Page 8 of A Convenient Heart
He didn’t even know her name.
He realized it as their boots hit the wooden boardwalk at the base of the stairs. Like everything else, it was dusted with snow.
“The hotel is serving roasted chicken tonight. I know that’s one of your favorites.”
She was nervous, though she hadn’t shrugged away from his touch.
She’d put on a good show on the train platform, with that raised chin and confidence behind her statements, the plans she’d made.
But experience had taught him to see past her bluff, and he could feel the slight tremor that ran through her when she glanced at him as they walked.
And he wasn’t a cruel man. The words to tell her the truth, that there’d been a mistake, were right there on the tip of his tongue.
“Evening, miss!” A man sweeping the boardwalk planks in front of the grocery stopped to wave at them.
Moments later, a boy of fifteen or so, toting boxes down the boardwalk, actually stopped to tip his hat. “You finished your Christmas shopping?” he asked the schoolmarm.
“All done. How about you?” she answered sweetly.
And in the big glass window of a dress shop, the woman arranging a lace shawl over the shoulders of a mannequin stopped her work to wave.
Did the schoolmarm know every single person in town? She must.
The sense of community in the interactions, in the warm smile she had for everyone, made Jack uncomfortable. It was so…cloying.
He never stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots. And he liked it that way.
As they passed by a saloon, two men stomped out of the swinging doors. They were arguing loudly, and even from here Jack could smell the whiskey.
The schoolmarm’s nose wrinkled. “You’ll have to excuse that. It’s a disgrace to have four saloons in one small town.”
“You don’t think a couple of cowpokes like those deserve to let loose on their night off?”
She blinked at him, her brow wrinkling. She gave a slight head shake and said, “I’m not one to judge, but I am friends with the local marshal. The instances of unruly behavior and public drunkenness have become overwhelming. The saloons should take their business elsewhere.”
I’m friends with the marshal. If there were any words she could’ve said to doom an instant camaraderie, those worked.
Her highfalutin vocabulary was like drawing an offsuit when one almost had a flush. Maybe the young groom had been right to abscond. If Jack could have been sure Morris had stayed on that train, he might’ve slipped away this very moment.
But the truth of his identity, the words to excuse himself, stayed locked behind his teeth as they walked down the sleepy main street. His stomach grumbled. He’d sit through supper, then tell her the truth and get outta here.
The town was still as small as he remembered, though there was another saloon around the corner from the bank, piano music and light spilling out into the quiet street.
The hotel was warm inside, and he surrendered his coats—both of them—to the front desk attendant. The lobby was decked out with red ribbons and bows and even a swag of pine across the wide front desk.
Seated at the cloth-covered table, the schoolmarm was even prettier in the lamplight. It gilded the edges of her eyelashes gold.
I’m friends with the marshal. The reminder echoed inside him.
She was also prim, folding her hands in her lap when he would’ve slouched in his seat.
“I’ll walk you to the boardinghouse after supper. We’ll meet with the preacher tomorrow evening. There are a few things he wants to go over. I know he wants to meet with you privately a time or two before the wedding.”
She barely drew a breath before going on. “Since my students will be on Christmas break, we’ll have several days to settle into the house before I have to go back into the classroom.” A blush pinked her cheeks. “My teaching contract expires in May, and the school board won’t hire me back once we are married. Of course, you already know all this…”
Her nervous rambling stopped, and she finally looked up at him and he winked. “Why don’t we make it through supper before we plan the rest of our lives?”
Her brows pinched again as the waiter, a young man in a starched shirt and dark trousers, brought two mugs of steaming coffee.
