Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set

by Julie Ortolon

  Wine punch sloshed over the edge of her glass and dribbled down her knuckles, and a roguish grin tipped his mouth. “If we were alone I would lick that off your fingers,” he said quietly.

  Her breath whooshed out. “You… you don’t miss anything, do you?”

  “Maybe because I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

  His attention thrilled and excited her, and filled her with guilt. He was better at flirting than she was, but he was baiting his own trap with every intimate innuendo. Because when he finally captured her, he would trap himself into marriage—and perhaps a lifetime of despising his wife.

  Would he hate her if he found out the truth about her past? She couldn’t bear his hatred. Would it make a difference to him that she hadn’t been a prostitute?

  She was in over her head. Why hadn’t she sought a man with less rigid values? Why did she have to choose one of the most respected men in town? But she hadn’t chosen him. He’d chosen her, and most of what she’d told him had been the truth. But everything she’d left unsaid was worse than a lie.

  Her mind seesawed, arguing one way then the other until she admitted she couldn’t settle anything tonight. The wine was making her head light. All she could do was straighten her spine and play out the evening.

  Minutes later, Duke escorted her inside the most opulent house she’d ever seen. Glittering chandeliers hung from the ceilings, velvet draperies dressed large windows and complemented the paisley and floral wallpaper. Plush carpets covered the floors, and a grand staircase climbed from a spacious foyer to a candlelit second-floor landing.

  But it was massive golden oak hall tree, that snared her attention. The seven-foot beveled mirror reflected her image, allowing her to see the beauty of her dress, and the man at her side. They were a handsome, well-dressed couple, suited in looks, suited to the surroundings. Hope surged through her, and she met Duke’s questioning gaze in the mirror. Physically she could blend into his world. Maybe that would be enough. If she hid her fears, maybe no one would ever know she didn’t belong here.

  The jaunty angle of her hat made her smile, and Faith silently thanked Iris for giving her a touch of attitude with which to face the evening.

  They filled their plates at the buffet table then found seats at a table on the porch. Faith nodded to their tablemate, Dr. Milton, the man who’d advised Duke to abstain from using his arm then later came to her greenhouse to warn her not to prescribe harmful treatments to the women visiting her. She gave the snob a cordial nod then turned to her supper.

  Another man joined them, and Faith looked up to see Wayne Archer sit opposite Duke. She felt the tension inch higher. He nodded to Faith then Duke.

  “Archer,” Duke said, greeting the man with a brief nod before returning to his meal.

  Not only Duke’s doctor to deal with, but Duke’s rival, and her nemesis, as well? Her appetite fled.

  Dr. Milton laid his napkin over his partially eaten meal. “How is your Evergreen House coming along, Mrs. Wilkins?”

  “Quite well, thank you.” She wasn’t offering the doctor or apothecary any information.

  “Mrs. Guthrey has been raving about some sort of hot bath and massage you’re giving her,” Dr. Milton said. “She claims you’re restoring her health.”

  “I’m sure you know that Mrs. Guthrey’s discomfort comes from working too hard. The bath eases her aches and gives her a chance to rest. The massage and balm soothe her muscles. The treatment would rejuvenate anybody with her ailment.”

  “She claims you give her an herbal tea remedy and a balm to rub onto her skin. It distresses me to have an uneducated woman treating my patients. Are you not afraid of injuring someone with your concoctions?”

  Duke set his fork on his plate, but Faith slid her foot over and tapped his. She could handle the doctor’s arrogance. She didn’t want Duke making enemies on her behalf.

  “I know my herbs, doctor. It’s true I haven’t the benefit of your formal education, but I’ve read numerous medical texts like the pharmacopoeia, and studied anatomy, botany, herbal medicine, and Eastern healing techniques. The tea I give Mrs. Guthrey contains chamomile and willow bark to relax her and ease her pain. The balm is a topical treatment for the same purpose. Mrs. Guthrey is likely suffering pain in her gluteus maximus and biceps femoris muscles because of a pinched sciatic nerve.”

  His eyebrows lifted before he could hide his surprise. “Impressive, Mrs. Wilkins, but what is causing this situation?”

  “I suspect she twisted her hips and strained her back by doing work that’s too heavy and strenuous for her.”

  “Reading a few books cannot compare to years of study and practice. I learned alongside a knowledgeable, well-respected doctor.”

  “Then I’m surprised you advised Sheriff Grayson not to use his arm until his shoulder injury healed. Surely you could see that his deltoid, triceps, and biceps muscles were shrinking and growing stiff. By the time the sheriff asked for my help, he could barely lift his arm as high as his shoulder.”

  “Are you suggesting that your treatment has improved his condition?”

  “She doesn’t have to suggest, Doc. See for yourself,” Duke said, lifting his fist above his head.

  They had made progress in the five weeks she’d been treating him, but his range of motion was still restricted by shrunken, tender muscles, and it would take several more weeks to completely free up his arm. For him to lift his arm like that had to be unbearably painful. His jaw was clenched, but he stared at the surprised doctor and lowered his arm without a single grunt of pain.

  “There’s your proof. Her business is a nice addition to the healing arts in this town.”

  The doctor was silenced, but Archer scoffed. “Sheriff, I realize Mrs. Wilkins is your companion, but you go too far defending someone who dallies in medicine without proper education.”

  Faith feared Duke was going to throttle Archer, but he shocked her by grinning. “Are you threatened, Archer?”

  “Only by the trouble we’ve been having with those swindlers and thieves you’ve been letting run loose.”

  The doctor pushed away from the table. “Excuse me, gentlemen… Mrs. Wilkins, I’m in need of a cheroot and a cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll join you,” Archer said, stepping away from the table. He stopped and scowled at Faith. “Your brother bought some glass vials from my store the other day. I would prefer that you come for the items yourself, as I’ve had some things come up missing of late.”

  Duke shoved to his feet, but Faith caught his hand. “I’d like another dance if you don’t mind?” She stepped around the table then faced Archer. “Rest assured no one in my family will visit your business again.”

  Duke leaned close to the man, his voice low and controlled. “One rumor, Wayne, even one negative comment about Mrs. Wilkins or her family, and I’ll be knocking on your door. And it won’t be to make a purchase.”

  He stepped around Archer and guided Faith down the steps. “I’m sorry,” she said as they crossed the yard. “I should have kept quiet.”

  Duke looked at her with clear admiration. “You were amazing with the doctor.”

  Relief washed through her, followed by a giddy sense of victory. “So were you,” she said. “How did you manage to raise your arm so high without screaming?”

  “I knew it was the only way to keep my fist out of Milton’s arrogant mouth.”

  “The doctor was rather arrogant.”

  “He was an ass.”

  She smiled. “So was Archer. No wonder you don’t like the man.”

  “I don’t dislike him or Doc Milton. They’ve both done good things for the community. Archer’s hoping that by discrediting me, it will get him the job as sheriff.”

  “Why does he even want to be sheriff when he has his apothecary?”

  Duke shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t care, as long as Taylor, Phelps, or I win. Archer would ruin our community.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t hit him. I would never wa
nt to cause you to fight.” And she prayed he would never have to. But Syracuse wasn’t that far away, and Judge Stone would never stop looking for her.

  “It was Archer’s mouth that boiled my blood, not your comments. He glanced at the carriage house where the band was tuning up. “Did you want to dance?”

  She shook her head. “Truthfully, I’d rather leave, but I suppose it would look bad.”

  “Not if we slip away.” He guided her through the crowd of people scattered across the lawn, nodding to several guests but not stopping to speak them. When they reached the beverage table, he picked up two glasses of wine. “I’ll return the glasses tomorrow.”

  “Are those for you?” she asked, wondering if this was a side of him he kept hidden. Iris said no one was perfect. What if he had a taste for alcohol?

  “They’re for us.”

  “You just warned me not to drink any more.”

  “Because you were drinking it like punch.” He handed a glass to her. “Sip this one.”

  Before she had a chance to taste it, Duke led her across the side lawn then pulled her behind the carriage house. He hurried them to a side street then walked her to Main. Gas streetlamps cast circles of hazy yellow light across the dusty street.

  “That was exhilarating,” she said, sipping her wine to calm her racing heart.

  He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist. “I had hoped to have a few more dances with you.”

  “And I had hoped to use the dance floor to show off this gorgeous dress,” she said, watching the play of light and shadow across the silk fabric of her skirt.

  “Here I’d thought you wanted to dance so you could get your hands on me.”

  She laughed. “That too.”

  “Really?” He stopped and faced her. “Do you enjoy being with me?”

  “I would think it’s obvious, but yes,” she said, her face warming as she spoke aloud the truth in her heart. “I enjoy it very much.”

  “I want to talk with you in private,” he said, leading her down Eagle Street. “Do you have a blanket or towels and a lantern in the greenhouse?”

  “Yes, but my anxiety is as strong as my curiosity. Why do you want those things?”

  He linked his fingers with hers. “I’m taking you to a swimming hole not far from your place. Colburn dammed a section of the creek behind that building so he could manage his water supply to the gristmill. My brothers and I have been swimming there since we were boys. The mill pond makes a good spot to cool off in the summer.”

  They stopped at the greenhouse then headed across her backyard Duke carried the towels and a lantern. Faith carried their half-full wineglasses in one hand and lifted her skirt with the other. They followed the bank of the burbling feeder stream that cut through a rutted field clotted with bushy maple trees.

  “If I don’t break my neck it will be a miracle,” she said.

  “Just don’t spill the wine if you fall,” he replied.

  She laughed and stumbled, bumping his shoulder. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. He wouldn’t admit it if she had.

  She stepped cautiously, but her ankles wobbled over every ridge and crevice in the rutted ground. “If I ruin my new shoes—”

  “I’ll buy you another pair.” He clamped the towels under his elbow and transferred the lantern to that hand, allowing him to slip his free arm around her waist. “We’re almost there, but I’ll carry you if you’d like.”

  “And ruin all my work on your shoulder? Not a chance. Besides, you would break your back if you tried to lift me. I’m wrapped in yards of material.”

  “Careful, you’re tempting me to unwrap you.”

  “And you’re tempting me to run back to my safe little greenhouse.”

  They laughed quietly in the dark, the two of them sneaking away from a world that judged too harshly and asked too much. The night air was soft against her face and smelled earthy fresh in her nostrils. She liked this place already, and knew she would find her way back as soon as possible. The sound of night peepers filled the night, and she could hear the plop of a toad or frog jumping into the water as they approached a large pond.

  The lantern shimmered across the water and gilded the leaves of a maple tree growing at the edge of the pond. Duke set the lantern beneath the tree and spread the towels on the grass. He dimmed the lantern until it illuminated a small circle around it.

  “Look up, Faith.”

  Standing, she lifted her face to a vast night sky peppered with bright glowing stars. Her tension flowed out with her breath. “I haven’t looked at the stars or watched the sunset in two months.” Sadness filled her. “How do we forget so quickly? How do we allow ourselves to get too busy to appreciate such simple things as a night sky?”

  He didn’t answer. Because there wasn’t an answer. You either looked for the stars or missed them.

  He stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, holding her loosely. “My dad could clap his hand on my shoulder and make me feel ten feet tall. A small gesture, but one I’ll never forget.”

  In life, those were the things that mattered most—a night sky, a touch of affection, a smile of approval, all without cost but of immense value to a person’s soul. Faith finished her wine in silence, looking at the stars, listening to the rhythm of the night peepers, wishing she could enjoy this without memories and guilt weighing her down.

  “My mother visited Fredonia one fall when the leaves were turning, and the smell of ripe grapes filled the air. She told me the church bells sounded like angels singing.”

  Duke’s arms tightened in a gentle hug, as if he understood her heartache, and that words would never console her.

  “She wanted to live here in a small house with a big porch and a rose garden, but she never came back.”

  “Why not?” he asked softly, echoing Faith’s own relentless question. Why not? Why hadn’t she dared what Faith and her aunts were doing? What had stopped her?

  “I don’t know.” Faith sighed. “Maybe it’s best. She would have been disappointed to know there are horse thieves and men like Archer living here.”

  “Weeds grow in every garden, Faith.”

  She laughed at his analogy. “You’ve been spending too much time in my greenhouse.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I like spending time with you.”

  What she felt for him went far beyond like. Hot desire, deep admiration, and an embarrassing fondness for his kisses could only begin to describe her feelings for him. Her body was tingling in a so many places, she would sound like the peepers if her nerve endings could emit sound. She wanted to make his body sing like hers, to give him one good reason to marry her. Wasn’t that what mattered most to a man? To have a submissive and pleasing wife?

  “Faith, why don’t you ever talk about your late husband?” He may as well have shoved her into the cold pond. “Doesn’t Cora ask about him?”

  Her heart clamored, but she warned herself to stay calm. “I don’t want her to know the caliber of man who fathered her.”

  Duke turned her to face him. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Not the way you think,” she said, trying to find an explanation that would allow them to permanently bury the subject. “Her father was corrupt. I was relieved when he was no longer part of our lives.” Her conscience barely balked, because every word was the truth.

  And she was done talking about her life for the night. She wanted to head toward her future, not linger in her past. For her own sake. For Cora’s and Adam’s sakes.

  She frowned and upended her empty glass. “We should have brought more wine.”

  “Are you thirsty?”

  “No.”

  “Nervous then?”

  “Yes. I’m not used to standing in the dark with a shadow man.”

  His mouth quirked. “This shadow man would like to kiss you.”

  “Permission granted,” she whispered, and lifted her mouth to his, giving him her t
rust and her passion.

  His arms slipped around her waist, his empty glass dangling from his long fingers, hers resting against her thigh as their bodies met. She thrilled to his touch, and her wishful heart beat hard, begging him to hear her prayer, to marry her and make her dreams come true. And she would give him the one thing she’d never been able to give another: her heart.

  His mouth grew more eager and she fit herself against body, making him groan. He kissed her hard and fast, like he was starving and couldn’t control his greed. But maybe she was greedy. She felt desperate and needy. He ground his hips against hers, his hard thigh riding high between her legs as he kissed her like she’d never been kissed in her life.

  Because none of the men before Duke had cared about her. She was a whore’s daughter unworthy of them.

  Her body trembled as she broke the kiss. “Have you ever been in love?” she whispered.

  He braced his chin against her forehead, his breathing ragged. “Once,” he said. “When I was ten.”

  She smiled at his honesty, and at the thought of him as a dark-haired, wide-eyed boy.

  “She was my teacher, and she had the nerve to marry a man her own age and move away.”

  Touched by his mix of humor and sincerity, Faith caressed his warm cheek, loving the prickle of new whiskers breaking through his recent shave. “You are so charming. I don’t know how any woman could walk away from you.”

  He leaned back, revealing the sculpted shadows of his face. “Don’t walk away, Faith.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I mean ever.” He broke away to kneel by the lantern. He raised the wick, illuminating his handsome face and the hand he held out to her. “Will you marry me?”

  Her breath whooshed out. She stared at him, so golden and beautiful kneeling beneath the gilded maple tree, offering the life she’d prayed for.

  “I’ve seen how happy my brothers and their wives are with each other. I didn’t think I’d ever find that with anyone until I met you. My head, my heart, and my gut say you’re the one for me, and that we can share that same joy and passion. Say you’ll be my wife, that we can create a good, happy life together.”