Page 54 of A Convenient Heart
He wasn’tthatlate. Only a few minutes.
The preacher himself had waited with her and Mrs. Carson in the parlor until five after and then excused himself to his office. Merritt could hear him muttering to himself and the sound of pages turning. Service would be starting soon, the church building a half block away.
Where was Jack?
She remembered the way Jack had looked at her when he’d seen her in this dress. Like it was Christmas morning and he’d just received everything he wanted.
Like she was beautiful.
But where was he?
Another memory surfaced, this one of his stillness last night when she’d moved to kiss him goodbye in the darkness outside his house. They’d only had a scarce few moments together after she’d been knocked off the boardwalk, and she’d been shaken and a little discombobulated, reassured by his arm around her shoulders and his strength at her side.
Had he been shaken too?
I need to tell you?—
He’d been trying to tell her something, while she’d been excitedly prattling on about the auction and donations. And then her friends had been waiting for her.
Perhaps she should’ve invited him inside.
Nerves slithered through her stomach like a knot of snakes. What had Jack wanted to tell her?
Where was he?
A shadow passed by the sunshine-filled window and her heart leaped.
A knock sounded at the door, and she worked to steady her breathing. That was Jack. He was late, but he was here.
The preacher’s wife came in from the kitchen and shot a harried smile at Merritt, then opened the door to reveal the person on the other side.
Danna.
Merritt felt a rush of trepidation as her heart pounded. Danna would only have come if something was wrong.
“Where’s Jack? What’s happened?” Merritt hated the way her voice wavered.
Danna scanned the room the way Merritt had seen her do before, as if she were on the lookout for danger. “He’s not here?”
Merritt shook her head.
Danna nodded to Mrs. Carson. “Would you give us a minute?”
The older woman sent a sympathetic glance to Merritt. “Of course.” The woman joined her husband in his office.
Danna strode into the room and motioned to the settee where the preacher’s wife had previously sat. “Why don’t you sit down.”
“I don’t want to.” But that quaver remained in her voice, and Merritt took the two steps that put her in front of the settee and sat down on it.
Danna took the chair across. She looked grim.
“Just tell me. Is Jack all right? Is he injured?”
“How much do you know about Jack?” Danna asked.
What did that have to do with Jack’s whereabouts? Her hands fluttered in her lap. “What he wrote me in his letters.” She had a flash of Jack’s expression as a reflection in the kitchen window when he’d told her about losing his brother. “And he’s told me a little more.”
“You heard the name Jack Easton?”
