“I’m never going to follow you to Fort Glenbow and darn your socks and raise your brood of children and hunt moose.”
“And I am never going to live in a city of smoke and grime where the all the sounds of nature are shut out by trolleys and sirens,” Benny countered.
“But you’ll be seeing me again?” A whisper infused with hope.
“But I’ll be seeing you again. Someday,” he said with finality. A beat later she heard the door click.
Merinda didn’t have two minutes to let the world dance around her before Mrs. Malone brought Jasper in, his face eight shades of melancholy.
“I saw you through the window,” Jasper said before Merinda could string a cohesive thought through her befuddled brain.
“Oh.” Merinda was wondering why flames brandished her cheeks as his blue eyes bore into her.
Jasper straightened his shoulders and gripped his hat so tightly his knuckles whitened. He cleared his throat and stood erect as if a steel pole fixed him in place. “A-are you going to marry him, Merinda?” His voice broke three times with adolescent uncertainty.
“Can you imagine my marrying anyone?” Merinda asked lightly.
“The way you look at him. The way he held you… ”
“Jasper, close your mouth. You’re gaping like a fish. You’re also pale as a ghost! I’ll have Mrs. Malone bring you a sandwich.”
“I… I think it’s important we talk about this, Merinda.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is! I always just thought you weren’t much of the romantic type, which is why… why… ”
“Jasper.” They were treading in dangerous water, and though she knew what came next, she tried to cough it off. Shrug it off. Stroll across the room. “I’m sorry we quarreled.”
“I know.” He smiled away any sentence she could conjure. “I forgive you.”
Merinda sank into her chair and stared into the empty fireplace. “What a case, Jasper. This one. It branded itself on all of us, didn’t it? Me, you, DeLuca and Jem, Benny perhaps most of all.”
Merinda could still sense Benny near. She hadn’t had a chance to process his touch or his leaving or the fact that she might never see him again. And here was Jasper dropping into Jem’s usual chair and piercing her with blue eyes so wide and expectant. Waiting. She was sure he had stilled his heart, and it wouldn’t beat again until she said something in return.
“Answer me. Are you going off with Benny Citrone, Merinda?”
Merinda watched his heart catch in his throat. He was diminished somehow despite his stature, and she knew he was probably grabbing at the bravest moment of his life.
She kept her voice light. “I wouldn’t dash after Benny and live in a tent in the Yukon.”
Jasper shook his head. “No. I didn’t suspect so. But you love him?”
Merinda waved him off. “I don’t… ”
“Then I will wait for you.”
“For what? Wait for me to drop into your arms and swoon and let the world fall away? For me to traipse after you like Jem runs after DeLuca? That’s not the girl you want me to be.”
He looked her over, appraising her, and she saw her worth reflected in the sheen of his eyes. He treasured her, despite every flaw, despite every rough edge. He cherished every imperfection. It startled her. She should rise to be worthy of this unadulterated love, shouldn’t she? Heat flamed her face. She was careless in undermining Jasper’s passion. His authority. She didn’t deserve the way he looked at her.
She swallowed. “Mrs. Malone,” she called, even as Jasper’s eyes implored her. It would have been easier if he had plunged a knife into her chest. “Please show Constable Forth out.”
Jem wondered why the stars didn’t fall from their heavens around her. For she was safe and he was safe, and they were back in the city that seemed safer somehow, maybe because it was their own.
Jem interlaced her fingers with Ray’s. He was going to go to the Hog and start typing up an adventure in Chicago. She was going to revel in Mrs. Malone’s cooking. Jasper had orchestrated Viola and Luca’s transportation back to Toronto, and they were currently settled in with his mother. “You need to stop thinking that you failed Viola and Luca the way your father failed you and your mother.”
Ray’s ear thrummed. “I don’t want you to make me feel better about this. There is nothing you can say, Jemima. I murdered him.”
“Viola and Luca would not have survived without you,” Jem said adamantly. “Her situation is not a result of your inability to care for her, and it kills you. But it isn’t your fault. And it’s not our story.”
“Jemima, please… ”