A Bride at Last (29 page)

“Will you run with me every Sunday?”

She swallowed. If he wasn’t disappointed that she wasn’t getting married, how easily would he get over her leaving? “As long as I don’t have to go away.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why would you go away?”

“I have to find someplace to work. If I can’t find a job in Salt Flatts, I might have to look elsewhere.”

His face lost its joy. “Why can’t you teach at my school?”

“It’s a long explanation.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “But I promise I’ll try to find something in town.”

“If you got married right away, would you be able to stay?”

Did he not care to whom? She nodded, her heart feeling a tad bit lighter. At least he still wanted her around.

“Well, then, why don’t you just get married?”

Thankfully Silas hadn’t bad-mouthed her if Anthony thought someone else would want her now. “I don’t think I can marry anybody fast enough to keep me from needing a job.” And even if she could, she’d never get suckered into contemplating a quick marriage again. And this time she meant it!

“You’d marry someone besides Mr. Jonesey? But I wanted you to be
my
mother.” He yanked away from her, a snarl on his lips. “That’s why you came.”

“Don’t blame—”

But the boy had already pivoted and run from the parlor. The front door slammed, rattling the knickknacks on the shelving.

Fannie, the boardinghouse owner and the postmaster’s estranged wife, shuffled in, drying her hands on a towel. She looked out the window. “Why’s he running off like his pants are on fire?”

“Grown-ups aren’t as fun as he wants them to be.” She fingered the sleeve draped over her chair’s arm. She wasn’t ready to explain things to Fannie right now. She’d not told her about Silas calling off the wedding, hoping he’d come around.

Fannie picked up the bodice and frowned at the uneven gathers in the sleeve. The woman had been gracious to help her sew a wedding dress and likely couldn’t stand the substandard work her guest was doing on the simple, but elegant pattern she’d pulled from her box. “We don’t have much time to get this right. I need to make sure everyone’s lamps and water pitchers are filled first, but I’ll come back to help. We’re so close.”

So close. She’d been so close to having her life settled.

The desire to run coursed through her and came out in the quick tapping of her toes. But she wouldn’t disappoint Anthony, no matter how difficult it’d be to celebrate his birthday with his father—to stay in the same town knowing Silas would’ve held her in his arms if she hadn’t left so many others.

Running had never made life easier, not really. She was in this mess because she was good at running.

She stilled her foot, took up her sleeve, and cut out the thread again.

Silas slowed his team as they entered Salt Flatts, directing them toward a small opening near the lone tree shading the church. He maneuvered the wagon through parked carriages, buggies, and the congregants heading inside.

Once stopped, Anthony climbed down the wagon wheel without a shred of enthusiasm.

“Hello, Silas!”

Silas raised a hand in greeting to Will, who stood near the church’s side steps with Eliza on his arm.

When Anthony trudged up the stairs, Will tried to put his arm around the boy. Anthony moodily shrugged from his embrace.

Silas had seen many men light into their sons for such disrespect. He’d have to have a serious talk with him tonight. But would talking be enough? Nothing he’d said this morning had helped his son’s mood. He’d almost had to carry him to the wagon. For a moment, he’d considered leaving the boy at home, but since he’d run away in Breton without much thought, he might take off here too, and that’d be even more dangerous.

After taking care of his team, Silas joined Will and Eliza, who were waiting for him. He sighed. He’d have to tell them he didn’t need them to stick around after services anymore. “Sorry about Anthony’s attitude.”

Eliza smiled, causing the small pale-pink scar at the corner of her right cheek to bunch. “He’s got a lot of adjusting to do.”

“So do I.” Silas pulled off his hat before they entered church. He scanned the pews and found Anthony up front with Kate.
She’d turned in her seat, her eyebrow raised as if to ask if Anthony’s decision to sit with her was all right.

He nodded his permission, and followed Will into his pew.

His friend scratched his head. “You’re sitting with us?”

“Yes.” He moved a hymnal off the seat, thankful for something to mess with. “Miss Dawson and I called things off. No need to stay after services with us today.”

Both Will and Eliza paused mid-sit but lowered themselves the rest of the way once Silas thumped down and deposited the hymnal in his lap.

Will glared at him. “Why’s that?”

He focused on the reverend’s wife starting the music. “She’s got a history of running off I didn’t know about.”

“You’ve got a history of drinking.”

Silas gritted his jaw. He wouldn’t deny it, but did Will have to say it so loud? Some in the congregation weren’t as forgiving about past mistakes as God was. “I got a boy to consider. I could live through being abandoned again, but I won’t put Anthony through it.”

Will nodded toward Anthony. “Looks like you’re putting him through it by not giving her a chance. Is that why he’s upset?”

Silas set his jaw. Anthony had barely talked to him since he’d learned from Kate that they weren’t marrying, but he needed to consider what was good for his son in the long run.

A woman who couldn’t commit was not a woman he’d pine over, no matter how nice she’d felt in his arms or how much he wished things were different.

Reverend Finch drowned out any further questions with the first verse of “The Solid Rock.” Silas stood and sang, and they soon reached the third verse.

His oath, His covenant, His blood,

Support me in the whelming flood;

When all around my soul gives way,

He then is all my hope and stay.

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;

All other ground is sinking sand.

He kept singing, but with less gusto than usual.

All other ground is sinking sand.

He quit and closed his eyes.

Jesus, I need help.
Everything is giving way, the storms have hit, and that’s a dangerous place for me. I’ve got Anthony
to look after now. Thank you for entrusting me with
him, though I’m uncertain I’ll be a good father. Please be my hope and stay—I need your
stability.

He tried to pay attention to the pastor once they’d all been seated, but his eyes kept wandering three pews up and one across. Just to be certain Anthony was all right, of course.

But he didn’t look all right. The boy hadn’t uncrossed his arms since Kate had pulled him close. How could he deny his son the love of a mother?

It was all Silas could do to keep from standing up and giving in.

Of course, Kate didn’t have to be the mother, but Anthony warming up to another woman would likely take just as long as it was taking him to warm up to a new pa.

Not that there was another woman in town—or one he’d ever met in his life, really—that he admired so much.

Or at least had.

No, he still admired her. Couldn’t lie to himself. He was just appropriately leery now.

At the end of the service, Kate walked toward him, her arm around Anthony.

Silas looked to his left, but Will and Eliza had vanished. He tugged at his tie. He’d promised they’d talk later, but he still wasn’t ready. He needed to be certain he was level-headed enough not to change his mind if she flashed him a pretty smile.

She stopped in front of him, her smile more sad than pretty. “Anthony said we’re meeting for ice cream on Wednesday?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her eyebrows raised at his formality, and then her eyes turned wounded.

He crushed his hat in his hand. Wounded eyes were a whole lot worse than a pretty smile. He pressed his lips together to keep from babbling nonsense in case he said something to give her hope he didn’t feel at the moment.

Why wasn’t anyone coming to talk to them? The church had emptied faster than usual. Or had they been standing staring at each other for longer than he realized?

“Go on outside, Anthony.” Kate pushed his son forward. “I’ll be out to run in a minute.”

He forced himself to stop crushing his hat and clamped it against his leg.

“Fannie asked me if I was still going to be at the boardinghouse next week.”

Well, of course she was. He’d called things off. He nodded.

“I don’t have money, Silas.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed his groan. He didn’t have money either, at least not if he wanted funds to buy a wagon and tools come spring. “All right, I’ll pay for next week.”

“And to compensate, I’ll come to your place and help you with the garden or whatever else I can do.” She blinked her large, earnest eyes at him.

No. That wouldn’t do at all. He stuck a finger into his collar and tugged. He was already far too attached to her, and the
last time she’d come, he’d found her too easy to kiss. “I don’t think that’d be good for Anthony.”

Her gaze fell. “Won’t you even think about . . .
us
?”

What did she mean? That’s all he was thinking about. “I can’t promise anything, but we can talk later.” After he had himself put back together and knew whether he should pursue her or not.

If he distanced himself for a while, wouldn’t he know whether or not he could or should live without her? “But the reason you can’t work for me is you’ll need to find a job since I don’t have enough money to pay for your boarding indefinitely.”

Her hands slid up to her hips. “Where do you propose I look for work?”

At least he was stoking the fire back up in her. This Kate was easier to deal with than the one looking at him as if she were lost. “The school?”

“I don’t have a proper license.”

Right.
“You could ask Will’s wife, Eliza. If any woman can help you find a job, it’d be her. She’s a bona fide businesswoman.”

“And if I still can’t find one?”

He ran a hand through his hair. Could he promise her anything? “I don’t know.”

“I love Anthony, Silas. I’ve got nothing to go back to. I’m not leaving.”

“What about after Anthony grows up and heads out on his own?” He swallowed hard. Hadn’t she asked him about that when he’d proposed?

Her body went soft again. “Depends on where I am.”

The front doors of the church creaked open, and Anthony poked his head in. “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” Kate called. She turned back to look at him. “I’m going to run with Anthony now. But I’m not running any farther than the churchyard.”

He exhaled the moment she left the room, and he glanced up to where the stained-glass window of Christ praying in the garden bathed the front of the church in red and amber.

I know I’m not in a tougher spot than you were, but I wish I knew as clearly as you did what I’m to do. I want to believe her. . . .

He turned to look out the window and saw her holding her arm out in front of Anthony as if he’d try to get a lead on her before they both shot off together and out of sight.

I really want to believe her.

On Wednesday afternoon, with her arm around Anthony’s shoulder, Kate followed Silas inside a shop that smelled of spun sugar. What could she talk about that wouldn’t upset Anthony? Eating ice cream in silence was no way to celebrate a birthday.

“It smells heavenly in here. Seems a shame you only get to have one bowl of ice cream.” She snapped her fingers and squeezed his shoulder. “You know what? I hadn’t the time to get you a gift or paint you a birthday card, so why don’t you choose a handful of something to take home.”

Anthony smiled, but not as brightly as usual.

Silas cleared his throat. “Are you sure you should be spending money on—”

“A dime or two won’t break the bank.” Not that she had a bank to break. She owned a very small coin purse with a lot of air in it.