Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

“She’d convinced you to give up your life’s dream. But shortly after the wedding, we got word the Nelson gang had struck again, this time wiping out a group of women and children. Taylor needed us both to help track them down. Susannah was livid. I waited outside, but I could hear the crashing plates, her shouting. She accused you of breaking your promise, of loving the job more than her.”

  A dull ache blossomed behind his forehead. “Apparently I’m not a man of my word.”

  Aaron’s expression turned bullish. “That’s rubbish. Taylor needed you. Those innocent victims’ families needed you. She refused to look at the situation from your perspective. You didn’t lie. You promised the mission would be your last.” Frowning deeply, he ran a finger along the handle of his butter knife. “Only problem was, it took us a lot longer to locate the gang than we thought.”

  “Did I know she was pregnant when I left?”

  “No.” His blue eyes took on a sad quality. “Through Taylor, she was able to get a message to you. You were ecstatic about being a father, but I could sense there was tension between you. You were torn up about not being there, anxious to return. But it was too late…”

  “No need to say any more.” Grant scooted his chair back and, tossing down enough coins to cover the bill, gestured to the door. “I can fill in the rest.”

  Outside, Aaron turned to him. “I know this is difficult, but things will get better once we reach Arlington.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  “Believe it.” Aaron slapped his back, a grin once again curving his mouth. “But before we leave, I’d like to meet the women who nursed you back to health. Jessica, in particular.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Of course she chose an uncommonly hot November day to roast chestnuts.

  Her scalp tingled from the persistent rays. The large fire added to her misery. Jessica peered into the kettle suspended above the flames. “Water’s boiling.”

  Sitting in the shade of their back porch’s overhang, Alice carefully slit openings in the chestnuts’ shells. She pointed her knife to the pan at her feet. “I’ve got a batch ready for you.”

  Jessica retrieved it and shook the contents into the roiling water. A bead of sweat trickled beneath her collar. Sighing, she returned the pan to the porch.

  “Have you seen Grant lately?” Alice didn’t look up from her task.

  “No.” Lifting her heavy ponytail off her neck, Jessica fanned the sticky skin. She moved to stir the nuts.

  How could she have known missing him would hurt worse than anything she’d ever experienced? Even worse than grieving Lee? Grant was alive. He was close by. And he was choosing to stay away. To live without her.

  You’re the one who told him not to come around, remember? an accusatory voice prodded.

  Whether or not they spent these last days together, he was still leaving Tennessee. Leaving her.

  “I thought you might’ve stopped by the livery after delivering your cakes earlier.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  She sensed rather than saw her mother’s perusal. “Because he’s your friend?”

  “He’s going home soon.” She struggled to keep her voice casual. “Once he leaves, we’ll probably never see him again.”

  The sooner he left, the sooner she could get on with the business of mourning his absence and healing her battered heart. Something told her it would be an excruciating process.

  “Jessica, look at me.”

  Turning, she obeyed, striving to keep the sadness locked away. Her mother was too perceptive, however.

  “You care for him.” Her knife in one hand, a chestnut in the other, Alice studied her. “More than that. You love him, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Imagining her life without Grant was like imagining a world without sunshine or bright autumn flowers or soothing rain on a hot day. He made her laugh. Teased her out of her bad moods. Challenged her to face the problems she’d rather hide from. When he held her, kissed her, everything else fell away until it was the two of them alone on the earth.

  Compassion was reflected in her eyes. “Are you planning on telling him?”

  Blinking away unwanted tears, she set her jaw. “That’s not something I’m willing to do. He doesn’t belong here. I won’t burden him with unwanted sentiment. Nor will I mar his memories of this place with regret.”

  “What if you tell him, and he asks you to go with him?”

  Jessica hadn’t even considered the possibility. “This is my home. Besides, I’m not sure that’s what he’d want.”

  “Here’s your chance to find out.”

  Brows drawing together, she followed Alice’s line of sight to the patch of lane visible from their spot behind the cabin. “Is that…” She trailed off, nervousness skittering through her.

  “Looks like his brother has arrived.”

  Alice laid aside her things and, leaving Jessica by the fire, went around to greet them. Jessica glanced down at her plain green blouse and skirt and her dirt-streaked apron, put her fingers to her moist hairline. Perfect.

  Their voices preceded them as they rounded the corner. Jessica steeled herself, lifting her chin and willing all emotion away.

  But the moment Grant came into view, his celestial blue eyes homing in on her, the love she harbored in her heart expanded, flowing into every fiber, every particle, almost too powerful to hold inside. Surely he could see it. Feel it seeping into the air and surging toward him like an invisible tidal wave.

  She forced her feet to remain motionless as he came around the fire. His deep blue shirt lent his irises a more distinct hue. He was in need of a shave; the bristles along his jaw and chin had a reddish tint she’d never noticed before. He looked tired. But there was a sense of belonging in his eyes, the thrill of discovery and connectedness, put there by Aaron Parker.

  Grant introduced the man whose resemblance was undeniable.

  “Aaron, these are the women I told you about, Alice and Jessica O’Malley.” His gaze was intent on hers. “Ladies, meet my younger brother.”

  Aaron greeted her mother first. Then he turned to Jessica. Her hand was enveloped by a roughened, trail-worn one. Instead of the customary shake, Aaron lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you, Jessica.”

  Mischief and curiosity danced in the eyes so like Grant’s.

  Grant rolled his eyes. However, indulgence played about his mouth. To an objective observer, it was clear their relationship had a strong foundation. Amnesia or not, they’d be on sure footing within a couple of days.

  Jessica was happy for Grant. He’d need support and understanding as he adjusted to his new reality. “Likewise. Welcome to Gatlinburg. When did you arrive?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  When her mother started to fetch chairs from the kitchen, Grant waved her off. “Stay here. I’ll get them.”

  Aaron removed his hat and placed it over his heart. “I’d like to thank you both for taking Garrett in and helping him get back on his feet. Not many would’ve done that in light of his situation.”

  Alice smiled. “We were glad to help. Grant’s a special young man. We’re blessed to know him.” Looking flustered, she snapped her fingers. “I can’t seem to remember to call him Garrett.”

  He emerged from the cabin then and bestowed a smile on her. “It’s all right. I’ve decided Grant will be my nickname from now on. Most of my colleagues will call me Parker, anyway.”

  Aaron accepted the chair with a nod. Lowering his wiry frame onto the seat, he swept an arm about him. “Looks like we’ve interrupted your work. Garrett was reluctant to stop by. He said you’d be busy. Can we help in some way?”

  Jessica’s heart sank. Grant hadn’t wanted to see her. He was here because of his brother’s need to express gratitude.

  Turning to the fire, she stirred the pot again, leaving her mother to reply. Alice declined his offer and asked how he’d fared during his journey. Jessica list
ened as he explained the long days of travel and short hours of sleep he’d snatched.

  “Where are my manners?” Alice exclaimed. “There’s a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls on the stove. Would either of you like one? I can prepare coffee, too.”

  “I’d love one.” Aaron popped up. With a side-glance at Grant, he strode forward to hold the door open for Alice. “How about I give you a hand?”

  “I can give you a tour,” she said. “I’ll show you the room where Grant stayed.”

  The door closed behind them. The resulting silence was broken by the bubbling water, the hiss and pop of the firewood, a hawk’s cry as it flew over. Keenly aware of Grant’s presence, Jessica snatched up an empty pot and started to transfer the chestnuts into it.

  “Here, let me help.”

  Suddenly, he was beside her, his arm brushing hers. He held the pot while she scooped.

  “What will you do with them now?” His husky voice wrapped around her like whispering satin.

  “Put them in the stove to roast.” She kept her face averted. “Then put towels over them to let them steam. Makes them easier to shell.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the bushels on the porch. “That’s a lot of work. Aaron and I can stay and help.”

  “No, thanks,” she said quickly. Having him around was exquisite torture. Pausing in her work, she allowed herself to look into his face. “He’s nice, Grant. I’m really glad you have someone like him in your life.”

  His gaze seemed to drink her in. “I haven’t remembered any specific memories about him, but it’s like I recognize him anyway. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. It does.” Her mouth dry, she retrieved the last of the kettle’s contents. “He seems to be handling your memory loss well.”

  “He’s been patient. He told me things about our childhood. Our grandparents practically raised us. He also told me how I met Susannah—”

  Jessica threw up her hand. “Stop. You don’t have to divulge the details.”

  Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I merely thought you’d want to know. After everything we’ve been through.”

  “You’re wrong. I don’t.”

  He digested her words. His scrutiny nearly broke her determination to remain silent. Throwing a glance at the kitchen door, he set the pot in the grass and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to her.

  She hesitated. “What is it?”

  “My address. In case you decide to write.”

  Jessica took the soft paper. She wasn’t going to write. Judging by the melancholy stamped across his features, he knew.

  She slipped it into her pocket. “When are you leaving town?”

  “Early tomorrow.”

  “So this is goodbye.”

  “Jessica… I don’t know if I’ll ever travel this way again.” Reaching out, he proceeded to straighten the ribbon nestled close to her nape. She held very still as longing surged. His arms dropped to his sides. A sad smile curved his lips. “I hope you’ll write. I hope you don’t mind if I write to you.”

  She was very close to tears. “Wait here. I have something for you.”

  Inside the dimmer interior, she hurried to the living room, thankful her mother and Aaron were upstairs. She retrieved her desired object and rushed outside.

  Grant took one look at the guitar case and put up his hands. “I can’t take that. It belonged to your father.”

  “Why let it go unused when you make such beautiful music with it?”

  His fingers brushed hers as he reverently accepted the gift. His eyes were bright. “I’ll think of you and these mountains every time I play.”

  A tear escaped. Bowing her head, she dashed it away with the back of her hand. She felt his fingers come under her chin.

  “Jess, don’t. Please.” A world of emotion accompanied his groan.

  Voices floated through the kitchen. Footsteps thrummed against the floorboards. Then the door was opening.

  Their time was coming to an end.

  “Be safe, Grant,” she whispered.

  Unable to corral her emotions, she murmured an excuse and, brushing past a surprised Aaron and her startled mother, sought refuge in her room.

  *

  Grant huddled into his jacket and, using the wagon wheel as a prop for his back, tossed another twig onto the fire. Tiny sparks spun out in the darkness. Above him, stars twinkled in the endless black sky.

  Aaron returned from the woods and plopped down beside him. “What’s eating you?”

  On the other side of the fire, Taylor shifted on his pallet, his snores cutting through the stillness. While the older marshal possessed certain habits that grated on Grant’s nerves, he’d developed a soft spot for him. He supposed it was a result of their friendship and close work relationship.

  Grant plucked a blade of grass to fiddle with. His hands were as restless as his mind.

  Aaron propped an arm on his bent knee. “Ever since we left Gatlinburg, you’ve walked around with your own personal thundercloud hanging above your head. I thought you’d be anxious to get home. Stir up memories.”

  “There’s no guarantee seeing my old place will spark anything.”

  “It’s not your old place. It’s your home. You haven’t been gone that long.”

  “Gatlinburg feels like home.”

  Aaron was silent, contemplative. “I can see why you’d feel that way. Give Arlington a chance, all right? Give your friends and me a chance.”

  Somewhere in the distance, a cow lowed, followed by dogs barking. Just over the rise from their campsite, a large farm occupied the rolling fields. They’d been on the trail for three days. With each passing mile, Grant’s heart and mind rebelled, insisted he was making a huge mistake.

  “I didn’t intend to upset you,” Grant said at last, sorry for making his only living relative feel unnecessary.

  “You didn’t. We both have adjusting to do. I guess I’ve been waiting for you to remember me, and it’s frustrating that it hasn’t happened yet.” Holding off Grant’s response with an uplifted hand, he said, “I’m trying to be patient. And focus on the fact God spared you. You’re all I have left in this world.”

  Grant’s respect and admiration grew. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, little brother. I’d like to see you in action as a marshal.”

  Aaron’s chest puffed with pride. “I learned from the best. You were a marshal a full two years before I followed suit.”

  He proceeded to regale Grant with tales of their exploits. Grand tales that were both awe-inspiring and sobering. For the marshals, duty to their country was paramount. Loyalty. Honor. Brotherhood. Grant admired those sentiments. And yet, he couldn’t help thinking it was a lonely life.

  When the flames had died down and they’d settled on their pallets for the night, Aaron’s voice reached him.

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  Grant’s chest tightened. No use denying it. “Yeah.”

  Memories of her flooded in. Would he ever see her again? He was pretty sure she wasn’t planning on contacting him. She could be resolute about some things. Stubborn would be a more fitting description.

  He couldn’t blame her. So many things about his life were unsettled.

  “Did you consider asking her to come with you?”

  Grant sat up and stared at his brother. His features were indistinct. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I’ve got eyes, brother.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. “The pair of you looked miserable. She didn’t want you to leave.”

  He slumped onto the hard ground and blinked up at the sky. Her tears had nearly broken him. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  His only recourse was to make the best of his situation. And while he was thrilled to have Aaron back in his life and relieved to know he was an upstanding citizen, a tiny part of him wished his identity had remained a mystery for a bit longer. Because then he’d still be in Tennessee. And he’d still be close to the woman he loved.

  CHA
PTER TWENTY-SIX

  I have a lot to be thankful for, Lord.

  Her gaze roaming about her aunt and uncle’s living room, crowded with relatives on this Thanksgiving Day, Jessica prayerfully listed her blessings. The brightest one lay nestled in her arms. Joy slept deeply, despite the loud conversations and occasional outburst of laughter. Her perfect, dainty mouth made sucking motions. Her tiny fingers held on to Jessica’s with surprising strength. What she wouldn’t give for a baby of her own.

  Funny, she’d contemplated marriage to Lee, but it had been an abstract notion. She certainly hadn’t given much thought to children. Grant was different. She had no trouble envisioning being his wife, living with him day in and day out, raising a family. He’d be a tender, giving husband, a wise and patient father.

  She held in a sigh, lest she earn another worried look. Her loved ones had been walking on eggshells these past weeks. Afraid to make a reference to Grant. Afraid to say anything remotely upsetting.

  Had her feelings for him been that obvious? Had her mother let the truth slip to Aunt Mary, and it spread from there? Or, more worrying, had they simply put two and two together—his absence and her lingering despondency?

  Evan entered the cabin and called for the room’s attention. “Juliana? Will you come here, please?”

  A slight frown on her face, Juliana rose from her chair and hoisted their sleepy two-year-old son onto her hip. Jessica tensed. The couple had written ahead about their plans to spend the holiday in Gatlinburg. Whatever he’d been busy arranging these past months, Jessica prayed it would please her sister.

  When Juliana reached him, Evan curved an arm around her waist. Love shone in his gaze. There was tension in him, though.

  “Juliana, as you know, I’ve been working on a surprise for you. Something I hope you approve of very much.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “You know I trust your judgment. I won’t lie and say I haven’t been anxious these past weeks, however.”

  “I appreciate your patience, Irish. The wait is over.” Turning to the expectant gathering, he said, “Everyone, we’re going on a short trip. The wagons are waiting outside.”