“So...that was a yes?”
“That was a yes.”
Chance kissed her again. “As long as you know, I’ve got nothing prepared. I mean, I’ve got this job as police chief, but I’m a lout of a bachelor. I sold Noah’s place, so I have some money to buy us a house...” He smiled sheepishly. “When I say ‘start from scratch,’ I really mean that. I don’t think I own one matching towel. I hope that’s not a disappointment.”
“It’s perfect.” She beamed up at him. “And I love you, Chance. You have no idea...”
“I have a small idea.”
Sadie knew that she’d never run again. She didn’t know what their life would hold, but she did know there was no one else she’d rather face life’s challenges with. In Chance’s eyes, she saw the horizon. She could breathe. And with each breath, she sent up silent thanks. She’d come home.
Epilogue
Sadie and Chance got married that spring on a warm day in late April when the grass was flushing green and the birds sang in joyful abandon. Sadie chose Harper Kemp as her maid of honor...again, and this time, there was no fear of the bride not showing up. The church bells clanged out their song as the front doors opened and the new Mr. and Mrs. Morgan came outside for the very first time.
Sadie smiled up into her husband’s face.
“You want to get away for a few minutes before the reception?” he asked, ducking his head against a shower of birdseed thrown by their friends and family.
“Yes!” she laughed breathlessly. She was longing to get a few minutes alone with her husband, and had been for days, but the wedding had taken up so much time and excitement, and everyone wanted to be part of it.
They dashed down the front walk in that shower of laugher and birdseed, toward the white convertible they’d rented for the day that sat waiting out front. Chance dug in his pocket and pulled out the key.
“You want to drive?” he asked with a grin.
“As a matter of fact, I do!”
He tossed it to her, and she had to let go of his hand to catch it. They hopped into the car, and Sadie grabbed handfuls of dress to pile onto their laps before she slammed the door shut. Chance leaned over and caught her lips in a kiss.
“The bouquet,” he murmured as he pulled back.
She was still holding it in her other hand, and she laughed, then tossed it behind her, out of the convertible. Sadie turned back to catch the look of surprise on Harper’s face, the bouquet upside down in her hands.
“You’re next, Harper!” someone teased.
Sadie put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. As they drove off, the photographer snapped some photos of the bride’s veil fluttering out behind them in the warm wind, and Chance, his arm draped behind her seat, beaming over at his new wife.
That photo turned into one of Sadie’s favorites, and she’d put it into her wedding album, and that wedding album was put up into a closet somewhere. Every few years they’d bring it out and go over the day that they became The Morgans.
Years passed, their children grew and had children of their own. And every few years, that album would come out and the grandkids would look at the faded old pictures of Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding.
And one year, one of Sadie’s granddaughters sat with that album, looking thoughtfully at the last picture of the convertible driving away from the church, Sadie’s veil surfing the breeze behind them.
“She drove,” the young woman said, more to herself than to anyone else. “I like that. I think I’m more like Grandma than I thought...”
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story by Patricia Johns,
pick up the first book in the
COMFORT CREEK LAWMEN miniseries:
DEPUTY DADDY
And be sure to check out these other books
by Patricia Johns:
THE RANCHER’S CITY GIRL
A FIREFIGHTER’S PROMISE
THE LAWMAN’S SURPRISE FAMILY
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Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy this story about fresh starts, true love and God’s guidance. If you like my Love Inspired novels, you may also enjoy my previous releases from the Harlequin Western Romance and Harlequin Heartwarming lines. All of my books are sweet romance, which means that it never goes beyond a kiss and the focus is on the emotional experiences of the characters instead of the physical. While the other lines don’t include my faith overtly, they are still written by the same Christian author.
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Patricia Johns
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The Bachelor's Baby
by Mia Ross
Chapter One
Liberty Creek was the last place on earth she wanted to be.
Lindsay Holland reluctantly dragged her feet up Main Street of the backwater New Hampshire village she’d escaped from five years ago, berating herself for allowing her life to slide so far out of control. As her mind took an unpleasant spiral down memory lane, she resolutely jerked her thoughts out of the past to focus on her immediate—and precarious—present. A long line of bad decisions had landed her here, she reminded herself sternly. Now she was completely out of options, and the only thing she could do was find a job so she could begin digging herself out of the black hole that had engulfed her and swallowed up what had once seemed to her like a promising future.
It was a frigid January morning, and a Monday to boot, neither of which did much to lift her mood. Pausing outside the only place in town that was currently hiring, she couldn’t help smiling at the hand-lettered slab of cardboard hanging in the grimy window of Liberty Creek Forge.
“Office Help Wanted” it had said at one point. Apparently, things were getting more urgent, because someone had crossed out “Wanted” and in bold black marker had written “Desperately Needed.”
Constructed in the 1820s by the founders of the town, the building and run-down cottage beside it didn’t look as if they were capable of housing anything other than a lot of spiders and archaic ironworking equipment. But the ad that had been tacked to the bulletin board inside the post office was dated only two days ago, so she’d decided to take a chance on it. How bad could it be? she mused as she knocked on the
door. Worst case, they’d tell her she wasn’t right for the job. She’d heard that so often recently, she’d become immune to the sting of being rejected. Almost.
But this time, she couldn’t let that happen, she reminded herself. She had to make this work because this was the end of the line for her, and as hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to devise a plan B. So Lindsay squared her shoulders and did her best to think positive. It had been so long since anything good had happened to her, she’d almost forgotten what confidence felt like. How depressing.
When no one answered her knock, she inched the door open and realized that whoever was inside couldn’t hear anything over the loud rock music and clanging of steel. She’d been on field trips to the old metal shop during middle school, and as she stepped inside and set down her single duffel bag, it struck her that the lobby probably hadn’t changed a bit in the twenty-six years she’d been alive.
Neat but unapologetically functional, the bare-bones area held four mismatched folding chairs and a battered table that looked as if it could have been left behind by the original owners of the business. The stainless steel coffee maker on top of it looked decidedly out of place, and the collection of teas and coffees alongside it was an encouraging sign. Despite the rustic environment, it was clear that someone thought enough of their staff to provide them with some creature comforts.
A set of wide sliding doors stood at the rear of the entryway, and even though they were closed, she could hear the muffled hard-driving bass from a rock classic. Funny, she thought as she edged one of the doors open, it had been one of her favorite songs since high school. Unfortunately, that brought up more unpleasant memories, and she batted them aside as she strode into the production area of the metalworks.
As tidy as the front was, this section of the building was a step short of a disaster. A tall man wearing a protective mask and leather apron was welding one old piece of equipment to another, possibly even older, machine. Really, he should just call a scrap metal firm to haul everything out so he could start over. Then again, this was her prospective new boss, and in her situation she couldn’t afford to be picky.
Before she could lose her nerve, Lindsay crossed the dusty floor and waited for an opportune moment to tap him on the shoulder. Clearly startled, he whipped around so fast, she had to dodge the glowing torch in his gloved hand.
“Oh, man,” he muttered as he turned away and doused the flame. “I’m sorry.”
He’d scared her half to death, but she forced a bright tone to avoid coming across like a baby. “No harm done. I’m pretty light on my feet.”
For some reason, he kept his back to her and very carefully peeled off the gloves, setting them beside the torch before turning to her. And then, as if in slow motion, he swiveled the welder’s mask back to reveal the very last person she’d expected to see today.
“Brian Calhoun?”
Framed by a riot of brown hair, his deep blue eyes narrowed in the expression she recalled only too well. Those chiseled features hadn’t changed at all over the years, and his jaw clenched a bit before he nodded. “Lindsay.”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a near panic, any thought of making a good first impression gone. There was no point in dancing around the issue. After what she’d done to him, she suspected that Brian wouldn’t hire her if she was the only unemployed office manager left in the universe.
“I own this place,” he informed her coolly. “What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for a job,” she blurted before reason kicked in to remind her that there wasn’t much sense in pursuing this any further. Then again, it had been a long time since she’d left. It was possible that he’d forgiven her. “I was surprised to see your ad at the post office. My understanding was that it was more your grandfather’s hobby shop than anything.”
“It was. He had a heart attack four years ago and wasn’t able to keep the place up the way he always did, so he closed it down. He died not long after that.”
“I’m so sorry... I know how close you two were. You must really miss him.”
“This was where he taught me about metalworking, so I decided to try running it as an actual business again. Kind of as a tribute to Granddad.”
Having moved from pillar to post throughout her childhood, Lindsay couldn’t relate to feeling that kind of connection to anywhere in particular. She’d never considered it a problem, but she’d been kicked around more than she would have liked, and now she envied him of those deep, stabilizing roots. Realizing she should say something, she searched for a response that wouldn’t betray how dire her own circumstances were. “That’s nice.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just stared at her with the penetrating gaze that had once fallen on her with such warmth, she’d almost believed that she deserved his affection. Now there was no sign of anything in it other than icy contempt, and after what she’d done, she couldn’t blame him.
Just when she was about to concede defeat, the wording on his sign came to mind. She was pretty desperate herself, and while this situation was far from ideal, it was the only one available to her. So, hoping to appeal to the innate sense of chivalry that ran in the Calhoun boys’ blood, she took a deep breath and summoned what was left of her dignity. “I need a job, and you need someone to handle the administrative end of the business. I worked as an office manager at a small law firm for two years. I’m very organized and will do whatever needs to be done out front so you can focus on production for your customers. I think we can help each other.”
“Do you?” Cocking his head, he assessed her with a skeptical look. After a few long, uncomfortable moments, he asked, “How’s Jeff?”
“Gone.” She sighed, her fleeting bout of moxie evaporating like mist. “You were right about him.”
Brian absorbed that, shaking his head in silent disapproval. Then, to her utter astonishment, he announced, “I always thought he was a snake. You’re better off without him.”
Bolstered by his reaction, she felt a flicker of hope that this awkward reunion might not end up being a complete disaster. “Thank you for saying that. I know I don’t deserve it.”
That got her a short, derisive laugh. “Because you dumped me for a sweet-talking loser who promised to take you to— Where was it?”
“Nevada. For the record, we never made it past Ohio.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Of course not, Lindsay thought morosely. No one was, except for her. Sadly, that had been only the first of many disappointments she’d had to contend with since breaking free of the confines of this Currier and Ives town to explore the world beyond New Hampshire. Her adventures had left her beyond penniless and anxious to find a safe haven that would allow her to gain her bearings and figure out what came next in a life that up until now had been dominated by wanderlust and chaos.
Working for Brian would be difficult, at best, but she really didn’t see an alternative. “Past atrocious judgment aside, I’m an excellent worker and will do things however you want them done.” Gulping down her anxiety, she added, “I really need this job, Brian. I promise, if you give me a chance, I’ll be very professional and you won’t have a bit of trouble with me.”
He pinned her under an unforgiving scowl. “You let me down once. Why should I trust you again?”
“Because that was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.” He had no idea just how different, she added silently.
Another long pause. Conflicting emotions chased each other like thunderclouds through his eyes, and he seemed to be having some kind of internal debate about her. She wanted to squirm while he thought it over, but managed to stand her ground, holding his gaze with an unflinching one of her own. If he wanted to boot her out the door, fine. But she wasn’t going to turn tail and slink away like a scolded hound. There was too much at stake for her to be timid now.
�
�I’m ready for a break,” he finally said. “Let’s go talk in the office.”
It wasn’t exactly the “you’re hired” she’d been wishing for, but he hadn’t thrown her out into the snow, either. Feeling more optimistic than she had in months, Lindsay tried not to get her hopes up as she followed him back through the shop and into the small office. The plate glass that used to separate it from the work area was gone, and in its place was a banged-up piece of plywood that had seen better days. Brian started up a space heater in the corner, and once he closed the door, the interior warmed up quickly.
“I’m parched,” he said as he opened a countertop fridge and took out a bottle of iced tea. “I’ve got water, too. Would you like some?”
Considering his earlier comments, his offer of something to drink was a huge step in the right direction, and she nodded. “Thank you.”
After handing her the bottle, he twisted the top off his and took a long swallow. She sipped hers and held it against her cheek, enjoying the coolness against her skin.
“It’s pretty warm in here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Can I take your coat?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
Her stoic comment earned her a chuckle. “Your face is getting redder by the second. If you’re worried about it getting wrinkled, I can probably scare up a hanger for it.”
“That’s not necessary.” Hearing the stiffness in her voice, she tried in vain to come up with a way to explain her odd behavior. Then, figuring that showing him was better than telling him, she set her water bottle down on the desk and took off her coat.
If she lived to be a hundred years old, she knew she’d never forget the look on his face.
* * *
“You’re pregnant.”
The Lawman's Runaway Bride Page 18
