For Love of Liberty

by Julie Lessman

  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he whispered in her ear, both his arm and the warmth of his breath lingering far too long for comfort.

  She swallowed hard. No, not the climb …

  The moment her feet touched solid flooring, she lurched away, almost losing her balance. In another hitch of her breath, he braced her tightly once more, the press of his body to hers doing far more damage than her fear. “It’s okay, Libs,” he said softly, rubbing her back with a gentleness that all but melted her on the spot. “Fear of heights is perfectly normal for most people, but I promise I would never let you fall ...”

  Fall? She battled a gulp as he slowly released her, his heated gaze causing her heart to wobble more than her legs. Oh, sweet mother of mercy—I think I already have!

  Finn hung the lantern on a nail and rolled his sleeves. “All righty, Miss O’Shea, let’s push hay while the lantern shines,” he quipped.

  Hand to her chest to calm the traitorous thump of her heart, Liberty watched as he attacked a stack of bales taller than him, biceps bulging as he hefted several onto the floor. Following his lead, she bent to push one across the rough-hewn floor with an unexpected grunt, grateful she’d remembered to wear her work dress. “Oh my goodness,” she huffed, taking a moment to catch her breath, “you weren’t lying, Finn—these bales weigh a ton!”

  He stopped mid-stride to jag a thick, dark brow. “I never lie, Miss O’Shea,” he said in a husky tone, the two bales he carried obviously no hardship for a muscled body taut from clearing trees and chopping wood. “Or make a promise I can’t keep.”

  Quickly averting her eyes, she attacked another bale, determined to focus more on working than on the man working beside her. After managing to shove a total of six bales to the front of the loft, she was no longer embarrassed over the grunts and groans it wracked from her body. But she and Finn enjoyed amiable conversation nonetheless while the mountain of hay slowly dwindled, even if hers was salted with breathless heaves.

  “You know, sometimes I crave the smells of a barn,” he said without the slightest exertion, a touch of wonder lacing his tone. Hands low on his hips, he assessed the remaining bales with a slow inhale. His chest expanded, as if with pride and pleasure over laboring in a barn. “I can’t wait until I can build my own someday, being surrounded by so many things I love in one place: horses, hay, leather, oats.” He shot her a crooked smile before hefting two more bales. “I guess that sounds silly to a girl.”

  “No, it doesn’t at all.” She tugged at another bale from the stack, carefully shimmying it forward till it toppled over. “I used to practically live in our barn grooming the horses, which was why it was one of my favorite places to be.” Her tone turned wispy as she prodded more hay, remembering how free she always felt astride her palomino. “After riding the ridge, of course.”

  “I know, I used to see you,” he said quietly, muscles straining as he carried more bales to the edge. “The prettiest red hair I ever did see, flowing behind you and shimmering in the sun. I remember thinking you were the most graceful and fluid rider I ever saw astride a horse.”

  “You did?” She paused, bent over a bale she was trying to scoot, his statement flushing her cheeks with a delicious warmth.

  “I did.” He pushed her bale the rest of the way to the edge with little or no effort, then led her over to sit. “You need a rest,” he said, gently nudging her back down when she tried to get up. “We both do.”

  “Sounds like you two might be ready for some lemonade,” Mrs. Poppy called, and both Finn and Liberty tossed a smile over their shoulders to the couple below.

  “Sounds good, ma’am,” Finn said, “but after we finish the last of these bales, though, which shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Well, just come on in when you’re ready, then, all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am, will do.” They watched as the Poppys departed arm in arm, then Finn popped a piece of hay between his teeth and straddled a bale. Eyes reflective, he studied her closely, the sudden intensity of his gaze leaving Liberty more breathless than lugging a loft full of hay. “Also thought you were the plum prettiest girl I ever did see, even at the scrawny age of twelve.” A grin eased across his full lips while the piece of straw twirled in his mouth. “Of course I was pretty scrawny myself back then.”

  “I didn’t think so,” she said, avoiding his scrutiny to pluck some hay of her own, spinning it with her fingers. “You always seemed so much older and stronger than the rest of the boys.”

  “Oh, so you noticed.” His chuckle braised her cheeks with more heat, and she looked away, reluctant to reconnect with those deadly hazel eyes that made her feel so nervous, so vulnerable.

  So alive.

  “I noticed,” she said softly. She quickly bent to flick straw off her skirt, suddenly missing his former tease and taunts that had always stirred more ire than desire.

  “Libby.” The sound of her name on his tongue turned her insides to butter, and she closed her eyes as if somehow that might weaken the effect he had on her. But her pounding pulse and shallow breathing persisted, parching her mouth as dry as the piece of straw quivering in her hand.

  He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, and a gasp parted from her lips when he caressed her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “And I noticed too,” he said quietly, eyes as intense as the sudden thud of her heart, “that since that one kiss with you, Libs, I don’t even want to look at another woman.”

  She caught her breath, the sound almost harsh in the silence as she stared at him through wide eyes, his words stunning her so much, she was barely able to breathe, much less speak.

  A sheepish grin eased across his face as he idly scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know, that was pretty much my reaction, too, when I finally figured it out.” His gaze softened to serious as he slowly trailed his fingers down the curve of her face, the motion so achingly tender, she almost moaned. “But the truth is, no woman has ever affected me like you, Libby—ever—not back in school and not now, so I’m asking you to give me a chance. I know I’ve been a burr under your saddle till now, but I’d like to make it up to you and start all over.”

  A flash flood of tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks to pool in the tremble of her smile. “Oh, Finn, truly?” she whispered, hardly able to believe that the only boy she’d ever wanted, wanted her too.

  “Truly.” Smile gentle, he carefully traced the shape of her mouth with fingers that burned like fire, tightening her chest with a need she’d never experienced before. His smile sobered once again. “The last time I touched you, Libby, I took something that didn’t belong to me, and I want you to know that I’m sorry.” He wisped a gentle palm over her hair, his Adam’s apple jerking hard in his throat. “But I think you should know, Miss O’Shea, that I want to kiss you right now more than I have ever wanted to kiss any woman before …” Gaze locked with hers, he leaned in ever so slowly, halting barely a whisper away, as if intent upon giving her every chance to say no.

  Problem was—she didn’t want to say no. Because the feelings Finn McShane unleashed in her were too strong, too real, too much of what she’d longed for since she’d first met him so many years ago.

  But could she trust him? Her heart stuttered in her chest.

  “Libby.” His breath tingled her skin, cherry-pie sweet and as ragged as hers. “I’m going to kiss you now, so if that’s not what you want, then please—just push me away.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Please, Libby … don’t push me away …

  Both his pulse and time stood still while he awaited her answer, forgetting to breathe as he watched roiling clouds of uncertainty deepen the green of her eyes. Then in a flick of her gaze to his lips and back, he sensed her consent, and tucking an arm to her waist, he slowly drew her onto his bale, closing the distance to caress her lips with his own. A lifetime of craving this girl flashed through his body like a desert heat wave, and swallowing a low groan, he molded his mouth to hers with an ache
so real, he knew she was the only cure. “Libby,” he whispered, pulling away to cradle her head in his hands, “I have feelings for you that go way beyond friendship or festivals, so please tell me we can start over and see where this goes.”

  She blinked several times, almost as if to clear the haze from her eyes, and his heart screeched to a stop. But when he saw the sweet curve of her beautiful mouth, his pulse took off in a sprint, unleashing a grin on his face he swore stretched ear to ear. “Please tell me that’s a yes, Miss O’Shea, because if not, I’ll have to resign as co-chair since keeping my distance will be impossible to do.”

  She nibbled the edge of her lips with an innocent smile, and it took everything in him not to join her, nibbling and tasting that mouth that forever invaded his thoughts. Her eyes fairly glowed as she gave him a brief nod, and there was no way he could stop the hoarse moan that scraped past his throat when he kissed her again. Sweet thunder, he was barely able to believe that he and Liberty O’Shea were on speaking terms, much less kissing like this, the heady taste of her all but melting his spurs.

  Like you and Jo Beth?

  Finn froze, the warmth of Libby’s body against his sending an avalanche of guilt sliding right down his back, icier than the Sierras in a Nevada snowstorm. Another groan rose in his throat, but this one was because he knew he had no business taking liberties with Libby. Not when he’d been seeing mainly Jo Beth, no matter how casually or infrequent, giving into Milo’s relentless prodding that Finn needed some fun in his life. True, Jo Beth wasn’t the only girl he spent time with, but as Milo’s girlfriend’s best friend, she was the one Finn saw and liked the most.

  And kissed the most?

  Finn winced inwardly at the prick of his conscience. Innocent kisses with Jo Beth or any other girl had never bothered him before, but suddenly kissing Libby made them seem downright wrong. Because Libby deserved better. Shame warmed the back of his neck.

  And so did Jo Beth.

  He’d always prided himself on steering clear of marriage, making good and sure women knew he had no intention of courting till his land was paid off and his homestead built and settled. But looking at Libby right now—half-lidded eyes, swollen mouth, and shallow breathing from parted lips that were calling him home—he knew his days of bachelorhood were about to be cut off at the pass. With a gentle grip of her arms, he held her at bay, painfully aware that she deserved far more than a man who flirted and kissed other women, and by the grace of God, he would give it to her.

  Fidelity. Marriage. And babies galore ...

  But first he needed to end it with Jo Beth, then give it some time to ease Jo’s ruffled feathers.

  And pay off your loan?

  Finn’s jaw tightened along with his conscience, wishing he’d broken it off with Jo Beth like he’d wanted to when rumors started to fly that he was her beau. And he would have if Milo hadn’t badgered him into seeing Jo Beth more often so the four of them could be “friends” who were social together and just had a little fun.

  Finn stifled a grunt. A “little fun,” right. Only “friends” didn’t tempt and tease with kisses like Jo Beth always did, no matter how many times he told her he had no plans to get married. But he was a man, for pity’s sake, and one used to enjoying the affections of women before the Poppys had convinced him to curb his ways. And now he’d boxed himself in but good, putting so many things at risk.

  Jo Beth.

  Her father.

  A loan that was almost paid off.

  And Liberty …

  A knot of conviction hitched in his throat. “Libby,” he whispered, cupping her face while his thumbs glided the soft silk of her skin, “please forgive me for taking advantage of the way I feel about you, all alone up here in this loft. But I never dreamed I’d ever have a chance with you, Libs, so I guess I kind of”—he scrubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin quickly tempered by guilt—“got carried away. But now that I know you feel the same way, I’d like to take it real slow to ward off any speculation about your reputation or mine, as co-chairs of a committee smack dab in the public eye.” He battled a gulp, downright impressed with his willpower to not devour her all over again. “Do you … understand?”

  She blinked several times as if she didn’t while that creamy throat convulsed with a nervous bob, and he wished more than anything he could just kiss all her hesitation away. But he owed her more than kisses.

  He owed her the truth.

  Or at least most of it.

  A tiny crimp appeared above her nose. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘real slow,’ Finn …”

  He skimmed a hand down that silky copper hair he’d longed to touch for too many years, fingers tingling like his heart for this girl he so wanted to make his own. “What I mean, Libby, is as co-chairs, I think we have a responsibility to be professional. And trust me, Miss O’Shea,” he said with a crooked smile he hoped would help diminish the confusion in her eyes, “my feelings for you are anything but.”

  A silent sigh of relief leached out when a soft blush bloomed on her face, tipping that glorious mouth into the sweetest of smiles. “That said,” he continued in what he hoped was a more “professional” tone, “I’d like to wait until a little while after the festival to start seeing you publicly if that’s all right.”

  “All … right,” she said in a near whisper, the flick of her gaze to his mouth all but giving him heatstroke. “But does that mean privately too?” Her teeth nipped at those pink lips like he so longed to do while her shy smile pumped more blood through his veins.

  With a gruff clear of his throat, he quickly lifted her at the waist and plopped her safely on her own bale of hay, pretty darn sure that if he didn’t distance himself right now, he’d be in a whole heap of trouble. “Libby, there’s something I need to tell you.” He shot to his feet and started pacing, gouging the hair at the back of his head. “Before we walked into this barn, I had absolutely no hope whatsoever that my long-held dream of courting you was even a remote possibility, so when we”—his Adam’s apple jerked hard as he halted to face her head-on—“kissed just now, well I … I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”

  She rose and took a step forward, the affection in her eyes warming him to the core. “I’m not. I’ve felt the same way about you forever, Finn, so I’m glad the truth has finally come out.”

  The truth.

  “Libby …” Clearing his throat again, he retreated another step. “There’s something else you need to know.” He plunged his hands in his pockets, ill at ease for the first time ever with a girl. “As you know, I’ve been seeing Jo Beth here and there …”

  “Here and there?” A tiny pucker popped above her nose. “Are you … courting her, Finn?”

  Heat singed his collar when he thought of all the kisses he and Jo Beth had shared, something most women tended to construe as commitment. Particularly when she was the one he stepped out with the most. “No, no … nothing like that,” he was quick to respond, a niggle of concern that both Jo Beth and her father might see it differently. “I mean I like her, I do, but it’s just that we’ve gone out a lot because of Milo, since she’s Bettie’s best friend and all, so some folks have assumed we’re a couple.” He coughed. Especially Jo Beth and her parents. “So what I’m saying is I’d like a chance to spare her feelings if I can.” He buried his fists in his pockets once again with an awkward lift of his shoulders. “You know, give it some time for things to cool off before you and I start seeing each other that way, just to let her down easy.”

  She blinked, those green eyes softening to the color of new buds in early May. “I think that’s very noble, Finn,” she said quietly, the glow of admiration in her gaze making him feel the farthest thing from noble.

  He swallowed a gulp, throat dry as dust. “Yeah, well, the thing is, Libs, I sorta promised I’d help Jo Beth celebrate her birthday on the day of the festival, if you know what I mean …”

  She blinked again, her expression indicating she didn’t.
<
br />   He clawed at the back of his head, sucking in more air to try and make it perfectly clear. “So I don’t feel right breaking it off before then, which means it could be a while before you and I can, you know”—he wagged a finger between them—“step out together for all the town to see. So is that”—his Adam’s apple did another jog—“acceptable to you?”

  “More than acceptable, Finn,” she said far too quickly for his ego. “Whatever you need to do is perfectly fine with me, truly, so please take your time.”

  Take my time? It was Finn’s turn to blink. She doesn’t mind? Not even a little? “Uh … all right, if you’re sure you won’t be jealous or anything—”

  She was shaking her head before he could even finish the sentence. “Absolutely not,” she assured him with a bright smile. “Not even a little.”

  “Good … good.” He plunged his hands back in his pockets, not all that sure it was good, at least not with a girl who’d seldom shown an iota of interest till today. It was his experience that if a girl truly cared, she’d be green-eyed over any other woman. Shaking off a sliver of hurt, Finn expelled a noisy sigh. “All righty, then, Libs. Let’s promise to keep this just between you and me till then. And I mean nobody else can know—not Kitty or Martha, Milo, or even Mr. and Mrs. Poppy, agreed?”

  “I think that would be wise,” she said with a lift of her chin. “For Jo Beth’s sake.”

  Yeah. He tugged at his collar, desperate for more air. And it wouldn’t hurt my loan either. Forcing a lopsided smile, he needed to make good and sure she understood he’d be treating her no differently than in the past in order to avoid any speculation about the two of them. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he held out his arm, one edge of his smile jagging high. “Which means we’ll revert to our prior enmity in public, Miss Bell, just to make good and sure nobody suspects a thing, agreed?”