Jess knew that he had his pick of any woman he desired in the city, all from wealthy families that could further his career. He had studied and then cultivated the casual air and genial attitude of the wealthiest boys in his fraternity. These men could laugh at the banalities of life, knowing that nothing—certainly not lack of money or connections—stood in the way of their ultimate happiness. It was not a sense of entitlement they radiated, Jess reasoned, it was the lack of burden. They were free of worry. Jess wrapped that persona around himself like a security blanket, believing that acting as though he hadn’t a care in the world would make it so. It did the job, for a while. Life fell into place—the women, the friends, and ultimately, upon graduation, a great job with a solid future. Jess Stewart had succeeded in erasing the specter of his humble past.
The only thing that remained was choosing a suitable bride. His roommate had already cemented a favorable alliance with an altogether pleasant, if a bit plain and dull, woman in town, a woman who certainly could further his career, and Jess was determined to do the same for himself.
Sally Reade, the girl Jess had known since his early days in college, stood out from a wide field of competitors. She was flighty, yes, and a trifle unstable. But her family was among the wealthiest in the state. Not only would she bring a sizeable fortune into the marriage but also a great sense of fun. Oh, Jess had witnessed her bouts of sullen moping, but they were contrasted with periods of wild energy. At those times, she threw fabulous parties and floated among the crowd of guests, chatting, laughing, and keeping people entertained until all hours. She was already building a reputation as one of the finest hostesses in town. Further, her family liked Jess. They found him to be a stabilizing influence on their unpredictable daughter. Her father had said, over and over again, that Jess—strong, solid, sensible Jess—was a good match for Sally. He anchored her. Jess hadn’t proposed outright yet, but everyone saw it coming on the road ahead.
As Jess considered all of this, he felt a twinge of guilt about reneging on the life he had planned throughout his youth with Addie. It was true that none of the women he courted, especially not Sally, could measure up to the intimacy he felt with Addie. Jess tried to brush it aside, but it nagged at him. He told himself that old sentimentality and childhood promises simply could not govern the actions of a successful man bound on securing his future, could they? He would not allow the silly machinations of his childhood to ruin his chances for success in the cold, harsh, adult world of business. Surely Addie would be able to see that, too. Besides, Addie was a child. In retrospect, his relationship with Addie started to look like that of siblings. She was like a little sister to him. Still, he felt a twinge of excitement at the idea of seeing her again. It had been so long.
As the train moved ever closer to the station and Jess ruminated further on his future, Addie was dressing in preparation for his arrival. She had scarcely been able to contain her excitement for days—finally, the long wait was over. She put on the new blue dress she and her mother had made for this occasion, smoothing the skirt and fiddling with the collar over and over again with shaking hands. She brushed her hair until it shone, allowing it to fall freely around her face instead of tying it in the knot she usually wore behind her head. She looked at the clock again and again. Two hours until he arrives.
Meanwhile, on the train, Jess was carefully planning his exit speech. He had thought about simply writing to Addie—words on paper, carefully thought out and considered—it was a much easier way of dealing with a difficult subject. However, he was aware that this young girl had loved him for her entire life. She had been waiting for him for four long years. He needed to let her down as gently as possible. I have met someone else, a woman of substance . . . No matter how much our friendship means to me . . . He rehearsed it over and over in his mind, always failing to find the right words. The vision of her disappointed young face created a gnawing in his stomach. He didn’t want to hurt her. And yet . . .
As the train pulled to a stop at its destination, the fog settled around the station. Jess disembarked slowly, unable to see more than two feet in either direction. It had been so long . . . Where was the station? Which way was home? He was reminded of that day long ago, when he had found baby Addie in the lake. It was the same kind of blinding whiteness, the same kind of tangible cloud that felt like a living blanket had covered the entire earth.
He was standing alone, turning this way and that, watching the few other passengers get off the train and disappear into the whiteness. I should go that way, he thought, when a woman materialized in front of him.
The sight of her literally took Jess’s breath away. He felt as though the fog itself had rushed into his lungs, snatching his ability to breathe and withholding it from him. His heart was beating so loudly that Jess was sure everyone within earshot could hear it.
The woman was Addie, of course. But she was not the young girl Jess had left behind. With all his strategizing about the future, with all his thoughts about finding a bride, he had somehow neglected one detail: Addie was growing up. While he himself didn’t see much change in his own mirror during his college years, Addie had literally transformed from a child into a woman—the most beautiful woman Jess had ever seen or imagined. Her long, auburn hair fell in soft curls around her face. Her mouth curved into a slight, mysterious smile. She was wearing a deep-blue dress that showed off her tiny waist and curvy figure. Jess thought she was absolutely exquisite, completely changed. Only her piercing violet eyes were the same as he remembered.
He stared at her in stunned silence. She, too, seemed stunned, but not by his appearance. He looked a bit older, yes, but he was largely the same as the day he left. She was reacting to his awestruck countenance. He seemed overwhelmed by her, and she didn’t know what to make of it. When she imagined their reunion—and she had imagined it over and over during these four years—she thought it would be a joyous encounter filled with laughter, hugs, and kisses. This was something else again. She had not expected him to be mute at the sight of her.
He extended his hand to her face and brushed the curls back, gingerly, delicately, as though she might dissipate like the fog at his slightest touch. He just kept staring as though he was seeing a ghost, his eyes searching for the young girl he had left behind. This was no little sister. What had he been thinking?
“Welcome home,” she said, finally.
His face broke into an enormous smile. He took her hands into his, murmuring, “My goodness, Addie Cassatt. You’ve grown up.”
In that moment on the train station platform, Jess Stewart’s future changed. Or, more exactly, it fell back into its rightful place. He had been dangerously close to veering off course, but now he was back on it. Without giving it another thought, he immediately and absolutely abandoned his well-considered plan to marry a suitable wife from a good family in the city. Sally Reade—or the idea of Sally Reade, a fine society wife—faded from his mind in an instant, the scales fell from his eyes, and he finally saw clearly. How could he have ever considered marrying anyone other than Addie Cassatt? She was his best friend and a stunning woman. Thank God he hadn’t let her down in a letter! He could scarcely believe his good luck. He might have ruined it all, he might never have had her. He had trained himself to fit into the high-society circles in which he now traveled, he could train Addie to do the same. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of this before?