The Stepmother: An Everland Ever After Tale (8 page)

Jack’s laughter—even if it
was
in response to his daughter’s giggles—was heartwarming. She loved the way the snow caught in his beard, the way he didn’t wipe it away after Zelle threw it at him. She loved the flutters in her stomach when he tossed the little girl into the air, and caught her. She loved his crooked smile that showed off his chipped lower tooth.

And she loved how, when she lost her balance once and fell against him and took them both down into the cold embrace of the snow, he cushioned her fall with his own, warm body. And that surprised her; not that he caught her, but that her heart climbed up her throat and she found herself straining towards him, towards his touch. He’d kissed her yesterday, and…taking a breath deep enough to press her breasts against his chest, she admitted the truth. He’d kissed her, and it had been nothing like Bernard’s kisses. Jack Carpenter was strong and primal and uncivilized, and to her complete surprised she
liked
his touch, his kiss.

Wanted to experience it again.

But there in the snow, he’d just smiled that broken-tooth smile, joked about her clumsiness, and lifted her back to her feet, while his daughter squealed in happiness. And Meri had laughed, too. He’d kissed her once; he’d kiss her again, she was sure of it.

Later, when they’d all stomped back into the house to warm rosy noses and fingers on mugs of hot coffee, and change into dry clothing, she cuddled with the little girl on Jack’s chair, and realized that she wanted the best for Zelle, in everything. Wanted her to have a beautiful childhood, and grow up to be a loved and loving young woman. And it wasn’t just because of her background in caring for children; no, Meri knew that this child was special.

Sometime over the last few days, while she was caring for her and playing with her and making her laugh, Meri had fallen in love with Zelle. She nuzzled into the little girl’s sweet-smelling hair, and felt Zelle’s breathing slow as she slept after her big afternoon. She loved Zelle, and wanted to watch her grow up. Wanted to braid this impossibly light hair, and teach her to make more than just biscuits, and help keep her safe.

Looking up, she caught Jack staring at them from his place at the kitchen table, where he sat with
Oliver Twist
open in front of him. The look in his eyes was…
haunted
, somehow. Like seeing the two of them together made him sad. Her heart softened even further when she realized that he had to be thinking of his dead wife, of how she’d looked holding Zelle.

“She must’ve been very pretty.”

He blinked, and then those dark slashes of his brows drew down in confusion. “Who?”

“Your wife.” Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly look warier? She rested her cheek against the sweet little head near her shoulder and regarded him. “Zelle doesn’t look much like you, so I’m assuming she takes after your wife. All this blonde hair. She must have been lovely.”

He looked away, and didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, finally: “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I’m sorry that you had to lose her, but I’m glad that I was able to come here and meet you.”
Glad that I could hold your daughter, glad that I could fall in love with her. I know I’m not your wife, I know you didn’t want a wife, but thank you.
“Thank you for these days with Zelle.”

He grunted, still pretending great interest in the stove. She hesitated, seeing that he wasn’t open to talking about his wife, but wondering if he’d tell her more about his daughter. “’Zelle’ is such an interesting name. Is it short for something? Where does it come from?”

And that’s when he turned with the blankest expression she could imagine. It was the same look he’d given her yesterday in the store, when that strange old woman—Gertie?—had told them that the town already considered the two of them to be married. It was an expression that told her he wasn’t seeing her, wasn’t seeing anything. There was nothing behind those eyes; no feeling, no reaction. He looked empty, and seeing him looking at
her
like that made her feel empty too.

He stood up, suddenly, slamming the book closed on the paper he used as a marker. “I’m going to sleep.”

He stomped past her, as she struggled to climb out of the chair with Zelle, and closed the door of his bedroom behind him. He was sleeping in his own room again, as was proper. But why did the realization make Meri feel colder, lonelier, than it should? After seeing the blank way he’d looked at her, even having his daughter snuggled up in her arms did nothing to warm her.

Later, after she’d turned down the lamp and stoked the fire and pulled off her shoes to curl up on her pallet with Zelle, she thought about him. About the way she’d first seen his strength and his dangerousness and his lack of civilized veneer, but the longer she knew him, the more she realized how skittish and humble and…and
real
he was. He was a self-taught man, and even if he’d never been to medical school, she respected that. More, he respected
her
, and her desires and abilities. She wanted to help people, and even if he wasn’t as devoted to that dream as she’d hoped he might be, he still helped others. And helped her help others.

That was special. And that was the entire reason she’d come all the way out here. She’d wanted a husband—a civilized husband—who would respect her and her abilities. Jack hadn’t mentioned a single thing about actually marrying her—they hadn’t talked about their future at all—but after that kiss yesterday, and the way she’d caught him looking at her while they played in the snow today, she knew that he wasn’t completely averse to it. He couldn’t be, could he? Maybe, once he saw how devoted she was to his daughter, how helpful she could be to him and this community, he’d marry her for real.

But she’d seen the way he clammed up when she mentioned his wife, or asked about his past. It was one thing to hope that he might agree to marry her after all…but did she want a husband with secrets?

To Jack’s surprise, a month passed, and then another. He didn’t kiss her again, but it was a struggle, every day. Meri had made herself at home in his home, and now…well, now he couldn’t imagine daily life without her there, fixing breakfast, making Zelle laugh with her silly songs, or teaching him how to tackle new tasks. Osbourne had been patient with him while he was learning to read, all those years ago, but Meri…he was learning things from her that his crotchety old mentor couldn’t have imagined.

One day he came back in from chopping wood—about the only thing he was good at, besides setting bones and simple fixes—to find Zelle standing on the table, giggling, while Meri measured her. Turned out that she was fixing to make a new dress for his princess, and when she saw how interested Jack was, she showed him what to do. He even helped piece it together, and she praised his stitching. It probably had something to do with all the practice he’d had on men’s flesh, but he didn’t bring that up.

Yeah, he was learning from her, alright, but it was more than that; she wasn’t just his teacher, she was…she was his friend. She was family now, somehow. Those were her curtains that she’d put up in March, and her books sat beside his on the shelf, and once Zelle had gotten used to her, he let the ladies take the bedroom, so those were her dresses on the hooks in there. And those were Zelle’s new mittens and his new scarf—things Meri had knitted—hanging by the front door. And it was
her
skills at the stove that made mealtimes his favorite parts of the day. And her scent that made him dread lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking about her in the next room.

They’d settled into a comfortable routine, but he wasn’t at all comfortable with it. He shouldn’t have kissed her, that day in Everland. This torture would be easier to bear, if he didn’t already know how she tasted, how she felt pressed against him. He’d known that she was everything he’d longed for, during nine years’ worth of cold nights in his cell…but it had been a mistake to confirm it.

For two months, he’d had to see her warm smile and her cheerful tone, and sometimes—Lord help him—sometimes, her touch. She’d brush dirt or flour from his cheek, or place her hand on his arm, or once, grab his hand in excitement. And then there was the time when he’d stood too close behind her, watching her add spices—spices she’d chosen at Matthews’ Dry Goods—to a stew, and he remembered the way she felt in his arms. He’d fought the almost-overwhelming urge to press himself against her back, letting her feel how much he wanted her… But then, she’d leaned back against him, and in one moment his dream and nightmare had come true. He’d groaned, to feel her in his arms again, and she’d sort of whimpered, and he was out the front door to stand in the snow before she’d turned around to confront him.

That had been bad enough, but when she’d offered to cut his hair for him, and he’d had to sit there on the bench outside the cabin with her feather-light touches caressing his ears and neck? Even worse. He’d held as still as possible while she used her sewing scissors to carefully straighten his shaggy hair cut—he’d done it with the kitchen knife, the same way he’d done Zelle’s before Meri started braiding the girl’s locks—and tried to ignore her warmth. It had been hard, especially when her fingers skimmed across his skin, or when she dug them into his scalp in a sort of unconscious massage. It had taken everything he had not to groan and lean into her touch. It was a damn good thing that they weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore, that’s all he could think at that moment.

He’d long ago stopped caring who set up that fake advertisement. They’d talked about it at length, a few evenings, and had finally decided that they’d probably never know. Did it matter? Someone had done him a favor, or had tried to, at least. Meri was a favor, alright. She made everything…
merry
. She made everything in his life better.

It was too bad that this life wasn’t going to last.

He’d always known that he was in Everland just for the winter. Witcher’s long arms would find him—would find Zelle—even out here. It was a nice place, and one that he wouldn’t mind staying in. But now that spring was beginning to rear its head, he needed to be moving on. He needed to take his princess even further into the wilderness, to protect her.

He knew this. He did. It was the only way to keep Zelle safe. So why was he delaying? The ground had already thawed enough that Meri and his princess were out back, churning over the ground for a garden. She was making plans for the future, planning on being here long-term. But they weren’t married, and he
wasn’t
staying.

Maybe his mood had gotten worse over the last few weeks, as the weather warmed, because he knew what was coming. Meri had stopped teasing him, stopped trying to make him smile, unless he started the conversation. Instead, she’d poured all of her attention—her affection—on Zelle, and his princess reveled in it.

Jack rested his shoulders and one booted foot against the cabin logs crossing the back of the house, and watched the two ladies digging in the dirt. Meri was bent at the waist, obviously trying to keep her dress clean, but Zelle had no such inhibitions. His princess was sitting barefoot in what once might’ve been dirt, but was now mud. He smiled, to see how happily she dug and tossed the mud, just like she’d done in the snow back in February. Meri had taught her how to have
fun
, something he’d had no idea how to do.

Letting his head fall back against the sturdy walls of the house he’d called home for the last few months, his eyes drifted past the garden and his two messy ladies. The view here stretched all the way to the mountains in the distance, and there was a stand of scraggly trees leading down to the stream. Lake Enchantment was to the right in the distance, with Everland behind him. Yeah, whatever homesteader built this place to begin with—the one who’d died and left it empty—had picked a good spot. And Jack had enjoyed his months here. His months of ease, of happiness.

“Mewee! Make man!” His princess was trying to push the dirt—mud?—into piles, the way Meri had shown them to do with the snow. It wasn’t working.

She laughed, and he felt himself clench at the sound. “No, honeybear, mud isn’t snow. You can’t build mud-men!”

“Yes! Yes
yes
! Mud man!” She clapped her two handfuls together, and when the mud splattered all over, she paused and then burst into laughter. After a moment of shock, Meri joined the little girl in laughing, and Jack knew that they’d have their work cut out for them, trying to bathe Zelle and her dress. Should’ve just let her play naked, but it was still too cold for that.

“Oh, Zelle, honey. What a mess!”

“Mess. Yes, mess man! Uh-oh!”

Meri’s laughter was contagious, and helped lighten Jack’s mood. When he chuckled, Meri whirled to see him watching them, and her face broke into a smile that tightened his trousers along with his chest. “Your Papa will have to help clean you up tonight, Zelle.”

“Hi Papa!”

“Hi, Princess.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, and strolled over to the garden, feeling more at ease than he had in a long while. “You’re trying to make mud men, I take it?”

“Mewee say no.”

“She’s right. Mud doesn’t work like snow.”

“Wike snow! Wike mud!”

He chuckled. Obviously she did like the mud, and again, he owed his thanks to Meri for showing her how to enjoy simple things in life. Things he’d never enjoyed as a kid.

“Snowmen
are
fun, honeybear.” Meri leaned down and tried to wipe the mud off Zelle’s face with her handkerchief, but the little girl squirmed out of the way. “Next winter, when we get more snow, I’ll show you how to make bigger snowmen. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Yes, snow! Yes, man!”

But this time, Meri’s laughter didn’t make him feel lighter. Her words—her assumption that they’d all be here next winter—opened up a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Remembering why he’d come outside in the first place, he cleared his throat. “I’m heading into town. You need anything?”

She eyed him, as if wondering at the sudden return of his bad mood, and then shrugged. “My list in on the counter.”

So he went and got it and stomped his way into town, and didn’t look back once, knowing that he was leaving both halves of his heart there playing in the dirt behind the cabin.

Maybe Mr. Matthews couldn’t tell he was in a crummy mood, because the man kept up a running one-sided conversation while he packed up Jack’s purchases. His wife’s time was getting close, and he was glad to have a Meri around to help. In fact, Jack had heard from more than one person during his forays into town over the last two months that people were glad that she was here to help them. He’d gone to his share of emergencies and wounds, and treated people as best as he could, but she…she had a way of caring, and making people feel
cared about
, that he couldn’t match. She was a good doctor, and Everland was lucky to have her.

Maybe she’d stay, once he and Zelle moved on. She could take over the little cabin, and the garden and the books, and make a future here. It’d be for the best. They’d never discussed why she’d left Philadelphia and didn’t want to return—if they discussed
her
past, he was afraid they’d have to discuss his—but it was obvious that she was happy here. Happy with these people, happy in the little cabin. Maybe she’d be happy after he left, too.

“Did that stranger ever find you?”

Matthews’ casual question started Jack’s heart hammering in his chest. “What?” he managed to choke out.

The store owner didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “I got the deliveries in from Fort Bridger earlier this week, an’ Tom mentioned that someone’s been asking after a man with a blonde daughter ‘round these parts. Said he had a big ol’ scar across one eye.” He wrapped up the jam in a burlap scrap and placed it with the other foods. “Of course, Old Tom knows you, from last November when you pulled those two teeth of his, remember?” He didn’t look up, to see if Jack
did
remember, but yeah. Yeah, Jack remembered the talkative old man, and knew what Mr. Matthews’ words meant. “So he told this stranger about you, and mentioned that he figgered he’d be moseyin’ towards Everland any day now. We figgered he must need some kinda medical attention.”

His throat dry, his pulse pounding in his ears, Jack might’ve managed to convey that he hadn’t met any strangers, but that he was in a hurry to get home. The store owner finished wrapping up his purchases, and Jack dug the cash from his pocket with a kind of quiet desperation. He needed to get home. He needed to make sure Zelle was safe. He needed to get out of here.

Witcher was coming.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Meri was getting desperate. Two months. Two months of living with him, of laughing with him at Zelle’s learning, of cooking with him and teaching him…of being his partner. Two months of realizing that this life was what she wanted;
he
was what she wanted. Two months of falling in love with him, despite his reluctance to talk about his past or his future. She’d fallen in love with his
present
, with the way he treated his daughter and her, with his humility and his primal grace. She’d fallen in love with
him
, despite his secrets.

She had secrets too. And one of those secrets was that she’d been desperate for another kiss from him. Two months! Two months of
remembering
the way it felt to be cradled against him, to breathe the same breath. She’d had one, brief kiss from him that had been nothing like the ones Bernard had stolen, but hadn’t been nearly long enough to compare. If she was going to ever consider a future with Jack, she needed to compare, to be sure that the way he made her feel was different—better, more special—than the way Bernard had made her feel.