A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(11)

But it wasn’t the haberdashery that held his focus like a moth to a candle. It was the millinery next door, the sign still new-paint bright.

Ladies Millinery, Hats and Notions.

Just what Francine had always dreamed of running. Just what he had promised to build for her someday. They’d already laid out the plans for it together by lamplight on his parents’ dining room table, full of laughter and hope and young love. And after RJ had asked her to marry him, he’d begun laying other plans with the added expertise of his budding engineering degree. This time, for a house. A home for them, for their family.

But that was before. Before his parents died. Before he lost his eye. Before he learned that sometimes, love is no match for time and pain and distance and war.

A faint jingle across the street, and RJ’s gaze shot to a young woman approaching the shop. Her fashionable hat and bustled gown gave her figure a foreign shape, but he knew that piquant face under the hat, those dark curls.

RJ stepped farther under the tree’s shadow, his heart thudding painfully. He couldn’t let her see him. Not now, probably not ever.

Keys in her gloved hand, Francine unlocked the millinery door and stepped inside. The door closed with a smart slap behind her.

RJ sucked in a breath, then turned and headed back the way he’d come, hands shoved in his pockets.

So. That was that.

Back down the familiar yet foreign streets, back up the stairs of his childhood home. He ignored Esmay’s feeble attempts to engage him, Jemmy’s understanding glance. In his room, he yanked the faded plans he’d drawn for his and Francine’s house from his desk, crumpled them in his fists, and stuffed them into the bin.

I can’t stay here. The thought poleaxed him, knocking him back to sit on the edge of the bed.

What do you mean, I can’t stay here? he demanded of his mind. This is home.

No longer.

He scrubbed his scalp with shaking fingers. Looking up, he saw his dreams flutter out the window.

RJ drew Anders’s letter from his chest pocket. He considered writing back, but he’d get there about the same time as the letter. Instead, he would send a telegram from the train station. And inquire about tickets while he was at it.

Anger raged through his veins. He had no fiancée, no one to build a new life with. He had no home, not here, not now. He’d lost his eye. He’d lost his life.

He had to get out of here.



“But you just got here.” Esmay shook her head, her tears gathering again.

It had been nearly a week now, a long week, but RJ ignored his sister’s words this time. There was nothing for him here. He’d tried to make her see that, and he would not try again.

“That—that hussy,” Esmay spat. “I wanted to slap her silly when she announced she was getting married. Just as if her decision had no impact on anyone else at all.”

“Now, now.” George tried pouring oil on the troubled waters of his wife’s fury. “And when will you be returning?” He stared at RJ. “I can’t hold that position I wrote you about forever, you know.”

“I don’t know. You better find someone else.” RJ hugged his sister. “Thank you, Esmay. Captain and I will catch the westbound train this afternoon.”

“Can’t you stay?” Emmaline asked, a tear leaking from her hazel eyes. “Ma said . . .”

RJ swallowed and shook his head. How could one little girl have trapped his heart so quickly? “No, I can’t.”

Her cry near to strangled him. He hugged his niece, then heard Esmay comforting Emmaline as he strode toward the front door.

“You’ll write?” Esmay asked as he slung his saddlebags onto Captain, the blood bay stallion who’d waited for him here at home. “I’ll keep praying for you.”

RJ nodded. How to say he was sorry? Sorry he was no longer the man he had been, sorry he couldn’t stay, sorry he no longer believed in the God she would pray to.

He swung up onto Captain and reined the horse around. “Barker, you stay here.”

The dog sank to his haunches.

RJ forced the words past the boulder in his throat. “Love you, Esmay. All of you.”

Leaning slightly forward, he signaled Captain into an immediate canter. A sharp bark made him glance over his shoulder. Barker was tearing after them with Esmay waving him on. So much for the dog obeying orders, but then, why should RJ expect that? He hadn’t the energy today to argue with man or beast.

The westbound train would leave at twelve forty. Jehosephat had already delivered RJ’s trunk to the train station. Jemmy had made sure he had food in his saddlebags for the two-day train ride. A full canteen hung from one of the buckles on the saddle, as well as his rifle and scabbard, and a bedroll wrapped in his slicker was tied behind. He’d heard he could buy additional food at train stops if he needed, so he wasn’t concerned.

At the station, he led Captain into a cattle car, Barker right on his heels.

“No, I’ll stay with my horse,” he told the conductor who checked his ticket. “I see we have a barrel of water, and there is hay, so we’ll be good.”

“But, sir . . .” The conductor stopped at the look RJ sent him. “As you wish. You can open this door from the inside if you desire.”

Welcome darkness flooded over them as the conductor rolled the door closed. RJ tethered his horse and sank onto a bale of hay, leaning against the wooden side of the car. Captain nickered, and RJ reached out to stroke his inquiring muzzle.