Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  “Yes, well,” Jane said with false brightness, “have a safe trip. Nice to meet you, Grant.”

  “Likewise.”

  The curiosity in his voice promised this was going to be an excruciating conversation. If only she could avoid him the rest of the week.

  “We’ll talk in a couple of days,” Jane said to her with unspoken apology.

  “Don’t have the baby while I’m gone.”

  Jessica stood back as her sister maneuvered the wagon around and rolled down the wooded lane. She waited until it had disappeared from sight before very slowly turning to face him.

  Arms folded, he watched her with expectation.

  “You heard what I said.”

  His mouth curved into an infuriating grin. “Would’ve been hard not to.”

  “You enjoy seeing me squirm, don’t you?”

  Dropping his arms to his sides, he walked closer. “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s not very gentlemanly,” she said hotly.

  “We don’t know if I am one,” he retorted. “Stop stalling, and tell me why your family thinks you’re in danger of falling in love with me.”

  “Ugh.” Covering her eyes, she massaged her throbbing temples. “It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Huh?”

  Jessica forced herself to meet his gaze. “The man I told you about before—Lee Cavanaugh—my family didn’t approve of our connection. I ignored their warnings. Bad things happened. Because of that, they’ve all seen fit to warn me away from another potential mistake.”

  “Ah.”

  Smile fading, his attention strayed to a point beyond her shoulder. Her carelessness had wounded him.

  “Grant, I’m sorry.” She laid her hand on his upper arm, the bunched muscle firm beneath his cotton shirt. “It wasn’t my intention to imply… I didn’t mean…”

  “No need to apologize. I’m not exactly a prize catch for you or anyone else.” Clearing his throat, he edged out of her hold and gave her a tight smile. “They’re right to warn you away.”

  “This is a preposterous conversation,” she said at last. “We hardly know each other. You’re leaving, and I’m—” She broke off when his intense blue stare pinned her. “Not.”

  “Right.” Gaze hooded, he nodded. “Preposterous.”

  “Seeing as how you’re already upset with me, I may as well tell you that we’re going shopping.”

  His head jerked back. “Shopping.”

  “You can’t gather chestnuts without gloves. You’ll also need a hat and another set of clothes.”

  He planted his hands on his hips. “You’re forgetting I don’t have a way to pay for those items.”

  “Consider them payment for the chores you’ve been doing.”

  His eyes darkened to navy blue, and she hated that she’d made him feel inadequate. Again. But he couldn’t go on the trip unprepared.

  “The small tasks I’ve done aren’t enough to repay the food and shelter you’ve provided, much less provisions.”

  He started to return to the house. She waylaid him, her palm splayed against his chest. The thick muscles twitched. Awareness fired through her, setting her nerve endings aflame. She may not be in danger of falling for him, but her reaction to his nearness was proof enough that she was vulnerable.

  Removing her hand as casually as possible, she said, “I realize this isn’t easy for you. But unless you can produce a hat and gloves before Friday, you aren’t going.”

  He had the temerity to glare at her.

  She glared right back. “I suggest you set aside your pride, Mr. Parker, and accept my help.”

  “Pride?” he scoffed. “Not sure I know what that is anymore.”

  “Grant—”

  “Fine. You win,” he grated. “When?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Watching him hobble-stomp inside, the cane whacking the floor, she released a pent-up breath. Whirling about, she strode for the barn to ready their horses. He met her exactly eight minutes later in the yard, his hair freshly combed and his expression implacable.

  She handed him the reins to Galahad. “I thought riding would be easier on your ankle.”

  He inspected the sorrel, smoothing a hand along his neck and patting his flank. “I’ve been getting acquainted with him in the barn. Appears to have a fine temperament.”

  “He’s a big baby, but a reliable mount.”

  Before she could move around to her horse, Grant’s strong fingers captured her wrist and tugged her closer to his lean form. Pinpricks danced up her arm. She had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze, a move that brought his generous lips into a kissable zone.

  “I apologize for being testy,” he muttered. “It’s difficult to accept handouts.”

  “Would it make it any easier if I were a man?”

  His blond brows lifted. “No.”

  “I don’t know why you wound up on our property. We aren’t wealthy, but purchasing necessities for you isn’t going to bankrupt us. And who knows? By helping you get back on your feet, we may be helping someone else down the line. Someone who’ll need your help.”

  “Beautiful and insightful,” he teased, features softening. “I can’t argue with your reasoning.” Giving her hand a firm squeeze, he released her and, tying his cane to the saddle, hauled himself up. His grimace was fleeting as he righted himself. “I’m fortunate to have friends like you and Alice. No matter where I end up, I won’t ever forget what you’ve done for me.”

  *

  He should work to keep his physical distance. Not search for opportunities to be near her.

  During the ride into town, he focused on the surrounding forest’s untamed beauty, allowing himself infrequent glances at his companion. At ease in the saddle, Jessica had seemed preoccupied, an almost imperceptible worry pinching her forehead. Grant couldn’t be blamed for thinking he was the cause. He was yet another complication in her life.

  That her family was concerned about her emotional state compounded the problem. The O’Malleys were tolerating his presence—for the time being. If they knew his secret thoughts, that to him she was the perfect balance of sweet and sassy, a complicated challenge he’d readily take on if given the chance, if they found out he’d been tempted to kiss her, they’d run him out of town. Sheriff Shane Timmons wouldn’t do a thing to stop them, either. He’d applaud their wisdom.

  No one could learn of his regard.

  While it had stung to hear her say a relationship with him would be a mistake, he couldn’t argue with the truth.

  The rushing of water over rocks drew him back to the present. Up ahead, the profusion of towering trees gave way to open sky. When they reached the wide wooden bridge suspended above the river, he pulled up on the reins to take it all in. Steep banks contained what he gauged to be thigh-deep water. Rocks lined the edges. In the middle section, where the river flowed unchecked, hues of orange, red and gold shimmered on the green surface, rippling reflections of the trees. He dismounted, irked that his muscles were stiff after such a brief ride. Being weak was for the elderly and infirm. He was not shaping up to be a long-suffering patient.

  Bracing his forearms on the bridge’s railing, his gaze trailed a pair of brown-tufted ducks floating along with the current. Jessica joined him, keeping several feet between them.

  He gestured to the wood-framed buildings on the far side of the bridge. “So this is Gatlinburg.”

  “Yes.”

  Nestled in a valley, the quaint town was encircled by mountains, their rounded peaks framed against blue sky. The river curved to their left. From their vantage point, he could see the lane behind the businesses on this side of Main Street. She gestured to a wagon parked at the base of a set of steep stairs.

  “That’s the mercantile and dress shop my sister Nicole and Quinn own. People make deliveries at all hours of the day.” Leading her horse across the bridge, she beckoned. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

  They hitched th
eir horses to the post outside the first shop they came to. “Jane’s husband, Tom, used to own the barbershop.” She pointed to the wide window. “He sold it several years ago.”

  “And now he does what?”

  “He’s a farmer like most everyone else.”

  The main thoroughfare was a dry, dusty road wide enough to accommodate three wagons side by side. A couple of stray dogs trotted across at the far end. Townspeople traversed the boardwalks on either side or congregated in small groups. To his right, she pointed out Josh and Kate’s establishment, as well as the Plum Café and the post office. The jail was farther down. On the left side of the street, the mercantile dominated much of the street front. He spied the livery beside it.

  A stately white church with stained-glass windows was situated at the far end facing them, the lush, sweeping yard interspersed with trees and flanked on one side by a gated cemetery. With the mountains rising up behind it, it looked like a masterpiece painting.

  “See that lane leading into the trees beyond the church? Nicole and her family live about a mile down. My other sister Megan lives that way with her husband and children.” She indicated the road winding beside the river.

  Grant noticed the wide-eyed stares and whispers the same time as Jessica. Some were more tactful in their curiosity than others. “We’ve been spotted.”

  “So it seems.” Her demeanor shifted, her expression shuttering.

  On impulse, he seized her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, tucking her close to his side.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, eyes large in her face.

  “They want something to talk about.” He jerked his thumb to the gawkers across the street. “Why not give it to them?”

  Slowly, her surprise transformed into something akin to impishness. “You’re right.” Before he could guess her intent, she went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek. He froze. Lightning-swift heat arrowed from her lips to the soles of his feet. He felt anchored to the earth not by gravity, but by her.

  Jessica’s smile fascinated him. He knew, in that moment, that he was seeing the woman she used to be before the fire, before the man she loved died in her presence, before misplaced guilt and regret imprisoned her true self.

  The ground rumbled beneath his boots. It took him a few seconds to realize it wasn’t due to her kiss but a passing wagon.

  “Now they truly have something to talk about.” Tossing her head, she tugged him toward the mercantile. He would’ve let her lead him anywhere.

  The bell above the entrance jangled when they entered. An interesting combination of smells washed over him—leather, sour pickles, the twang of dried fruit, fragrant, flowery soaps. Fat barrels lined the outer walls. Floor-to-ceiling shelving along the interior wall and behind the sales counter held everything from colorful stacks of fabric bolts to china sets to metal birdcages. Customers perusing the aisles and those waiting at the long counter to purchase their goods turned as one to see who’d come in. Grant held his breath, waiting for someone to recognize him. Maybe scream in fright and call for the law. Nothing happened.

  Fingers tightening on his sleeve, Jessica moved toward the counter with confidence.

  The distinguished, raven-haired man weighing a sack of sugar looked up and smiled. “Jess. How are you today?” He flicked an inquisitive glance at Grant.

  “Hi, Quinn. We’ve come in to purchase a hat and some other things.” She made the introductions. Interest gleamed in the businessman’s shrewd gaze. As his hands were full, he nodded in welcome.

  Jessica introduced him to her sister Nicole, who didn’t resemble the twins in the slightest. Due to her impeccable clothing and regal carriage, she oozed sophistication. Where the twins were warmth and exuberance, she was cool and reserved. They were flames to her ice. Inky-black ringlets were piled atop her head, in contrast to milk-white skin and eyes an unusual shade of violet.

  Grant wondered if she perhaps had a different father or was adopted. Whatever the case, she was courteous and knowledgeable and made the purchasing process bearable, considering he was spending Jessica’s money. Leaving the sisters to converse while wrapping up his choices, he wandered over to the notice board. There were advertisements for garden equipment and livestock. A single job announcement caught his attention.

  He couldn’t survive without resources of his own. And he absolutely refused to go into further debt to the O’Malleys.

  “Are you ready?” Jessica appeared at his side. He relieved her of the parcels, tucking them under one arm while opening the door for her.

  “I have one stop to make before we return home,” he told her out on the boardwalk. “It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Would you like for me to come with you?” A breeze teased free a long strand, and it snagged on her lips. He tried not to stare as she tugged it free.

  “This is something I have to do on my own.”

  He’d expected her to question him. Instead, she pointed to a long bench in front of the mercantile’s window. “I’ll wait here.” As he deposited the parcels beside her on the seat, she unwrapped the largest one and held it aloft. “Sun’s bright today. You’ll need this.”

  Witnessing her expectant pleasure, he couldn’t refuse. Dropping the fawn-colored Stetson into place, he ran his fingers along the stiff brim and gave her an exaggerated wink. “What do you think? Is it my color?”

  “It’s perfect.” She rewarded him with a sunny smile, one he could quickly become used to.

  Heading for the livery, he rehearsed what he might say to convince the owner to give him a job. He strode into the weathered structure, pausing to get his bearings in the dim interior. The place smelled of stale hay and sweaty animals. All but two of the enclosures were occupied. On the far wall hung tools and tack. A wagon sat empty in the opposite entrance.

  “Can I help you?” A stout, grizzled man emerged from the corner stall wiping his hands on the dirt-streaked smock covering his clothes.

  “Are you Milton Warring?”

  “That’s the name.”

  Grant removed his hat and tapped it against his thigh. “I’m here about the employment notice you placed in the mercantile.”

  Warring’s narrowed focus lowered, and Grant immediately stilled his hand. Letting a potential employer see his nervousness wasn’t a good idea. Weakness, either, which was why he’d left the cane with Jessica.

  “I’m Grant Parker. I’m staying with the O’Malleys, and I need a paying position to cover room and board.”

  Scraping his bristly jaw, Warring frowned. “Heard about you. They say you have…oh, what’s it called?”

  “Amnesia.”

  “That’s it. Amnesia. So you don’t remember anything about yourself?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Not your ma or pa? Your home?”

  “No. Nothing.” He got a sinking sensation in his gut.

  “That’s a shame. I can’t help you.” Shaking his head in dismissal, he turned and would’ve gone back to work if Grant hadn’t surged forward, hand outstretched.

  “Wait. My lack of memory won’t impact my ability to be a loyal employee. I’m a hard worker.” He worked to keep his expression neutral, to hide the desperation boiling beneath the surface.

  “You expect me to entrust my livelihood into the hands of a stranger?” He motioned to their surroundings. “You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  “Just give me a week. I’ll work without pay. If you decide to keep me on, you’ll owe me for the work I completed. If you decide not to, I’ll walk away with nothing.”

  Grant clenched his jaw, waiting for the man’s decision and despising his life in that moment.

  “You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

  His chest tight, he replaced the hat he couldn’t pay for and nodded tersely. “Good day, Mr. Warring.”

  They both knew his chances of finding work were slim. He left the man staring after him, his pride in pieces on the floor.

  CHAPTER TWELVE
>
  “Your friend’s finished with his errand, Jessica.” Pete looped his thumbs in his waistband and rocked back on his heels. “Sure don’t look happy.”

  Lowell whistled softly. “Looks like he swallowed a pickled peach. Maybe he doesn’t like you talking to us.”

  From her spot on the bench, Jessica angled to the left, instantly aware something was wrong. Grant stalked toward them, hands fisted at his sides, anger billowing off him in waves. A muscle worked in his tight jaw. The new hat cast his eyes in shadow, but they burned into her and the pair of men who’d stopped to chat.

  Bolting to her feet, she gathered the purchases. “I have to go.”

  “Ditch the leech and come have pie with me,” Lowell cajoled, gesturing over his shoulder to the café. “Won’t be as good as yours, of course, but a guy has to take what he can get.”

  The paper wrapping crinkled beneath her hands. “I’m not in the mood for pie. And even if I were, I wouldn’t share it with a man who resorted to calling others names in order to make himself look better by comparison.”

  Pete chuckled. Glaring, Lowell elbowed him. He lowered his voice. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. He’s a leech, Jessica, sucking you and your ma dry. Has he paid you anything for your hospitality?”

  Grant neared, and Jessica was desperate to shut Lowell up. Erasing the distance between them, she warned, “Not another word, Lowell, or you’ll be eating pie all by your lonesome for the rest of your life. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Surprise flitted through his dark eyes. He put his palms up. “No call to be ornery. It was an observation. Touchy, aren’t we?”

  Pete stroked his chin. “I think the lady is infatuated with Gatlinburg’s latest visitor.”

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Grant’s eyes glittered as he took in her proximity to Lowell.

  “No need to apologize. These gentlemen were on their way to the café for dessert.”

  Jessica made a brief introduction. Lowell’s smirk smacked of challenge, his brown eyes falsely innocent. “Would you two care to join us?” he said.

  Grant’s frown grew more pronounced. Before he could respond, she linked their arms. “We can’t. I have rhubarb pie waiting on us at home. Good day, fellows.”