Where the Heart Is Romance Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Jesse’s eyes searched hers tenderly. “There are lots of promises to believers that things work out for good; you can walk through a dark valley, and God will be with you; be in a flood, and you won’t drown; even in a fire, and you won’t be burned. He doesn’t say you will be spared some troubles, but He does say things will work out if you have faith to trust.”

  Mary almost believed there would be a way she and Jesse could be together; then she frowned at the realization that this was one dream that was never meant to be.

  “Why the gloomy look?” He leaned forward, his eyebrows raised.

  She fought an overwhelming need to touch him. Tearing her gaze away she said, “It’s nothing. I just wonder if we’ll return to a newborn baby.”

  Jesse sat back, smiling. “I don’t think so. But Dr. Morgan has the situation in hand.”

  Mary felt a sorrow that after this evening she’d never see Jesse again and ate quietly, in spite of his attempts to make her smile.

  Back in their room, Elizabeth and Dr. Morgan sat, calmly sipping tea and finishing sandwiches, looking as if they’d been chatting about the latest fashions. Dr. Morgan said, “She’s just fine, but I’ll stay with her for a few minutes, if it’s all right with you.”

  Jesse and Mary agreed and left to stand out on the platform to watch the scenery. The moment they stepped outside they were rewarded with the sight of a blue sparkling lake on their left.

  “Donner Lake,” said Jesse with reverence, his voice close behind her.

  His hand, next to her, gripped the rail. If she leaned back a little, she’d be enclosed in his embrace. If she turned to face him… She left off that perilous line of thought.

  He moved to her side, and she felt a familiar pull, drawing her to him. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon. Are you having troubling thoughts?”

  She continued soaking in the raw beauty of the lake. “It’s a bit daunting to think I’ll be seeing my father today.” She smoothed her hair. “What if it turns out badly? What if it turns out well? I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

  “You could stay,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

  “But I’ve accepted the position in Boston. I must return immediately.”

  “Mary, your father isn’t as healthy as he once was. Remember, it’s been many years since you’ve seen him.” The train lurched around a curve, throwing her toward him. He embraced her, and she rested for a moment with her cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the quick beat of his heart. He leaned his chin on her head. She savored the moment—so she’d never forget.

  As if they’d both accepted this new dimension of their relationship, they turned to watch the view, his arm on her shoulder. She relaxed in the sweet moment of quiet communication. The train began to descend, the brakes holding them back, lest they roll too fast.

  Back in their room, Elizabeth was alone, lying on the seat, looking tired and pale. “We’re in California, aren’t we?” She craned her neck to see out the window.

  “Yes. We’re heading downhill toward Sacramento,” said Jesse.

  “How are you?” asked Mary, crouching down beside Elizabeth.

  “I’ve been better. But the baby is fine. Dr. Morgan says it’s going to be soon.” She smiled through a grimace of pain.

  Dr. Morgan returned with good news. The engineer had wired ahead, and the train would be stopping in Colfax where a doctor was waiting. She also said he’d wired the Oakland station to inform her husband. Soon the train screeched to a halt, and they helped Elizabeth get off. She looked back and laughed triumphantly. “My baby will be born in California!”

  Back on their journey, Mary’s anticipation grew as she wondered what it would be like to see her father after all this time.

  The mountains had receded back to the horizon. The train now rolled through fields of grain and grass, and colorful flowers beckoned on all sides.

  Jesse invited her to sit beside him. “We’ll be arriving in Sacramento soon, then it’s going to be lively and bustling from there to Oakland. If you have any last minute questions or worries, we can dispose of them now.”

  He waited while Mary sat stroking the burnt ribbon and silk square. “I can’t think of anything to ask. I only hope it turns out well.”

  “It will.” Jesse reached out his two hands. “Let’s pray about it.” Mary put her hands in his, and they bowed their heads.

  He began, “Father, You know how deep a father’s love is. Please direct this meeting of Mary and her father. Make it a happy, satisfying reunion.”

  She continued, “And I ask that there be no trace of unforgiveness or uneasiness. Please direct our meeting and help me to be the daughter he expects.”

  They continued their prayer until the final “amen.” Mary opened her eyes to see his shining back at her full of hope and affection, and she drank it in. After a moment she stood, nervously glancing around. Outside, low, curving hills with soft outlines rose and passed.

  “We’re coming into Sacramento. We’ll be in San Francisco by twilight.” He turned with a smile. “You are going to make your father so happy.”

  Mary sighed. “I read adventure stories, and this is just like being in one. But in those stories, the heroines always know what to do.”

  “You are a heroine, Mary Sherwood. Your father loves you and—”

  The brakes screeched, blocking out what else Jesse was saying. It almost sounded as if he’d said “so do I.” But that must have been hopeful thinking. As she watched sparsely placed windmills and houses pass by, she abandoned herself to the fantasy of Jesse loving her. It would be all she’d have of him. Just her fantasies.

  The train rolled on, over a long trestle, through the Sacramento suburbs, and along the levee with the river on one side and a slough on the other, its half-submerged roofs and timbers revealing the ravages of a flood. She felt complete with Jesse sitting beside her as they passed a machine and repair shop with the words Central Pacific on them and rolled slowly by roundhouses and car sheds, then through the Chinese Quarter.

  “It’s amazing! Five hours ago we were in the mountains. And look at this.” She pointed to the tidewater from the Pacific, a steamer on the river, and a long train on the other bank.

  The train lurched to a stop, and Jesse grabbed her hand. “Let’s get a picnic to eat here in our room. It will be fun!”

  “Let’s!” The thought of a quiet dinner, their last, sounded so romantic she laughed.

  They hurried through the noisy Sacramento station full of rushing people, hacks, hotels, daily papers, food stands, shoe shine stands, and a line of ticket windows. They bought bread, sliced meat, cheeses, pickles, and fruit juice. As they headed back to the train, they heard a loud voice calling, “Mr. Jesse Harcourt! Mr. Harcourt!”

  The teenaged boy calling Jesse’s name ran through the station with his hand up so he’d be seen. Jesse stopped him. “I’m Jesse Harcourt.”

  The boy grinned from ear to ear, as if he’d struck gold. “Stay right here, please! I was given a gold coin to find you and promised another if I could convince you to wait a moment.” He ran off through the crowd.

  Jesse turned a quizzical gaze to Mary. “What on earth?”

  She looked around, saw only hurried passengers and families, and shrugged. She glanced up at Jesse and found him looking past her, eyebrows high, his eyes wide in surprise.

  She turned to see a tall man with dark but graying curly hair walking toward them. His shoulders stooped forward, and he leaned on a cane. She glanced back at Jesse, who was grinning broadly as he approached the man with his hand extended.

  As the man slowly drew near, he gazed keenly at her. His blue eyes…

  “Mr. Sherwood!” Jesse grabbed the man’s hand and looked back with joy at Mary.

  Her father! Her head felt suddenly light, and she took a quick breath, fighting to control her churning emotions. He had aged so much in the last thirteen years that she didn’t recognize him. His once handsome face
was lined with evidence of worry and fatigue, and though still tall, he seemed shorter now.

  But his quick blue eyes shone out from that lined face. “Mary.” A sheen of unshed tears brightened his eyes. “You’re more lovely than I’d dreamed.” He held her with his intense gaze.

  Love unexpectedly overflowed Mary’s heart, but she didn’t know how to respond. Her father handed his cane to Jesse and opened his arms to her. He was taking a chance. She might refuse to embrace him. But she walked into his arms and let him hug her for a long time, making up for the years they’d missed.

  He broke the hug and held her at arm’s length. “I couldn’t wait for you to come to San Francisco. I’ve been searching for you for a long, long time.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I’ll be back in a moment,” Jesse said and left them to talk. Her father told her how he’d almost lost hope, but Jesse kept it alive. They laughed and cried happy tears. She told him of her home in Massachusetts with Mrs. Palmer, Eugenia, and Lolly.

  “Eugenia was with you!” His relief made him sag for a moment; instinctively she reached out to steady him. “May God bless her for that. She kept you safe.”

  The conductor called, “Courtland, Pittsburg, Oakland, and points west! Departing in ten minutes.”

  Mary looked for Jesse and saw him coming through the crowd boarding the train. She wanted him never to be far from her again. Glancing at her father, she realized she could not get back on that train immediately as she’d planned. There was so much more to say.

  Her father, still smiling, leaned both hands on his cane and said, “I have my coach and driver out front, and I am ready to take you to our home in Eureka. But now this old man needs to sit a moment.” He moved toward a bench left vacant by the departing passengers.

  He moved slowly, and Mary followed him, again glancing back at the train. Jesse stood beside her father and looked at her, a question in his eyes.

  “Jesse, I must speak to you for a moment.” She moved a few feet away from the bench. He bent his head to hear her above the noise. “There is so much my father and I need to talk about. I don’t think I can go right back immediately as I’d planned.”

  Jesse’s face lit up in a wide smile, then he looked up and laughed. “Thank You, God!”

  “But my things!” She pointed to the train. “They’re going to San Francisco!”

  He hugged her, lifting her off the ground, and twirled her around. “There are things you and I need to talk about.” He set her down, then hugged her to him again.

  “Mary, I knew when I saw you that day in Kimberly that you are the woman God made for me. You are my heart—the one I’ve waited for.”

  His gaze, tender and full of love, sent her pulses racing. “I think I knew it too when I saw you standing there on our porch. It was as if I’d been waiting for you to arrive.”

  He held her face reverently, searching her heart. “Mary. I love you. Will you give me a chance? Will you give your father, and Eureka, a chance to win you over?”

  She looked back at him with longing. “My home is where you are,” she said softly. The school in Boston would easily find a replacement.

  He lowered his head to hers, and she trembled as he kissed her sweetly, tenderly. He crushed her to him in a tight embrace, then loosened her. “I’ve got to get our bags off the train!”

  On the bench, her father was watching them, his tired eyes twinkling and a smile on his face. Jesse, holding her hand, led her to him. “Mr. Sherwood, may I have the pleasure of courting your daughter?”

  Her father smiled affectionately. “Looks like you’ve already started, Son.”

  Jesse squeezed her hand and looked at her with pride in his eyes. “That I have, sir. That I have. Oh! One more thing.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small box, and handed it to her.

  The conductor called, “All aboard!”

  She opened the box to find the moss agate she’d admired in the window at Laramie. Her voice was choked up with emotion at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

  Jesse grinned and ran to get their bags from the train—so they could begin their journey and their life on the West Coast.

  JANE LAMUNYON

  Jane says she wrote her first inspirational romance because “I wanted to show that a fulfilling romantic relationship takes three persons: a man, a woman, and God.” Jane is a wife, mother, and grandmother, who lives in Oregon.

  Knight and Day

  by Erica Vetsch

  Chapter 1

  Wyoming Territory,

  April 1874

  They aren’t even here?” Evelyn dropped her valise onto the boardwalk in front of the general store. “We were supposed to meet them in Sagebrush.” What kind of a beginning was this?

  The lean, gray-haired man in a ratty black suit shrugged and ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Things have changed.” His cantankerous scowl belied his claim to be a preacher.

  Her hands went to her hips. “Just how have things changed?” Surely the men weren’t backing out now. Not after all the travel and travail the girls had encountered just getting to this desolate outpost. Dread spiked its way up her windpipe, shortening her breath and sharpening her temper. “We’ve had a long trip, and if I never see the inside of a stagecoach again, it will be far too soon. The stage was supposed to arrive here yesterday afternoon, and instead we’ve spent an entire night in that dreadful conveyance making up lost time. We’re tired, hungry, and in no mood to be trifled with. Kindly point us in the direction of the nearest hotel so we may refresh ourselves and await our intended husbands.”

  He inserted one of his long, bony fingers between his collar and his turkey-red neck and swallowed, making his scraggly beard lurch. “You want a hotel, get back on board and head fifty miles back to Cheyenne. If you want to get married, get yourself and your gear into the wagon. I have to be over to Dellsville tonight. I’m doing this as a favor to Kittrick and the rest, and you being late has set me back. I’ll haul you out to the ranches and do the marryin’, but only if we can leave right now.” His eyes bulged a bit, with more than a hint of wildness to them.

  “But I thought the men all lived close together, in Sagebrush.” First their husbands failed to meet their stage, and now they didn’t even live in the town?

  “Naw, they don’t live in town.” He looked at her as if she had gravel for brains. “They’re ranchers. They do live close together… well, close as far as Wyoming distances go. It’ll be late afternoon before I get the last one of you dropped off.” His scowl could’ve curdled fresh milk. “That is, if we ever get going in the first place.”

  Evelyn sized him up, wary that this John Brown look-alike might be trying to pull the wool over their eyes. “Are you really a preacher? I’ve never encountered such a cranky, caustic man of God before.” She tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders to ward off the fresh breeze.

  “Yeah, I’m a preacher. If you don’t believe me, head into the store and ask Jake. But don’t take all day.” He turned away, muttering. “Cranky, am I?”

  Jane, Gwendolyn, and Emmeline all looked to her for a decision, just as they always had. Little Jamie held Emmeline’s hand, his face—so like his father’s—pale with exhaustion. He yawned, and Evelyn fought the need to yawn as well. Exhaustion after their night of travel tugged at her limbs and eyelids. She couldn’t remember her last decent night’s sleep, and every muscle ached from that butter churn of a stagecoach.

  She bit her lip, her thoughts chasing one another until they all merged into one. They had no choice but to accept the situation. Just as they’d had to accept Papa’s death, the notice to vacate the teachers’ quarters at the academy, and the marriage proposals of four strangers two thousand miles from all that was dear and familiar. She wanted to press her fists to her temples and scream, but she confined herself to a silent prayer.

  God, why do You keep doing this to us? Why do You take, take, take from us without giving us even a choice
in the matter?

  “Very well, Reverend…?”

  “Cummings. Most folks just call me Preacher.”

  “Reverend Cummings. If you will be so kind as to load our luggage, we’ll just step into the store for a few minutes.” Not giving him time to protest, she herded the girls and Jamie inside, casting a look back over her shoulder as she entered the mercantile. “We won’t be long.” She needed a few minutes to adjust her thinking to the new situation and plan out what to do.

  A rounded man with a jolly face and healthy side-whiskers wiped down a counter. “You must be the brides.” His face split in a grin. “Preacher’s been cooling his heels for half a week waiting for you. Worked himself into a froth, he has.”

  A shaft of weak relief shot through Evelyn. The man outside really was the preacher, and he really would take them to their new homes. At least that hurdle had been taken care of without her having to ask.

  “Is there anything I can get for you before you head out?” The shopkeeper—Jake, wasn’t it?—tossed his cloth aside and rubbed his hands together as if anticipating a big sale.

  She shook her head. “No, there’s nothing we need.” Nor could afford to buy. The store appeared crammed with lots of items they might find useful, but their budget didn’t stretch to anything beyond the barest of necessities. Her reticule held exactly four silver dollars; the sum total of the family’s estate after all the bills had been discharged. If it hadn’t been for their prospective grooms’ generosity in arranging travel and lodging, they wouldn’t even have made it this far—especially as the money had needed to stretch for an extra ticket for Jamie.

  “Emmeline, keep hold of Jamie’s hand. Gwendolyn, be careful with that china.” Her youngest sister trailed her fingers across a white teapot painted with a spray of roses and violets. Jane stood before a wall of shelving loaded with bolts of fabric. Sturdy calicos, twills, flannels, and muslins in a rainbow of hues. Her lace gloves just brushed a bolt of pale green cloth, a wistful expression in her hazel eyes.