Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  Grant’s fingers tangled in her hair, and she gasped, jerking her gaze to his. “You, ah, had something in your hair.” He pulled out a misshapen leaf and held it up for her inspection.

  She continued to stare at him, and he dropped his hand to his lap. “You didn’t let me finish earlier.”

  “No need.” She strove for a casual air, hoping he wouldn’t see the hectic pulse at her throat. He didn’t want to marry her. So what?

  “Yes, there is.” He sighed. “If you hadn’t dived into your tent, I would’ve said that I can’t marry anyone because I don’t know if I’m already married. It has nothing to do with you personally.”

  Oh. Annoyed at the relief rushing through her, she flipped her ponytail behind her shoulder. “Like I said, your marital status makes no difference to me.”

  One blond brow quirked, his expression challenging. He opened his mouth to speak and was prevented by the arrival of Eve and Lydia. Eve hefted a container full of dirty pots and utensils. “Do you mind if we wash here, Miss Jessica?”

  “Not at all.”

  Setting it on the ground with a thump, Eve handed a towel to Lydia. Seeing their interest in Grant, Jessica introduced them. Both girls blushed at his charming greeting.

  “Did you like my drawing, Miss Jessica?” Lydia asked.

  “Very much. You’re a talented artist. Thank you, again.”

  “What did you do to deserve such a gift?” Grant asked her, stacking a clean mug atop the rest.

  “She saved my dolly from drowning,” Lydia piped up, her eyes big and adoring.

  “I see.” Grant’s smile was centered on Jessica, and her insides went all mushy, despite her earlier irritation with him. “Well, that’s a nice thing to do.”

  Unable to form a coherent response, she concentrated on finishing her task and fleeing his confounding presence. When the basin became full, he went to retrieve another. Content to listen to the girls chatter about their older siblings and home in the outskirts of Cades Cove, she was washing her last plate when Lydia cried out.

  Jessica’s head shot up in time to see the knife fall into the water. Lydia stared in openmouthed horror at her flattened hand. Eve grabbed her wrist and paled.

  “Miss Jessica! She’s cut herself. It’s bad!”

  Feeling as if she were moving through a gallon of sticky syrup, she reached Lydia and, taking her small hand, inspected the injury. Blood spurted from the gash. The girl’s crying rang in her ears. Suddenly, she was back in the barn, the stench of kerosene strangling her and the blood pooling on Lee’s stomach. Fear rendered her limbs useless. He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  “Miss Jessica—” someone was tugging on her sleeve “—you have to do something.”

  And then Grant was there, nudging her out of the way, ripping a towel into strips. She watched, numb to the core, as he soothed the child and quickly bound her hand.

  “Can you get her to your parents?” he asked Eve.

  “Yes, sir.” Pointing to a nearby site where a man and woman conversed by a fire, she said, “That’s them.”

  “Your ma can see to her wound. I’ll come by and check on her in a bit.”

  “Thank you, sir.” With a furtive glance at Jessica, Eve curved a supportive arm around her sister and led her away.

  Jessica didn’t realize she was crying until Grant came and wiped the moisture away with his fingertips. Lacing his fingers through her cold ones, he nodded upstream. “Come with me.”

  Blindly she went with him, fresh guilt compacting upon old guilt. Following the water’s meandering path, he led her farther into the dense forest, and when she stumbled for the second time, he released her hand, wrapped his arm about her waist and guided her to where there were no people.

  Stopping in a copse of fir trees, he pressed a handkerchief in her hand.

  “I couldn’t help her. I wanted to, but I…” More tears slipped down her cheeks, and her hands shook as she attempted to sop up the mess.

  Grant stayed close, caressing her arm, his eyes brimming with understanding. “I know.”

  Shame barreled through her at the remembrance of Eve’s parting glance. “She needed me, and I couldn’t help her.”

  “Like you couldn’t help him.”

  Jessica sniffed, too distressed to argue.

  “Tell me about Lee. Tell me everything.”

  Her head bowed, she stared at their dusty boots and the leaf-littered ground. “No.”

  The truth would change his view of her, and she craved his good opinion.

  He gently tipped up her chin, giving her no choice but to meet his gaze head-on. “You’ve held it in for far too long, my sweet.”

  “I made a horrible mistake,” she whispered.

  “I don’t matter, remember? So you can unburden yourself and not worry about the future.”

  The tenderness in his manner brought on a fresh wave of sorrow, and she wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he most certainly did matter. That despite her best efforts, her heart had decided he was important.

  He pulled her into his embrace, his arms linking low on her back. She cried into the curve of his neck and shoulder, the steady thump of his heartbeat reassuring beneath her cheek. He held her until there were no more tears left to be spilled, and his shirt was damp.

  She stirred. Loath to leave the haven of his arms, but aware she couldn’t remain there forever, she made to move away. Grant’s hold tightened. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his breath stirring her hair, before releasing her.

  He didn’t let her retreat, however. He joined their hands, his expression telling her he’d wait here until Christmas if need be.

  So she told him how Lee had convinced everyone that he’d come to Gatlinburg in search of a simple country life. There’d been no reason not to believe him. She told him about Jane’s suspicions, how she’d witnessed him selling homemade moonshine to locals.

  “I refused to believe her, so she pretended to be me and wangled an invitation to his home.” After all the crying, her eyes were puffy and her throat full of needles.

  His jaw dropped. “Jane tricked him into thinking she was you?”

  “Doesn’t strike you as the type to do something that bold, does she?”

  His incredulous gaze roamed her face. “I’m guessing you didn’t take the news well.”

  “I was incensed. Hurt, too. I felt betrayed. So much so that I didn’t care that she’d found evidence of a major moonshine production.”

  His frown turned thoughtful. “Revenue collectors turned their attention to this area in recent years. They were determined to enforce the excise tax.”

  “Yes. How did you…”

  “Not sure.” Pulling away, he tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Did Lee catch on?”

  “Yes. He told her that his business associates were dangerous, and that she should keep quiet. He promised he’d get out as soon as he made enough money to set us up for a good life.”

  He should’ve known she didn’t care about excess material wealth.

  “She didn’t heed his warning, did she?”

  “No. Tom discovered her pretense, as well. They went to Shane with their information.”

  “That’s why he makes you uncomfortable. He knows the whole story.”

  Pacing away, she lifted her face to the weakening rays of the sun slanting through the trees. The colorful patchwork of leaves filled her vision. She wondered what it would be like way up there, far above the cares of the earth.

  “How did you wind up in your barn?”

  “Jane came to Lee’s place looking for me. She stumbled upon him and his boss, John Farnsworth. And then I swooped in, waving my weapon around, positive I could save her.”

  Grant gently turned her to face him, the fierceness wreathing his features at odds with his touch. “What you did was extremely brave and noble.”

  “She never would’ve been at his mercy if I’d listened to her. I was stubborn and stupid and�
��”

  “Stop,” he commanded. “You were in love with the man. Of course you weren’t going to believe him of wrongdoing. Not without seeing the proof with your own eyes.”

  “I still don’t understand how I missed the signs he was hiding something. I feel like the biggest idiot on earth.”

  “That’s what con artists do. They prey on people’s belief in basic human decency.” The matter-of-factness in his tone took them both by surprise. Stroking his light beard, he shook away his confusion. “So you confronted them on Lee’s property. Why were you on yours?”

  “Farnsworth planned to cover up our deaths by burning our barn to the ground.” A shudder racked her frame. “I’ll never forget that man’s face. There was no compassion in him, only evil.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “He’s spending the rest of his life in prison.”

  Cupping her cheek, Grant murmured, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For trusting me. It’s a strange thing not to be trusted. Or needed.”

  Jessica’s heart fluttered in her chest. Heady emotion crashed through her, bittersweet and poignant and wistful. For the first time since Lee’s death, she experienced hope.

  Above their heads, a pair of robins burst from the branches. With a rueful smile, Grant put distance between them. “You ready to return to camp?”

  She balled the soaked handkerchief in her fist. “I’d like to see Lydia and apologize.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. But we can stop and see her.” He started walking, and she fell into step beside him. She felt his perusal. “Did talking about it help?”

  “A little.”

  “You still hold yourself responsible, though.”

  Jessica didn’t respond.

  “He deceived you, Jessica. By keeping his criminal activities secret, he put you in danger. You couldn’t control his actions. In the end, he decided to fight back. To try to save you and your sister. And Jane made her decision. She chose to protect you.”

  “I can’t stop thinking if I had gone to Shane in the beginning, we never would’ve ended up in that barn.”

  “You can’t know for sure what the outcome might’ve been. And what about Lee’s culpability? He’s the one who was breaking the law.” Banked anger glittered in his gaze. “Have you ever considered your grief might be marring your perception of things? If he hadn’t died, if Lee was sitting in prison right now, would you feel differently?”

  Grant continued walking, unaware that she’d stopped cold. He finally stopped and turned.

  “I’ve been so angry at him. Angry at a dead man. What kind of person does that make me?”

  “A sane one. He’s not around for you to focus your anger on, so you turned it on yourself.”

  His argument resonated with truth, a powerful truth that made sense of everything she’d experienced. “How did you get to be so wise?”

  “I offered an objective perspective, that’s all.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “You were able to do what no one else has in all these months.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Make me see reason.”

  *

  He had another nightmare that night.

  Not about the stranger. This time he dreamed Jessica was trapped in a raging inferno. He woke gasping for breath, his skin drenched and heart pounding.

  She wasn’t the only one angry at a dead man.

  Grant found it impossible to rationalize how any sane person could treat her with such disrespect. To deceive her, put her very life in danger… That Lee had sacrificed himself trying to save her was his only redeeming quality.

  Shoving off the blanket, he emerged into the quiet night and inhaled the crisp, fragrant air. Face lifted to the heavens, he turned in a complete circle, studying the stars. He could breathe easier outside. He was more comfortable in open spaces than confined by tent or cabin walls. Had he led a nomadic life?

  His gaze fell on Jessica’s tent, and he half wished she’d come out, despite the risk. He would’ve liked to talk with her. Find some excuse, like a crooked ribbon or stray leaf, to touch her hair. Tease laughter into her wide green eyes and color in her cheeks. He still could hardly believe she’d opened up to him about her past. Holding her, comforting her, he’d felt more at home in his own body since he’d woken with no idea who or what he was.

  Upon their return, their first stop had been at Lydia’s campsite. Although subdued, she’d warmed to Jessica’s apology and hug, taking pride in showing them her bandaged hand. Her parents had been effusive in their gratitude. Jessica’s family members hadn’t been pleased at their extended absence. One look at her grief-ravaged face, and they’d turned accusing eyes on him. But then she’d smiled, taken out her fiddle and asked him if he’d like to play with her. Bemused, Juliana and the others had gathered around and listened as his guitar and her fiddle joined together in song.

  They’d played for hours. Other campers brought chairs and blankets and settled in to listen, which had made him self-conscious. As if sensing his unease, Jessica had caught his eye and smiled her encouragement. The pure pleasure in her face made his worries disappear and his heart expand with happiness.

  The guilt and sorrow so prevalent in her had receded. He couldn’t take credit for the change. He’d only said what others had likely tried to say countless times before. She just hadn’t been ready to hear and accept the truth until now. In this instance, the fact he was an outsider had actually been a good thing.

  Grant prayed she’d be able to move forward with her life, pursue dreams that were important to her. Leaving her wasn’t going to be easy, he realized. He’d miss her.

  He liked her and her family. Liked her charming mountain town.

  Perhaps she’d agree to exchange letters.

  His spirit heavy at the prospect of never seeing any of them again, he returned to his tent and, lighting a lamp, dug in his travel bag for his Bible. His fingers encountered an unusual bump in the lining. Removing the items one by one and placing them on his pallet, he squinted into the bag. There weren’t any rips in the seams. Running his hand flat against the bottom, he frowned. Something was in there.

  Pulse skipping, he located his pocketknife and worked open the seam along the long side. He peeled the lining away. The air inside the tent seemed to constrict, cutting off the oxygen. His throat closed.

  Black velvet pouches. Four of them.

  Dread spread like black ink from his chest into every part of his body.

  Fingers trembling, he dumped the contents of the first pouch onto his bedding. Gold and precious gems winked up at him. Necklaces. Ruby rings. Diamond bracelets. Emptying the rest, he lifted the most ornate piece and held it on his palm. The brooch’s pearls glowed in the circle of light, the diamonds scattered rainbow-hued prisms. These pieces couldn’t be fake.

  Closing his fist around it, he didn’t register the sharp edges cutting into his skin.

  He slumped over, his forehead resting against the bed, and fought the resurging panic. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his heart pumped so hard it actually hurt.

  He was a thief. There could be no other explanation. He’d stolen these jewels—too many to have come from one source, which meant he was a professional thief—and hidden them in this bag. The stranger in his dream? Probably his cohort demanding his share of the bounty. Maybe Grant had tried to swindle him out of it, and that’s why he’d been attacked and left for dead.

  God, how can this be? I don’t feel like a criminal. This is the last thing I wanted.

  But the evidence was right there in his hand.

  Jessica was right. Her first instincts were spot-on.

  Grant felt ill. Head throbbing, he replaced the jewels, all the while considering running. He could travel to another town and drop the travel bag at a bank or jail. Or a church. That would work. A pastor would make sure they were returned to the authorities and from there the rightful owners. He’d keep moving until he
was hundreds of miles from here. He could find odd jobs along the way. Of course, he’d have to make up a sympathetic story, adding deception to his list of sins.

  Extinguishing the light, he crawled into bed. The thread of optimism he’d been clinging to snapped, and he was left with ugly reality.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I wish we didn’t have to go,” Jessica said. “I wish we could stay for another week.”

  Juliana’s eyes were wet. “The time passed too fast.”

  The clearing was abuzz with activity. While some families would be staying on, many were packing up and heading home, their wagons jammed full of chestnuts to be sold at market.

  Evan came up behind Juliana and, snaking his arms around her middle, nuzzled her cheek. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes and leaned into him, a tiny sigh escaping.

  “We’ll plan a visit to Gatlinburg soon,” he promised.

  Twisting in his arms, she encircled his neck. “Can we go for Thanksgiving?”

  The smile he bestowed on her spoke of deep affection. “For you, I’ll make it happen.”

  Jessica darted a glance in Grant’s direction. Waiting beside their wagon at the clearing’s edge, he shifted his stance, his gaze constantly moving about the crowd. With his beard heavier than usual, his good looks had a rough edge to them. He’d been tense and standoffish since breakfast. After their time in the forest and hours of making music together, his attitude stung. She’d replayed those tender moments in his arms a thousand times. It amazed her that an outsider had been the one to dismantle her self-recrimination.

  He’s not an outsider anymore, is he? He’s a treasured friend. And I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to be more.

  “How about a goodbye hug for your brother-in-law?”

  Snapped out of her reverie, she embraced Evan. “We’ll see you next month?”

  When Evan committed to something, he followed through. Grant was dependable like that. Honorable. A man worthy of her trust and admiration.

  Evan smiled. “Lord willing, we’ll be there.”

  Juliana watched her husband lope over to speak to Caleb. Her suddenly troubled expression put Jessica in mind of that odd moment from before. Suspicion surfaced. “What’s wrong?”