But in his heart he knew it was too late. He did love her. And just as he had loved once before, only to be on the losing side of romance, Mac was certain that this time would be no different. It wasn't just that Jillian reminded him of
her
. It was that history seemed to be repeating itself, and Mac knew he wasn't strong enough to endure that kind of heartache again.
JILLIAN LOST HERSELF IN HER WORK at the Harvey House in an attempt to push aside thoughts of Mac and the gentle way he'd held her. But she found it was almost impossible to forget. So instead, she listened to the customers speak of their travels and woes. She focused on Fred Harvey's routine, setting the tables with meticulous care. Only the finest china and crystal, each piece closely inspected for flaw or chip. Only the whitest linens, pressed and arranged to perfection.
From the moment the gong announced the passengers' arrival until it sounded again to warn them that they were soon to board, Jillian gave her entire heart and soul to the job at hand. She hadn't broken a single dish in the last four days, and her tips had improved dramatically. Men flirted with her as they did with the others, two had proposed, and one had firmly announced that she was destined to be his wife. She'd had to laugh when she came back to the table to find that he hadn't tipped her so much as a penny.
But when the passengers had gone and the tables had been cleared and reset, Jillian found herself with way too much time to think. Nighttime was the worst yet. She lay in her bed for long hours before sleep would finally give her any peace, and all she could think about during those hours were Mac and Mary and Little Sister. Sometimes she would think of her family as well, remembering, sadly enough, that it wasn't much longer before her contract was up and she'd be expected to return home. But could she go back to what she'd known before, knowing what she did now?
Could she live among her mother's camelback sofas and Persian rugs, listen to her father compete for men's properties and goods as if the world depended on his skill? Could she dine every evening at exactly seven-thirty, wearing Worth gowns and boasting the latest in hairstyles, all while knowing that in Arizona children went to bed on mats, often hungry because of a lack of food? Could she sit in her pious cathedral, listening to the unmoving sermons and droning voices and not remember the way Reverend Lister's simple words had stirred her heart?
Jillian never found any answers for her questionsâperhaps because she pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they came. She simply didn't want to deal with them. They were painful reminders that she would soon part company and leave Mac and Mary and all the others who had been so kind. And for what? Obedience to her demanding father? Lack of courage to do anything else?
Finally her mind came to rest on the lies she'd created. Few people knew who she really was, and while it didn't really hurt anyone that she was posing as Judith, Jillian was growing increasingly uncomfortable with hiding the truth. She knew Mary, although forgiving and understanding, had been surprised by her declaration. For a moment, Jillian had felt as though Mary had been hurt by her deception. This in turn grieved Jillian. She hadn't thought it would matter to anyone. She hadn't figured her identity to be of any importance.
What would the others say when she let the truth be known? Would they be angered she had led them on falsely? Tossing and turning in her bed, Jillian realized that she had come to detest her actions. What could she possibly do to right her wrongs, short of revealing herself and getting Judith into trouble?
Thursday dawned bright and warm, and before Jillian was even fully awake, she remembered it was her day off. In all the time since she'd come to Pintan, her days off had varied. Kate said that Judith had allowed Gwen to alternate her schedule rather than giving her a fixed day, so that if one of the other girls needed to be away, she could simply change times with Judith. It seemed like the kind of thing Judith would enjoy, but Jillian longed for a bit more order in her life.
Getting up, Jillian went quickly to her morning chores, dressing carefully in a lightweight muslin blouse and a dove gray skirt. The temperatures in Pintan were gradually climbing, and by listening to those around her, Jillian knew the heat would only continue to rise. She didn't really mind the added warmthâat least it was dry. Back in Kansas City, summer days often felt sticky and uncomfortable when the air became humid. That wouldn't be a problem here in the Arizona Territory.
She decided early on to seek out Mac and see if he might escort her out to Mary's place. She'd already spoken to her house manager, receiving permission to be in Mac's company for the day. Sam had smiled knowingly and said it was perfectly acceptable for her to court the good doctor. Jillian hadn't any chance to set him straight on his thinking because at that moment, Louisa burst into the office and declared that the kitchen was on fire.
Jillian and Sam both ran to see about the situation, finding that the cooks had easily controlled the flames.
“Sorry to give you a fright,” the head chef told Sam. “Some rags were left too close to the stove. They've been moved away and shouldn't cause any more concern.”
“See that they don't,” Sam said. “A fire out here would spell disaster for sure.”
Jillian decided this was the best moment for slipping away and quickly exited out the back door before anyone could question her further.
Mac's door was wide open, as was nearly every window in the tiny house. Jillian couldn't blame him for allowing the breeze inside. The air smelled sweet, scented with the blooming vegetation from the surrounding desert landscape. Though unlike anything she had ever known in Kansas City, she loved it nevertheless.
“Mac?” she called at the door. “Are you in there?”
“I'm here,” he replied, wiping his hands on a towel as he approached the door. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” Jillian shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “I was just hoping to ask you a favor.”
He smiled. “When Judith came to me asking for favors they usually involved a great deal of energy and time.”
Jillian couldn't help but smile. “Well, then, I'm more like my sister than I imagined. I was hoping you could take me out to Mary's place.”
Mac seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding. “I think that can be arranged. I'll see about borrowing the buckboard from Reverend Lister. It's certainly sturdy enough to endure the drive.”
“Thank you, Mac. It means a lot. I've been meaning to talk to Mary about a great many things, and since I have the whole day off, I was hoping you could help me out.”
Half an hour later they sat side by side on the wagon seat, Jillian very aware of Mac's nearness. He smelled of freshly washed clothes and cologne. The cologne was a spicy scent, and Jillian wondered if Mac had put it on just for her. He hadn't been wearing it when she'd arrived at his door, neither had he worn it before.
“So did you have your talk with Reverend Lister?” she asked, trying to think of something to say.
“We met this morning and talked some,” Mac admitted. “I still have a lot of questions, but he's a good one for supplying answers.”
“Mary's good for that too. I don't suppose she'll be too happy with me for not telling everybody about who I really am, but I just don't want to mess things up for Judith. I don't want her in trouble, even if she did break her word.”
“Sometimes people need to face the consequences for their actions,” Mac answered.
Jillian nodded. “I know that's true, but she's my sister and I love her very much. I know she's happier now that she's away from my father and mother and married to the man she loves.”
Mac fastened his eyes on her. “Tell me about your homelife, Jillian.” The request didn't seem all that unreasonable, but it made Jillian uncomfortable nevertheless. How could she possibly explain her family to Mac? They were such a strange lot.
“Well, my mother descended from European royalty, as she proudly tells everyone and anyone who will listen. She met my father in New York City while on a holiday. They fell madly in love, and my father so impressed her father with his ability to make money that when my father pledged to finance a business adventure for my grandfather, he eagerly agreed to their whirlwind courtship and marriage.
“My father's background accounts for his business acumen. His father and his father's father were both businessmen. They would participate in bits of this and that. Father calls it âdiversifying one's interests,' but I think Father is a great deal like Judith. He becomes bored easily and has to have something new to focus on. He dabbles in banking and stocks and real estate, as well as a dozen or more businesses. He's done quite well for himself, but he is very demanding and often hurts people to get what he wants.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Mac said, glancing at her with a smile.
“Well, hopefully you'll never have reason to do business with him,” Jillian replied. “He is ruthless and I wouldn't wish him on my worst enemy.”
Mac nodded. “So is it just you and Judith as far as children?”
“There were two others, but they died very young. We are the youngest of the Danvers children, born and raised in Kansas City. Father moved his family first to Chicago, then St. Louis, and finally Kansas City. He picked up wealth as he went, much as a farmer might take up vegetables as he walks through his garden. Father just has a knack. Anyway, he settled in Kansas City and two years later Judith and I were born. Grandmother Danvers said twins were a bad omen and that nothing good could befall the family after that.”
“I don't think I would have liked your Grandmother Danvers,” Mac said matter-of-factly.
Jillian giggled. “I didn't like her much myself. And you know how Judith felt.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. What did she die of?”
“The doctor said it was a kind of cancer,” Jillian said quite seriously. “But if you want my opinion, I think she died from a hard heart. She was very much like my father. Ruthless and unyielding, not caring a bit who she hurt so long as she got her own way.”
“How did your mother figure into all of this?”
“She spent her time having parties and social teas, and being seen in the right place at the right time. When Judith and I were old enough to come out of the nursery, she sent us off to boarding school and then a prestigious ladies' finishing school. Once we returned home, we were finally interesting to her. She took up the task of finding rich, handsome husbands for us and . . . well, she continues to this day.”
Jillian tried not to think about the fact that she hadn't heard from her mother since writing to tell her that she and Mac were engaged. She wondered if the lie had done the trick. She felt only a small amount of relief, however, even if she had managed to stave off her mother's irritating meddling. After all, once her contract was up, what could she do but head home to the same nonsense as before? It wasn't like she could stay on in Pintan. Or could she?
“Mac, I've been thinking about something,” she said, deciding to get his opinion on her idea. “I know I have to tell Gwen about who I really am. But do you suppose that given the time I've been here and the improvements I've made, plus the fact that she's shorthanded . . . well, do you suppose she might let me stay on? I mean, even after she knows I'm not Judith?”
Mac reined back on the horse and turned to look at Jillian as if she'd said something quite profound. “You'd actually want to give up your life in Kansas City and live in Pintan?”
Jillian felt uneasy with the tone of his voice. He made her feel like she was incapable of enduring such a thing. “Yes, that's what I'm proposing to do. I suppose you think that I wouldn't make a good Harvey Girl on a full-time basis.”
Mac shook his head very slowly and pushed back his hat a bit. His face, although still shadowed by the hat, seemed to express hurt. “I didn't mean that at all. You shouldn't assume the worst of me. I simply find it amazing that you would like the territory enough to stay.”
Jillian sighed. “I guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I seem to be quite good at that.”
“I think we've both been guilty of that,” Mac replied. “Still, are you sure you wouldn't miss the city?”
Jillian looked out across the land. “I love it here. I didn't realize it until the other day, but I really do. I don't miss the abundance of trees or water, I don't pine away for the city and all its amenities. But I do think I would miss this. There's such a serenity and peace about this place. I realized it when Mary brought me out here the first time. It seems like a nice place to call home.”
Mac stared at her for a moment before slapping the reins against the horse's back. “Few people feel that way,” he finally murmured.
“Well, I guess I'm just one of the few,” Jillian replied softly. “I suppose I would have much to learn. I'm not very well suited to do much of anything.”
“Mr. Harvey would probably argue that point,” Mac said with a grin.
“Mr. Harvey is probably still tallying up his monetary losses from my escapades with his china. Gwen says in the history of her time on the job, she has never known anyone who has broken more dishes than I have.”
“See there,” Mac said encouragingly. “Everybody is good at something. Now, if we can just find a use for your talent, you should be quite content.”
The laughter that erupted from Jillian seemed to revitalize her soul. “I shall keep my eyes open for something I might accomplish using broken china.”
As they approached Mary's little house, the screams of an unhappy baby reached their ears from nearly half a mile away.
“Is Mary caring for Little Sister's baby?” Jillian questioned as Mac pulled the buckboard alongside the house.