He’s coming here?” Charlotte’s voice cut off with a squeak. She set the kettle back on the stove and whirled to face Momma. “Your pa’s talking about hiring him to help out. You know we need an extra hand around here, especially with your brother gone.” Momma matter-of-factly kneaded the bread dough a final time.
“I figured Pa had already hired someone.” Reuben Wilson, coming here? Her thoughts swirled around; then a gnawing feeling settled in her stomach.
“Thirteen years can change a body.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Charlotte handed the bread pans to Momma. “But how do we know for certain?”
Momma reached out a flour-covered hand and touched Charlotte’s arm, stopping her from moving back to the stove. “Child, I’m not telling you to give him your heart. No one’s asking for that.”
“I know,” Charlotte whispered. She managed a smile and hoped the subject would change.
He’d made her out a fool once, but not again. At thirteen she’d trusted him with her fragile heart, only to have it tossed at her feet in a million pieces two years later when he and his brothers disappeared. Then when he reappeared, she realized she’d only squashed the pieces together, and her whole heart threatened to crumble again. This “put her in a mood,” as Momma would say.
James had left after a short conversation in the front parlor earlier in the afternoon, a fact for which she was grateful. No, maybe she wanted him here by her side at supper, at least to drive home to Reuben the fact that her life did not include him. Stop it. You’ll not use another man to prove a point to someone else.
Charlotte started heating the grease to cook the beef her family reserved for special occasions. If Reuben was like the prodigal son in the Bible, she needn’t act like the jealous older brother and begrudge him some Christian hospitality.
She’d been praying about acting more like a Christian outside of church. Therefore she would do her best to see Reuben as the reformed wanderer, in need of restoration and kindness. But she would make sure the walls around her heart held firm. When she put supper on the table, a knock sounded at the front door.
Momma said, “Charlotte, open the door for our guest.”
“Of course.” Charlotte placed the plate of meat on the table, smoothed her apron, and headed for the front room.
As she expected, Reuben waited, turning his hat over in his hands. His bulk filled the doorway.
“Please come in.” Charlotte reached for his hat. A tangle of fingers made her catch her breath.
“Your ma and pa have a nice home. I think they were building it when…” Reuben’s voice trailed off as he took in his surroundings with a somber expression.
“Yes.” Charlotte glanced at the comforts she’d grown to love. Her momma’s warm knitted throws, perfect to wrap up in on a chilly night, the hand-carved rocking chair from back East, an iron woodstove that kept the front part of the house warm. “Pa finished the house not long after you and…you and your brothers left.” The words came out in spite of her reluctance.
Reuben winced as though she’d slapped him. “What about your brother? Is he still around? He should be about eighteen by now, right?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No. Momma and Pa sent him to school. Which is why Pa needs the help now. We lost a hand recently also.”
She turned her back to lead Reuben to the warm kitchen, but his strong hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Charlie.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and murmured, “It’s been a long time since anyone called me that.” She allowed Reuben to turn her back around. What had happened to her head? Her feet refused to take her into the kitchen.
She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to meet Reuben’s gaze. Her rebellious pulse now hammered in her ears. The last time they’d been this close was the night before Reuben and his brothers disappeared. She now saw a man’s face instead of a mostly grown boy, torn between loving her and running from the sins of his youth. Well, she thought he’d loved her. The fingers of her free hand tightened into a fist.
“Oh, Reuben—” Her fingers tingled, wanting to touch his jaw, which tensed with emotion. The sorrow in his eyes struck her in the gut, making her feel like the time she’d taken one of the boys’ dares to leap from the hayloft onto a haystack. She’d fallen down, down, down and landed on a shallow part of the stack. The air had left her lungs with a whoosh as she slammed onto the hay-covered ground. Just like now.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. We’d gotten in over our heads. I didn’t want to lead the law straight to Ma. Turns out I broke her heart anyway. We all did.” Reuben raked his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to break yours, either.”
The old feelings of betrayal surged through her. “I loved you once. But that was a long time ago. We’re both adults now, and I’m sure quite different people.” The admission of her old feelings made her face flame hotter.
“I know I’m different now. Which is what I hope you and the rest of the town will see one day.” Reuben expelled a hollow sigh. “And I thank you for coming today. Your family has done me a great kindness. I’m glad my ma wasn’t all alone.”
“No, she wasn’t.” Her emotions teetered between compassion for the man before her and anger at the years they’d lost. “She prayed for you, even up until the end.”
“She prayed me home.”
Charlotte fell into the river of anger. “A little too late, don’t you think? Why are you here, anyway?” Two stray tears crept down her cheeks.
“This place is my home. I need to make amends for what I’ve done.” He wiped away one of her tears with his rough yet gentle fingers.
Her stomach quivered at his presumptive gesture and stepped backward in the direction of the kitchen. “Come. Supper’s on the table. Pa should be washing up after seeing to the animals, and then we’ll eat.”
So much for building up walls around her heart. As he had done in childhood, Reuben snuck around the back and caught her unawares. No matter what he said, some things hadn’t changed, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her heart accused her of being a fool not to realize that James was a lesser man than Reuben.
All through the meal, Charlie avoided looking Reuben in the eye. Although Sam talked about the work he needed help with around the farm, Reuben felt as though he held an unspoken conversation with the woman across the table.
During the few moments in the front room before dinner, the feelings coursing through Reuben nearly overcame him. He wanted to shove through the years piled between them and take Charlie in his arms and kiss her, as he should have years ago, and promise never to leave.
What would have happened if he and his brothers had returned the money from the robbery in Colorado and come clean? Reuben imagined Benjamin, who was safe at home, and Colt, Caleb, and himself running the Wilson ranch after jail.
“So what do you think, Reuben?”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“You ain’t heard a word of what I’ve told you the last five minutes, have ya?” Sam chuckled. His molasses brown eyes glinted in the lamplight. “Ah, but you’ve had a lot on your plate. I can’t pay you much—”
“That’s all right, sir.” Reuben downed the last sip of his coffee. “I’m here to figure out some things, maybe earn some respect back for my family. One thing I have learned is there’s no shame in hard work.”
Sam nodded. “Right you are. I was hoping Sam Junior would have wanted the farm one day, but he’s got work of another kind. He’s going to be a lawyer.”
He appeared to change his direction of thought. “Another thing, around here we work every day except Sunday. We go to the Lord’s house and worship. And you’ll come with us, too.”
“That’s fine by me.” Reuben didn’t dare venture a glance at Charlie. “Another thing I’ve learned is a man isn’t much of a man without living for God. I’m nowhere near the man I want to be, but with His help I’m trying.”
That said, he picked up his coffee cup and raised it to his lips, then stopped. He’d forgotten it was empty.
“Charlotte, get our friend Reuben here another cup of coffee, would ya?” Sam gestured toward Reuben’s cup, still held in midair.
A knock sounded at the front door. Sam glanced at his wife, then at Charlotte, who had moved to the stove.
“I’ll answer that,” she offered. Charlotte rounded the table, her skirts swishing.
She returned a few seconds later with a red flush on her cheeks. The young dandy who’d driven her home after the funeral followed close behind. Reuben didn’t miss the challenge in the young man’s eyes.
“I apologize for interrupting your supper, Mr. and Mrs. Jeffers. I happened to leave my hat here earlier and thought I’d retrieve it now.” The man appraised Charlotte with a look that made Reuben want to wipe it from his face. Reuben found himself the focus of the mild-mannered gaze that masked anger held back like a wild bronc.
Reuben stood from his place at the table. “I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance, but I want to thank you for coming and paying your respects to my ma. I’m Reuben Wilson.” As if the man didn’t know. Reuben extended a hand.
“James Johansson. I used to share a desk with your brother Caleb in school.” James’s hand clenched Reuben’s in a wiry grip. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeffers, since you have company, I’ll be off. But if Charlotte wishes and with your permission, may I return tomorrow evening to listen to her read?”
Sam nodded as Reuben took his seat.
“All right, tomorrow at seven. Have a pleasant evening.” James put on his hat then left.
Reuben stared at his empty coffee cup and wondered if Charlotte could see that James was as slippery as a fish. From the corner of his eye, he saw her move to the stove for the coffeepot, her face now glowing crimson.
“Here’s that coffee, Reuben.” Charlotte was at his elbow. Her hand shook as she poured.
“Thank you. It’s good coffee.”
“Ma made it.” She returned to the stove and kept her back to him.
Reuben ignored the barb. “Another thing, Sam. I’m going to start looking for my brothers. Part of my promise to Ma, you know. Has anybody heard from them?”
Sam shook his head. “Not since Caleb came through about five years ago. He looked wore out. Think he was pretty ashamed. Saw yer ma and left.”
Etta added, “I remember talking with her about Caleb over tea. I think it hurt her again that he left, but she believed that somehow the words she shared would bring him back to following the Lord’s ways.”
“I’m grateful to you both for watching out for her. You gave her a fair price for the land, and she lived comfortably in town.” Reuben sipped his coffee, feeling the all-too-familiar shame rising inside again. “You’ve been good neighbors. She said you helped her after Pa died.” His throat tightened.
Etta patted his hand. “We take care of our own here, Reuben Wilson. Welcome home.”
Reuben caught Charlotte’s gaze. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.