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