“We seem to be at odds on this trip when we’re not avoiding one another,” he said. “It wasn’t what I’d hoped for.” Gone was the typical display of golden sunlight in eyes that were often touched with humor. She missed that.
She also missed the man she’d once thought Joseph to be. “Don’t lecture me about avoidance. I wasn’t the one who stayed away for ten years like a sulking child. You knew where Matthew and I were anytime you came to St. Louis.”
“That’s right.” He said the words with an emphasis that implied he’d explained it all, when in truth he hadn’t explained a thing.
“Don’t doubt my gratefulness, I do appreciate your arrival at the perfect time for me to escape an ugly situation, but I don’t understand why you asked me to join you on this trip.”
“I wanted you out of St. Louis. I worried about you all winter after word reached me about Matthew’s death.”
“Then where were you all winter?” She’d wondered that several times over the long, hard winter months, when neighbors became unfriendly and the sheriff tried more than once to convince himself that she had been the culprit in Matthew’s death.
“I was in Kansas Territory,” Joseph said, “bound in by snow.”
“Of course. My apologies. I heard the snows hit the Territory hard this past winter.” She couldn’t miss the fact that Joseph was studying her every expression with deep interest.
“I had hoped we could put old disagreements behind us,” he said, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry with me for some reason. You’re brooding.”
She wouldn’t try to deny that. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable.” She couldn’t tell him the truth—that guilt combined with old resentments made her awkward around him. While she grieved for her husband, the truth was Matthew had always known she didn’t love him the way a woman should love her man. Not the way he loved her. Not the way she’d loved Joseph....
“Matthew made me a top priority in his life,” she said. “You did not.” That was, indeed, a great deal of her problem, but it certainly didn’t explain why she’d been unable to dismiss Joseph the way he’d obviously dismissed her. “Indeed, you became engaged to another woman.” That, above all other things, still angered her when she allowed herself to think about it, and this was not the time to allow her temper to flare.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what made you think that, but—”
“Perhaps we could save this discussion for another time,” she said. “I have patients to see.” Without waiting for a reply, she strode away from him toward the crowd of wet and upset travelers. Why had she come on this trip? Now Joseph must think she would always be willing to simply drop everything and do whatever he wished.
How on earth could this situation get worse?
Chapter Two
Joseph stood staring after Victoria’s enchanting, black-clad figure, and considered, as he had dozens of times in these past weeks, that this journey could be his chance to correct past blunders. Yes, she had misunderstood his actions at the worst possible times, believed some wild tales about him that were completely untrue, and yet if he was picking up on the right signals, her heart was trapped in the same position as his. After all these years. It amazed and humbled him.
In spite of all the past tensions between the two of them, his father’s machinations to marry him off to another woman and whatever Matthew had convinced Victoria to believe, Joseph suspected, with growing excitement, that something within her wanted to block out all the efforts made by others to keep them apart.
Not that he would want his old friend—and perhaps foe, at least in romance—to die in order for Victoria to see the truth about their enduring love. Joseph was no romantic. Most folks married for the sake of necessity, and they had good, strong marriages. But for Joseph, there had always only been Victoria.
It mystified him still. Some people were meant to be together; he and Victoria were two of those people. He’d known it since their first kiss, his first desire to marry her and take her out of St. Louis and carry her home to meet his family.
If anyone should feel slighted about that time, it should be him. He’d merely wanted to introduce his soon-to-be fiancée to his family and friends at home, take her with him as he cared for family, being the oldest son.
Yet Victoria would have nothing to do with that; she detested slavery, and his father owned slaves in Georgia. Yet would she be gracious and allow him to prove his convictions to her? No. She merely rejected him. He had determined on his way back to St. Louis from Kansas Territory that he wouldn’t be so easily kowtowed this time.
Ahead of him, the woman who occupied his thoughts nearly slid to the ground. He caught up with her and reclaimed her arm, because if she fell again she could end up as a patient instead of the much-needed doctor. He resisted the impulse to remark on what she’d just said. She was right; this wasn’t the time to debate old hurts.
Right now they had people to see to, when what he wanted to do was gather some strands of her disabused hair and tuck it away. He loved the color of that hair, which matched a golden Missouri sunset. Though he also loved the shimmering blue of her eyes, he was glad they were walking side by side, because he didn’t want to meet her gaze.
This was not the time to explain why he’d avoided her and Matthew when they were married or admit the chink in his armor when it came to her. That would require a much longer conversation. Later.
As they strolled toward the others, he saw that McDonald and Reich had things well in hand.
“I apologize for not responding to the news of the death of your intended.” Victoria’s voice could bite with such gentleness that he barely felt it until the meaning struck him across the face. “I didn’t know about her for months.”
He cut her a glance. “I wrote to you.”
“I received nothing.”
“You should have.”
“And yet, somehow, I didn’t.” She snapped the words, as if she didn’t believe him.
“Now I’m a liar?”
She cut him a look of confusion. “I don’t know what to believe, Joseph, and I haven’t for a very long time. I only know you’re not the man I thought you were.”
“Of course I’m not. Then I was barely more than a rank youngster. People do grow, you know.”
She cast a glance toward the Johnston boys. “Let’s hope that’s true.”
He wasn’t going to let her take her jabs and then change the subject that easily. “I didn’t get engaged.” He thought about his dear childhood friend, Sara Jane. Despite Father’s wishes, Joseph and Sara Jane would never have married. He’d loved her like a sister, a trusted playmate from years before, who had grown into a fine woman and who was secretly betrothed to a man from Atlanta. She’d told Joseph all about it and he’d been happy for her. Though heartbroken at her death, losing her wasn’t the reason he’d turned his back on plantation life.
“That catastrophe was the result of my dying father’s desire to build an empire for his oldest son using a legal bond between a neighbor’s daughter and me.” Joseph kept his voice low. “Neither Sara Jane nor I were complicit in that arrangement, only our fathers. We were determined to break the supposed engagement together, but she sickened and passed away before any formal announcement could be made.”
There was a long silence before Victoria spoke. “I see.”
“I’m not sure you do. How did you hear of my father’s plans?” he asked.
Her arm stiffened in his grasp, but he held on and tried to catch a glimpse of her expression, see what she was thinking.