Stealing Jake

CHAPTER Twelve



“Mary’s too sick to go. I’d better stay here too.”

“Stuff and nonsense. It’s just a little cold. A day or two and she’ll be fit as a fiddle. Besides, Mrs. Warren will be here any minute. We’ll be fine.”

Livy twisted her hands in her apron. “Mrs. Brooks—”

“Hush, child. Mrs. Russell is looking forward to your visit. You can’t disappoint her.” The woman gave her a little shove. “Now, go get dressed.”

Livy trudged down the hall to the bedroom she shared with Mary. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of riding alone all the way to the Russell homestead with Jake, spending the day with his family, and making the return trip.

She couldn’t let herself get close to him. She couldn’t let herself care or entertain thoughts of a future with him. She was a nobody from Chicago, a former pickpocket. He was a good Christian man, raised in Chestnut, where everybody knew and respected him and his family. They’d never accept her as one of their own.

She closed her eyes.

God, forgive me for such thoughts, but people would reject me if they learned the truth. I can’t bear to get close to Jake or his family only to have them spurn me because of my past.

The butterflies magnified, their wings beating so fast Livy thought she’d be sick right there on the spot. But she didn’t have time to calm herself or figure out some way not to go.

Jake arrived at that moment.

Livy wished him a happy birthday, blushing slightly with the familiarity, and accepted his hand as he helped her into the wagon. She appreciated his running commentary on his family all the way to the farm. As long as he talked, she didn’t have to.

“My parents were some of the first to settle this part of the country. They came in the forties, a few years after the incident with Black Hawk.” Jake paused and glanced at her. “Are you cold?”

She burrowed deeper into the thick coat Mrs. Brooks had insisted she wear under her threadbare cloak. “No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, it’s a nice kind of cold if that makes you feel better.” She smiled, gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering. Surrounded by buildings all her life, she hadn’t realized how the wind could slice through even the thickest of coats out in the open countryside.

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll accept that. Am I boring you with tales of my family? I figured you’d want to know a little about them before you met everybody.”

“I enjoy hearing about your family. You were telling me about your parents.”

Jake rested his boot against the footboard on the wagon, looking relaxed and not the least bit cold. “My father died two years ago. I think Miss Maisie mentioned it the other night, didn’t she?”

Livy nodded, not wanting to interrupt him.

Jake told her a little more about each of his siblings. “My oldest sister and her husband are expecting their first child any day now.”

A pang hit Livy in the stomach. Why did the mention of an impending birth bring the memories back so suddenly? Thoughts of the tattered rags she’d used, the filthy water, the screams of pain and terror, then silence as her sister and the babe both perished. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Are you all right?” Jake placed a gloved hand on her arm. “What’d I say?”

Livy shook her head. How much could she tell him without dredging up more memories? Without revealing the utter horror of her life in Chicago?

“I . . . I lost a sister in childbirth.” She looked away.

He squeezed her arm just enough that she felt the pressure through the sheepskin coat. “I’m sorry. You must have been close.”

“She was my only family.”

“I should have mentioned it sooner.” He slapped the reins against the horse’s backs and cleared his throat. “My sister and her husband will be at Ma’s today. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Livy attempted a smile.

But would she?



* * *





“I wonder where they are.” Jake’s mother busied herself at the stove, then peered out the kitchen window for the umpteenth time. She threw an apologetic look at Livy. “I’m sorry to be such a worrywart, Livy, but when you have children of your own, you’ll understand.”

“Oh, Mrs. Russell, I understand. I worry plenty about the younger children at the orphanage.”

Jake took a sip of coffee and grinned at Livy. “Ma takes the art of worrying to a higher level. There’s nothing she can’t worry to the bone. Like whether or not Tommy’s socks match, or if one braid is higher than the other one, or—”

“Oh, hush, Jake.”

He laughed and dodged the kitchen towel his mother snapped at him, happy he’d brought a smile to her face. Livy’s wide-eyed gaze had him wondering if she and Mrs. Brooks ever teased each other.

“Let’s eat.” His mother turned to the stove. “They’ll be here soon enough, I guess.”

Jake sat at the head of the table in his father’s place, his mother at the other end, close to the stove, where she could hop up and grab the coffeepot or dessert. He sniffed. Peach cobbler if he didn’t miss his guess. One of his favorites. Next to brown sugar cake.

He groaned as a familiar face came to mind. Not the best thing to be thinking right now. He glanced at Livy. Now if she could bake a brown sugar cake, he’d be a happy man.

“I’m sorry Mary couldn’t come today, Mrs. Russell. She really wanted to but didn’t feel up to getting out in the cold.”

“I understand. We’ll do this again, as soon as she can come.” Mrs. Russell glanced at Tommy and the girls. “When everyone’s feeling better, all the children could come out, and we could enjoy a day of sledding. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tommy?”

Tommy shoved a spoonful of peas in his mouth and grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I ain’t seen Georgie in forever.” He chewed and swallowed before muttering, “It’s all that ol’ Vulture ’Vinia’s fault.”

Jake almost spewed coffee across the entire table but managed to swallow it instead. Livy hid a snicker behind her hand. Her eyes met his, and they were filled with hysterical laughter.

“Tommy!” His mother frowned. “I won’t have that kind of talk at my table. Hear me?”

“Sorry,” Tommy mumbled around his next mouthful, not sounding the least bit repentant.

Jake’s mother cast him a beseeching look. He turned to his little brother, wincing at the bulge in the child’s jaw. “Tommy, quit talking with your mouth full or Ma’s going to make you leave the table. And if she doesn’t, I will. Is that understood?”

Tommy’s eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth. Jake shook his head, and Tommy remembered to swallow before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Jake nodded.

“Livy, would you like some more pota—” His mother’s eyes grew wide at the sound of pounding hooves and a jingling harness careening into the side yard. “What in the world?”

“Mrs. Russell! Mrs. Russell!”

At the sound of his brother-in-law’s frantic voice, Jake jumped up, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. The door flew open, and Charlie rushed inside, eyes terrified, hair wild. “It’s Susie. She’s . . . she’s having the baby. I don’t know what to do.”

Jake’s gaze locked with Livy’s. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her hands gripped the table, turning her knuckles white. Her sister had died in childbirth. Suddenly, birthing babies didn’t seem so simple after all. A full-fledged panic hit him square in the chest. What were they going to do? Both girls started crying, and even Tommy looked like he might burst into tears. Jake turned to his mother. “Ma?”

“How far apart are her pains, Charlie?” His mother, who made worry into an art, calmly took off her apron and reached for her coat, looking as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Uh, five minutes. No. Ten.” Charlie ran both hands through his hair, making it stand up on end. The man, crazy with fear, didn’t even have a hat. “I don’t know. They’re close though. It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“No. This baby is right on time.” She hugged the girls. “Hush, now. It’ll be fine. Remember what I told you? Clean up the kitchen and keep Tommy occupied. Before you know it, you’ll have a little niece or nephew. Charlie will come and tell you as soon as he can, okay?”

The girls sniffed and wiped their tears. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Mrs. Russell?” Charlie stood in the open doorway, letting in the bitter cold, but nobody seemed to pay him any attention, least of all Jake’s mother.

She turned to Livy and gave her a quick hug and a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry to leave like this, Livy, but I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll . . . I’ll be praying,” Livy whispered.

“Livy?” Jake moved to her side, reaching out to hold her upright. Her face looked as pale as his mother’s biscuit dough rising in the morning. She gripped his forearm and leaned against him.

Shell-shocked blue eyes met his before ricocheting toward his mother. She shook her head. “I’ll be okay. Take care of everybody else.”

One last hug and his mother hurried out the door.

Livy insisted on helping the girls clean up the kitchen, but Jake knew her heart wasn’t in it. She tried to act cheerful, but he could tell the news of the baby’s impending birth upset her.

An hour later he bundled her up and headed to town, promising the girls he’d be back as soon as he could to help them with evening chores.

Halfway to town, he cleared his throat and addressed the matter at hand. “Susie and the baby will be fine; you’ll see.”

“How can you be sure?” Her hands fluttered until she clasped them tight in her lap.

“I’m not.” He squeezed her fingers. “I just have to believe.”

“I believed, but it didn’t do any good.”

His heart lurched at the anguish on her face. Tears shimmered on her lashes. He stopped the team and pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin.

“I did everything I could for my sister, and she still died. The baby was so tiny. A little girl. She . . . she never even took her first breath. There was nothing I could do.”

Jake held her at arm’s length and searched her face. “You attended her? Alone?”

She nodded. Her blue gaze searched his; her tears spilled over. “I must have done something wrong. What if it was my fault they died?”

“Shh.” Jake used his gloved thumbs to wipe her tears away and pulled her to him again, cradling her against him. “Please don’t cry. I know you did everything humanly possible to save her. It wasn’t your fault.”

Jake held her as she cried. He closed his eyes and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair, relishing the way she fit perfectly in his arms as if she was made for him and him only.

Never anyone else.

The intensity of his raw emotion shocked him, and he tightened his hold.

A long while later, she pulled away, her cheeks blooming. “I’m all right now.” She took a deep shuddering breath and reached to smooth her hair back. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

“Don’t worry.” Jake tilted her chin up. “I’ll let you know how they’re doing as soon as I can, okay?”

“Thank you.” She bit her lip and her chin trembled.

“Now don’t get all teary-eyed on me again.”

She sniffed, a faint smile brightening her face. “I won’t.”

He kissed her on the forehead and gave her one last hug, then picked up the reins. “Giddyap.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence. The streets were practically deserted on this cold Sunday afternoon. Jake stopped the team in front of the orphanage and helped Livy down. He held her by the shoulders, willing her to look at him.

She lifted her eyes, a questioning look on her face.

His gaze went to her lips before rising to capture her misty blue eyes again. He pulled her toward him. “Livy, I—”

“Not yet. Please.”

She touched his face, the tips of her fingers featherlight against his shadowed jaw. Then she drew out of his arms, turned, and hurried toward the front porch.

Jake watched her go, his heart heavy. Did she feel anything for him? She’d said, “Not yet.” That meant something, didn’t it? She opened the door and glanced back at him, wiggling her fingers in farewell, a soft smile on her lips. Jake jumped into the wagon, slapped the reins against the horses’ backs, and filled his lungs with a gulp of fresh, cold air.

A wave, a smile, and a “Not yet.”

That left a lot of hope for the future.