Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  “No one said it would be easy. When the girls’ pa died, I couldn’t see how I would manage alone. Not only raising five daughters, but keeping the farm afloat. God gave me the strength and courage I needed to make it through each day. My family and friends helped. They prayed for me, listened to me whine, pitched in around the farm. It was a dark time. Eventually, though, I began to smile again.”

  “I’m glad I had people like you and your daughter to support me.”

  “What you don’t know is what a blessing you’ve been to us.” Her smile fond, she bustled off to join the others. The conversation made him long to know his own mother. Was she kind and wise like Alice? Did she have a sense of humor? Was she a good cook? And what was his father like?

  From his vantage point, he could see the long dining room table was already littered with serving dishes and bowls of assorted meats and vegetables. Will emerged from the kitchen, snagging a roll as he passed the table.

  Grinning, he opened the door and spoke with a full mouth. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  Following the young man out into the yard, he told himself to enjoy the present moment. No telling how much time he had left to spend with his new friends.

  *

  Jessica didn’t arrive until the gathering was in full swing. Folks milled about her aunt and uncle’s yard, balancing their plates and mason jars of tea or lemonade. A few had chosen to eat their supper on the porch steps. The watery yellow haze of dusk had descended, and her uncle and Josh were lighting the lamps sitting on makeshift tables. The cabin windows blazed with light.

  Laughter competed with the hum of conversations.

  Fiddling with the ends of her shawl, she searched out men with fair hair, hoping to see Grant and dreading it at the same time. She was the teeniest bit hurt that he hadn’t bothered to stop by and say hello or ask after Jane and the baby. He would’ve gotten updates from her aunt or cousins. Still, would it have inconvenienced him that much to pay them a short visit?

  A blond-haired woman broke from her group to pick her way across the yard. Jessica recognized her older sister at once. In their mountain town, only Megan had ringlets the color of moonlight combined with a peaches-and-cream complexion.

  As she approached, her pretty, robin-egg-blue dress skimming the grass, she assessed Jessica’s hair with a humorous glint in her eyes. “If I didn’t know Jane had stayed home, I would’ve mistaken you for her. What made you arrange your hair that way?”

  Self-conscious, Jessica touched a finger to the crown of her head. “I wanted a change. Does it look horrid?”

  Megan made a circling motion with her finger. Jessica complied, hoping everyone else was too engrossed in their socializing to notice.

  “Well?”

  “It looks wonderful. You did a bang-up job.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, wishing she’d gone with her usual no-frills style. But no. She’d sought to impress Grant. In doing so, she’d courted questions.

  She pressed her hand flat against her dress’s bodice. Crafted of gossamery fabric that whispered across her skin, the deep green hue mimicked the forest canopy. The overskirt was made of two panels that draped from the waist in thick ruffles, revealing a black lace under-panel.

  “I’m overdressed.” Most of the women wore dark skirts with blouses. “I should change.”

  Megan grasped her wrist. “No, you aren’t. And no, you shouldn’t. You look stunning.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “It’s not like you to care. What’s going on?”

  When Jessica pressed her lips together and refused to answer, Megan surveyed the crowd. Stilling, she tipped her head close. “Is our local mystery man the one you intended to impress? If so, you succeeded.”

  Jessica’s heart hammering in her chest, she followed Megan’s gaze to the crowd’s periphery. The barn’s massive doors had been thrown wide to reveal the mounds of corn waiting to be shucked. Grant stood slightly apart from her cousins Caleb and Nathan. He made no effort to hide the fact he was staring straight at her.

  She waved. He raised his glass in response, but he didn’t smile. That was unlike him.

  Was he unhappy in her aunt and uncle’s home?

  Turning away, he said something to Caleb and stalked off toward the outbuildings. Caleb watched his retreat before continuing his conversation with Nathan.

  Her spirits flagged. She could’ve been wearing a flour sack for all he’d noticed.

  “Well.” Megan looked as confused as Jessica felt. “Have you and he had a tiff?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Caleb’s coming over.”

  Indeed, he was weaving through the clusters of people with single-minded determination. When he reached them, he arched a brow at her.

  “What have you done to Grant?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “He was in a fine mood until you showed up.” He paused to rake her with his gaze. “You look pretty, by the way.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  Caleb folded his arms across his chest. “And another thing, the man isn’t going to have enough funds to leave if he keeps buying your cakes.”

  Megan looked intrigued. “She’s only been stocking the mercantile since Monday. How many has he purchased?”

  “After working a half day today, he stopped on the way home for his fifth.”

  Jessica’s jaw sagged. That was one a day since Tuesday.

  “Ma’s starting to worry about the quality of her cooking,” he tacked on. “Not to mention it’s stirred up talk. I overheard Gerard and Wilton laughing about it moments ago. They’re certain he’s besotted with you.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I didn’t tell him to do that. I wouldn’t.”

  “So do us all a favor and give him one for free.”

  Megan touched her arm. “Maybe you should go and talk to him.”

  Jerking a nod, she gathered her skirts and swept around the nearest side of the cabin, eager to hide from prying eyes. Was everyone laughing at her? Did they think she put him up to it? Or worse, that Grant felt sorry for her?

  The apple orchard stretching across gently undulating fields was washed in the final rosy hues of daylight. In the distance, the roof of Josh and Kate’s home was visible through a break in the forest. Movement to her left alerted her to Grant’s presence on her aunt’s back porch.

  Rising from his seat when he spotted her, he waited with his hands at his sides, his expression unreadable. As she neared, his eyes lingered on her upswept hair and exposed throat, darkening to blue black. Admiration shone there.

  She drank in his appearance, the casual farmer’s clothes not quite appropriate for his proud, military-like stance. She hadn’t noticed that before. Maybe because he’d had a bum ankle and tender side. He’d favored those injuries. Now that he was healed, he stood with his shoulders back, spine straight, boots planted wide on the smooth planks.

  If a mountain lion were to come charging through the fields behind her, he’d be prepared to fight it off.

  In the low light, his hair didn’t shine as usual. Washed and combed, it lay against his head, longer than when he’d arrived. A stray lock fell over his forehead, and she would’ve forfeited a week’s earnings to experience its silky texture between her fingers once more. To be in his arms again.

  Curling her arms about her middle, she expelled those thoughts with difficulty. She stopped on the opposite side of the porch railing. There was no step up, so they were on eye level.

  “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t want your pity,” she bit out.

  He gripped the railing’s top edge and leaned over it, his face close, his expression defiant. “Why would I pity you?”

  “Everyone’s talking about how you’ve gone to the mercantile every day this week and bought one of my cakes.”

  “Everyone?” One brow quirked. “No one’s said anything to me about it. Why would that upset you? Word of mouth is good for business.”
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  Upset without knowing why, Jessica dropped her arms and, not paying attention, placed her hands on the railing on either side of his. “You think I’m going to fail.”

  His head reared back. “That’s the exact opposite of what I’m thinking.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” His voice was steel cloaked in silk. His hands shifted, imprisoning hers against the weatherworn wood. His face was close enough that his coffee-scented breath puffed across her lips. His beautiful, glittering eyes delved deep into hers. Was he angry for the same reason as her?

  This wasn’t about cake. This wasn’t about rumors. Inside, the truth burned. She loved him…and she craved his love in return.

  “I happen to be of the opinion that you can succeed at anything you set your mind to, Jessica O’Malley.”

  His sure hands slowly skimmed her bare arms, creating chilled bumps in their wake, curving around her shoulders until finding her nape. He gave a gentle tug. Anchoring her against his chest, the railing an inconvenient barrier between them, Grant brought his mouth down on hers. Branding her as his.

  She slid her hands up the muscles of his back, reveling in his strength, the broadness of his chest cradling her, the taut security of his arms enfolding her.

  I love you.

  The words coursed through her, begging to be uttered. His lips were firm and searching. Warmth against the coolness of the night.

  It was of dire importance that she memorize every detail of this experience. On the lonely days and nights to come, she’d wrap this memory around her like a toasty blanket warding off the chill of his absence.

  His lifted his head a fraction, eyes ablaze. “Jessica.”

  The way her name rolled off his lips made her shiver. His fingertips skimmed her hairline at her temple. “When I saw you tonight, I thought I was dreaming. Your beauty has no equal.”

  While his words brought her pleasure, they weren’t the ones she yearned for him to say.

  She stroked his shaven cheek. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  His brows drew together even as he brushed another kiss across her sensitive mouth. “I’m listening.”

  Her pulse out of control, she gathered her courage. She opened her mouth to speak.

  “Grant?” Caleb’s distinctive growl split through the night. “The competition’s about to start.”

  Gasping softly, Jessica jerked away.

  A muscle ticked in Grant’s jaw. Coming around to her side, he hesitated.

  Caleb prowled closer. Grant moved so that his body blocked hers. “Don’t take your anger out on her. Say whatever it is you have to say to me.”

  She braced herself for her cousin’s blast of temper, but it never came.

  “I’ve made my feelings plain—getting involved is a dumb idea at this point. You’re both mature adults, however. I can’t stop you from pursuing this course.”

  Grant’s sigh seemed to be jerked from the depths of his being. Jessica squeezed his upper arm and stepped out of his shadow. “Go on to your competition. I’ll speak to Caleb alone.”

  His gaze delved into hers, seeking reassurance. Appearing satisfied, he murmured, “We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay.”

  With a parting glance at Caleb, Grant strode away, disappearing into the darkness.

  “I’m worried about you, Jess.”

  She wished she could make out Caleb’s exact expression. “I’m not that little girl who trailed you around anymore. I’m not your responsibility.”

  “No matter how old you get, I’ll never stop trying to protect you.”

  Without a father or older brothers to look out for them, her uncle and cousins had stepped in to do the job. She understood his actions were born of love.

  She touched his shirtsleeve. “I appreciate your concern, Caleb.”

  “But you’re not going to heed my warnings.”

  “You’ve warmed to Grant. I know you have.”

  “He’s not a bad person,” he agreed. “It’s his history, his situation I’m concerned about.”

  “I’m aware of the risks. Let me do this my way.”

  He was silent awhile. “Just be careful, okay?”

  She hugged him and, craving a few moments to regain her composure before facing the guests, slipped inside the silent house. Upstairs in her aunt and uncle’s bedroom, she checked her appearance. Not a hair was out of place. Only her heightened color and feverishly bright eyes bore testament to her high emotions. Returning to the living room, she lingered as sounds of merriment filtered through the windows.

  When she finally went outside, the first round of competition was over. People were cheering and clapping. From her vantage point on the porch, she saw Nathan and Josh clapping Grant on the back.

  “Did he win?” she asked the elderly woman beside her.

  “No, but he found a red ear of corn.”

  Flutters erupted in her middle. Tradition held that the gentleman who found a rare red ear of corn got to kiss the woman of his choosing.

  She watched as her cousins explained. Grant’s lips parted in surprise. He searched the crowd, stilling when his gaze landed on hers. He started forward.

  Anticipation pulsed inside her, along with a heavy dose of caution. The young men whistled. Everyone in attendance tracked his progress, which seemed to her painfully slow. Was he really planning on kissing her right here in front of her neighbors and family?

  He neared the porch, and his attention broke from her. Stopping before a group of older women, he extended the corncob and, with a wink and a playful grin, kissed her ma’s wrinkled cheek. Clapping filled her ears. Good-natured laughter, too.

  Jessica joined in, able to see her ma’s fiery blush from her position. Grant spared Jessica a long glance, communicating with his eyes whom he truly would’ve liked to kiss. Happiness suffused her. He was ever mindful of her reputation. He put her needs above his own.

  Surely he felt something deeper than friendship for her.

  The sound of a fast-approaching rider thundered along the lane. The gaiety dissipated as the sheriff’s form became distinguishable. He didn’t dismount. Instead, he located Grant and beckoned him over.

  “I need for you to come with me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Numb to the activity around him, Grant approached the sheriff on wooden legs. Jessica rushed to join him.

  “What’s happened?” The question was directed toward Shane.

  Not one emotion flickered in his somber features. “Not here, Jessica.”

  Apprehension slithered along Grant’s spine, wrapping around his ribs and squeezing the life out of him. That old familiar panic beast pounced. Sweat popped out on his forehead. This was it. He’d been found out. He was guilty. Doomed to a life behind bars.

  No. I can’t accept that. Dear Lord, please. I can’t…

  Jessica’s hand found his. It wasn’t easy meeting her gaze. The tremulous smile she gave him lessened the turmoil roiling inside him. She had faith in him. In his goodness.

  Grant couldn’t bear to see that faith blasted to pieces. Squeezing her hand, he said, “Maybe you should stay here.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  He looked to Shane, who nodded his acquiescence. Nathan brought a horse for him to borrow. “Take this one.”

  “Thanks.”

  The O’Malleys gathered around, forming a human barrier in an effort to afford him a modicum of privacy. With his arm slung about his wife’s shoulders, Caleb looked serious. Mary wore a frown.

  Alice patted his shoulder. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  Nodding, he turned to Jessica. “You’re sure about this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  With everyone watching, Grant climbed into the saddle and, holding out a hand, assisted Jessica onto the horse’s back. She settled in behind him, one arm going about his waist. Shane turned his horse around, and Grant’
s trotted after him.

  Mingled with the worry about his own future were worries about Jessica’s. Would scandal and gossip follow her long after he was gone?

  That kiss—on another isolated porch, no less—never should’ve happened. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

  The ride into town passed in a blur. Tension radiated from Jessica’s body.

  Maybe he should’ve insisted on coming alone. He had no clue what or who was awaiting him at the jail.

  A lone horse stood hitched to the post, one that had traveled a great distance if the amount of gear attached to its saddle was anything to go by. As Shane slid to the ground, Grant contemplated bolting for parts unknown. Instead, he guided his mount beside the sheriff’s.

  “Who’s inside, Shane?” Grant stopped the man outside the door.

  “Someone who claims to know you.”

  “Male or female?”

  “A man.” Sighing, Shane glanced between them. “Let’s go in and let him explain.”

  Grant took one final look at Jessica, searing her face into his memory. After tonight, she may never look at him the same again.

  His throat tight and dry, he nodded. “All right.”

  Shane led the way into his office. Grant and Jessica followed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure turning from the window. Looking to be in his fifties, the man was tall, reed-thin, and sported thick auburn hair and a mustache.

  His narrowed gaze raked Grant from head to toe. His mustache wobbled as his mouth broke into a grin. “Parker! It truly is you.” Striding over, he grasped Grant’s shoulders and pulled him in for a quick hug and hearty slap on the back. Grant was stunned into silence.

  Jessica edged closer. “You know Grant?”

  Belatedly, he noticed the silver star. This man was a US marshal.

  Stepping back, the other man spared Jessica a quick glance. “Know him? We’ve only served our country together for the last six years. I was friends with his father.” He twirled his mustache ends, a gesture that struck Grant as familiar. “His legal name is Garrett Sebastian Parker.”

  The name ricocheted through his skull.

  “I think I need to sit.” Using his foot, he scooted over a chair and sank into it before his knees gave way.