16
Cassie had a warm apple pie waiting on a worktable when Wash returned that evening. One of Mr. West’s ledgers rested next to the dessert.
Wash glanced between her and Jenny. “This here pie must be the surprise you promised Mr. West. Looks mighty good.” He hung his hat over a peg beside the screen door. “Soon’s I mop this floor, I’ll take him his supper.”
Jenny nudged Cassie’s side, then folded her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Go ahead, ask him.”
Bucket in hand, Wash paused on his way to the pump. “Ask me what, missy?”
“Would you please take me with you when you deliver Mr. West’s supper?” Her pulse thudded. Wash had to say yes.
She needed Mr. West’s permission to continue with the ledger. And if she were honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason for her request. She wanted to see him.
The deep grooves on either side of Wash’s mouth lifted when he smiled. “I reckon I could do that. He was right pleased to hear you was back. Seein’ you might be a better surprise than a pie.”
Jenny cleared her throat. “Now, Wash, you know Mr. West doesn’t like too many folks knowing where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t be driving Miss Haddon out there. I tried to talk her out of going, but—”
“He’s been real good to me. I surely don’t want to make him mad.” He set the bucket on the floor, then faced Cassie. “Maybe I better ask him first. If he says yes, you can go tomorrow.”
She shook her head. She’d tallied Mr. West’s receipts, entered the amounts in his ledger, and placed the cash in a metal box she’d discovered in his office. She’d already stepped so far over the line of propriety that his anger at having her come to his house seemed minor. Either he’d be grateful for her help, or dismiss her on the spot.
“If he’s upset, Wash, I’ll take the blame.” She moved the pie to one side and hefted the ledger, amazed at her daring. “Please. We’ll leave as soon as you’re finished with your chores.”
Cassie sat in the back of the buggy while Wash drove them through town and on west in the direction of Pioneer Lake. Twilight bathed her surroundings in softness. When she was a child, she imagined at this quiet time that the earth was settling down to sleep.
She sighed at the memory as Wash slowed the buggy and turned onto a narrow road leading uphill. So much had happened since the war swept away her peaceful childhood. Sometimes she hardly recognized the person she’d become. The old Cassie would never have demanded to be taken to visit a single man in his home. Yet here she was, bouncing over a rocky track to confess to her employer that she’d taken the liberty to look into his business ledgers.
After cresting a rise, Wash stopped the buggy in front of a two-story frame house that rivaled many of the homes she’d seen in Noble Springs. A lattice-trimmed veranda spread across the front. Light spilling from tall windows brightened rocking chairs on both sides of the porch. Looking up, she noticed smoke curling from a chimney at the center of the roof. She couldn’t understand why Jenny said Mr. West didn’t like people knowing where he lived. Surely he was proud of his fine home.
“Here you are, missy. You wait right there. I’ll help you with your things.” The buggy rocked when Wash jumped to the ground. After he tied the horse to a hitching post, she handed him the pie and a bowl containing supper but kept the ledger tucked beneath her shawl.
He hesitated a moment before carrying the food toward the house. “Lordy, I hope he’s not mad that I brought you.”
“I pray he’s not. But I promise I’ll tell him it was all my idea.”
“Yes, missy.” Doubt weighted his words. He stepped in front of her to open the door.
A wide hallway lay before them, with a set of stairs on the left leading to the second floor. Halfway down the hall, a stream of light flowed from an open doorway to her right. Wash pointed. “There’s the parlor.”
Mr. West’s gravelly voice called from within the room. “That you, Wash?” His tone sharpened. “Is someone with you?”
“Yes, sir.” He moved aside so Cassie could precede him. “Missy Haddon came with me.”
Jacob’s face brightened when she entered the room. He pushed himself higher in his upholstered chair and reached for crutches lying on the floor within his reach. The motion shifted his right leg, which rested on a low stool in front of him.
The sight of him reclining, leg splinted and bandaged, melted her heart. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. Please don’t try to stand.”
She wished she could reach out and smooth the tousled hair from his forehead. Instead, she extended her hand and he took it in his. Tingles skittered up her arm.
Still holding her hand, he enveloped her in his warm gaze. “Thank you.” He glanced at Wash, who remained in the doorway holding the food. “Wash said you were sending a surprise. Looks like you made me a pie.” A smile spread beneath his moustache. “Having you deliver it in person is a better surprise.”
When Wash left, heading toward what she assumed to be the kitchen, she stepped away from Mr. West’s side. “After you see what else I brought, you may not like the surprise quite so much.”
He waved at a gilt-trimmed velvet sofa facing his chair. “I doubt that. Please, be seated and tell me the rest.”
She sank onto the plush upholstery and took a quick glance around. Recessed bookcases framed both sides of the fireplace. All the furnishings complemented the elegance of the sofa. She wondered at the contrast between the simplicity of the restaurant dining room and the ornamentation in his home. Mr. West held a few surprises of his own.
“I need to tell you what I’ve—what we’ve all done to take care of the business while you’re away.” She pulled the ledger from beneath her shawl and laid it across her knees.
His eyes widened.
“After Timothy left today, I wrote the grocery and restaurant receipts in here. I copied the way you’ve done it.”
“Let me see.” He leaned toward her, his mouth set in a straight line.
Feeling the sting of his gaze, she passed the opened book to him.
Jacob tried to hide his misgivings when he accepted the ledger. He never allowed anyone to disturb the contents of his desk. But his careful planning hadn’t taken into account Miss Haddon’s desire to be useful. Running his finger down the row of numbers she’d entered, he mentally added the totals. To his amazement, her sums agreed with his.
He flipped the pages back to the beginning to see what he’d written in the book that might have revealed his life in Boston. As he feared, he’d noted names and addresses inside the front cover. Sweat dotted his hairline. Colin Riley and Keegan Byrne could be explained away. Not so the third name.
His breathing stilled. He stole a glance at Miss Haddon, trying to decipher her expression.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t blame you for being angry. I know I intruded, but I wanted to help. You’ve been kind to me in spite of my failures. I hoped it would comfort you to know that West & Riley’s would survive until you’re able to return.”
A few wisps of auburn hair had come loose and framed her face. She’d never looked prettier. He longed to cross the room to sit beside her and assure her he wasn’t upset, although nothing could be further from the truth. Instead, he closed the book and gave her what he hoped was a genuine smile.
“I’m grateful that you—all of you—care about me.” He gripped the ledger. “You did a fine job. Nevertheless, please leave the accounting to me.”
If he’d struck her, she couldn’t have looked more stunned. She shrank back against the sofa. “Did . . . did you find errors? I checked everything twice.”
Her visit had built on the intimacy he longed for between them. Now with one sentence he’d shattered the connection. “No errors.” He tried another smile. “I’ve always kept my business dealings private. Guess I’m too old to change.”
“I’ll remember that in the future.” Her voice sent a chill through him. She adjusted her shawl over her shoulders. “Perhaps I’d better be going.”
He glanced at the darkness gathering beyond the windows and nodded. “Would you please go to the kitchen—it’s the next door on the right off the hallway—to ask Wash to take you home? I’d go myself, but—” He gestured at his leg.
She stood, holding out her hand. “Would you like me to return the ledger to its proper place?”
His fingers tightened over the leather cover. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”
“Very well. Good evening.” She whipped through the doorway.
Within a few moments, Wash stepped into the room. “Missy Haddon says I’m to take her home now. Don’t you want your supper?”
“It can wait. Please see her safely to her door.”
“Yessir.”
After they left, Jacob slumped against the chair back and closed his eyes. Memories from his life in Boston taunted him.
Miss Haddon must never find out who he’d been and what he’d done.