by Jillian Hart
“He’s already had a bad influence on you.” Joshua’s jaw was clenched so tight it was amazing he could squeeze out any words at all. “I intend to set this straight.”
“No, you will not. As far as I know, you two are the only ones who have realized Duncan’s history, or at least been mean enough to bring up a very painful event in his life. You will remain silent, both of you, and never tell another living soul. Because he is not the only one in this house with secrets.”
Joshua went pale. “What do you mean?”
“I have been washing your clothes for a long while now. And yours, too, Granny. It’s amazing what an innocent laundry lady comes across while checking the pockets of the garments before she washes them. All I’m going to say is this: if you want your secrets kept, then you’ll keep Duncan’s.”
“I have no secrets!” Joshua turned as red as a boiled beet.
“Oh, of course not. Let me just go tell Mama—”
“All right.” He stomped out, clearly not happy, pushing his way around the table to the refuge of the parlor’s hearth.
“I suppose you don’t have any secrets, either, right, Granny?”
Grandmother Gable took a long cool look at the big man who’d just came in from the cold. Duncan Hennessey was all man, handsome and strong and noble, and there was no mistaking it. Or the love that warmed his dark gaze when he looked upon his lady love.
“He’s at least good-looking,” Granny conceded. “A man is such trouble and a bane to a woman’s existence, he ought to at least be pleasing to the eye.”
“I’ll take that as a congratulations on my upcoming wedding. Thanks, Granny.” Betsy pressed a kiss to her tough old grandma’s cheek. “You’ll like him, once you get to know him. I promise.”
The old woman grumbled something beneath her breath and reached into her skirt pocket for her tobacco.
Duncan. His gaze collided with hers across the length of the kitchen, where kettles boiled and biscuits steamed and the gravy bubbled up, causing Mama to come rushing to the servant’s aid. James and his wife had arrived, and Jordan was ambling down the stairs, yawning and groggy from his nap, the lazy bum, and joy filled her up like water in a cup, spilling over and over without end.
She walked into Duncan’s arms, this man she would forever love, and wasn’t surprised at all to feel their hearts were beating in synchrony. They took in breath at the same moment.
“We’re going to live happily ever after now,” she told him. “All you have to do is believe.”
“I already do.” He took her hand and sealed his words with an everlasting kiss.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8387-3
ROCKY MOUNTAIN MAN
Copyright © 2005 by Jill Strickler
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