Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set

by Julie Ortolon

  “What’s so threatening about him befriending Rebecca?”

  “He’s leading her astray. She never was in trouble at school until she met Adam. And now she has a stolen parasol in her possession.”

  The irritation in Radford’s voice brought Kyle and Boyd over. Kyle brushed sawdust off his clothes. “What’s going on over here?”

  “I invited Faith and the children to the mill this evening,” Duke said, but kept his eyes on Radford. “If you can’t be cordial, stay away from them.”

  “I never said I disliked the boy. I dislike his pursuit of Rebecca. I’m only guilty of being a father.”

  “Wrong, Radford. You’re being narrow-minded and overprotective as always.”

  Radford’s face reddened. “Maybe so, but at least my thinking isn’t clouded by lust.”

  “You think this is about lust?”

  “I think you and the lady should spend some time alone before you put your neck in a noose.”

  Duke took a menacing step forward. His feelings for Faith went far beyond lust, and he felt insulted on her behalf.

  Boyd stepped between them, clapping his hands over their shoulders. “If your bickering is going to lead to a fight, you two are leaving me in a real quandary here. I would wager on Radford winning, but then our good sheriff puffs up like a boiler ready to burst a seam and makes me reconsider. How’s a man to make a good wager when you’re both such hotheads?”

  “No one is going to fight,” Radford said, turning back to work as if nothing had happened.

  Kyle nudged Duke’s sore shoulder. “Before you overheat, I can use some of that steam to help move this timber.”

  And so they went to work. Duke fumed silently, irritated with Radford, irritated with himself. Faith was deserving of more respect. She and the children would hopefully become part of his family soon, and Radford needed to lose his attitude.

  Adam did need a guiding hand, but what thirteen-year-old boy didn’t? Adam wouldn’t compromise Rebecca. Even if he tried, Rebecca was smart enough to walk away. Radford wasn’t giving her enough credit, and that annoyed Duke too.

  Pain sawed at his shoulder while he pounded grappling hooks into a drag of pine logs. He liked owning and working the mill, but his shoulder resented the hard effort tonight. He couldn’t afford to lose the generous stream of income it brought him, but more important, he couldn’t lose the connection it gave him with his brothers. And that’s why his argument with Radford grated on him.

  He wanted his family to approve of Faith. She was a beautiful, smart woman running a decent business. Anna Levens had assured him that Faith and her aunts were honest women, and that nothing untoward was going on at the greenhouse behind his back. He was proud of Faith’s gardening abilities and her talent with healing. And he wanted to marry her.

  Kyle nudged Duke’s thigh with his hand maul then pointed it toward the road. “You have visitors.”

  The instant Duke saw Faith, his anger drained away. Cora ran across the yard to meet him. “Can I ride the horses?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the team of Percherons that were pulling a drag of timber to the sawmill.

  He chucked her under the chin. “Sorry, princess. You can’t ride these beasts, but I know something you’ll like even better.” He walked her to a mountain of sawdust. “You can climb all the way to the top if you want to.” His boyhood experience proved it unlikely she would get halfway up; climbing the pile of pea-sized wood chips was like climbing an hourglass filled with sand.

  Cora dove in hands first and gave the sawdust pile her full attention.

  Faith and Adam walked up. “No wonder you wanted me to see this,” Faith said, her pretty eyes taking in the buildings and mountains of stacked lumber and hewn trees in the yard.

  He’d wanted her to see that he had plenty to offer, that he could support her and her family, but now that Radford had slapped him awake, it seemed like a dumb idea. He didn’t want Faith, or any woman, to marry him for security any more than he wanted to marry because of lust. He would gladly support a wife, but he wanted the passion and love that burned between his brothers and their wives.

  If Faith married him for security it wouldn’t be enough for either of them.

  Faith frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said, but everything was wrong because all he could think about was kissing her. Was this intense need just lust?

  He could slug Radford for planting doubt in his head.

  “The heat in your eyes could ignite your lumberyard,” she whispered, continuing the flirtatious game they’d been playing for two weeks.

  He wanted to touch her and kiss her and make love to her every night for the rest of his life. He’d never felt more sure of anything. His gut insisted Faith was the one. And Radford could stay away if he didn’t approve.

  Sighing, he knelt down and had Adam lift Cora onto his shoulders. She didn’t weigh more than a full picnic basket, but his sore shoulder wouldn’t allow him to lift her above his head. He walked her and the others past towering pallets of stacked lumber and piles of hewn timber being readied for the saw.

  Cora waved at the horses as Kyle drove their team of Percherons to the barn for the night. Adam was so busy exclaiming over the size of the mill when they entered the office, he walked into the statue of Duke’s father.

  “Sorry sir,” he said, before he realized he’d just apologized to a huge wooden carving. “Gosh, it looks just like a real person.”

  Duke chuckled at the boy’s surprise. “Don’t be embarrassed. That statue surprises everybody. My brother Boyd is a master carver. He made the statue in my father’s likeness to honor him. My dad started this mill thirty-five years ago with an axe and a band saw?”

  “That’s your dad?” Cora asked from her perch on Duke’s shoulders.

  Faith reached up and straightened Cora’s stocking. “It’s a statue that looks like his dad, sweetheart.”

  “What’s all this stuff on the walls?” Adam asked, inspecting a circular saw blade hanging from a metal hook.

  “We keep our parts here so we can find them when we need them.”

  He let Adam inspect the tools and saws and grapple hooks that lined the wall, understanding the boy’s keen interest. One of Duke’s earliest memories was gaping at all the strange, exciting items displayed like a wall of toys. They weren’t playthings of course, but as a boy, anything that could cut, shoot, or pound made his hands itch to use it.

  “Come on. I’ll show you how those blades work.” He took them into the mill building, and they clapped their hands over their ears. Adam watched the huge circular blade in awe, Faith gaped in fear, and Cora rocked her legs as if telling Duke to giddy-up and get out of there.

  They stayed long enough to watch the head sawyer slab a maple then hurried outside away from the screaming noise.

  Adam turned in a slow circle to survey the mill. “I want to work here.” He faced Duke, his expression enthralled. “I’ll do anything. I’ll shovel sawdust, or carry lumber, or anything at all.”

  Faith shook her head. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

  “My brothers and I worked here as soon as we could fetch and carry,” Duke told her. He took Cora back to the sawdust pile where she dove in with childish delight. “I started learning how to run the saw when I was Adam’s age.”

  Faith pointed at the mill. “That big saw? In there?”

  He nodded.

  “Good heavens.” She pressed her hand to her stomach as if the thought alone made her nauseous.

  “I wouldn’t let Adam near the blade,” he said, causing both Faith and Adam to react—Faith with horror, Adam with wild optimism in his eyes.

  Faith shook her head. “This is no place for a boy”

  Adam’s expression fell, but he kept quiet, his eyes begging Duke to convince her otherwise.

  “I have to talk to my brothers first, but we have plenty of safe jobs for a boy Adam’s age.” And Radford couldn’t deny they needed an intelligent boy with
a strong back around the mill.

  Faith surveyed the lumberyard as if seeking evidence of a safe job. Adam looked for Duke’s brothers, who were in the yard finishing up for the day. Duke could tell when Adam spotted Radford; the optimism drained from the boy’s face and he hung his head.

  “Never mind,” Adam said. “I have a job at the store, and Faith needs me at the greenhouse.”

  But Duke knew Adam needed to be at the mill with other men he could watch and learn from. He needed a chance to become a man he could be proud of.

  Chapter Twenty

  *

  FAITH MADE ROOM for Iris on the scratchy wool blanket that she’d spread in the lumber wagon. Duke had filled the box with straw, and was taking all of them to Dunkirk to watch the Independence Day parade.

  “It’s not a coach and four,” Iris said, “but it’ll get us there.”

  “I like it.” Adam moved to the front to sit with Dahlia, who was spinning a tale for Cora about turning straw to gold. Tansy and Aster were in the back sharing Faith’s blanket.

  “I couldn’t allow Duke to pay for the street rail for all of us,” Faith explained.

  Iris lifted her eyebrows. “‘Duke’ is it? Hmmm, sounds like you two are getting friendly.”

  Faith lifted her chin. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

  Tansy patted Faith’s arm. “Ignore her, dahlin’. She’s jealous of your youth and beauty.”

  “Of course she is. Our seven-month age difference has always come between us.”

  Tansy’s mouth gaped. “Did I just hear sarcasm from you, child? Lord! You must stay away from Iris. She’ll turn you into a sarcastic, jealous viper like herself.”

  Cyrus, who was up front with Duke and Patrick, clicked his tongue and started their wagon toward Dunkirk and the fireworks. Iris gripped the edge of the box and arched a black eyebrow at Tansy “No wonder you’re all aflutter. I didn’t realize Mr. Daaaahlin’ would be joining us.”

  “Neither did I,” Tansy whispered.

  “It must make you breathless to see him handle those massive horses.”

  “God, yes.” Tansy pressed her palm to her heart. “I can’t keep my eyes off the man.”

  Faith laughed with Aster and Iris.

  “What?” Tansy glared at them with feigned innocence. “What is so humorous about a woman appreciating a man while he works?”

  “Not a thing,” Iris said, “I’ve always enjoyed watching my male friends work.”

  Tansy pursed her lips. “You have a filthy mouth, lady”

  “No, dahlin’, it’s your filthy mind that twisted my words. And I’m not a lady.”

  Tansy lowered her voice. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d fill your feminine syringe bottle with peppermint tea.”

  “Ooh, it sounds exhilarating.”

  Faith hid her smile, but Aster howled from the belly, openly appreciating the bawdy humor that had kept them sane at the brothel.

  “Mama, what are you all laughing about?” Cora asked.

  “Yeah, what are you ladies doing back there?” Patrick hollered.

  Faith felt like she’d been caught peeing in the straw. Two weeks ago she’d been furious with Iris for risking their reputation by acting too outrageous with Patrick, and here she was sharing brothel humor within earshot of the sheriff!

  “Tansy almost fell off the wagon,” Iris said, lounging against the side of the wagon. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dahlin’, she’s still with us.”

  Tansy leaned over and pinched Iris’s thigh. “I’m going to use an infusion made from poison ivy instead!”

  Faith clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her laugh, loving her aunts despite, or maybe because of, their irreverent humor.

  They left the wagon at Duke’s friend’s house on Seventh Street then they walked to Central Avenue to watch the parade. Crowds of people lined both sides of the street, and the crush pressed Faith against Duke’s hard body.

  He stood behind her, but she could feel his torso shift as he leaned down to speak to her. “Best parade I’ve ever been to,” he said near her ear.

  “The parade hasn’t started yet, Sheriff.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  His warm breath on her neck made her shiver in the July heat. If Cora and Adam weren’t standing beside her, she would risk a playful retort, but they were trapped in an endless crowd of people cheering as the first fire company marched toward them, their hose cart proudly leading the way as the marching band followed behind playing the national anthem.

  Faith watched the long procession of fire companies pass. Then carriages with prominent citizens rolled by, followed by a cluster of bicycles that delighted Adam, and Cora, who had charmed her way onto Duke’s shoulders. When the last cyclist waved, the crowd followed the parade to Washington Square to hear a local reverend invoke a blessing on the nation, and the mayor read the Declaration of Independence.

  Every surge and shift of the crowd brought Duke’s body against Faith’s. He touched her back with wide splayed fingers, making her skin tingle in five places. His thigh brushed hers when they strolled arm in arm. When he stood behind her, his groin occasionally nudged her bottom, warning that he was close enough to devour her. And God forgive her wanton ways, but she wished he would.

  She was relieved when he took Cora and went to buy beverages for them. His flirting and teasing and hot kisses were making her crazy.

  And so was Iris. The blasted woman was flaunting her desire for Patrick and not watching a word she said. Faith whispered to her to behave, but Iris was preoccupied with Patrick.

  “Why aren’t you married, Patrick?”

  “I’ve never had the urge.”

  “I think you enjoy women too much to settle for just one.”

  Faith nearly choked. Discreet flirting was one thing. But to have this reckless conversation in the middle of a crowded park was just begging for trouble. Especially when Iris and her exotic looks drew as much attention as the parade.

  “It’s not the one-woman part that’s kept me a bachelor, sweetheart. I was waiting for the right woman.” He fit his palm to her waist and pulled her against him. “I was waiting for you,” he said in a sinfully husky voice.

  To Faith’s utter shock, he pulled Iris into an alley as if she were a dockside hussy

  By dusk, every nerve in Faith’s body was tense. Iris and Patrick had only slipped away for a minute, but it was long enough for Duke to notice their absence and raise an eyebrow at Patrick when the group rejoined and walked to the lake. The crowd gasped and sighed at the colorful display in the dark sky but all Faith could see was her future shattering like the fireworks and burning out one hope at a time.

  How would she and her aunts build a respectable life here if they all behaved as if they still lived in a brothel?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  *

  FAITH OPENED THE doors and windows to air the smell of paint out of the house. Now that the walls were plastered, Tansy was painting like she was possessed. She was in Faith’s bedchamber talking to Cora when Faith entered the room.

  “Look at that bland wall for the last time Tansy waved her hand in a grand arc. “I’m going to paint rolling hills of green grass, with buttercups and purple clover and lavender, and a little gray pony grazing by a crystal clear stream.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “We’re going to have a pony in our room?”

  Tansy tittered. “Not a real one, dahlin’, but if it’s all right with your mother, I’ll paint a picture of one on your wall.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to leave it blue?” Faith asked.

  Tansy’s expression fell. “I haven’t sketched or painted in fifteen years, but this big empty wall has inspired me to try. I thought a pony would make Cora happy. But if you’d rather leave it blue—”

  “No. Go ahead. Cora will love it,” Faith said, remembering the half-finished drawing Tansy had left on their kitchen table years ago. Tansy had later tossed the beautiful sketch into the cookstove and decl
ared her talent dead. Her talent wasn’t dead. Tansy was. Inside. But it warmed Faith’s heart to see that she was corning back to life and finding her desire to paint again.

  While Cora was occupied watching Tansy, Faith slipped out of the bedchamber and found Iris painting the room she shared with Dahlia.

  “Blue does not suit me,” Iris said, scowling at the wall. “I’d prefer something more dramatic, like red.”

  “I’m not surprised. I think you’d choose the boldest, most outlandish of anything to get attention,” Faith said, unable to hide her irritation.

  Iris gaped, her paintbrush suspended in mid-air.

  “Don’t look at me like I have three heads. You know why I’m upset with you.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

  Exasperated, Faith pushed the newly hung door shut to keep their conversation private. “Your behavior with Patrick last night was abominable.”

  Iris sighed and lowered her paintbrush to her side. “The second that man smiles at me, I forget everything but him.”

  “Then don’t see him in public.”

  “Was I that bad?”

  “You went into an alley with him, Aunt Iris! I can’t believe I was the only one in the crowd who noticed.”

  “I won’t see him anymore.” She sighed, her contrition melting Faith’s anger. “I was going to stop anyhow.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is I’m in trouble.” She tossed her brush into the pail of paint. “I’ll tell him not to call anymore.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m just asking you to show some restraint in public and act like a respectable lady.”

  “I’ll never be respectable, Faith. Two months ago I was a prostitute. How am I supposed to go from being a whore to a lady?”

  “By trying.” Iris was making excuses because she was afraid. She was a fish out of water in this pretty little village. Patrick had hooked her, and she was fighting the tug of her heart. And for the first time, Faith understood how difficult this move was for her aunts. For her, it was a new beginning filled with hope; for them, it had to be a constant trial to shed their old ways and make themselves over into women they could barely recognize. But Iris’s struggle was greater, because her true personality bubbled and surged like a geyser, throwing forth intermittent jets of the irreverent, outrageous and loving woman she was inside.