My Heart's Desire by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

shade only a little less volatile than her hair. "Papa is the one who needs to hear this. He's the one who interfered."
    "Papa didn't lay Hollis out on the floor of the chapel."
    Maggie hugged the towels she carried protectively. "I don't think it was all that dramatic, and what Skye says is true. If Papa hadn't put forth the notion, Mr. Sullivan would have hardly acted as he did."
    "And," Skye said, "it seems to me that you're more angry than hurt or disappointed." At Rennie's start of surprise, Skye added, "It's something to think about, isn't it?"
    Feeling betrayed, Rennie's dark green eyes darted from one sister to the other, and the hurt that Skye had noted was missing earlier was now there for both of them to see. "There's no talking to either one of you," she said softly.
    "Rennie," Maggie implored. "We didn't mean—"
    "Just put the towels down," Rennie said. "I'll see that Mr. Sullivan gets everything." She turned her back on her sisters, effectively dismissing them. She felt their hesitation, could imagine them exchanging pained glances, but she would not relent. Did they really think she was without any feeling? When the door shut, and she was alone, some of the steel went out of Rennie's spine. Her shoulders slumped, and her knees wobbled. She placed one hand on the edge of the bedside table to steady herself.
    That was how Jarret found her, looking oddly vulnerable with her eyes closed and the slender weight of her braced against the table. He stood in the doorway, a towel hitched around his waist, watching her silent struggle for a moment; then knowing that she wouldn't thank him for the intrusion, he quietly backed into the dressing room.
    "Is someone there?" he called.
    His voice jerked Rennie to the present. "It's Rennie, Mr. Sullivan. I've brought your dinner."
    "Right now I'm more interested in some clean clothes."
    "Oh." Rennie imagined Jarret's wicked grin at her flustered response. She drew in a steadying breath. "Of course. I didn't think."
    "I'm decently covered."
    Now she was certain he was laughing at her. Gathering the loose threads of her composure, Rennie managed to answer coolly. "Stay where you are and I'll take your word for it. Your bag's in here on the chair, and Mother's sent warm towels, too. Someone will collect your tray later. Good evening, Mr. Sullivan."
    "Good evening, Miss Dennehy." He doubted she heard him. The door was opening and closing as he was speaking.
    Chuckling to himself, Jarret left the dressing room. He ignored the dusty carpetbag of fresh clothes and helped himself to one of the warm towels, rubbing it briskly against his dark blond hair. He also exchanged the damp towel around his waist for a dry one, then sat on the edge of the bed and investigated the dishes Moira Dennehy's cook had prepared.
    He would have eaten sawdust and drank hot candle wax. It made him all the more grateful that neither of these items was placed before him. Mrs. Cavanaugh had given him thick slices of roast beef, a mountain of mashed potatoes with a deep reservoir of gravy, and tender baby carrots. The dinner rolls were hot to the touch and shiny with melted butter. The coffee was just the way he liked: steaming, black, and lots of it.
    Jarret ate everything, sopping up the gravy with his roll, finishing the pot of coffee with the last bite of black cherry pie. Replete, feeling the meal settle heavily in his stomach, Jarret pushed the tray away and lay back on the bed. He cradled his head in his hands and stared at the ceiling, wondering if he dared close his eyes. Outside his window he could hear the rhythmic clatter of carriages and horses, the excited chatter of neighbors on their way to the theater. He knew better than to close his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and then rubbed his lids. Jarret did not remember falling asleep. In moments he was.
    * * *
    Rennie pushed the door open when there was no response to her knock. There was no light in the room,