Redemption (11 page)

I
F HE’D BEEN ABLE TO LAY
his hands on her, he’d have shaken the stuffing out of her. Jake sat in the parlor and glared at the piano in the far corner. It loomed there like a great black beast, a presence he could not escape. He’d managed to ignore it for almost three years, once he’d been able to toss the sheets over it and hide it from sight.

It wasn’t bad enough the woman had uncovered it before the wedding and left it in plain sight afterward. Now she’d offered it as a bribe to the children of the town to invade his privacy and tramp their way into his parlor. There was no way in heaven he was about to allow such a thing to take place.

There wasn’t a smidgen of guilt to be found in his contemplation of the whole situation. Except perhaps for the way he’d allowed her to walk away last evening. He’d watched her retreat to her room, noted each step she took on the wide staircase, and felt uneasy at his own rude behavior.

Don’t be dense
. He couldn’t believe he’d said such a thing to her. Once more, he’d spoken words he’d give a whole lot to eat.

As it was, he merely wished he could retract the statement with polite words and genteel phrasing. How did one go about telling an intelligent woman that she was far from dense, that, in fact, she probably was equipped with the sharpest mind he’d ever made acquaintance with?

The fact remained that he had no desire to cope with children who were wanting to put their grubby hands on his piano. Where had that come from?
His piano
. The instrument he’d relegated to an imaginary trash heap. He had no interest in ever touching those keys again. Music was gone from his soul, as was the woman who’d made his life a living melody.

You were born to make music
.

He looked up uneasily, certain for just a moment that he’d heard a woman’s voice whisper in his ear. His eyes were drawn to the piano and he blinked in surprise. The lid was pushed back, the keys uncovered, the ivory gleaming richly in the sunlight from the open window.

When had Alicia opened the lid? Surely not since church was over. She’d gone right to the kitchen upon returning, leaving her hat and gloves on the staircase to be taken up to her room later on. Jake shook his head; his memory must be dulled. And yet, he would have sworn that the keys had not been exposed earlier today.

It was past time for him to make amends, he decided.
He rolled from the room and out onto the porch. Alicia knelt beside the steps on a fold towel pulling weeds. “You’ll get your dress dirty that way,” he said quietly.

She looked up and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. Her hand left a smudge of dirt behind and he smiled at the effect, which made her seem more vulnerable, he decided. “It needs washing, anyway,” she told him, then bent to her chore.

“You’ll get in trouble with the ladies, working on Sunday,” he said.

“And you think I care?” she asked. “That’s the least of my worries.”

“What’s the greatest of them?”

She gave him a sharp look. “Trying to learn how to be a wife to you, Jake McPherson. I fear I’m not doing a very good job of it.”

“You’ll do,” he said. His mouth twitched, the words he felt compelled to speak burning his tongue. “I owe you an apology, Alicia. You’re probably one of the most intelligent persons I’ve ever known. You’re far from dense, and I had no right to speak to you the way I did.”

She settled back on her heels and wiped her face again, this time leaving dirt on her right cheek. “Well, well,” she intoned. “How do I rate such kind words?”

He felt like squirming. The schoolteacher in her
was obvious in the arch look she shot in his direction, its effect spoiled just a bit by the smudges on her face. “Take it or leave it,” he said. “It’s the best apology you’ll get from me.”

She smiled, her face coming alive as her lips curved. “I’ll take it,” she said. “I fear I may never get another. Apologies are pretty scarce around here.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a smart mouth, Mrs. McPherson?”

“Yes, now that you mention it.” She bent to her weeding. “I find it a good method by which to protect myself from hurt.”

“Have you been hurt often?” He really wanted to know, he discovered. That Alicia was so vulnerable was a surprise to him. She’d seemed capable, sure of herself, and certainly efficient in all she did.

She looked up at him and her eyes were dark with pain. “More than you can imagine.” Her mouth tightened. “And that’s all I have to say on the subject.”

M
ONDAY MORNING DAWNED
early, with Alicia in the kitchen at daybreak. Jake heard the skillet scrape across the range top and then smelled bacon frying, the scent filtering through to his bedroom. By the time he’d managed to get himself decently clean and into his clothing, he heard her call Jason from the foot of the stairs. By the time the sun was crowning
the eastern horizon, he smelled the bracing aroma of coffee.

This having a wife was going to come in handy, he thought, rolling across his room to open the door. Alicia was in the hallway, and looked up at him in surprise from her spot on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “I thought you’d hired a housekeeper to keep the floors clean.”

“I did,” she answered, “but it looks like Jason tracked dirt all the way across the hall yesterday. I’m just wiping it up.”

“If he made the mess, let him take care of it,” Jake said. “It’ll make him think twice before he does it again.”

She grinned at him. “Now, that’s the sort of thing I like to hear.”

“What is?” Jason came down the stairs, his boots clattering on each step.

“Do you see what Alicia is doing?” Jake asked him.

Jason peered over the banister. “Looks like she’s washin’ up stuff.”

“Your stuff,” Jake said sternly. “This is the last time she’ll be cleaning up behind you, young man. If you can’t remember to wipe your feet at the door, you can just plan on taking care of your own messes.”

Jason lifted one boot and peered at the bottom, then the other. “They’re clean now,” he said.

“And well they should be,” Jake told him. “The dirt is scattered from the back door to the stairway. We won’t talk about this again, son. You’ll not make extra work for Alicia. She has enough to do just cooking and making things nice for us. Not to mention going out to teach school all day.”

“Yes, sir,” Jason said sheepishly. “I won’t forget again.”

“I suppose you think that’s going to mend all your fences,” Alicia said quietly as she smiled up at Jake. She tilted her head to one side as if she considered the idea. “You know, it might very well go a long way toward doing just that very thing.” And then her smile broadened and she laughed aloud.

It was strange, he thought, how laughter could change a woman’s appearance. It made her eyes sparkle and put color in her cheeks, and Alicia’s smiling face was no exception.

T
HE DAY SEEMED LONG
with both Alicia and Jason gone. He’d not noticed the slow passage of time before, but on this Monday, he thought the clock would never move its hands at more than a snail’s crawl. School was out at three-thirty, and by three-thirty-five, he was watching the front walk, waiting for Alicia’s now-familiar figure to come through the gate. He’d be glad to see the last day of the school year arrive on Friday.

Jason appeared first, two children accompanying him, and he burst through the front door with a clatter of boots against the wooden floor. Then he skidded to a stop and returned to the rug Alicia had placed on the threshold for his convenience. “I’m wiping my feet, Pa,” he called out.

Jake was torn. A smile was twitching at his lips at Jason’s words, but his spine was stiff with irritation as he heard the voices of all three children just outside the parlor door. And then a small girl poked her head into the room.

Her eyes were wide with apprehension, and she hesitated as if unsure of her welcome. “Mr. McPherson?”

“That’s my name,” he returned gruffly.

She stood straighter in the doorway. “My teacher said if we came by you’d let us see your piano.”

“Did she, now?”
Damn Alicia
, anyway! She had no right.

The little girl—had Alicia said her name was Catherine?—backed away tentatively. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” she whispered, and Jake was struck by shame.

“It’s all right,” he said quickly. “Come on in.” Even an old grouch such as he had no excuse to frighten off a little girl.

Catherine stepped closer. “You don’t look like a hermit to me,” she said candidly. “I think you look like a nice man.”

“Do you?” Probably his recent haircut and the shave he’d indulged in this morning might have something to do with that, he thought. “So, you want to see my piano, do you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said politely, peering beyond him to where the black monster sat.

“Can Toby come in, too?” she asked.

“I suppose he’ll have to,” Jake conceded, and then watched as the boy appeared from around the corner, where he’d obviously been hiding. “I guess you want to see the piano, too,” Jake said to him.

“Yes, sir.” Toby was of an age with Jason, Jake thought. The boy approached the piano, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor, as if he approached a sacred shrine. His eyes shone with anticipation and he tucked his hands in his pockets, as though he feared they might betray him by reaching to touch the ivory keys.

“Have you ever played on a piano?” Jake asked, recognizing the boy’s yearning.

“Yes, sir. The one at church. Mrs. Howard gave me some lessons, but I didn’t do very good at it. She only knows the stuff in the hymnal. She said we couldn’t play anything else in the church.”

“What do you want to play?” Jake asked reluctantly.

“Real music. Not just songs that people sing words to.” Jake only nodded.

“Can I touch the keys?” Toby asked softly.

Could he allow it? Could he bear the sound of hammer striking string? Would he be able to contain his anger if those keys should once more resound with the clear, pure tones he’d once cherished?

He’d put Rena and all she represented into storage when she’d been carried from this house for the last time. She’d been the inspiration for the music he wrote, the melodies he’d played. Once that dear, beloved spirit had left him bereft, he’d shut out all the joy she’d brought to his life.

Now this child stood before him and asked him to allow those keys to respond to the touch of his fingers. Jake found that he had no defense against the boy’s beseeching look.

“Go ahead, Toby,” he said, gritting his teeth against the pain to come.

The boy walked slowly toward the piano, lifting the bench to pull it from beneath the keyboard, and then settled himself on the shiny surface. He looked quickly at Jake, as if asking final permission, and Jake found himself nodding acquiescence.

The boy’s right hand lifted and his fingers touched the keys, one at a time. He tried out a simple melody, and his head tilted to one side as if he heard a whole orchestra providing accompaniment to the simple tune he played. His left hand lifted to touch the lower octaves and he added harmony to the mix, his right hand
moving now more rapidly, his fingers agile as they skimmed over the keyboard.

Then he stopped, placing his hands in his lap and turning his head in Jake’s direction, as though offering an apology for taking liberties with the instrument.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, and walked past Jake to the doorway, his eyes wide, his expression stunned as though he had experienced some wondrous thing.

“Toby.” Jake spoke the name softly, unaware of the other two children who stood silently by. “Tell your mother I’ll give you lessons.”

“Me, too?” Catherine asked eagerly, stepping closer to Jake’s chair, her gaze moving uneasily to the empty spaces where his legs should be.

Could he do this thing? And then he looked again at the boy who lingered in the doorway, hope alive on his narrow face, joy flooding his countenance. How could he not?

“Yes, you, too,” he told Catherine. “Now, off with both of you. I’ll have Mrs. McPherson tell you when you may come again.”

Alicia appeared behind the children, her eyes meeting his anxiously. She touched Catherine’s head briefly, brushed her hand across Toby’s shoulder and smiled at Jason. For Jake, she reserved a look of restraint. He could not bear that she allowed him to intimidate her in this way.

“Come in, Alicia,” he said, offering her his hand. She approached and he tugged at her, nudging her toward the couch. “Sit down. We need to talk about this.”

“I
WAS OUT OF LINE
, J
AKE
. I’m sorry.” He thought for a moment that a tear glittered against her cheek, but she turned her head away. “I thought about this at school today, and realized I had no right to interfere the way I did. It was too late to stop Catherine and Toby from coming over, but it’s not too late to put a halt to the whole lesson notion.”

He nodded an agreement as she glanced his way. “You’re right about one thing,” he told her. “To my way of thinking you were interfering in something you didn’t understand.”

She frowned. “Maybe.”

Making Alicia understand his feelings suddenly seemed important. “I don’t know if this will make sense to you,” he said. “In fact, I’m not sure anyone but Rena had any concept of what music meant in my life. When Rena married me she should have been the prime focus of my life. I should have set aside all else
for her sake. But the music always came first when things were rolling with my job.”

“You blame yourself for not paying enough attention to her, don’t you?” she asked.

Jake shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s all of it. For some reason her death and the grief I felt turned me away from music. I’d been so wrapped up in my work I hadn’t been aware of how sick she really was at the end. If I hadn’t devoted myself to the schedule I was setting up for the coming year, if I’d been more available to Rena, things might have been different.”

“Did she feel neglected?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t seem to, but Rena had taken second place her whole life. Even as a child, she was not the favored one. Then she devoted herself to me and I took advantage of her.”

“So you punished yourself by turning away from music.”

“I don’t think that’s altogether true. I just lost interest in it.”

She pressed her lips together, refusing to offer a rebuttal.

He spun his chair from her and approached the piano. His hands were not gentle as he closed the lid over the keys. “I can’t play. No matter what, I can’t put my fingers on those keys, ever again.”

“No one has asked you to, have they?”

You were born to make music
. The words rang again in his mind. “I’m not sure,” he said quietly, dropping his head, feeling the pain of loss. Not so much for the woman he’d loved and then lost, although she had lent beauty to his work by her presence in his life. But for the threads of melody that wove his days and nights into a tapestry of brilliant hues—the music that spoke to his soul. The two were so closely interwoven it was difficult to separate them.

He only knew that yesterday, in this room, he’d heard Rena speak to him. Alicia would surely think him mad if he told her. A thought struck him and he looked up at her. “Did you open the lid over the keys?”

She shook her head. “I dusted the piano Saturday morning and wiped the keys with a damp cloth, but I haven’t touched it since.”

“Not today, but yesterday,” he persisted.

“No, Jake. I haven’t touched it. Did you ask Jason?”

“He wouldn’t go near it. He knows better.” There was no getting around it. He’d have to tell her what happened and leave himself open to her scorn. “When I came back in here on Sunday, the lid was open. It hadn’t been lifted since I closed it after Rena’s funeral.” He hesitated and continued. She might as well know the whole foolish story.

“I heard a voice, Alicia. I’d have sworn that someone was in the room with me.”

She turned pale and bit at her lip, and he hesitated before he continued. “The voice said, ‘You were born to make music.’” He sighed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. “You’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t believe in spirits haunting those they’ve left behind, but I wonder if some part of Rena isn’t still alive in your mind, Jake, and that part of her is able to communicate with you.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I feared telling you, lest you laugh.”

“I wouldn’t do that. And if you’ll listen, I’d like to say something to you.”

“Anything.”

“When I went upstairs, to choose my bedroom…do you remember that day?”

He nodded and she continued. “I heard a voice. Not an audible voice, but a whispering sound that I understood as well as if you had been standing there speaking to me.”

“What did it say?” He felt his heart pump.

“‘You’re going to be his wife, and you can do whatever you please in this house.’” She swallowed as if a lump threatened to choke her as she said the words aloud. “I swear to you, Jake. It happened.”

He was silent, attempting to absorb her words. Then he nodded. “I believe you, Alicia. I don’t have the answers, but I think Rena would have wanted me to
marry you. I also know she would never have wanted me to close up that piano the way I did. I can’t do the rest,” he said. “I don’t want to play, and I don’t have the heart to work with the opera house, but perhaps I can work with those two children.”

She closed her eyes and he watched as tears spilled from beneath her lids and made silver trails down her cheeks. “Don’t cry, please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to make you unhappy.”

“You haven’t!” she said. “I’m just so relieved to know that I didn’t botch things with my meddling.”

“Don’t ask any more of me than this, Alicia,” he warned her. “I’ll do as you asked in this one thing. But don’t push me.”

“All right,” she said, wiping her eyes with her fingertips.

“Where’s your hankie?” he asked, then watched as she groped in her pocket for the white square of linen. “Shall I give you a hand with supper?”

“I thought we’d make stew out of the leftover beef roast,” she said. “It won’t take long to prepare. I’ll just mix up biscuits and put them on top and then bake it while I set the table and—”

He held up his hand. “Whoa,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll be thinking you’re entirely self-sufficient. I’m probably going to be organized to death. I don’t think you leave anything to chance, do you?”

She blushed and shook her head. “I try not to, Jake. I’m used to a schedule. If I don’t stay up-to-date I lose track of my students. My life is too full not to be organized.”

“I suspect I’ll get used to it,” he said, shaking his head. “Now, before you begin, why don’t you go up and change your clothes and get comfortable. I’ll cut up the meat for you and get things started best I can. Will that help?”

She shot him a grateful look. “More than you know. I do like a man who’s at home in the kitchen.”

“How many men have you liked, ma’am?” he asked smartly, and was gratified when she blushed anew.

“None, to be honest,” she said. And then she left the room and he heard her feet touching the stairs as she climbed to the second floor.

N
ONE, TO BE HONEST
. Far from the truth, Alicia thought as she entered her bedroom. Indeed, up to this time she’d not felt desire for any particular man; but Jake was different. She’d felt drawn to him from the start, had known for the first time in her life the thrill of touching a man, even though that touch had not even been under romantic circumstances.

Then, on their wedding day, his hands had been warm against her own, his lips had kissed her with tenderness, as though he had recognized her reticence.
Little did Jake know how many times she’d replayed that kiss in her mind.

He would never know, she determined. For she would lose his respect if he knew of her yearning to discover the textures of his skin, to feel his whiskers against her cheek, to hold his dark head against her breast.

She changed her clothes, pulling an old housedress over her head, one that hung in a shapeless drape about her body. The mirror reflected her image and she frowned. There wasn’t much to work with, but she ought to at least make the most of what was available. With that thought in mind, she pulled off the dress and sought out another, a wrapper she’d first thought might be too intimate a piece of apparel to wear in Jake’s presence.

Brightly colored flowers dotted the fabric and tucks defined the bosom, and a sash fitted neatly around her middle. She looked again into the mirror; it would do. At least the colors brought new life to her skin, and for that she was grateful.

He was in the kitchen when she went back downstairs, and she set to with a will, taking over the chore of putting a stew into the oven. It would be a simple meal, but Jake seemed happy with whatever she put before him. The man was easy to please…in some areas, at least.

“When can I tell Toby and Catherine to return for lessons?” she asked lightly.

“You kinda snuck that in, didn’t you?” he asked, and she turned her head to catch a grin on his face.

“I’m not sneaky,” she protested. “I only want to know what to tell them.”

His grin faded. “Have you any idea of the talent that boy holds in his hands?”

She thought for a moment. “I know he seems to have perfect pitch. Sings like an angel, in fact. And his sense of rhythm is superb.”

Jake nodded. “All of that is good to know. What I’m referring to is his gifted playing. He said he’d taken lessons from Mrs. Howard, but she was only willing to teach him hymns.”

Real music
, Toby had answered the question of what he preferred to play. As if Jake would surely understand his meaning, the boy had spoken the words with reverence. In so doing, little did Toby know he had won a place in Jake’s heart.

“Hymns are fine,” Alicia said, interrupting Jake’s reflection.

“Yes, they are,” Jake agreed. “I’m sure that Catherine will do well one day as a church pianist. She seems like a competent enough child. I’m sure she can learn to read notes without too much trouble.”

“Your prejudice is showing,” Alicia said quietly as
she stood at the table and prepared the dough for the biscuits.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked Jake, when she was finished at the stovetop, leaving the stew to simmer.

“If you’ll have some with me.”

He was almost too agreeable, she decided, as if he wanted to keep this day on an even keel, as though he actually desired her company. For a man who’d said only yesterday that he needed his privacy, he was being downright gracious.

“Have you made your list of rules for Jason yet?” he asked, and when she nodded, he went on. “Why don’t you tell me about it? We can talk to him after supper.”

She sat across from him and folded her hands on the table. “First off, I think he needs to spend a little more time on his schoolwork. Jason is a very bright boy, but he tends to be lazy when it comes to learning. He doesn’t like the chore of writing out problems and solving them. He thinks if he knows the answer in his head, it’s a waste of time to work it out the long way.”

Jake nodded. “Well, I think I tend to agree with him on that. I always found schoolwork to be tedious.”

She frowned. “I can see that you’re not going to be much help.”

“What else?” he asked, urging her on to the next issue.

“You’ve already addressed the point of his messy behavior, tracking in dirt and such. I think he’s well aware that it will not be tolerated, especially since you spoke to him.”

“Don’t tell me that’s the whole of it? I find it hard to believe that a list-maker like you will call it quits after two items.”

“No,” she said. “Third is his religious education.” She raised a hand in protest to halt his automatic response. “Just listen to me, Jake. I understand that you won’t go with me to church, but I think Jason needs some background in that area.” Then she drove her message home. “I think his mother would agree if she could express an opinion.”

It left him without a rebuttal, and that was what she had intended.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for the rest of your list,” he said, his expression sour as if he’d eaten an unripe persimmon.

“Well, you’re going to hear it, anyway,” she said, gaining confidence. “I want him to have daily chores, instead of running wild.”

“He does chores,” Jake said defensively.

“He does what needs to be done, only when the need becomes critical.”

“He cleans his room.”

She raised her brow in a cynical expression. “I know
you haven’t had occasion to see his bedroom or you’d realize the humor of that remark.”

“Boys aren’t much for housework.”

“Neither are women who work at a profession for seven hours a day and then go home to a family that demands she tend to them.”

He glared at her. “I didn’t realize we were so
demanding
of you.”

Her shrug was a statement in itself. “
You
are. And that’s fine. I married you knowing that I would be called upon to do the very things I’m doing right now. I don’t mind cooking for you and cleaning up behind myself. I enjoy spending time with you and Jason, and I plan on keeping the yard and the house in order.”

“That’s what a wife is expected to do,” he said sharply. “I thought it was understood between us that you were going to be a real wife.”

She was silent, looking into his eyes with an unspoken message she feared he might decipher. “A
real
wife, Jake? Is that what I am?”

His jaw set firmly and his gaze hardened. “Probably as real as it’s gonna get.”

He spun his chair and went through the kitchen door.

Her heart yearned for him, for the pain he felt and for her own aching need to be loved. She rose to the stove and checked the coffee. It was strong enough to suit her and she poured a cup and settled back at the
table with it. She’d only taken one sip when he rolled through the door and faced her, a belligerent frown furrowing his brow.

“You promised me a cup of coffee.”

“So I did.” Retrieving a second cup from the buffet, she filled it and placed it before him. He’d made an effort, had done a turnabout, and she would not push him further today. It was apparent, however, that he was determined to have the last word, which gave her warning that he was willing to do battle if need be.

T
OBY APPEARED
at the front door on Wednesday, and knocked with a subdued rapping sound. Jason swung the door wide and cheerfully invited the boy inside. “Is your pa in the parlor?” Toby asked, and Jake could not mistake the note of anticipation in his tone.