things he absolutely couldn’t supply.
He vehemently thought she should not marry Albert, but when he was unprepared to provide an alternative, and she had no other option, how could he dissuade her?
“That’s a tough one,” he murmured, hedging on his response.
“I’m very nervous.”
“I realize that you are.”
“Did I ever tell you that Albert proposed once, years ago, before they left New York?”
“No, you didn’t.”
Albert had mentioned it the afternoon she’d gotten off the train in Prairie City, but James had assumed he was boastfully lying.
“I refused him,” Helen said, “because he was completely wrong for me.”
“Then your circumstances changed.”
“Yes, my parents died, and we lost our house. My father’s business was bankrupt. When Albert offered again, it seemed as if he was throwing me a lifeline.”
“I can see why it would.”
“Now that I’m here, I’m regretting my decision. I’m not cut out for such a rough existence, and I’m afraid I’ll be more of a burden than a helpmate.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re still learning your way.”
“I don’t love him,” she baldly stated, “and we have nothing in common. How can we proceed when we’re so mismatched? It’s such a mistake.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to discuss Albert, his waffling character, his lack of necessary skills, his temper and bad choices. But what good would it do?
She’d spent a couple of weeks with the Jones family, and he suspected that she’d figured it out on her own. If he validated her observations, he was setting her up for more heartbreak. If he talked her out of the marriage, and she didn’t wed Albert, what would become of her? And what about her sister?
The answers were daunting, and he had no viable solutions.
They stared and stared, and he could tell she was waiting for him to move the conversation where she’d been hoping it would go.
He was so conflicted, and he felt awful that he was. He barely knew her, had no responsibility toward her, and couldn’t be her savior.
He’d suffered his own wild fantasies about taking her from Albert, about marrying her, himself. Yet that’s all they were: wild fantasies.
James wasn’t the type to cuckold another man, to steal a bride away, then brazenly live next door with her. He couldn’t imagine insulting Florence and Walt so horridly. If he absconded with Helen, every neighbor in a hundred mile radius would be aware of the scandal. She’d never be able to show her face in town again.
Was that the life she pictured for herself? Was that the sort of stigma she could tolerate?
He didn’t think so. She couldn’t have fully reflected on the ramifications of rash conduct.
As for himself, if he extended his hand and let her grab hold, he’d have to extend the same hand to her sister. Violet Pendleton would be part of any bargain, and he just couldn’t aid her.
Mary had warned him to be careful of Violet, but he hadn’t needed her words of caution. He had two eyes and perfect vision. Violet Pendleton was marching down a destructive road, and he had no intention of adding her to his obligations.
So where did that leave them?
He wasn’t ready to marry, and he certainly wouldn’t consider it when Violet was stirred into the mix.
Though it went contrary to his every gallant instinct, he couldn’t intervene. He felt dreadful. He felt like a traitor.
“If I had any other option,” she said, “I’d take it in an instant.”
She was on tenterhooks, her yearning so powerful that it nearly knocked him over.
With the sun shining down, and the breeze riffling her dress and hair, she was so pretty. And so very brave. Brave to have broached the difficult subject. To have risked all with so little probability of success.
“Helen…” someone called from off in the distance.
She heard it, too, but continued to peer up at him. Giving him a final chance. Then another and
He vehemently thought she should not marry Albert, but when he was unprepared to provide an alternative, and she had no other option, how could he dissuade her?
“That’s a tough one,” he murmured, hedging on his response.
“I’m very nervous.”
“I realize that you are.”
“Did I ever tell you that Albert proposed once, years ago, before they left New York?”
“No, you didn’t.”
Albert had mentioned it the afternoon she’d gotten off the train in Prairie City, but James had assumed he was boastfully lying.
“I refused him,” Helen said, “because he was completely wrong for me.”
“Then your circumstances changed.”
“Yes, my parents died, and we lost our house. My father’s business was bankrupt. When Albert offered again, it seemed as if he was throwing me a lifeline.”
“I can see why it would.”
“Now that I’m here, I’m regretting my decision. I’m not cut out for such a rough existence, and I’m afraid I’ll be more of a burden than a helpmate.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re still learning your way.”
“I don’t love him,” she baldly stated, “and we have nothing in common. How can we proceed when we’re so mismatched? It’s such a mistake.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to discuss Albert, his waffling character, his lack of necessary skills, his temper and bad choices. But what good would it do?
She’d spent a couple of weeks with the Jones family, and he suspected that she’d figured it out on her own. If he validated her observations, he was setting her up for more heartbreak. If he talked her out of the marriage, and she didn’t wed Albert, what would become of her? And what about her sister?
The answers were daunting, and he had no viable solutions.
They stared and stared, and he could tell she was waiting for him to move the conversation where she’d been hoping it would go.
He was so conflicted, and he felt awful that he was. He barely knew her, had no responsibility toward her, and couldn’t be her savior.
He’d suffered his own wild fantasies about taking her from Albert, about marrying her, himself. Yet that’s all they were: wild fantasies.
James wasn’t the type to cuckold another man, to steal a bride away, then brazenly live next door with her. He couldn’t imagine insulting Florence and Walt so horridly. If he absconded with Helen, every neighbor in a hundred mile radius would be aware of the scandal. She’d never be able to show her face in town again.
Was that the life she pictured for herself? Was that the sort of stigma she could tolerate?
He didn’t think so. She couldn’t have fully reflected on the ramifications of rash conduct.
As for himself, if he extended his hand and let her grab hold, he’d have to extend the same hand to her sister. Violet Pendleton would be part of any bargain, and he just couldn’t aid her.
Mary had warned him to be careful of Violet, but he hadn’t needed her words of caution. He had two eyes and perfect vision. Violet Pendleton was marching down a destructive road, and he had no intention of adding her to his obligations.
So where did that leave them?
He wasn’t ready to marry, and he certainly wouldn’t consider it when Violet was stirred into the mix.
Though it went contrary to his every gallant instinct, he couldn’t intervene. He felt dreadful. He felt like a traitor.
“If I had any other option,” she said, “I’d take it in an instant.”
She was on tenterhooks, her yearning so powerful that it nearly knocked him over.
With the sun shining down, and the breeze riffling her dress and hair, she was so pretty. And so very brave. Brave to have broached the difficult subject. To have risked all with so little probability of success.
“Helen…” someone called from off in the distance.
She heard it, too, but continued to peer up at him. Giving him a final chance. Then another and
Similar Books
