Page 58 of His Perfect Bride
Even if she was, it didn’t matter. He’d been clear the other day that he wasn’t interested in more, and a couple of kisses wouldn’t change that.
Nineteen
Jackson’s whole body keened with the need to kiss Sage again—a need that wouldn’t be quelled no matter how hard he tried.
He blew out a tight breath as he walked along beside her toward the parsonage at the rear of Christ Church. He never should have kissed her again this morning—not once, but especially not twice, not after spending a night in bed beside her.
Was she thinking the same thing?
She was quieter than usual, had been for the steamboat voyage the rest of the distance up the Fraser River to Hope. They’d talked a little, mostly him explaining the different sandbars they passed, the gold that had been discovered in the area, and how the miners had moved farther up into the Cariboo region now that most of the easy gold had been discovered.
As usual, she’d asked him questions not only about the mining but about the wildlife and the Natives and how the smallpox had spread over the past year, wiping out whole tribes.
However, the air between them had been strained, and he’d caught her looking at him a time or two, as if she was wondering about his initiating the second kiss with her before boarding the steamboat. It had been one thing to kiss in the pub when everyone had been looking and demanding it of them. But it had been another matter altogether to kiss her when no one had been pressuring them.
Why had he done it?
He still couldn’t compute a plausible explanation.
With frustration pounding in his temple, he kicked at a loose stone in the gravel alley that led to the parsonage.
At least they’d arrived in Hope by the afternoon. The town was bigger than Centreville, having once been Fort Hope and an outpost for the Hudson’s Bay Company. It sat at the conflux of the Fraser and Coquihalla Rivers and was surrounded on three sides by mountains. The colorful changing leaves blanketed the mountains around them. It was truly a glorious sight, even with the clouds hanging low and filled with moisture.
Although each mile upriver brought him closer to the site of the accident, somehow the nearness wasn’t as hard to bear as he’d expected. Was it because he was distracted with his desires for Sage and his search for Augusta? Or maybe he was starting to finally accept all that had happened and heal from it?
If only once in a while his mind could function normally like other people’s. But it didn’t. It never had. And he couldn’t stop himself from being consumed with Sage—both in his waking and sleeping.
In fact, his need for her was growing more and more pronounced, so much so that he felt like he was one of the cables on a suspension bridge that was about to snap under the pressure. Should he just admit to himself and to her how much he cared about her? Even if he did, what would he be able to do about it?
Moreover, he needed to expend his mental capacity on their search for Augusta. Since their arrival, they’d walked along the waterfront, and he’d queried some of the regular stevedores he’d met on previous trips. One of them had finally recognized the small photograph of Augusta, claimed she’d been with a fellow but that he hadn’t taken the time to look closely at the man. The stevedore hadn’t exactly known where the couple had gone, but at one point, he’d seen them come out of Christ Church. If Augusta had been upset or struggling, the stevedore hadn’t noticed it.
Armed with that news, Jackson had led Sage over to the church. Unfortunately, the reverend, John Roberts, hadn’t been there, and now they were seeking him out at his home, praying he had seen Augusta and would be able to give them information about her.
“She has to be here in Hope somewhere,” Sage said, peering past the parsonage at the small homes that were on the outskirts of town. Most were new and made of clapboards since Hope boasted of a lumber mill. However, the residences were simple and small, not nearly as elaborate as his home in Victoria. Even so, this town in the wilderness of British Columbia was one of the mining towns that had lasted when others had dissolved as soon as the miners had moved on.
The parsonage ahead was painted a light yellow, and lacy curtains hung in each window. As they started up the flagstone path that led to the house, Sage slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his arm and held on tightly, as though she was afraid of the news that awaited them.
He laid his hand over hers and squeezed gently. “We shall find her, Sage. I vow it.”
She tilted her head so that he glimpsed her sorrowful eyes past the brim of her fancy bonnet. “I pray you’re right.”
He lifted a hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open to reveal a plain but kindly looking young woman wearing a fashionable gown, a brooch at her neck, and a pearl circlet in her hair.
“May I help you?” She regarded them almost as if she’d expected them.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jackson gave a polite tip of his hat. “We would like to speak with Reverend Roberts, please.”
“I’m his wife, Mrs. Roberts.” She clasped her hands together in a ladylike movement that reminded Jackson of his mother’s mannerisms. “Regretfully, Reverend Roberts’s duties have taken him out of town today to visit several mining camps.”
“I see.” Against him, he could feel Sage droop in disappointment. “Do you know when he will return?”
“It may not be for a couple of days, perhaps longer.” She glanced in the direction of the river. Although not visible from the house, it wasn’t far, and the whistle of an arriving steamboat echoed in the valley.
Should they wait in Hope until the reverend returned? During the interval, they could search for other clues, perhaps locate additional people who’d seen Augusta and could give them information.
“Thank you for your time, ma’am.” He gave a slight bow. “When your husband returns, would you be so kind as to let him know that…” How should he refer to Sage now that they were in Hope? He’d planned to drop the marriage pretense, especially because he’d anticipated finding Augusta who could chaperone them. But now if they had to stay at a local hotel for any length of time, the gossip would run rampant if he introduced Sage as anything other than his wife.
Sage shifted beside him, her arm still tucked in his.
