cannot do.”
She stepped aside, including his parents in the conversation. “I have tried to do what has been asked of me. But I am tired of sitting and pretending that having insult upon insult heaped upon me does not bother me. I am Mrs. Jasper Jackson, for better or for worse. And as such, I will assist my husband in bringing these bandits to justice. And when that happens, I will walk through this town with my head held high, and not a soul will dare look down upon me.”
A few tense moments ticked by. Then, with a steely look far more threatening than even his mother’s fiercest glower, Emma Jane stared directly at his mother. “Including you, Mrs. Jackson.”
Everything in him wanted to applaud Emma Jane at her words. As far as Jasper knew, no one had stood up to his mother before. At least, not with that level of vigor.
But Emma Jane was not finished, because then she turned her attention on him. “You will let me help you. If you do not include me in your plans, I will do my part, anyway. Even if it means going to the sheriff directly.”
Jasper didn’t doubt her words. No, this ferocious spitfire, a woman with whom he was entirely unacquainted, meant business. Just as Mary had snuck out and followed him to the brothel that night, he knew Emma Jane would do the same—and more.
They’d barely gotten Mary and her sister Rose out alive that night. How much more danger would Emma Jane face? It seemed an impossible choice—include Emma Jane in a potentially dangerous mission, or risk having her go behind his back and get mixed up in something potentially more precarious?
“I need to go.” Jasper had prolonged his leaving long enough. Almost too long. He’d only meant to tell everyone of his plans, not have the impassioned discussion that ensued.
“Hopefully, this lead takes us to where the bandits are hiding. Then it will be over and all will be well. I just wanted a chance to say goodbye, you know, in case. If all goes well, I’ll be home by supper.”
Emma Jane stepped forward and gave him an awkward hug. “Stay safe.”
The rush of emotion in his chest came on harder than the force of the worst blizzard he’d endured. His wife’s hug was all warmth and completely unexpected after Emma Jane’s fervent speech about joining him.
“Promise me you won’t try to help me with this case while I’m gone. We can talk when I get back.”
He could see her hesitation as she shifted her weight and chewed on her lower lip. Those eyes looked at him in a way that made him believe that things would, in fact, be all right.
“I promise.”
He wasn’t supposed to care about Emma Jane Logan, er, Jackson. But he’d forgotten that underneath all that awkwardness lay a woman with deep compassion for others. If only she’d had compassion for the fact that he’d have liked to have chosen his own wife—a woman whom he actually loved.
In that, Jasper envied his friend, Will, falling head over heels for Mary. Their marriage would be a real marriage, full of happiness and love. What did Jasper have to look forward to?
Nights sitting by the fire and talking? That had been pleasant enough before he’d been forced to marry her. But what of the rest of their lives? And children? How were they supposed to have children when they didn’t share the kind of feelings needed for the begetting of children?
Jasper jerked away. All this time, he’d remained in Emma Jane’s embrace. How had he forgotten himself? Memories of their time trapped in the mine flooded back to him. Just before Emma Jane had shoved him out of the way of the rockslide, he’d kissed her. But then the rockslide hit, and while he’d been saved, Emma Jane’s heroism had left her with a nasty bump on the head. Jasper had considered it a sign.
Kissing Emma Jane Logan had nearly killed them both.
Now that she was Emma Jane Jackson, Jasper had no intention of repeating the experience. He had more important things to think about than romance. Even if he couldn’t get the memory of the soft press of her lips against his out of his mind.
“I should get going,” he finally said, shifting awkwardly.
His father stepped forward and gave him a tight embrace. “Stay safe, son.”
And then, almost as if his father feared the worst, he said slowly, “I can’t pretend to like what you’re doing, but I understand.”
Henry’s voice quavered slightly. “I don’t want there to be any regrets between us. So know I love you and I’m proud of you.”
Jasper should have been pleased to hear those words, but something in him ached, knowing he hadn’t yet done anything to be proud of. He exhaled roughly. He’d save the joy in hearing the words for when he knew Daisy was safe.
His mother, though, held no such sentiment. Red-eyed, she stared past him at Emma Jane.
“If he dies, I will blame you. He never had such foolish notions about chasing bandits until after he met you. And I promise, you will rue the day...”
“Enough, Constance.” His father took his mother by the arm.
After a glance at Emma Jane’s stricken face, Jasper, too, had had enough.
“None of this is Emma Jane’s fault. If you listened to me at all, you’d know that I’ve been wanting to do something meaningful with my life for a long time.”
Jasper held out a hand to Emma Jane, and she took it, her gloved fingers seeming so small in his. He’d married her to protect her, and here, with his mother’s hostility, he had to wonder for the second time today if it had done any good.
Was he wrong for trying to be more than what he was?
But could he live with himself if he didn’t? Could he continue looking himself in the mirror if he were nothing more than a dandy, taking in social entertainments but contributing nothing but gossip to society?
Squeezing Emma Jane’s hand gently, he gazed down at her. “Thank you for supporting me. I know this isn’t the marriage either of us wanted for ourselves, but I’m grateful that you’re standing by me and I promise to do the same for you.”
The tears glimmering in her eyes were unexpected, and they stirred something in his gut he hadn’t been prepared for. Was it sympathy? No, something deeper. Like maybe the friendship that had begun before he’d realized Emma Jane had set him up wasn’t completely dead.
He swallowed the rising emotion and let go of Emma Jane’s hand, turning to his mother. “Emma Jane is my wife. She is a Jackson and should be afforded every courtesy the name entails.”
Henry coughed. “Jasper is right. What’s done is done, and even if we could undo it, it would only bring more scandal to the family. We need to make the best of things.”
Jasper noticed he gave Constance a slight squeeze before letting her go. The small affection between his father and mother made him even more grateful for his father’s support.
Which made Jasper feel even worse. As difficult
