by Jo Ann Brown
“I don’t know what you mean.” That, at least, was completely the truth.
“You don’t? By not giving chase after the smugglers, you went against your own best instincts. You put my sister’s safety before your wish to unmask the smugglers. You set aside the acclaim that could have been yours so you could protect us. All of us.” She leaned her crook against the newel post. “I have seen how important it is to you to continue being a hero.”
“By trying to rescue a child who didn’t need rescuing on the pond?” He hated the self-contempt in his question, but he clung to the emotion. If he pushed it aside, his pain at leaving Cat would increase a hundredfold.
“But, Jonathan, don’t you understand? It took a lot of courage to make that choice when you did not chase after the smugglers. You dared to believe that God would see all of us through the night.”
“Heroes don’t sit back and do nothing. They make a difference.”
She took another step closer to him, standing so near that Jobby could not squeeze between them. Raising her head, she gazed at him. She was so beautiful, so loving, so forgiving that his heart broke.
“But, Jonathan, by staying with me in the carriage, you became my hero when you urged me to pray again and believe that God hears all our prayers, even when He doesn’t give us the answer we hoped for. You made a difference for me.”
“You would have discovered that on your own.”
“I hadn’t. You helped me realize that it isn’t God I need to forgive. I need to forgive myself. Not just for doubting Him, but for being ashamed of the gift He gave me.”
“The gift of your art?”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded. “I let the judgment of others carry more weight in my heart than God’s blessing. I saw myself only as others saw me instead of listening to the truth in my heart.” She wove her fingers through his. “Just as you do. Jonathan, you are a great man. You don’t have to prove that to us. We all know that.”
He whipped his hand away from hers. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know—”
“Nothing!” he spat before he turned away from her. He could not face her when he revealed the truth, and he could not hide the truth any longer. She deserved to know why he was leaving. Maybe then her heart would know he was not as honorable as he had pretended to be.
He stared at the door while he said, “I am no hero, Cat. I saw the Frenchman raise his knife toward Northbridge. That much is true. What nobody knows is that when I went to halt him, I stumbled over someone else. My shot went wide, and I bumped into the French soldier, knocking him away from Northbridge so the knife only cut Northbridge’s cheek, not his throat.
“After the battle, I was proclaimed a hero. By Northbridge and Meriweather. They spread the word before I had a chance to speak the truth. I should have been honest right then and there, but, for the first time in my life, I was appreciated for something I had done. I wasn’t the useless son who read the law against my mother’s wishes. My father helped me achieve that dream but only to spite my mother. Both of them live a life of illusion, pretending to be a happily married couple when they cannot tolerate being in the same room with each other or with us. My siblings have remade themselves to obtain a title or wealth or both, believing that was the route to the happiness we never knew as children.”
“Which is why you did not want me to go to London,” she said to his back.
He whirled to face her. “But don’t you see, Cat? I have hated them for living an illusion, and then I became just like them. Living a lie.”
She closed the distance between them. “You silly, silly man!”
His eyes widened in shock. He had imagined her saying many different things when he told her the truth. Telling him that he was a worthless liar. Telling him to get out of her life. Telling him that he should leave Meriweather Hall and never return. He had never guessed she could call him silly.
“Do you think,” she asked quietly, “that it makes any difference to my sister or Gemma and Michael how you saved Charles? Do you think he and Cousin Edmund will be any less fond of you?”
“I lied to them. If they hated me for that, I would understand.” He picked up his bags. “I would understand, because I hate myself for allowing them to believe this lie for months and months, even though I have had plenty of chances to be honest with them.”
“How odd.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She crossed the entrance hall to stand in front of him again. “Surely you have heard that opposites attract.”
“Yes. What is your point?”
“My point is that I am most definitely attracted to you, and you are attracted to me.” A blush climbed her face. “Or I assume you are attracted to me.”
He bent to place his bags to the floor once more. “More than words could express, Cat.” His fingers rose to brush her hair back from her cheek, but he quickly pulled his hand away. “More than a man like me should.”
“There.” A hint of triumph rang through her voice.
“There what? What are you talking about, Cat?”
“What you just said. ‘More than a man like me should.’” She put her hand on the center of his chest, and his heart thudded to a faster pace at her touch. “Do you know how many times since I have met you that I told myself I should not allow myself to have feelings for you, because they were not appropriate for a woman like me who had lost my connection to God?”
“But you have not been false.”
She smiled sadly. “Of course I have. I have blamed God for what was my own fault. I have denied His gift to me, and I let the opinions of others sway me from the truth.”
“But I am no hero. Not like your Roland.”
A shadow of grief dimmed her eyes. “Yes, Roland was a hero. Both you and he displayed great courage by defending England. The difference is that he didn’t survive, and you did. Not only that, but you saved the life of your commanding officer who is also your good friend. Roland may have saved lives, too. I don’t know. What I do know is that both of you, along with Cousin Edmund and Charles and all the other men who served, have no further need to prove your bravery.”
The pain around his heart faded. “Thank you, Cat. I never thought of it that way.”
She leaned her head on his chest and splayed her fingers across the front of his waistcoat. He held her close, savoring the quiet moment when both their hearts beat in unison.
“Stay,” she whispered.
“I will.” He pressed his face to her dark curls and drew in a deep breath of her light fragrance. “But only if you promise me one thing.”
“What is that?” she asked, looking up at him.
He dropped to one knee and clasped her hands. As her eyes and her mouth grew round, he said, “Promise me that you will be my wife, Cat. I love you with all my heart.”
Tears flowed down her face. “Yes. Yes. Yes! I promise that I will be your wife. I love you, Jonathan. I have since you were so patient about teaching me to handle the accounts for the wedding and ball. I knew you would never expect me to be the perfect wife.”
“How could I expect you to be a perfect wife when I am far from perfect myself?”
She tugged on his hands to bring him to his feet. “But you are perfect for me.”
Just as their kiss was, he thought, as he held her in his arms. Soon he would be able to kiss her whenever he wanted and welcome her kisses whenever she offered them.
“Well, I think our wedding is about to be overshadowed by another,” Sophia said as she came down the stairs on Northbridge’s arm. She walked around Jobby and kissed Jonathan on the cheek before giving Cat a hug. “I’m glad you two have finally come to see what the rest of us already knew.”
Northbridge offe
red his hand and shook Jonathan’s firmly. “Welcome to the family, Bradby. Who would have guessed when we wallowed in the mud that one day we would marry sisters?”
* * *
“Tonight is your night,” Cat said, smiling. “We can make an announcement tomorrow on Christmas Day.”
It was agreed, and the four of them walked to the great hall. The Yule log burned brightly on the largest hearth, and candles brightened every corner of the huge room. Cheers went up as Northbridge and his bride entered. Jonathan and Cat hung back to let the newlyweds bask in the excitement and happiness of friends and family.
“Don’t forget you promised me something else,” Cat said with a smile for Jonathan. Her Jonathan.
“What is that?”
“The first dance tonight.”
“I have not forgotten.” He drew her with him out to the area set aside for dancing.
As others lined up for the first set, the men facing the women for the country reel, he smiled and gestured to the orchestra. Bewildered gasps sounded as the orchestra began to play in three-quarters time. He held out his hands to Cat.
“What sort of music is that?” she asked as she looked from the orchestra to his hands.
“A waltz.”
“I don’t know how to waltz.” She had read of it in magazines from London, but she had never seen anyone dance it.
“Then let me show you.” He put one hand on her waist and drew her hand to his shoulder. Taking her other hand, he spun her into the pattern of the dance.
People stared at them as they whirled around the great hall. When Charles swung Sophia into the dance, all eyes turned to the bride and groom. A few other brave couples joined in.
“You need to be careful,” Cat said as she smiled with her delight as she danced with her future husband.
“Did I step on your toes?”
“No, but you told me you are not a great dancer. If you keep telling such tales, I will never know what to believe.”
“I am a poor dancer in reels and other country dances.” He laughed. “I always forget which way to go and who is my partner for each step. The waltz is simpler. The way is clear, and I only have a single partner. The only one I’ll ever want.”
When Jonathan drew her even closer, Cat leaned into him. It might be scandalous, but she did not care. She wanted to be in his arms. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the music and the joy of having the man she loved love her.
Then they stopped, though the music had not.
“Look up,” he said.
She did and saw the kissing bough over their heads. Laughing, she said, “It’s a tradition, you know.”
“A wondrous tradition. One I think we need to keep all year round.”
She agreed by giving him a quick kiss. With a laugh, he pulled her to him, and that kiss was not quick.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from RETURN OF THE COWBOY DOCTOR by Lacy Williams.
Dear Reader,
Thanks for returning to Sanctuary Bay to share Catherine and Jonathan’s story. I hoped you enjoyed a chance to celebrate Advent at Meriweather Hall. So many of the holiday traditions we enjoy now were begun in the Victorian age, which makes it fun to explore how Christmas was celebrated during the Regency. Medieval traditions, like the Yule log, were commonplace, and the carols might have the same melodies as the ones we know and love, but the words were different. Yet some traditions remain the same: wanting to be with loved ones, and enjoying our special traditions that come from our hearts and our families.
The next visit to Sanctuary Bay focuses on Edmund Herriott, the indecisive Lord Meriweather. Look for Edward’s story in March 2014. As always, you can contact me by stopping in at www.joannbrownbooks.com.
Wishing you many blessings,
Jo Ann Brown
Questions for Discussion
Jonathan Bradby has let his friends believe what he knows is a lie. How would you feel if you discovered a friend had lied to you about something important?
Catherine Meriweather has lost her connection with God. What would you do if you or someone you cared about felt the same?
When a dog crawls into Jonathan’s carriage, he makes an effort to find the dog a home. That doesn’t work out, so he brings the dog along to Meriweather Hall. If an animal or a person looking for a family came into your life, what would you do to help?
Edmund Herriott struggles to make decisions. Which decisions are the hardest for you to make, and how do you make them anyhow? Or do you avoid making those decisions?
Meriweather Hall has a lot of traditions for Advent and Christmas. Which traditions are important to you throughout the year? Why?
Catherine is determined to make her sister’s wedding perfect, but she fails over and over. What do you do when you are faced with failure?
Jonathan and Roland, Catherine’s late fiancé, both feel that they have to prove something to the people they love. Do you think that’s necessary or important?
Catherine hides an important part of herself—her love of art—because she thinks other people will consider it worthless. Is there something important to you that you find difficult to share with others?
Jonathan and Catherine have to make some tough decisions to protect the ones they love. Have you ever had to make decisions like that? Did you find it hard or simple?
Catherine learns she must forgive herself as well as others. Do you find it easier to forgive yourself or the other people in your life?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.
You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.
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Chapter One
1897—Wyoming
Home. After five years away, Maxwell White was finally coming home.
Two years too early.
The clack-clack-clack of the train rumbling down the tracks had an entirely different feeling than when he’d left home for college. At eighteen, he’d been excited and anxious, ready to conquer the world—or at least achieve his goal of becoming a doctor. Now the rocking, dusty passenger car bore him home, but he had not completed his education. How long would he have to work to get the funds he needed to attend his last two years of medical school? Could he return in the fall—or spring at the latest?
The scenery rushing past outside the train window offered him no solutions, only pushed him toward Bear Creek, and his family. While he’d been gone, he’d missed his adopted brothers and sister, all seven of them, more than he’d ever thought possible. Exchanging letters just wasn’t enough.
Next thing he knew, the train had stopped and he disembarked, hauling his small travel case onto the platform. With late springtime in full bloom, he hadn’t expected his pa or brothers to greet him. Ranchers needed every hour of the day to get their jobs done. And, according to the last letter from his younger brother and jokester Edgar, his ma couldn’t lumber up into the wagon without assistance, being far along with her third baby.
He’d see if he could get the livery owner to let him borrow a horse to get him the rest of the way home.
Before he could leave the platform steps, a voice rang out.
“Maxwell!”
Sam Castlerock, his best friend of eight years, hurried down the boardwalk toward him. Sam’s wife, Emily, was on his arm and he was wearing a wide smile.
His friend looked very different from when Maxwell had first known him. Back then, Sam had worn fancy duds more suited to city boys. Now he wore denims and a worn chambray shirt, dusty boots and a Stetson. He looked like the cowboy he was. And he looked confident, happier than Maxwell remembered.
Maxwell accepted a back-slapping hug from Sam and a buss on the cheek from Emily. He’d been sweet on her during his teenage years, but before he’d left for college they’d grown to be simply close friends. Maxwell was glad Sam had found love with the shopkeeper’s daughter.
“You look tired,” his friend said, stepping back and claiming Emily’s hand as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her. Maxwell noticed and tried not to feel the twinge of envy in his stomach.
“That’s what sixteen-hour days of classes, labs and studying will do to a cowboy like me. Plus, I’ve been on a train for two days straight.”
“Do you have time for lunch before you head out to your pa’s place?” Emily asked.
“After forty-eight hours of train fare, I’m more than happy to stop for a quick meal.” He nodded his thanks to her and looked away quickly from the small bulge at her waistline. Sam and Emily were starting a family, it seemed. He felt another of those twinges beneath his breastbone.
“Do you have luggage?” Sam asked.
“A trunk full of medical texts.”
Sam grinned and motioned toward a wagon alongside the plank boardwalk a ways down. “I guess I’ll trust you with my wife. Meet you in a few minutes.”
Maxwell knew he should probably have helped his friend wrestle the heavy trunk into the wagon but was just as happy to escort Emily, who had remained a dear friend. She chattered about their homestead—Sam had already told him via letter that it was close to his pa’s place—and how Sam fussed over her because of the baby. Her expression shone with joy and he had to avert his face.
