Page 216 of Conveniently Wed
He crossed his arms, felt his jaw muscles bunch into a knot. “I couldn’t.”
“I see.” She grabbed the dishes and hurried to the house before he could add anything.
“Wait. Let me explain.” As soon as the words were out, he wished he’d kept them inside his head.
She paused. Took a second then turned to face him. “What’s to explain?”
Only good manners made Stella wait for an explanation when everything in her said she should return to the house. She’d embarrassed them both by making such a rash offer. Though her only thought had been it would enable her to get back to the farm and provide a temporary home for Miss Rivers to heal.
Mr. Reynolds scuffed his boots in the dirt. “I’ve learned to my sorrow that a person can be living a righteous life and be obeying all the rules, but that doesn’t stop people from jumping to their own conclusions.” His voice was hoarse, and she knew something had happened that affected him deeply.
“It’s why we are on our way to Washington Territory.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s why I can’t accept your offer.” A weary sigh hung in the air between them as if neither cared to disturb it with words.
Just when she thought the conversation was over, he spoke again, his words low enough she strained to hear them. “If I tell you what happened, you’ll understand why I must refuse your very generous offer.” Another long, heavy silence.
She would have left except he had aroused her curiosity. And it wasn’t just idle curiosity. She wondered what could have happened to send this man to Washington Territory with hisaunt. Or was it an excuse such as her pa would have used in an attempt to convince them that moving was necessary? She’d heard more than her share of such.
“Back home the preacher’s daughter set her sights on me. I ended up courting her. But then I realized she was not sweet. She spoke ill of others. Flaunted herself before men.” He shrugged.
“Suffice it to say that she wasn’t the sort of girl I wanted to associate with, and I broke it off. She was stung by my refusal to see her and spoke unkindly about me. I ignored it. But then she told her father that I had tried to take advantage of her. Her father—the preacher—began a vendetta against me. I would have ignored it even when dirt was thrown on Aunt Mary’s porch. But things grew worse until it wasn’t safe for her. She’s had to leave a home she’s had for as long as I can remember. I intend to make it up to her by getting her to her sister who has offered her a home. Best I keep moving and fulfill that promise.”
Stella thought she’d heard every excuse imaginable, but this one was new. Was the man serious, or building a somewhat-believable scenario? Blossom liked him. That almost convinced Stella to believe him.
Though what difference did it make?
He had refused her offer. He was set on continuing his journey.
She couldn’t go back to her farm. That was that.
She gathered up the dishes and returned to the house.
The preacher was in the parlor. Miss Rivers moaned. Stella shuddered, knowing she was getting her leg splinted. No matter what had happened to her nephew to make him pull up roots it wasn’t fair to put a woman through the pain of travel.
Mrs. Kinsley murmured to Miss Rivers.
Stella continued to the kitchen, where her children waited for her.
“Are we going home?” Donny asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Why not?” Her son pressed his lips together. Someone who didn’t know him would think he was being stubborn. She knew he was holding back tears. He’d made no secret of his longing to return to the farm.
Blossom’s eyes widened. “He come wif us?” She looked down the hall as if watching for Mr. Reynolds.
“No, sweetie. He has other plans.”
Blossom’s eyes pooled with tears.
Stella pressed back a sense of failure. She’d disappointed her children. If she didn’t soon return to the farm, she stood a good chance of losing it, and that would be an even bigger disappointment. To keep herself from sitting down and wailing, she gathered up the dirty dishes and took them to the cupboard to wash. “You two can help me.” She handed each of them a drying towel. To Blossom, she gave silverware to dry. To Donny, a plate.
“What game shall we play?” They usually played pretend.
“I don’t feel like playing,” Donny said, keeping his head down so she couldn’t see his face.
Blossom didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need words to express her feelings. Her wide eyes and trembling lips said it all.
Stella’s heart felt full of rocks. She’d done her best to give the pair what they needed—security, stability, and roots. It was tempting to return to the farm immediately regardless of Mr. Reynold’s refusal to accompany her, but she had pushed herself before and almost died. She would not put herself or her children in that position again.
