21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty-one

“Uncle Row!”

Claire threw her spindly arms around Rowland’s legs as he entered his sister’s home. Like him, Jo had chosen to stay in the city, with a simple row house near the shop, but even that took some convincing. Jo insisted she was happy in the flat above the shop, and she didn’t want some stranger living near her things. Rowland assured her she could keep the flat for storage space, but they needed a space that was theirs, away from the shop, that was strictly home, not work. In the years since, Jo had turned the little house into a proper home, with cozy touches throughout. Plus a corner of the entryway that housed a small memorial for her late husband.

Rowland crouched down to lift his niece into his arms and settle her on his hip, but not before planting a big, smooching kiss on her head. She giggled.

“Happy Birthday, my sweet girl,” he said. “Did you get the present I sent you?”

“I did,” she said with a nod. “Mummy won’t let me open it yet. She said it wasn’t polite unless you were here.”

“Mum’s right, but I’m here now, so let’s crack it open, shall we?”

She wriggled with excitement, and he set her on her feet. She took off down the hall toward the kitchen and he followed. By the time he stepped in, Claire was already tugging on her mother’s apron, begging to open the present.

“One moment, lovie, I’ve got to get the cake in,” Jo shushed, opening the oven door to slide the cake pan onto the rack.

The smell of batter, sweet and heavenly, wafted over Rowland. Jo had their mother’s touch in the kitchen. After she set the timer, she faced him.

“Hello, Rowland,” she said, and crossed the room to embrace him.

He realized it had been far too long since he’d seen his sister. So when she went to pull away, he brought her back in and squeezed her around her shoulders. Something about getting shot, nearly dying in a different shootout, and finding love made one remember the value of family.

“You all right?” she asked, drawing back to search his face. “You look a bit banged up.”

“Just a scrap in York, nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “I’ll catch you up on everything later. Today’s for Claire.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she dropped the subject. With a nod, she went to the kitchen table where there were already a number of gifts piled up. She picked up the largest one, rectangular and wrapped in brown paper. Claire’s hands shot up, and she opened and closed her fists.

“Only this one for now,” Jo said sternly. “The rest, you’ll have to wait for your party.”

“Okay, okay, please, Mummy!” Claire whined back.

Jo relinquished the gift at last, and Claire had torn half the paper before she even set it on the floor. When she finally exposed it, she let out a huge gasp. Through the clear cover, Rowland got his first glimpse of the gift as well. A doll he’d commissioned to exactly resemble Claire. He was relieved to see that it was perfect, from her eyes to the dimple in her cheeks.

“She’s come all the way from London,” he explained. “I had her made special for you. By the same doll maker who makes dolls for the royals.”

Claire’s smile made the whole room get brighter. “She’s beautiful.”

“You like her?”

She scrambled to her feet and threw herself in Rowland’s arms again, nuzzling his neck. “Thank you, Uncle Row.”

“You’re welcome.” He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. “It’s not every day a girl turns six.”

She kissed his cheek. “I love you, Uncle Row.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said. “Now, want me to help you open it so you can play with her?”

She nodded vigorously, and he got straight to work on the box.

Once Claire was playing happily with her doll, Rowland helped Jo in the back garden, where she had a table and chairs set up. He took one end of the tablecloth and she took the other. As they spread it out, he noticed her wedding ring on her left hand when the sunlight gleamed off of it.

“Would you ever think about getting married again?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “What are you on about?”

“I’m just wondering,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s been almost six years since you lost Jesse. Don’t you ever think about moving on?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I have a husband.”

“But he’s gone. Surely you’d like to have another man in your life. A companion.”

“I’m not lonely. I have my daughter and my family.”

“And that’s enough?”

“Why shouldn’t it be? ”

“It’s not for most people.”

She pinned him with a look. “What are you getting at?”

“Just…what frightens you about getting married again? Is it the hurt?”

He wasn’t sure who he was truly asking this question to. His sister, certainly in the moment, but he was also asking it to Iris. Every day, he asked her in his mind, but he could never pin down what her answer would be. He hoped Jo had some insight.

She stood up straight and wiped her palms on her apron. She fiddled with a loose string on the edge of it for a moment before meeting his gaze again.

“I loved Jesse with all my heart,” she said. “I still look at the door each night, expecting him to walk through it. When I wake up each day, I still feel like he’s lying beside me. No matter how many years go by, I still feel like I’m his wife. The bullet that took his life didn’t dissolve our marriage, you know. But if I remarried, that would mean it really was over. If I move on, I’ll have killed him twice.”

Rowland gazed at his sister in awe. He could think of no one in the world who loved that completely, and it nearly made him stagger backward. Instead, he drew closer to her, and he pulled her in for a hug.

The two most important women in his life feared remarrying for equal and opposite reasons. How could it be such a lose-lose scenario? If you were blissfully happy, tragedy could mean the end of your world. If you were dreadfully unhappy, you feared the return of that misery.

“If you could go back and do it all over,” Rowland said. “Knowing what you know now. Would you still have married him?”

Jo held his gaze, her eyes sure. “Yes.”

And there was the difference. Rowland knew that if the opportunity arose for her to take back her marriage to Lewis, Iris would jump at it. She would spare herself that pain. Jo, on the other hand, would not sacrifice the happiness she had with Jesse, not even to protect her heart from the agony of losing him. And wasn’t that what made love so powerful? For someone you loved, wasn’t it worth the risk? Would Iris be willing to swallow her pride and risk it for him?

He loved her, he was sure of it. Admiration and attraction had ripened into something he felt all the way to his bones. It consumed him from the inside out. He loved her boldness and her charm as much as he loved her smile or her legs. Was it so horrible that he wanted to have that love be celebrated and honored? That he wanted it acknowledged by the law?

He knew that she had reservations, and he understood them. But hadn’t he proven that he was not Lewis? Did she trust him now that they were finally together?

“What’s brought this on?” Jo asked, detaching herself from him so she could set the table.

He moved to help her. “Things have…progressed with Iris. I was hoping for some perspective.”

“She still isn’t interested in marrying?”

“Yep. And I feel like I’ve done all I can to convince her that it’s different with me.”

“Be patient, Row. She’s got her own heart to sort out. Just be ready for when she does.”

“I will,” he said with a sigh. As he placed the forks, he reached for Jo’s arm and turned her to look at him. “And when you’re ready, you know Ezra and I are here for you.”

She set the last spoon in her hand down, her right hand moving to turn her wedding ring around her finger. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He grinned. “I know I’d suffocate before I got the chance to be supportive.”

“You really would,” she said with a chuckle. “Now go around and make sure those forks are straight. You set the table worse than Claire.”

He put a hand to his chest as if she’d struck him. “You wound me, Jo.”

“Shut up and fix it.” She rolled her eyes.