“He said he didn’t want his father’s clients seeing us.”
“That made sense then?”
Ruth felt foolish.
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
She searched.
“He asked strange questions.”
“What kind?”
Ruth stood.
“About Mrs. Keller.”
Jonah waited.
“Whether she kept records.”
“What records?”
“Guest books.”
His face sharpened.
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Dates?”
“Yes.”
Ruth’s stomach tightened.
“He once asked whether old ledgers were stored after they were full.”
Jonah became very still.
“What did you say?”
“That Mrs. Keller kept everything.”
“Where?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Did Edwin?”
Ruth thought.
“No.”
Then stopped.
“Maybe.”
Jonah waited.
“The night before he disappeared, he came to see me.”
“What happened?”
“He was nervous.”
Ruth could still remember Edwin pacing under the cottonwoods.
“He asked whether there was an attic.”
Jonah’s expression changed.
“Did you tell him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
She frowned.
“At least I thought nothing.”
Jonah pushed away from the wall.
“Was there a break-in afterward?”
Ruth stared.
Two days after Edwin left, Mrs. Keller had complained someone had gone through storage trunks upstairs.
At the time they assumed a guest.
“Yes.”
Jonah’s jaw tightened.
“What was stolen?”
“I don’t know.”
“We find out tomorrow.”
Ruth looked toward the window.
“At the boardinghouse.”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
“Our wedding morning and you’re already investigating my former sweetheart.”
“Technically it’s evening.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then Jonah reached for the door.
Ruth caught his blanket again.
He stopped.
“You are still going?”
“I said I’d sleep elsewhere.”
“You also said there are things we need to think about.”
“We can think tomorrow.”
Ruth looked at the bed.
Then at him.
“Stay until I fall asleep.”
Jonah’s expression softened.
“That I can do.”
He sat on the floor against the wall.
Ruth stared.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“You could sit on the bed.”
He looked at her as though she had suggested juggling knives.
“I could.”
“But you won’t.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Goodnight, Jonah.”
“Goodnight, Ruth.”
She changed behind the dressing screen.
When she emerged in a modest white nightgown, Jonah was looking determinedly at the opposite wall.
Ruth climbed beneath the quilt.
The room was quiet.
Strange.
New.
But not frightening.
After a while she whispered, “Jonah?”
“Yes?”
“You may look at me.”
His head turned.
Ruth smiled slightly.
“I’m covered.”
“I know.”
“Then stop behaving like I’ll accuse you of a felony if our eyes meet.”
His mouth twitched.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She closed her eyes.
The last thing Ruth remembered before sleeping was the shape of Jonah against the wall.
Still awake.
Still guarding the room.
Still asking for nothing.