Page 57 of A Convenient Heart
“You could probably send a wire,” he told Danna. “Verify that he’s alive and well.”
Surreptitiously, Merritt dabbed her face with a handkerchief.
“I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt empty. Not enough. “Deceiving you was wrong, and—I have no excuse.”
None except that he’d fallen for her. That painful realization was what had propelled him off the train platform last night, sent him to see the school board members this morning to try and right things for her.
She mattered in a way nothing had for a long time.
He turned the hat in his hands and shifted his feet. He’d come clean, finally. Told her the truth about who he really was.
But he didn’t feel any relief.
So maybe it was time to go.
She twisted on the settee until she was facing him, and now her eyes were blazing. “Why’d you stay?” she demanded, her voice like ice. “You’d planned to leave that first night. Why didn’t you?”
He felt the same visceral tug in his gut that he had that night when she’d flung herself into his arms and he’d held her.
It was a pull toher. To the one woman he’d let get close, who had kept him in Calvin.
But looking at her tear-matted lashes and the streaks of red in her cheeks, the fist around her handkerchief and the clear anger shining in her eyes, he couldn’t say that.
“I thought I could help,” he said instead. “I didn’t want you to lose your school, your job. I wanted—” He shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know what he’d wanted.
Not to hurt her.
If there was any way to take away the hurt he knew he’d caused, he would take it. “Every moment spent with you is one I’ll treasure.”
She turned her face at his words, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.
He felt the pulse of pain, more than that blow of Morris’s to his liver. This was it.
“Where’d you get that bruise?” Danna asked.
His gaze flicked to her. He’d almost forgotten she was present.
“A hired gun by the name of Morris.” It was easier to focus on the marshal than Merritt when he felt like he was burning up inside. “He’s been looking for me. Claims I cheated at cards.”
“Did you?”
He didn’t blink. “I don’t cheat. Don’t have to.” He went on. “Morris demanded a sum of money that I won in a card game. I don’t have it anymore.” He tipped his head toward Merritt. “He’d seen us together and made some threats. He’s the one who slashed the backdrops.”
Merritt flinched but didn’t seem surprised. So, she knew.
That was enough, wasn’t it? He’d told Merritt the truth. Warned Danna of the threats.
“I’m leaving on the next train.”
There was an awkward pause. He didn’t know what he’d hoped she would say. Something. Anything.
But she kept her face turned away, and she didn’t owe him one red cent.
He took a few steps forward, a prickling awareness of the marshal watching his every move slithering up the back of his neck. Did she see the slight limp from where Burns had landed that lucky punch? Every muscle felt tight and sore.
Jack placed the hat on the settee within arm’s reach of Merritt. “I can’t keep this. It wouldn’t be right. I’m—I’m sorry for everything.”
He would never forget those moments of breathless wonder when she’d given him the gift—but it had never been meant for him. Not Jack. She’d wanted John this entire time.
