by Mia Ross
He felt a slight pressure on his shoulder, as if someone had reached down to give him an encouraging pat. It reminded him of the way Granddad had reassured him as a boy, and the memory made him smile. With Jenna’s unwavering support, he’d finally forgiven himself for missing his grandfather’s last days and had fully embraced the legacy he’d received.
He never would have chosen to gain his first home this way, but now he viewed his inheritance as the blessing it was. If only circumstances would allow him to share it with Jenna, he’d be a happy man.
When he finished cleaning, he took inventory of his supplies and made a list for his next visit to Stegall’s Hardware. Now that he’d made peace with his past, he preferred to do business in person rather than dodging contact with the residents of his hometown. Even folks who’d started out with frosty stares had begun to come around, and he was pleased to discover his persistence was beginning to pay off. Just as Jenna had predicted, he thought with a grin.
As if on cue, through a side window he saw her van coming up the driveway. Reminding himself to let her do the talking, he set his list on a table and forced himself to walk slowly. He didn’t want her to think he was some pathetic puppy dog who’d been counting the hours until she came back. Even if that was how he’d been feeling.
She parked next to his truck, and he strolled over to kiss her through the open driver’s window. “Hey there.”
“Hey yourself.” Bathing him in one of her amazing smiles, she leaned her arms on the frame. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Waiting for you.” The response flew from his mouth all on its own, and he followed it with an embarrassed groan. “Sorry about that.”
“Sorry?” She climbed out to stand in front of him. Giving him one of those knowing feminine looks, she stepped closer and snaked her arms around his waist. “For missing me or for admitting it?”
He must have been losing his grip, because it never occurred to him to go the macho route and claim he was just kidding. “Neither, actually. Is that bad?”
She rewarded him with a long kiss that made those three miserable days vanish in a heartbeat. Looping his arms around her, he braced himself for whatever came next. “So, how’d things go in Knoxville?”
“Great. Milo’s a hoot, and his gallery is in a trendy neighborhood surrounded by other artists, writers and performers. Most of them live there, and they attract a lot of young people and families. It’s a fabulous place, and yesterday he offered me a spot in the opening.”
Scott’s heart hit the ground with a thud, and he struggled to keep his expression from diving down after it. “Sounds like a perfect fit for you.”
“It would be,” she agreed, fingering the collar on his shirt. “Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re here with your own business to launch. I’m pretty good at thinking outside the box, but I still haven’t come up with a way to be in two places at once.”
His foolish heart rebounded like a rubber ball, and he did his best to catch it before he got emotional whiplash. “What’re you saying?”
He wanted to hear the words. No, he realized, it was more than that. He needed to hear this beautiful, aggravating woman tell him she was choosing him over the professional opportunity she’d dreamed of for so many years.
The coy smile she gave him told him she’d picked up on his unspoken wish. “That I’d rather be here with you.”
“Are you sure? I mean, this gallery slot could be a once-in-a-lifetime kinda thing.”
“So are you.”
A flood of emotions was threatening to swamp him, and he drew her in for a long, grateful kiss. “Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Eyes sparkling in fun, she added, “The hermit and the artist. Who’d have thunk it, huh?”
Chuckling, he flipped her single braid back over her shoulder. “Not me, that’s for sure.”
These days, though, he couldn’t seem to think about much else. So, before he could lose his nerve, he plunged ahead. “I had a lot of time to mull things over while you were gone, and I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
He’d run a dozen different speeches through his mind, but every one of them evaporated when he looked into those sparkling blue eyes.
“Jenna, my life got better the day I met you. You’re patient with me, but you don’t let me get by with any nonsense, either. It may not always seem like it, but I’m grateful for everything you’ve done to help me, and I love you more than you’ll ever know. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she breathed without hesitation, wrapping him in the kind of warm embrace he knew he’d never get tired of if he lived a hundred years. “There’s one condition, though.”
She held up her pointer finger, and he grasped that talented hand and held it against his chest. “Anything you want.”
“We have to get married here, in the chapel. It means a lot to your family, and restoring it is what brought us together. We should make it part of our wedding day.”
Coming from her, the request made perfect sense, and he smiled. “Works for me.”
Epilogue
“I haven’t been out here in years,” Olivia said, looking around the old homestead with a fond expression. Coming back to Scott and Jenna, she beamed at them. “It looks like a home again. Will would be so proud of what you two have done with this place.”
Jenna had spent most of the summer wrestling the yard into shape while Scott rehabbed what was now a cheerful yellow cottage set in the woods. It had been a lot of hard work, but also a labor of love they’d both dedicated to the generous man who’d found a way to nudge his wayward grandson back onto a better path.
And now, on a crisp September day, their wedding guests were milling around the chapel, admiring the fine woodwork and, of course, the stunning window.
With a smile for her husband, Jenna asked Olivia, “Did Scott tell you our plans for the chapel?”
“No.” Edging closer, she whispered, “Is it a secret?”
“Not anymore,” Scott joked with a grin. “We’re gonna combine our two businesses and run them from here. We’re still working on a name, but since we’re both Barretts now, that should make it easier to come up with something.”
“You’ll stay at the mill, though, won’t you?”
“Yeah. With the busy season coming up, Paul needs me.”
Jenna heard the pride in his voice and barely managed to keep from hugging him. He’d come so far this year, she sometimes had trouble believing he was the same cool, distant man she’d met at Will’s grave site that spring.
When she noticed one of their guests looking slightly out of place, she called out, “Tess!”
The slender young woman she’d met in California last year glanced at Jenna, and a grateful smile replaced her apprehensive expression. They’d invited her, hoping Tess would take the opportunity to get acquainted with her extended family in Virginia. Still, Jenna couldn’t begin to imagine how much courage it took to travel across the country to meet dozens of strangers at a wedding. Then again, being a Barrett, Tess clearly had plenty of attitude to spare.
Joining them, she handed Scott an envelope. “A little something from me to help you two get your studio up and running.”
No mention of her parents, Jenna noted with curiosity. Interesting.
Scott thanked her with a smile, and Olivia slipped an arm around her in a quick hug. “Are you having fun getting to know everyone?”
“Definitely. I just wish I could keep them all straight.”
“If you come back and stay awhile, that will help,” her grandmother suggested in her usual, non-subtle fashion. “There’s a room in my house for you whenever you want it.”
“Thanks, Gram. I just might take you up on that.”
As Jenna watched them go, a sudden rush of emotion caught in her throat. “Olivia’s an amazing woman, isn’t she?”
“All the Barrett women are.” Embracing her from behind, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Which reminds me, what’d your mom have to say when she called this morning?”
“That she’d come for a visit soon. She appreciated the invitation, but she said she didn’t want to make things tense for us on our special day.” Sighing, Jenna went on. “We have a ways to go still, and we may never be as close as we could’ve been, but I think we can make it work.”
“You’re welcome.”
Spinning in his embrace, she did her best to glare at him. But really, it was their wedding day, and she didn’t have the heart to be truly angry with the only man she’d ever come across who saw all her quirks and loved her in spite of them. Judging by his shameless grin, the gesture had no impact on him anyway. “Did I say thank you?”
“Not yet, but you will.” Circling his arms around her, he gave her a light kiss. “I’m spending the rest of my life with you, so I can wait.”
Unable to resist the unique combination of arrogance and tenderness that made Scott who he was, she cuddled against him with a contented sigh.
This definitely worked for her.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from ALASKAN HOMECOMING by Teri Wilson.
Dear Reader
As the title suggests, this is a story about finding your way home. Wrapped up tightly with that is having faith—in God, in the people around us, but mostly in ourselves.
It’s the thing Scott needs most since being released from prison. His reluctance to trust anyone outside his own family leaves him feeling lonely and isolated. While his hometown should have felt welcoming, for Scott it’s not that simple. Some people accept him, and some view him with suspicion. Fortunately, Jenna makes up her own mind about folks, and despite his checkered history, she sees plenty of good in him. Her lightheartedness draws him out of that dark past and toward a promising future—with her.
I’m a firm believer in second chances. We might go astray, but with some solid, honest work, we can get ourselves back on the right path. As Scott learns, the first step is to shut out all the everyday noise and listen to what God is trying to tell us. Following that voice is seldom easy, but it leads us to where we’re meant to be.
If you’d like to stop by for a visit, you’ll find me online at miaross.com, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. While you’re there, send me a message in your favorite format. I’d love to hear from you!
Mia Ross
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
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Chapter One
Be still. Do not move a muscle. And whatever you do, don’t scream.
Posy Sutton bit her lip to prevent the forbidden scream from slipping out. She wanted very much to yell for help at the top of her lungs. Who wouldn’t, standing there with an awkward plaster cast on her foot and looking at what was a mere ten feet in front of her?
A bear.
From the looks of its wooly brown backside, a brown bear. Or possibly a grizzly, which, as bears went, was the very worst sort to bump into. Not that a brown bear would be a picnic.
Don’t do it. Don’t scream.
Posy might have been back in her hometown of Aurora, Alaska, for only a matter of hours, but she was no cheechako—Alaska’s common nickname for newcomers. She’d grown up here. Six years in San Francisco couldn’t erase the lessons she’d had drilled into her as a child. She knew how to behave around bears in the wilderness—avoid eye contact, do not scream or yell. If the bear doesn’t see you, walk away very slowly. If the bear does see you, play dead.
The problem was that she wasn’t exactly in the wilderness at the moment. In fact, she wasn’t outdoors at all. She was standing in the fellowship hall of Aurora Community Church. All alone. There wasn’t another soul in sight.
Unless the bear whose tail end was currently sticking out of the overturned trash can in the corner was to be counted. Bears had souls, didn’t they?
Posy rolled her eyes. Now wasn’t exactly the time to contemplate the eternal salvation of Smokey, Paddington and the like.
The bear grunted, its rumbling voice echoing from within the metal trash can. It sounded so...so...sinister. And hungry. Very hungry. Like every growling stomach in the universe all rolled into one. Posy’s heart thumped so hard, she thought it might beat right out of her chest. She’d never been so terrified in her life. Not even the first time she’d danced the role of Clara in The Nutcracker as a ten-year-old. Nor opening night of her debut as a soloist with the West Coast Arts Ballet Company, plucked from the corps de ballet and thrust directly into the spotlight.
She was standing in an enclosed space with a grizzly. And she was on crutches. Could it get any worse?
One sound, one telltale movement and the bear would realize she was there. And she’d be taken down like a weak zebra on the National Geographic Channel.
She tightened her grip on her crutches and took a deep, calming breath, much like the one she always took in the final seconds before the red velvet curtains parted on performance nights. Only this breath wasn’t all that calming. Her chest grew tighter. She thought she might be hyperventilating. She prayed for a paper bag. Or better yet, a can of bear repellent.
Bear repellent.
Posy hadn’t seen a can of bear spray in years. San Francisco wasn’t without its dangers, but bears didn’t exactly make the short list. Or the long list. Or any variation of the list whatsoever. Bear repellent was obviously no longer a staple in her handbag. But hair spray certainly was. Ballerina buns didn’t stay put on their own.
Without taking her eyes off the bear’s broad, furry hindquarters, she anchored her right crutch firmly under her arm and reached into her purse for the can of Aqua Net that she never went anywhere without. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly Mace for wild animals, but maybe it would do in a pinch. As carefully and quietly as she could manage, she pried off the lid. But her hands were shaking so badly that it fell to the ground before she could catch it.
To Posy’s ears, it sounded louder than a gunshot when it hit the tile floor and bounced what had to be at least a dozen times. The world came to an abrupt standstill. Save for the lid to the Aqua Net clattering around like a pinball, nothing moved. Not Posy. Not the dust in the air. Not even the bear. All rummaging had ceased. Not a muscle moved in that furry back end, until the bear slowly began walking backward, extricating itself from the trash can.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.
Posy took an instinctive step backward with her left foot. The injured one. Pain shot through her plaster cast, and she stumbled. One crutch clattered to the ground. She seized on to the other with both desperate hands and teetered sideways. The crutch wobbled. And the tile floor suddenly seemed to be rising up to meet her. Just as she realized she was going down, the bear shot the rest of the way out of the trash can in a fuzzy brown blur.
Posy screamed. She no longer cared about the rules. If she was about to become bear chow
, someone somewhere was going to hear about it. Her scream echoed off the walls of the fellowship hall as she tumbled to the ground.
Then, before her body made contact with the hard tile, she was lifted into the air from behind by a powerful force. Her terror grew tenfold. And her first thought was that she was being tag teamed. By bears.
Well, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She had only one weapon left at her disposal, and she didn’t hesitate to use it. She pressed down on the Aqua Net nozzle as hard as she could and aimed the can over her shoulder, screaming all the while.
“Ouch! What the...”
The talking bear—talking bear?—released its hold on her and she toppled to the floor, landing squarely on her backside, which was good. She didn’t mind a bruised behind as long as she didn’t reinjure her foot. Assuming she wasn’t about to be eaten, she needed that foot to heal in time for the spring production of Firebird.
“What was that for?”
Posy glanced up at the figure towering over her.
A man. Not another bear.
A man.
A man pressing the heels of his hands into his puffy red eyes and groaning as though he’d been doused with pepper spray or something.
Posy glanced at the can of Aqua Net still clutched in her hand. Great. Just great. Someone had actually come to her aid, and she’d maced him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spray you. I meant to spray him.” She pointed toward the bear, which had extricated itself from the trash can and was now spinning happy circles chasing its tail.
Posy stared at it. That didn’t seem like normal bear behavior. And now that she got a good look at the creature, it looked less like a bear and more like a...
“My dog?” the man barked. “You wanted to spray my dog with hair spray?”
