events of the previous night had set them back from their place of tentative smiles and quick waves.
Esther took in the floor, then Claire. “Did you tell my uncle?”
“Tell your uncle?” she parroted in confusion before the meaning behind her friend’s words grew clear. “Oh! No . . . Things were crazy last night with finding Harley . . .” She shook her head, redirecting the conversation from a path none of them wanted to go down at that moment. “Shall I tell him now?”
Jakob looked from one to the other, his brow furrowed. “Tell me what?”
At Esther’s quick nod, Claire closed the gap between herself and Jakob, the change in tone one she was anxious to share with a man who was in dire need of a little happy news. “Eli has asked for Esther’s hand in marriage.”
The dimples that had, only moments earlier, been missing in action sprang to the surface of Jakob’s cheeks. “And?” he asked Claire while focusing entirely on his niece.
Esther’s answer came by way of the tiniest hop and the shortest, faintest squeal Claire had ever heard. But it was enough. Jakob clapped his hands with pleasure. “Esther, that is wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful! Congratulations! Eli is a lucky, lucky man.”
For a moment, Claire didn’t think Esther was going to say anything, but, in the blink of an eye, Esther’s smile was followed by a whispered thank-you and a split second of heartfelt eye contact between the pair. Then, Esther was gone, disappearing out into the alley as Eli’s horse drew to a stop outside the shop’s side window. Claire watched her go, reveling in the beauty of a moment that had Jakob looking happier than he had in weeks. Yet when she turned back to enjoy the smile for a second time, she found that it had been dulled by the visible mist in his eyes.
“Jakob? What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy that she spoke to you, that she wanted you to know her big news.”
He swiped a hurried hand across his eyes and did his best to re-create the smile that only moments earlier had been so genuine. “I am happy for Esther and for Eli. The love they have for each other is plain as day. For that, I am grateful.”
“Then why am I sensing you’re sad, too?”
Seconds passed before he finally answered, the huskiness of his voice a dead giveaway to the emotion he was fighting to keep in check. “Because of my choice, I will not be invited to share in Esther and Eli’s day.”
Chapter 6
D iane Weatherly was many things. She was caring, generous, welcoming, and loving, to name a few. But subtle? That she wasn’t. When it came to Claire’s romantic future, Diane was like a Mack Truck driving through Claire’s confused thoughts and emotions with one singular suitor in mind.
What Claire had been thinking, then, when she invited the detective to dinner at the inn, was mind-boggling at best. Especially when the look Diane still sported nearly an hour after the meal’s conclusion was enough to send shivers down her niece’s spine.
Still, though, she’d done the right thing. Jakob could use a friend, someone who’d listen when he needed an ear, smile when he needed a distraction, and offer a few heartfelt words of encouragement amid the internal debate she knew raged inside. If stepping in to fill that role added fuel to the Claire-belongs-with-Jakob fire Diane had been stoking for months, then so be it. Claire could always toss dirt on it at a later date.
Or so she told herself . . .
“Dinner was fantastic, Diane.” Jakob dropped onto the center of the rose-colored couch and smiled at the now-beaming woman on the other side of the candlelit parlor. “I can see why this place is booked nearly three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
“You’re welcome anytime, dear,” Diane enthused before pointing Claire toward the empty cushion beside Jakob. “Claire, please sit. You look tired.”
She considered protesting—the woman’s true intentions were far more about placing
Esther took in the floor, then Claire. “Did you tell my uncle?”
“Tell your uncle?” she parroted in confusion before the meaning behind her friend’s words grew clear. “Oh! No . . . Things were crazy last night with finding Harley . . .” She shook her head, redirecting the conversation from a path none of them wanted to go down at that moment. “Shall I tell him now?”
Jakob looked from one to the other, his brow furrowed. “Tell me what?”
At Esther’s quick nod, Claire closed the gap between herself and Jakob, the change in tone one she was anxious to share with a man who was in dire need of a little happy news. “Eli has asked for Esther’s hand in marriage.”
The dimples that had, only moments earlier, been missing in action sprang to the surface of Jakob’s cheeks. “And?” he asked Claire while focusing entirely on his niece.
Esther’s answer came by way of the tiniest hop and the shortest, faintest squeal Claire had ever heard. But it was enough. Jakob clapped his hands with pleasure. “Esther, that is wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful! Congratulations! Eli is a lucky, lucky man.”
For a moment, Claire didn’t think Esther was going to say anything, but, in the blink of an eye, Esther’s smile was followed by a whispered thank-you and a split second of heartfelt eye contact between the pair. Then, Esther was gone, disappearing out into the alley as Eli’s horse drew to a stop outside the shop’s side window. Claire watched her go, reveling in the beauty of a moment that had Jakob looking happier than he had in weeks. Yet when she turned back to enjoy the smile for a second time, she found that it had been dulled by the visible mist in his eyes.
“Jakob? What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy that she spoke to you, that she wanted you to know her big news.”
He swiped a hurried hand across his eyes and did his best to re-create the smile that only moments earlier had been so genuine. “I am happy for Esther and for Eli. The love they have for each other is plain as day. For that, I am grateful.”
“Then why am I sensing you’re sad, too?”
Seconds passed before he finally answered, the huskiness of his voice a dead giveaway to the emotion he was fighting to keep in check. “Because of my choice, I will not be invited to share in Esther and Eli’s day.”
Chapter 6
D iane Weatherly was many things. She was caring, generous, welcoming, and loving, to name a few. But subtle? That she wasn’t. When it came to Claire’s romantic future, Diane was like a Mack Truck driving through Claire’s confused thoughts and emotions with one singular suitor in mind.
What Claire had been thinking, then, when she invited the detective to dinner at the inn, was mind-boggling at best. Especially when the look Diane still sported nearly an hour after the meal’s conclusion was enough to send shivers down her niece’s spine.
Still, though, she’d done the right thing. Jakob could use a friend, someone who’d listen when he needed an ear, smile when he needed a distraction, and offer a few heartfelt words of encouragement amid the internal debate she knew raged inside. If stepping in to fill that role added fuel to the Claire-belongs-with-Jakob fire Diane had been stoking for months, then so be it. Claire could always toss dirt on it at a later date.
Or so she told herself . . .
“Dinner was fantastic, Diane.” Jakob dropped onto the center of the rose-colored couch and smiled at the now-beaming woman on the other side of the candlelit parlor. “I can see why this place is booked nearly three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
“You’re welcome anytime, dear,” Diane enthused before pointing Claire toward the empty cushion beside Jakob. “Claire, please sit. You look tired.”
She considered protesting—the woman’s true intentions were far more about placing
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