Page 25 of A Convenient Heart
He shook himself, as if he’d been lost in his memories. “His name was Dewey. He was only eleven when he died.”
His voice had gone gruff, and her heart squeezed to hear the grief in his tone. He obviously still missed his brother.
“What was he like?” she asked again. “What kind of person was he? Charming and kind, like you?”
His eyes flicked to hers and held for a moment before he took the last chair from her hands and added it to their haphazard stack on the boardwalk.
“He was an old soul. Could sing or hum a tune even if he only heard it once. He was always whistling something. Used to drive me crazy.”
But the affectionate tone in his voice belied the statement.
“You want help carrying them in?” Will asked from the wagon box.
She realized he was waiting to go. “We can do it,” she told Will. “You’ve been a big help this morning. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
He nodded and hopped back onto the wagon seat.
Jack had already started carrying two of the chairs toward the open door of the dance hall.
She tried to pick up two but found it cumbersome with her skirts, so she grabbed one with both hands and began to follow him.
“What about your parents?” she called out after him, huffing a bit as she attempted to keep up with his long-legged stride. “I know your mother passed away. Is your father well?”
He dropped the two chairs to the floor with a clatter, though they didn’t fall.
The window of the dance hall sent a rectangle of light against the shadows inside. Jack stood just behind it, his face in shadow. “I don’t want to talk about my family.”
She was trembling a little as he brushed past her, and she was left to put her chair around one of the round tables that had been moved inside.
She hadn’t meant to pry, and she told him so as he met her in the doorway, already carrying two more chairs through.
“I thought…I just wanted to get to know you better,” she said softly. “We’ve only exchanged the few letters. I-I’m sorry if I pushed too hard.”
She couldn’t read his expression, but he didn’t quite meet her eyes. “We’ll talk. Later.”
She ducked outside, the bright sunlight stinging her eyes in contrast to the darkened inside of the building.
When she passed back inside and he grunted that he’d get the last two chairs, she was left to look at her list. But her eyes were watering and she couldn’t quite focus.
She wanted to know Jack. She’d thought he would want that too.
But perhaps she was being too forward. She hadn’t expected this prickly side of him.
She didn’t know how to smooth things over.
* * *
“We brung lunch!”
The childish voice called out just before the noise of several pairs of feet tromped through the door.
Jack looked up from where he’d stationed himself in the middle of the tables. Merritt was standing near the door, poring over several papers in her hands.
They’d passed several minutes in silence.
He’d hurt her with his curt response to her question about his parents. She was too easy to read—wasn’t hiding her emotions at all—and he’d seen the quick blink and the hurt in her eyes before she’d ducked her head over those papers.
He was sorry for it.
