Eliza admired the tall trees they passed under. Jackson Hart didn’t seem as if he was in a talkative mood. But she wanted to know more about him. She asked, “How does one become a journeyman? Didn’t you say you were a blacksmith? Is a blacksmith the same as a journeyman?” She pulled the little dress over the rag doll’s head and tied the string around its neck.
“Journeymen travel from place to place helping other blacksmiths. So, yes, they are blacksmiths. And most blacksmiths start out as apprentices.”
Eliza placed the doll back on the bench. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything else, she looked at him. Large muscles bulged in his arms as he held the reins. “So, you’ve been traveling around? Were you very young when you became an apprentice?” she asked.
“I was ten.” He kept his gaze trained straight ahead.
“I see.” She wanted to ask more questions. Like how long had he apprenticed. And had he ever trained anyone else to be a blacksmith? But from the set of his jaw, Eliza decided she might be annoying him.
Since he wasn’t in a talkative mood and was looking straight ahead, she took the opportunity to study him. He was a big man with wide shoulders. As she thought about it, Eliza realized that Jackson Hart was probably the biggest man she’d ever met. The blacksmith in Cottonwood Springs, Dan Tucker, wasn’t as big as Jackson. He had muscles but not like Jackson.
Jackson had sandy-brown hair, cobalt-blue eyes and a cleft in his chin that she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away from. His face seemed chiseled and strong. She decided she liked that in a man. Her eyes traveled up to his, and she found him staring back at her.
Eliza ignored the heated sensation that took over her face and said, “I was just thinking. If you are going to live in Cottonwood Springs, I should tell you a little about the people who live there.”
When he didn’t answer or say he wasn’t planning on living in Cottonwood Springs, Eliza took that as her cue that he was interested. She talked nonstop for the next few hours. Oh, she didn’t gossip about the townspeople; she simply told him that Mr. and Mrs. Miller owned one general store and Mrs. Walker and her husband owned another. Mrs. Velarde owned the diner; Mr. Browning ran the livery. And the list of businesses continued.
She told him that Dr. Clark had been the town doctor ever since she’d moved to Cottonwood Springs over five years ago. Then she’d continued by telling him about the circuit preacher, Reverend Griffin, who came through town once or twice a month unless the weather was bad. If the reverend wasn’t in town, then the local men took turns leading service.
Jackson nodded in all the right places. She decided he must have been interested in what she was saying. As soon as she finished with who lived in town, Eliza filled him in on who owned the local farms and ranches.
After a while, Eliza noted that rain seemed to be falling in the distance. Once more she worried about her fabrics and sent a swift prayer heavenward to keep the rain at bay at least until they got home.
Eliza picked up the doll. Jackson’s gaze fluttered to the toy, and she thought his eyes had been curious. Without him asking, Eliza began to tell him about the doll and the Parker family. “Little Bessie Parker is having her fourth birthday next week. Her pa died last spring and her ma has been having a hard time of it so I’m giving her ma, Georgia, this doll to give to Bessie.” She smoothed out the little dolls dress and then sat it back on the bench beside her. “I think she’ll like it.”
He grinned at her. “I believe you are right.”
Something in the grin tickled her tummy. In just a short amount of time she’d gotten used to looking into his stormy-blue eyes. She shook her head at such foolish thoughts. Eliza looked up into the sky, pretending his smile hadn’t affected her in any way.
Two colorful arches filled the heavens. “Look! Mr. Hart! A double rainbow.” She turned from the spectacular view and looked over at him. “You know what it means?” Eliza didn’t give him time to answer. “I love rainbows and believe they are promises. Promises from God that He will never destroy the entire world again by flooding. And I believe they are also a sign that no matter what we go through, He will be there for us. Those are the promises I hold fast to.”
* * *
Her awe-filled voice touched his heart. She was a widow who still believed in promises from God. He’d met a few widows in his life and the ones he’d met were bitter about the loss of their husbands. But Eliza Kelly didn’t strike him as a bitter woman. That was one of the things he liked about her. At that thought, Jackson turned from the rainbows and the pretty woman beside him.
Silence hung between them. The birds chirping in the trees and the sound of the horses’ hooves clomping through the mud were the only sounds filling the air.
Jackson felt her studying his profile and fought the urge to squirm. He lowered his hat to shade his eyes. Her brown gaze moved over his face and down his shoulder and continued until she came to his boots. Then he watched from the corner of his eye as she examined herself.
Eliza removed her sun hat. Her hands went to her hair. She released it from the knot she’d piled on top of her head. Next her fingers combed the locks until they hung shiny and soft about her shoulders. Then she began braiding it. He surreptitiously watched as she twisted the braid into a crown on the top of her head.
Realizing she must be preparing to enter town, he returned his focus to the road ahead. After a few minutes, the strong scent of smoke touched his nostrils.
Jackson’s gaze searched the tree line and surrounding area for the source of the smell. He searched the sky for signs of it in the air. Nothing.
“Smells like something is on fire,” Eliza said, raising her nose into the air.
It amazed him that she’d just seemed to notice. Had her mind been focused elsewhere or was Eliza Kelly one of those women who were unaware of their surroundings? He realized she was staring at him and decided to answer. “Yes, but I don’t detect the smoke. Do you see it?”
She’d replaced her hat. Eliza shook her head. “No, could be it’s an old fire. We’re getting closer to town. Maybe someone is burning his trash.”
Jackson saw the homestead Seth had said was standing just outside Cottonwood Springs. He could hear the river gurgling on each side of him and smiled, enjoying the soothing sound. “Maybe so.”
The wagon began the slow climb up the hill. “We’ll be home in just a few minutes,” Eliza told him. Excitement filled her voice at the prospect.
Home. The word sounded promising. Would he find a home in Cottonwood Springs? Or would it just be another town that he’d pass through? For years he’d been searching for his father who had abandoned him and his mother when he was a child. But the hope of finding his father and a home was simply that, a hope. Jackson only wanted to know why his father had left. Was that too much to ask?
Jackson took a deep breath to clear his mind. The acrid smell of smoke seemed stronger. His gaze moved to Eliza once more. He wondered if he and Eliza would become friends once they arrived in Cottonwood Springs or if she would go on with her life and forget all about him.
He found himself hoping she wouldn’t forget about him. Eliza Kelly had made him feel liked today. She’d shared about her hometown and friends as if she thought they’d be friends, too.
Eliza chose that
