Page 58 of A Convenient Heart
He strode out of the parlor and closed the door behind him.
He’d hesitated for a moment too long, because he heard the sound of her muffled sob from inside.
He’d made Merritt cry.
He rested one hand against the doorframe, leaning his face into his bent arm. The movement made every sore muscle in his abdomen pull.
There was a part of him grateful for the pain. He deserved it, didn’t he? For years, he’d prided himself on fixing problems. Saving the miners’ widows from having their homes foreclosed on. Providing funds for an orphanage.
Jack had believed that righting wrongs would fix what was wrong with him.
But this time, his motives hadn’t been pure.
He’d let his heart get involved. It’d only taken one conversation over supper that first night for him to see how special Merritt was.
He’d let himself believe there was a chance for him to be with Merritt.
He knew better.
The odds of one ace being drawn after another were longer than a Texas prairie.
Jack’s chances of someone like Merritt falling in love with him were even longer than that.
He’d acted liked one of the saps who shouldn’t play cards, hoping for the one-in-a-million chance to win.
Jack forced himself to move away from the door, from the sound of her quiet crying. He was getting on that train. He’d told the school board members he was leaving town. Stopped in at the mercantile and the grocer and spread the word there. Tried to ignore the shock and whispers he’d left behind him.
He couldn’t let himself care. The important thing was ensuring Merritt’s safety. If Morris came looking for Jack, surely someone would tell the hired gun that Jack was gone.
Jack looked over his shoulder at the preacher’s tidy home. For a moment, he wished things had been different. That he’d walked into town and met Merritt under different circumstances.
But the part of him that couldn’t lie to himself knew it wouldn’t have made any difference.
She never would’ve chosen him. Jack Easton. Gambler. Loner. Orphan.
She deserved someone better.
And he wasn’t it.
Chapter12
Days ago, the train compartment had been nearly empty. This afternoon’s journey was the opposite: the car had only a handful of empty seats.
Jack found himself in an aisle seat, next to a portly woman who was balancing three brown-wrapped packages in her lap and had a carpetbag between her feet.
Across the aisle, a man who must have been around Jack’s age held a young boy in his lap while a girl of six sat next to him at the window, swinging her feet.
Jack held a newspaper, folded into quarters. He forced his eyes to scan the tiny type, though the ache in his head made it difficult to concentrate.
He’d been hoping for an answer in the paper’s pages. Where was he supposed to end up next?
He needed the focus of a job. A new mission. Something to distract him.
Across the aisle, the little girl was whispering urgently to her father, who looked harried but then sighed. He stood up, juggling the boy in his arms.
“I don’t gotta use the water closet!” shouted the young boy.
One or two heads turned at the commotion, but mostly folks were absorbed in their own conversations or didn’t seem to care.
