm going to stay here while you go to Jane, Ma.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm going to stay with them.” Grant helped himself to the coffee on the stove. “Want some?” he asked Jessica.

She shook her head. “You don't have to stay.”

“I want to.”

“My aunt's expecting you.”

Alice abandoned her half-eaten meal. “I can swing by Mary's and tell them what's happening. That way they won't worry. Besides, Jane and the baby need all the prayers they can get.”

“They have ours,” Grant said.

Gratitude shone on Jessica's face.

She may not like to admit it, but she needed support. And he was the only one around right now to give it to her. After all she'd done for him, keeping her and the child company was the least he could do.

Chapter Twenty

A
tear trickled down Clara's cheek. “Is Mama going to be all right?”

Jessica knelt beside her chair. “God's watching over her and the baby. Did you know He loves your mama more than we do?”

Her wispy brows crinkling, she shook her head.

“He does. And He has a plan for each and every one of us.”

Grant sat opposite Clara, and his expression turned thoughtful. Jessica somehow knew he was reflecting on his own life and wondering what God's plan was for him. If God hadn't led him to her door, how would that have affected her? Would she still be mired in her old mistakes?

“I'm glad my plan is here. Papa—I mean Uncle Tom, not my other pa—was sad in Kansas. Now he's happy. He smiles and laughs every day. Sometimes he sings, but he sounds like a sick cow.” She scrunched up her nose.

Jessica smiled. Tom and Jane had let Clara choose what she'd like to call them. In the beginning, she'd stuck with Jane and Uncle Tom. And now more and more she referred to them as her parents.

“I don't believe I've heard him sing,” Jessica said.

“You don't want to.”

His head bent over his plate, Grant choked out a laugh.

“I wonder if the baby will like his singing.” Clara's tiny mouth puckered.

Jessica exchanged a wary look with Grant. He put his fork down. “I have an idea. How would you like to search for treasure?”

“Treasure?”

“Sure. With all the creeks and streams running through these mountains, you never know what you might find. There could be gold.”

“Truly?”

“Or silver.”

Clara's eyes grew round.

Gaining his feet, he started opening cabinet doors and peeking in the pie safe.

“What are you doing?” Legs cramping, Jessica straightened to her full height.

“Looking for this.” With a triumphant grin, he waved a metal colander in the air. He then snagged a shallow pie pan. “Here, hold these.” He thrust them at her. Retrieving a stack of clean towels, he covered the leftover food. “We can deal with this mess later. Let's go.”

As the three of them marched across the yard and into the forest, Jessica marveled at his gift of distraction. He'd done it with her on the trip from town. His charm in full-on mode, he was chatting up her niece as if they were long-term friends. For certain Clara was no longer dwelling on Jane and her ordeal.

His knowledge of the plants and insects they encountered astounded her. How did he know these things? Livery work wouldn't satisfy him for long. Not with his keen intelligence and appreciation for nature. In the great outdoors, he was in his element. She fancied him as some sort of government explorer, like Meriwether Lewis or William Clark. Or a journalist set with the task of reporting on the West.

Jessica perched on a rock and observed the pair. Hunkered side by side in the water, unheeding of the water seeping into their shoes, they scooped handfuls of pebbles and silt and dumped them in the colander.

“Oh! Look at this one,” Clara exclaimed, lifting a tiny rock for Grant to see. “It has gold flecks.”

He smiled warmly at her. “I'm not sure that's real gold, but it's very pretty.”

“Can I keep it?”

“I don't see why not.”

Jessica's heart melted like warm chocolate. He would make a wonderful father someday. Caleb's earlier accusation spoiled her contentment. She stared at Grant's profile. What if he already had a child?

A stiff breeze barreled through the understory, rattling fallen leaves, the treetops gently swaying. She shuddered. Grant shrugged out of his new lightweight jacket and, splashing through the shallow water, approached her and draped it about her shoulders. His residual body heat chased away the chill. She inhaled his distinctive scent clinging to the material.

As he tugged the lapels close, she looked into his face. “Won't you be cold?”

“Nah.” He grinned, spun on his heel and returned to Clara's side.

The sweet gesture made her heart sing.

Unbidden, a memory of Lee resurfaced. They'd been on one of their many picnics. A fly had landed on her pie and, revolted, she'd pushed it away. Lee continued to eat his portion without offering her a single bite, then proceeded to eat hers, commenting on her weak constitution.
It won't kill you
, he'd said.

Grant was the type of man who'd share his pie. He was the type of man who'd give her his coat without thought to his own discomfort. He was the type of man who'd treat her with respect and not do anything to tarnish her reputation.

In Grant's embrace, Jessica had felt utterly safe. She'd known, deep in her soul, that he would never press her to do anything inappropriate. There was a line he wouldn't cross. Grant Parker was a gentleman who lived by a code of honor.

Lee hadn't been as careful. Around him, she'd had to keep up her guard, not entirely certain that her virtue was his top priority. And while she'd enjoyed his displays of affection, they hadn't moved her to an emotional place like Grant's.

Touching her cool fingers to her lips, she recalled Grant's tenderness, the slight tremor in his hands as he'd cupped her face. And shocked herself by wishing his was the only kiss she'd ever experienced.

This isn't love
, she reassured herself.
It's friendship and affection. Yes, looking at him is like looking at a spectacular autumn sunset. Being near him brings the same satisfaction as a perfectly crafted confection. And despite all the unknowns, I'd trust him with my life. But that's not love, necessarily.

She'd loved Lee, and her feelings for him were different than what she was experiencing now.

“I have to talk to Jane,” she whispered. She'd know what Jessica's feelings meant.

“Did you say something?” Grant tipped the brim of his hat up.

“Nothing important.” Cheeks burning, she was grateful he couldn't read her thoughts.

Her peace of mind would have to wait. Jane had a baby to bring into this world. A brand-new life to nurture and care for.

Hunkering into his jacket, Jessica prayed for Jane, Tom and the baby. She prayed for Grant, as well.
God, for so long, I've demanded answers from You. I needed to know why You allowed certain things to happen. But I made a choice to place my future in Lee's hands without seeking Your will first. Because he attended Sunday services faithfully, I assumed he followed Christ's teachings in his daily life. I ignored my family's warnings. I didn't seek Your guidance, stubbornly pursuing my wants and desires. And yet, in all my stubbornness, You protected me. You kept me safe. I don't need answers anymore. But Grant does. He won't ever experience true peace until he finds out who and what he used to be. He can't move forward without the truth. Please help him.

Clara yawned widely. Grant noticed and tilted his head back to study the sky. “We're going to have to continue our treasure hunt another time.”

Her lower lip protruded. “But I haven't found any gold.”

He locked gazes with Jessica. “This stream isn't going anywhere, and your aunt and I have dishes to wash. Not only that, but I bet Sadie is impatient to be milked.” Cocking his head, he studied Clara. “Are you a good drawer?”

She nodded.

“Why don't you draw a picture for your ma and pa while we tend chores?”

Rolling a pebble between her first finger and thumb, she considered his suggestion. “I could draw a picture of the woods and the stream.”

“That's a fine idea.”

With that settled, they gathered their things and began the trek home. Jessica tried to return his jacket, but he wouldn't hear of it. He hurried to do the milking while she took Clara inside and located paper and pencils for her. She'd gotten the leftovers into the icebox and was grating soap into the water basin when Grant brought in the milk and, after complimenting Clara's progress, joined Jessica at the counter to dry and put up the dishes.

At half past nine, it was clear her niece was ready for bed. Jessica located an old chemise for her to wear. Washing away the grime from the child's face and gingerly combing the tangles from her curls, she put her in Jane's bed.

“Are you going to read me a story?” Her lids drooped as another yawn overtook her.

Jessica tucked the blankets around her small form and sat on the edge of the bed. “Not tonight. You're tuckered out, as am I.”

Clara's gaze shifted beyond Jessica's shoulder. “Do you like my picture?”

Angling slightly, Jessica saw Grant propped against the door frame. Having him here tonight had been a blessing. He'd kept them both too busy to dwell on what was happening just across town.

“I do,” he said. “I'm sure your ma will like it.”

“Can we pray for the baby?” she asked Jessica.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Clara held out a hand to Grant. “Are you going to pray, too?”

Entering the room, he stopped directly behind Jessica. Clara's pudgy hand looked tiny in his large, tanned one. His heat radiated outward, warming her back like the gentle sweep of sunlight on a brisk day.

“You and Auntie have to hold hands, too.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. Prickles of awareness fanned across her exposed nape.

“I don't think that's possible from where I'm standing.”

Clara considered this. “You can put your hand on her shoulder.” She patted her own to show him. “That's what my pa does to Mama.”

He was quiet a minute. Then Jessica felt his fingers settle on the curve between her neck and shoulder. She held her breath. His touch was firm and familiar. Beneath her ponytail, his thumb scraped over the top of her spine. Fireworks went off in her midsection, a not unpleasant feeling.

As they took turns asking God to protect and watch over their loved ones, Jessica experienced a strange longing.
So this is what it feels like to have a family of one's own. Working together toward a mutual goal, supporting each other, loving each other.

What you feel for Grant isn't love, remember?

Afterward, Grant led the way to the living room. Too aware of him in the quiet house, she kept the sofa between them. “Please give my aunt my regards.”

Shooting her a knowing look, he lifted his hat from its peg. “I'm not leaving, Jess.”

“We'll be fine.”

“I don't feel right leaving you. I will be sleeping in the hayloft, though. Do you have old bedding you can spare?”

She waved a hand over the furniture. “If you're determined to stay, you're welcome to the sofa. It's not like we're alone here.”

“I don't want to give anyone an opportunity to cast doubt on your reputation.”

His response was so different than what Lee's would've been. He would've jumped at the chance. Not only had Lee sought his own comfort, he would've grasped the excuse to be close to her without other adults around.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For keeping us company tonight.” For being you.

“I'd do just about anything for you, Jessica.”

Unable to endure the emotions shimmering in his blue eyes, she looked away. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to care this much.

He wasn't sticking around. She was afraid to consider how much it would hurt when he left.

* * *

Jessica balanced the miniature bundle along her forearm. “She's perfect in every way.” Testing the downy silkiness of her new niece's thin cap of dark hair, she smiled. “I'm smitten.”

From his spot on the sofa, Tom placed a finger on the storybook's page to hold his place. “We would never have guessed. You've only visited every day this week.”

“Can you blame me?”

Tom and Jane shared an amused glance. Clara tapped his chin and asked for him to continue the story. Seated in the rocking chair Tom had surprised her with a day or so ago, Jane appeared content to relax and watch her family. She'd had a normal delivery and was basking in the happiness of motherhood. Family and friends had inundated the couple with meals, baked goods and homemade gifts for the baby.

“You've been here more often than Ma,” Jane remarked good-naturedly.

Jessica had been walking the baby around the cabin. She stopped beside Jane's chair. Joy's lids fluttered. Her tiny body squirmed. Gently swaying, Jessica patted her back through the blankets, and she settled into sleep once more.

“Fine. I won't come tomorrow.” She studied the dainty mouth, the fine outline of eyebrows. “Maybe.”

Jane's gaze turned serious. Pitching her voice low, she said, “Is there another reason you're wanting to get out of the house?”

Her stomach dipped. “No.”

“You're lying.”

Jessica rolled her eyes.

“You forget I know the signs. Your voice does this funny dip when you're not being truthful.” She waggled her finger. “Why hasn't Grant come to visit? I wanted to thank him for helping with Clara.”

“He's been working during the day. Not sure what he does with his evenings.”

“She's talked almost nonstop about their treasure hunt. I think she fancies him. I think she's not the only one.”

“Maybe more than fancy,” she confessed on a whim.

Worry clouded Jane's eyes. Folding her arms across her chest, she audibly exhaled. “Do you trust him?”

She stopped swaying at the unexpected question. “Yes.”

“And you believe him to be worthy of your feelings?”

“I do.”

“Does he have feelings for you?”

“If he does, he hasn't voiced them.”

One kiss didn't amount to love. But he liked her. She knew he did. Whether or not it was more, she couldn't be certain.

A frown hovered about Jane's mouth. “Then I pray nothing from his past causes you pain or regret.”