Page 49 of A Convenient Heart
Mrs. Ewing bustled into the kitchenette, rattling a plate with her back turned to them.
You’re wanted.
Merritt willed the words to reach Jack, though she didn’t dare speak them aloud. She’d dreamed about him last night, the little boy he must’ve been. On his own. No family except the one he’d forged. No one to rescue him when he’d needed it.
It was incredible that he’d grown up to be a man of honor despite his beginnings. Oh, perhaps he had a propensity to keep secrets, but didn’t he have reason? For so long, he’d had no one to confide in.
She could be the person he confided in.
Her reasons for wanting to marry had been self-centered. She’d wanted a family of her own.
But now she wanted to give Jack a family. To show him the unconditional love she’d received before Maisey had died.
That’s why her hand curled around his where they sat on the sofa.
She caught his sideways glance as Mrs. Ewing crossed the room, a china plate in each hand. Merritt had to let go of Jack to take the treat offered to her. She murmured her thanks.
“It’s you who should be thanked,” Mrs. Ewing said. “Clarissa has been talking of nothing else but the pageant for weeks. You’ve made her Christmas by figurin’ out a place to hold it after all that’s happened.”
Merritt let the pleasure of the compliment wash over her. Jack bit into his cookie and expressed his delight, which made the woman straighten her shoulders with pride.
“Let me show you my donation,” Mrs. Ewing said as she bustled toward the bedroom door.
Merritt heard the rumble of Jack’s stomach. She had plans for later in the evening and hadn’t thought to plan for supper.
“Did you eat lunch?” she whispered to him.
At his shrug, she slipped him the second half of her cookie and caught the flash of warmth in his eyes just before Mrs. Ewing came back out of the room with a dove-gray dress over one arm.
Merritt balanced her plate on the sofa beside Jack and stood up to go to the woman.
“It’s lovely!” she exclaimed. “Look at the lacework, Jack.”
Mrs. Ewing beamed with pride as she held up one of the sleeves for Jack to see, careful to keep the hem of the dress off the ground.
“Pretty.” But when Merritt looked back at him, his gaze was on her.
She flushed.
There was a matching heat in his gaze before his eyes cut away.
Within minutes, Mrs. Ewing had wrapped the dress in crisp brown paper, and Merritt and Jack were sent on their way after a flurry of thank-yous.
“Want me to hold your package?” Jack asked as they descended the last stairs onto the boardwalk. The milliner’s shop was on the opposite end of town from Merritt’s home, but she set a brisk pace, face turned into her scarf.
“I’ve got it.” The dress wasn’t heavy, just awkward and bulky. Mrs. Ewing hadn’t wanted to wrinkle the fine fabric and had only folded it once, making it a large parcel.
“Where to?” he asked her.
“Home.”
She felt rather than heard the quick inhale of breath that he seemed to hold.
Home.
Had Jack ever had one before?
“I’m sorry we can’t spend the evening together,” she murmured. “But there is always tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after…”
