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JACK WAS IN THE HAY loft tossing bales down into the barn when Harry and Alice returned from their picnic. He climbed down the ladder and went outside in time to see Harry stop only long enough for Alice to step down. Without a word, she ran inside. Harry made no attempt to speak to her or follow. Something had happened. Harry’s jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and narrowed. Alice was crying.
Jack wandered about, looking for anything to occupy his time while deciding whether or not to go inside and talk to her. His other option was to saddle one of the horses and ride out to confront Harry.
The barn cat lay half asleep in the sun. Jack put his hands on his hips and stared at her. “What do you think I should do?”
Mouser opened one eye, yawned, and closed it again. A mouse, no doubt the one getting into the chicken feed lately, strolled past. Clearly, it wasn’t worried it was in any sort of danger.
“You really are lazy and useless.” Jack shook his head. “You saw the mouse, didn’t you?”
The cat stood, stretched, and pounced on the intruder faster than the mouse could react. She carried her prey out the front door, with a look of contempt for Jack, and disappeared around the side of the barn.
“Why couldn’t you do that without being told?” he shouted after her.
He finished the milking and was bringing in the animals for the night when Alice stepped out the side door, a mere silhouette in the last of the day’s light, and rang the dinner bell. He waved and she disappeared back inside. He latched the barn doors behind him.
Dinner was quiet except for the tick of the parlor clock and the clink of spoons against their bowls. He missed their usual dinner conversation where they caught up on each other’s day. Her eyes were still puffy. Jack’s heart broke for her. “Your stew’s delicious.”
She pushed the plate with the last bread heel toward him. “I’m sorry there isn’t more but we’re running low on staples. Now that the quarantine is over, I can go to Erikson’s and stock up.”
Jack reached for it then hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want it? You haven’t eaten much.”
Alice set her spoon down in her barely touched bowl. “I’m not hungry. I guess I ate too much for lunch. You go ahead and finish it off. I’ll bake fresh tomorrow.”
Jack spread the piece thick with butter and used it to swipe the last of the stew from the sides of his bowl.
Alice set the remaining chocolate cake in front of him and topped off his coffee.
There was an awful lot of cake left, considering how much Harry loved it. Jack expected at least half of it to be gone, and the rest to have been sent home with his brother. He pulled her close. “Tell me what happened. You’re clearly upset about something.”
“Nothing happened.” She freed herself from his grasp and cleared the table, avoiding eye contact. “We had a lovely afternoon. Why?”
“Not true.” Jack stepped in front of her. “I saw when Harry brought you home. You’d been crying, and he looked like a tea kettle about to blow its lid.”
Alice set her dishes next to the sink. She leaned against the counter and stared out the window into the dark. Her shoulders shook. Jack gathered her in his arms.
She stepped out of reach. “Harry was offered a job in Minneapolis.”
“I thought he was going to work with Father at the bank.” Harry’s earlier threat came to mind.
“I did, too, but your father put him in touch with a friend in Minneapolis. Now Harry says we’re going to live there. I don’t want to move to Minneapolis. I like it here, on my farm, with my animals and all my friends nearby.”
“Did you tell him?”
“I did, but he got angry. He said I have no choice, as his wife I have to go where he says. He plans on selling the farm, Jack. My home.”
He wiped her cheeks with his handkerchief and offered it to her to blow her nose. “Sit.” He ran her a glass of water.
“He accused me of not loving him. He accused us . . . I can’t even say, it was so ridiculous.”
“He accused us of what?”
Alice fussed with her apron, tracing the flower pattern with one finger. Her cheeks were crimson when she looked back up at him. “He suggested there was something going on between us while he was gone.”
Harry alluded as much to him, as well. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him he was wrong, of course. I told him there is nothing inappropriate going on between us. To prove my love, I even told him about Doc’s offer of nursing school, how I turned him down because of my promise to quit after the quarantine was lifted.”
Jack sat and took her hands in his. “I told you before, you were born to nurse others.”
“You really think so? Doc does, too, but not Harry. It didn’t matter that I’d turned down the offer. All he did was holler about how no wife of his was going to work. He’d never allow it.” She started crying again.
“Forget Harry. Tell me, what do you want?”
“I never felt more useful than when I was nursing others.”
“Then, stay here.” Jack’s heart raced. “Take Doc up on his offer.”
“Harry’s already accepted the job. We’re to be married as soon as possible and move to Minneapolis. We have an appointment to set a date with the Reverend Thursday morning.”
“Harry’s not the only man who loves you, Alice.” There, he said it again. He lifted her hands and kissed each one lightly on the palm. “Stay here with me.”
Panicked, Alice’s gaze shifted about the room. Anywhere but on him. Her hands shook in his, and she pulled free. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but not a word came out. Instead, she jumped to her feet, sending her chair scraping across the floor.
Jack stood and reached for her. “Tell me you’ll stay here with me. Don’t go to Minneapolis with Harry.”
Alice closed her mouth then opened and closed it again as she stepped away. She stumbled out of the kitchen and down the hall. Her bedroom door closed with a thump.
* * *
JACK’S QUARTERS, WHILE separate from the main house, backed up to Alice’s bedroom, so the sound of her movements came through the wall. She should have been asleep, but at least the crying stopped. He set down the summer issue of The Saturday Evening Post he’d been pretending to read for the past hour. He’d be glad to see new issues now that the quarantine was over and the trains returned with the mail.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. Did he do the right thing telling her he loved her? He’d held the words in for so long, would have continued to do so for the rest of eternity if he thought she would be happy married to Harry, but his brother had shown his true stripes on their picnic. He couldn’t bear the pain he saw in Alice’s eyes because of it.
He picked up the Farmer’s Almanac and flipped to the winter weather predictions, but the words were nothing more than chicken scratches on the paper. He set it aside.
He needed to get some sleep. Turning down his lantern, he stretched out on his bed, not bothering to change. He’d barely closed his eyes when the pounding started, hard enough to shake the window glass.
“I know you’re in there, Jack.”
He stumbled from his bed and across the room, stubbing his toe on a chair leg in the dark. What the hell did his brother want at this hour of the night? “I’m coming. Keep it down.”
He felt for his cane where he’d left it leaning against the wall and opened the door. Harry fell across the threshold, knocking Jack to the floor.
“Let go of me, you wife-stealer.” Harry slurred his words, fighting to get to his feet.
“You’re drunk.” Jack pushed him off. He stood and helped his brother to his feet.
“You bet I’m drunk.” Harry pulled away from his grasp and almost fell backwards. “You’d be drunk, too, if you’d had as much as me.”
He pulled Harry into the yard and didn’t let go until they’d reached the barn. His feet were cramping in the cold and he remembered he wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Keep your voice down. You’re going to wake Alice, and I don’t think you want her to see you this way. She wouldn’t approve.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t, would she? And how would you know of what Alice would or would not approve . . . of? And why should I care? She’s going to be my wife, not yours, and she’ll approve or disapprove of whatever I tell her to approve or disapprove . . . of.” Harry swung at him but missed, spinning around from the force and falling against the hay bales.
Jack pressed his cane into Harry’s chest to hold him down. “Since you’re here, I have a word or two for you.”
Harry pushed the cane aside and tried to stand, but Jack kept him down, holding the cane tighter.
“You made Alice cry.”
Harry grabbed at the cane.
Jack tore it out of his grasp and jabbed him in the chest with it. “Did they teach you this in the army? How to make girls cry?”
“You don’t know nothin’ about the army.”
“True. But I do know a real man doesn’t make girls cry.” Jack raised his cane to bring it down on Harry’s head.
“What’s going on here?” Alice demanded. Her bare feet stuck out from beneath her coat and the hem of her nightgown. Her arms were folded close across her chest as she looked from one brother to the other.
“Harry and I were just having a conversation, when he slipped and fell.” Jack lowered his voice. “I was helping him up.”
“What are you doing here, Harry?”
“I came to tell you I’m sorry and how much I love you.”
“You’re drunk.”
“So, I’ve been told.” Harry gave Jack a sidelong glare. “I apologize for that, too. Clearly it was a mistake for me to go to Dooley’s after our little spat.”
“Clearly.”
Harry reached for Alice. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the moonlight?” She backed away.
Jack stepped between them. “You should probably go inside where it’s warm. I’ll make sure Harry gets home safe.”
“Perhaps he should stay with you in your quarters tonight.”
“That’s a splendid idea, brother dear.” Harry sneered. “It will give us a chance to continue our little conversation.”
“We’ll both stay out here in the barn.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “This way our little conversation doesn’t keep you awake.”
“All right.” Alice nodded. “I’ll see you two at breakfast.” She spun on her heels and walked briskly back to the house.
A dark anger boiled deep inside him. He didn’t speak until he was certain she was out of earshot. “You were about to tell me why you made Alice cry.” He’d never been this angry with anyone before, despite all the times he’d wanted to give his older brother a beating.
“She didn’t tell you? I thought you two were such close friends.” Harry’s taunting wasn’t helping matters.
“Oh, she told me. But I want to hear it from you, because what Alice said makes me want to beat your head in with this cane. I’m hoping your explanation will persuade me not to, for Mother’s sake.”
Harry plopped down on a pile of horse blankets. “Why don’t you start by telling me what went on between you two while I was gone.”
“You’re a fool. If you keep treating her this way, you’re going to lose the love of the most wonderful woman you could ever hope to marry. Alice Armstrong is the sweetest, kindest, person on earth, and you’re lucky to have her.” Jack waved a dismissive hand. “Get some sleep.” The entire conversation disgusted him. “And if you have to vomit—well, don’t, or you’ll be cleaning this barn in the morning. And we both know how much you hate farm work.”