Page 50 of A Convenient Heart
Tomorrow morning, in the preacher’s parlor before the worship service, she would become Mrs. Jack Crosby. Anticipation swirled in her belly, the way it had every time the very same thought had caught her off guard today.
Jack was quiet as their boots thudded on the boardwalk, taking them past a darkened storefront. Another block, past the Happy Cowboy saloon, and they’d turn down her street.
“Will you have enough donations for the auction?” he asked.
“This dress will fetch a pretty penny,” she said, hugging the dear package to her middle, though careful not to crinkle the paper. “And the Castlerocks have promised to match the total of all our donations.”
She suspected it was the handiwork of her friend Penny’s mother. Despite being notoriously stingy, Mr. Castlerock had a soft spot for his wife and daughter. But it didn’t matter who’d made the pledge, only that it had been made. Merritt’s living room was filled with donation items, like the fancy mantel clock donated by the mercantile store, a batch of ten gift certificates for supper at the café—once it was back up and running—and a fine leather saddle from the new leatherworks in town.
Everyone Merritt had spoken to had thought having an auction just before the pageant was a brilliant idea. But she never would’ve come up with the idea if it hadn’t been for Jack and his urgency to get the school rebuilt.
Everything was going according to plan.
As they walked past a square of light cast on the ground through the saloon’s window, the doors swung open and several bodies pressed outside.
Jack began to speak. “I need to tell you?—”
There was an incomprehensible shout, and Merritt found herself flung completely off the boardwalk, fumbling for balance and not finding it.
She lost hold of the package, her arms flying out in front of her as the ground rushed up to meet her.
She hit hard, her knees and hands taking the brunt of the fall. She fought to catch her breath.
A raucous laugh broke out, quickly quieting as footsteps faded away into the night.
“Merritt!” Jack must’ve jumped off the boardwalk, because she heard the clomp of both his feet hitting the dirt lane.
“Don’t step on the dress—” She scrabbled to find it in the dark, her palms burning. How far had she flung it away as she’d tried to catch herself?
“Never mind about the dress.” His hands came to her shoulders and then her waist, lifting her to her feet.
He stayed close, his hands roaming her arms as if to check for injury. Was he watching over her shoulder, where the men had gone?
“Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. My knees are scraped, but I’m all right.”
He made a harsh sound in the darkness and she shivered.
“Let’s get you home.”
She’d never heard his voice so commanding.
“Jack, the dress!” she exclaimed when he banded his arm around her waist and would’ve led her away without it.
He made an angry noise and went back, carefully scooping up the package. He curled his arm about her shoulders and ushered her along the street to where they would’ve come off the boardwalk anyway.
He was quiet and seemed to be seething as they passed the two blocks until they reached her bungalow.
Light illuminated the lane from inside the house. In the last few moments, she’d forgotten about her company.
“Danna and my good friend Corrine are here, along with a few others.”
The door opened and feminine voices emerged.
Jack held back as a woman who could only be Corrine came outside in a flurry of skirts and lace.
“She took a tumble off the boardwalk,” he said quickly. “Coupla drunk men shoved right into her. Can you check her over?”
