Jack straightened his black bowtie and strapped on his apron over his long-sleeved white shirt, then studied himself in the mirror and shook his head. His whole life didn’t feel right. This apartment, his job at the store, his parents near broke. It was like he was living someone else’s life.

  He pulled his gaze from the stranger in the mirror, stepped out of the bathroom, and walked through his small apartment to the door leading to the staircase to the store on the first floor. His residence above the shop was provided as part of his pay.

  The stairs dumped him into a dark storage room where he flipped the master switch for the lights and grabbed the cash box from the safe. Then, he made his way to the front of the store to put the cash in the register drawer, unlocked the front door, and flip the sign to open.

  Through the cluttered window display, he could see the town coming to life. Cars filled the parking stalls in front of the café across the street. The mailman walked along the main thoroughfare, pulling envelopes from his bag and stuffing them into boxes affixed to buildings. A police cruiser drove by slowly. The red bubble on top wasn’t flashing. Always a good sign.

  First things first, he headed over to the lunch counter and started the coffee brewing, then he walked through the aisles, straightening the merchandise and taking note of what inventory needed to be ordered, a task recently assigned to him by the manager.

  Before he finished, Phil, bounded through the door with the daily bakery delivery. Followed by a lady and a small boy.

  Jack handed Phil a cup of coffee and they shot the breeze as he transferred the pastries from the box onto a glass-covered tray, then he snatched a custard-filled doughnut and took a bite to satisfy his growling stomach.

  The bells on the glass door clinked, drawing Jack’s attention. Gwendoline Dupont, Gary Tebon’s sister, stepped through. His heart did a little dance. She was the most divine creature. Beautiful inside and out. Her older brother Marvin had been his best friend. He often thought of his buddy. The pain associated with him being killed in action was still raw. Luckily, the Tebon family endured a better outcome with Gary.

  Gwendoline’s caramel gaze turned toward him. The flecks of green in her irises brightened the room nearly as much as the welcoming smile she flashed with her full, bow-shaped lips.

  She lifted her hand into the air and gave a quick wave. “Good morning, Jack and Phil.”

  “Morning,” he replied in unison with his friend.

  Without missing a beat, Gwendoline disappeared down aisle two and headed to the back of the store. Though she’d greeted them warmly, the usual bounce in her step was not present.

  “How in the hell did Arthur ever get her?” Phil asked. “I mean, yeah, he’s a war hero and all, and I respect that, but he’s also an arrogant ass. Always has been.”

  His friend took another sip of his coffee and kept his gaze on him as if he should respond. Jack wanted to reply all right, but his mother had taught him if he couldn’t say anything nice, he shouldn’t say anything at all. This was a hard practice when it came to his distant cousin, Arthur, or any of the Duponts for that matter. They were mean as rattlesnakes, yet so many people thought they walked on water. Arthur’s father, Lewis, was a top-notch doctor in terms of processes, but the guy’s bedside manner left a lot to be desired. He’d mastered the art of making kids cry, but fixed them up nonetheless. Deep down, he was glad to hear his comrade diss the guy.

  “And he’s so callous. A woman like Gwendoline deserves better,” Phil added.

  Jack nodded. “Love is funny. The heart wants what the heart wants.” And, since just before the war, his heart wanted her.

  “I hear she’s pregnant.”

  Jack’s chest tightened. The Dupont men were not known for their kindness to anyone, including their children. He hoped for Gwendoline’s sake Arthur would break the mold.

  Phil’s ceramic cup clinked against the countertop. “I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said as he turned and headed for the door.

  The woman and her child walked up to the checkout counter where the boy placed his coloring book on the counter. His mom paid, and they left.

  Jack made his way to the back of the store, in the hope to inconspicuously catch a glimpse of the beauty he wished was his. Finding her was easy. All he had to do was follow the delicious vanilla scent that hung in her wake.

  He risked a glance up at the security mirror that hung from the ceiling in the corner, hoping she wouldn’t catch him staring. Her lovely caramel gaze stayed fixed on the fish. She seemed as mesmerized by them as he was by her.

  Lowering his gaze, he peeked around the end of the aisle and studied her as she continued to stare at the carefree fish swimming around in their tanks. Her tense shoulders lowered, bringing his attention to her shiny strands of hair, the same base color as her eyes, that hung to midway down her back. His fingers itched to comb through those silky strands.

  Arthur. Jack shook his head. Some guys have all the luck.

  Gwendoline envied the tranquil fish. Tropical or gold, it didn’t matter. Not a care in the world. She sighed. She wasn’t so lucky, having recently made the biggest mistake of her life by marrying Arthur.

  Tears swelled in her eyes. The man had wooed her in just a few weeks—said and did all the right things to make her fall under his spell so quickly her head spun. Like nearly everyone in town, she’d gotten caught up in the hoopla of him returning from war a hero. It helped his family was one of the town’s most affluent. Women clamored for his attention, but he’d chosen her.

  His silver tongue wove that spell and talked her into giving up her maidenhood using a marriage proposal. With that, she hadn’t worried about using protection as she always wanted a family. Then, a week or so before the wedding, when she thought she might be pregnant, she couldn’t have been more excited and was on the verge of telling him when it turned out not to be true. Looking back now, she wished she had told him right away so she could have gaged his reaction before she said, “I do.” That way she would have known how he truly felt about her, marriage, and family, and she could have stopped the wedding.

  She swiped a tear from her cheek. But she hadn’t told him then, and now, here she stood, pregnant, reeling from her husband’s reaction.

  His awful words replayed in her head. “Honestly, I’d wanted more time before this happened. You know, perhaps a couple of years of fun before you’d have to spend all your time tending to crying babies and changing diapers. This really wasn’t how I envisioned this—our marriage...”

  Those words sliced through her heart like a knife. Still, she gave him the benefit of the doubt, hoping he’d come around once he had time to process the news. Wishing he’d be excited he’d planted his seed, that they’d conceived a child, that he’d have offspring bearing his name. But, after this morning’s blowout with him, she was disheartened, no amount of time would help.

  She brushed another tear from her cheek as she remembered how he’d pushed through the doorway of their bedroom and caught her eyeing herself in the full-length mirror, a hand splayed over the slight swell to her tummy. It wasn’t much of a bump, but it was there. She could feel it, inside and out. At that moment she had held hope he’d find happiness in this.

  Arthur had raked his gaze over her from her tummy to her eyes, then back down and up again. His dark eyes showed no excitement.

  Thinking she could sway him with a touch, she’d stepped toward him, took his large hand, and placed it to her stomach. Though he let her do it, his enthusiasm lacked. When he cleared his throat to speak, she prayed his words would be encouraging...but instead, they were the most hurtful she’d ever heard as he dropped his hand and shook his head. “A little bump there already. Seems kind of early. I hope this isn’t an indication of what we have to look forward to. We have upcoming social events I need you looking good for.”

  She’d burst into tears.

  “Great, already emotional, too,” he’d muttered as if that would help the situation.

  She’d spun away, threw on a shirt and pants, and practically ran out the door. He never even tried to console her. He was only worried about himself and his social standing.

  She’d left the house in such a huff she wasn’t even sure where she planned to go, then found herself driving downtown and parking on Main Street in front of the dime store. After entering, she immediately headed to the back where the fish and parakeets were. Ever since she was a kid, she enjoyed watching the fish. The flow of their movements and shimmer of colors relaxed her.

  How did she end up here—pregnant and married to a man who clearly did not want to have a family with her?

  A sob escaped her throat, and she buried her face in the palms of her hands. Her head spun. Sweat pooled in her armpits and on her temples. Her knees went weak. She felt herself falling. She flung out her hands, hoping to find a means to brace herself, but everything blurred beyond recognition.

  Warmth cloaked her, and her feet lifted from the floor. She floated contentedly as if she was as light as air. Then she lowered until her butt and back were supported by a hard surface.

  Cool skin pressed to her forehead. “Are you okay?”

  “Huh,” was all she could muster.

  “Gwendoline, it’s Jack. Can you hear me?”

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  Jack, her brother Marvin’s friend. Yes, she’d waved at him when she’d come into the store.

  She closed her eyelids and reopened them. Dark eyes, almost black, were fixed on her. His gaze couldn’t have emitted more concern.

  Gwen breathed out a long breath. “I’ll be fine. Just a bit light-headed.”

  “I’ll get you some water,” her brother’s friend said as he spun away and walked across the small room to a sink.

  He filled a paper cup from the tap and brought it back to her. Gentle hands brushed hers when he handed her the cup, and when her fingers shook so violently the water nearly splashed over the rim, he wrapped his around hers to steady them and helped lift the cup to her mouth.

  The cool liquid not only refreshed her throat but aided to steady her rolling stomach.

  Jack smiled softly. “Your color’s already coming back. Are you feeling any better?”

  She straightened herself on the wooden chair. “Yes, much better. Thank you.”

  He lowered his gaze until it landed on her hand resting on her belly. Her stomach fluttered at the affection emitting from Jack’s eyes., then it swirled at the thought of her husband’s lack of regard for her pregnancy.

  “You and Arthur must be very excited. Such a blessing,” the kind man said as his warm smile stretched.

  She should be thrilled. Her husband should be happy, but he wasn’t. She burst into tears.

  The poor man’s expression turned horrified. What must he think?

  He pulled the water glass from her fingers, set it on the shelf next to her, and then held her hand in a comforting manner. She shouldn’t be holding his hand, but in desperate need to soak in more of the soothing impression of his touch, she couldn’t let go.

  “Sorry. I just thought...is there anything I can do for you?”

  Unless he possessed the ability to go back and change history, correct the horrible mistake she’d made when she married Arthur, there was nothing this sweet man could do to fix this mess. Despair made her sob harder.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

  “Shh, it’ll be alright. Everything will be okay.” His comforting words rang softly in her ear.

  Why couldn’t she have married a man like Jack?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Is it an affair if it is only in your mind?

  This was the question Gwen had been asking herself for the past three years. From the moment she found herself in Jack Cornelis’ strong arms as he’d caught her from crashing to the floor when she’d nearly passed out in the store he now managed. Never in her life will she forget the heartfelt compassion in his dark-eyed gaze when she’d come out of her fog. That instant confirmed she’d married the wrong man. But, she’d said I do to Arthur, and those words—that pledge—meant something to her, even if it didn’t mean anything to him.

  She also had their son, Blake, to think about. He was a good boy and deserved two loving parents in the same home. A lump rose in her throat. Did Arthur really love their son? Little by little his actions led her to believe Blake was of little importance to him, and thankfully, he hadn’t laid a hand on their son as he did her. If ever he did, she’d bolt.

  Gwen leaned closer to the mirror. Her pulse ratcheted up as she dotted the ivory powder over what remained of the yellowish-brown coloring on her cheek. Today would be the first time she would leave the house in a week because she had needed to wait for the eggplant color of her cheek to subside enough to be concealed with makeup.

  A tinge of regret sifted through her as she recalled lying to her mother twice during the past seven days when she called to question why she and Blake hadn’t popped over to visit as they usually did. But she had no choice. The bruising this time had been too much to disguise, and she knew full well if her family knew what Arthur did to her, they wouldn’t stand for it, especially her dad and brother, and that would just cause Arthur to take it out on her. No, she couldn’t let them know.

  She eyed her handiwork. Thank goodness no sign of the bruise shone through, so she wouldn’t have to miss her weekly outing to the dime store—to see Jack. Like clockwork, every Wednesday since the moment she’d found herself in his arms, she made her way to the store to see him. Though they never touched each other physically, other than the time she’d nearly fainted, she couldn’t say the same in regard to emotionally. She tamped down the bit of guilt that always arose when she thought of Jack, she needed this, needed the human kindness.

  Blake charged into the room. She quickly reached out and straightened his cowboy hat that had flopped to the side and pulled the cord tighter under his chin. Since Jack had given him the hat a week ago, he wore it as much as he possibly could.

  Blake had beamed when he showed the hat to his dad, but all Arthur could do was grunt in response. And when her husband uncovered the truth about where the hat had come from, he snatched the hat from his son’s hand and threw it in the trashcan. Then he tore into her, accusing her of having an affair with Jack, and forbid her to go to the store. They’d been down this road before, and she’d thought she’d done a good job convincing her husband she wasn’t and that Jack was just a kind relative. She’d opened her mouth one more time to speak but no words escaped before his fist connected with her cheek. The blow had sent her flying back into the wall, then she collapsed to a heap on the floor. Her son sobbed in the corner.

  Arthur yanked her off the ground and got in her face one more time before he stormed out of the house. She hoped and prayed he wasn’t going to see Jack. Later, she’d discovered he spent the evening at the corner bar.

  Gwen’s shoulders slumped. She wanted to cry, but with her son before her, she refused to let the tears fall. And still, knowing she shouldn’t, she stood, took Blake’s hand, and headed for the car.

  One day out of the week, for only one hour, she had happiness.

  Gwen pushed her way through the front door of the dime store. The bells clinked against the glass causing Jack to glance over his shoulder from behind the lunch counter. He instantly flashed that warm smile she’d yearned for. He held her gaze for a moment before lowering it to Blake.

  “Howdy, partner.”

  Blake ran to Jack with his arms lifted in the air. The kind man scooped up her son, tossed him in the air a couple of times, then set him back on to his feet. Her son’s giggle was music to her ears. The guy was too good to be true; why some woman hadn’t snatched him up by now surprised her.

  Jack crouched down and tipped her son’s hat up. “You look like a real cowboy.”

  Little did this generous person know she had to dig the hat out of the garbage and try to explain to a toddler he could only wear it when his father wasn’t home. The need for this evasive behavior broke her heart.

  Her son beamed at the man’s words. “I a cowboy,” Blake corroborated excitedly as he pointed at himself.

  Jack’s smile stretched. “Yes, you are.”

  He picked her little cowboy up and sat him on a stool at the counter, then he stepped back behind it and pulled a plain doughnut from the case, broke it in two, and set it on a napkin in front of her eagerly waiting son.

  Her precious boy smiled and picked up a chunk.

  Gwen placed her hand over her swelling heart and couldn’t be more pleased by the attention this man gave her son. In an instant, her thoughts turned gloomy. How was it this man could interact so easily with her son, yet his father couldn’t—wouldn’t.

  Gwen sat, and Jack poured her a cup of coffee. Her chest lightened as her weekly one hour of happiness had begun.

  When she reached for the cup, Jack’s gaze landed on her arm. When his facial features hardened and jaw knotted, she lowered her gaze to where his attention was focused. Her heart slammed in her chest at the sight of her uncovered wrist. The sleeve had ridden up, exposing the traces of what remained of her husband’s handprint. Shame saturated every cell of her being as she pulled her arm back and tucked it under the counter.

  “Gwen,” he said solemnly.

  Though his concerned tone didn’t match his hard facial features that she glimpsed moments earlier, she was too ashamed to look up.

  He slid over placing himself directly in front of Blake, then he leaned forward over the counter. “Hey, partner, why don’t we go find you a coloring book and crayons? I think there’s one over there with cowboys and horses.”