My Heart's Desire

by Wendy Lindstrom

  Iris put her arm around Faith’s shoulders. “Honey, I think half your nerves come from being attracted to him,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle.

  Faith’s face heated. Had she been that transparent? What woman wouldn’t be attracted to a man like Sheriff Grayson? Duke Grayson.

  “If I were in your shoes I would savor every minute of that man’s attention,” Iris continued. “And I’d do my best to get him to marry me. The alternative to marrying the sheriff could be far less desirable, you know.”

  “I know.” She only had to think of the men who had frequented the brothel or called at her greenhouse.

  “Courting him doesn’t mean you have to marry him,” Iris continued. “But it could make him more accepting of our business, and help establish us in the community.”

  Faith tossed her apron into the crate on the floor. “It could help immensely to be in the sheriff’s favor. But our hopes could also come crashing down on our heads if he has a change of heart.”

  “Then don’t let him have a change of heart.”

  Faith looked to Aster, the honorary mother of their misfit family. “What do you think?”

  “I think he’s the one man who can protect us,” she said quietly. “If we need him to.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Night had fallen by the time Duke entered the earthy-smelling greenhouse. A lantern burned on the counter in the front of the building, and another shone from the stone room in the back where he found Faith waiting for him beside the tub. She stood as he entered the room, and dazzled him with a smile.

  “My answer is yes,” she said.

  Her smile and her words stunned him. Was she saying yes to him? To courting? He’d been prepared to hear the word no. Or to have her avoid his question altogether. “Yes?” he asked, needing her confirmation.

  She clasped her hands in front of her hips, her beautiful smile wobbling. “If you still desire to court me, I’d... I would be honored to accept your suit.”

  If he still desired her? He laughed. “Yes, I still want to court you.”

  “Then I shall call you Duke in private.”

  “That’s considerable progress from this morning.”

  Her lashes swept down to conceal her eyes.

  He watched her changing facial expressions with appreciation. She looked nervous and embarrassed and, if he wasn’t mistaking the tiny tremor in her chin, a little scared.

  “Faith?”

  She raised her lashes.

  “I’m glad you said yes. But if you’re not sure, if you have any reservations—”

  “None, Sheriff.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean Duke.”

  “I can change my name if you don’t care for it.”

  A breathy laugh sailed past her lips. “You have a fine, strong name,” she said with sincerity. “It’s just awkward for me to be so... intimate with you.”

  “Maybe this will help us get better acquainted.” He brushed his lips across hers to seal their agreement. “I’m honored to be your suitor.”

  Her lashes swooped down like a shield. Did she know that her emotions shone in her eyes? Was this a habit of hers to hide her thoughts? And why the need to hide them?

  He eased away. “Why do you do that?” he asked quietly.

  “Do what?” She whisked her gaze to his face.

  “You hide your eyes from me.”

  “I don’t,” she said, but down went her lashes.

  “You wield your eyelashes like a woman wields her fan. You give me a glimpse of your beauty then steal it away in the next second. A glimpse here, a peek there. It’s an art for sure, but I’d rather see what’s in your eyes…and your heart.”

  Down went her lashes again, the black crescents emphasizing her pink cheeks.

  “There you go again, peeking and hiding.”

  “Oh, my.” She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “What a dreadful habit.”

  There was an endearing quality to her shyness, but it would drive him crazy to forever witness her emotions in snatches and glimpses. “Your husband never mentioned this to you?”

  She lowered her hands and averted her face. “He was away frequently.”

  “Why? That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”

  She dipped her fingers into the tub. “His father was a planter. My husband took their plants to the market, which required him to be away much of the time. The water temperature feels fine now. I would recommend another soak before we try to stretch your muscles.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  Her hand went still in the water. “We didn’t have a close relationship,” she admitted softly.

  “Then I can only believe the man was a fool.”

  “I was the fool.” She turned and looked straight into his eyes for the first time. “Thank you for that wonderful meal you had delivered this evening. I’ve never received such a thoughtful or meaningful gift.”

  Until today, he’d never given one. He’d given plenty of fancy and expensive gifts to women, but never something as simple or valued as a good meal. “Faith, I couldn’t have made it through the day without the treatment you gave me this morning. Thank you for your kindness.”

  Down went her lashes yet again, but they flashed up an instant later, as if she realized she was indulging her habit. “You should get in the bath now.”

  He nodded and waited for her to leave the room before he undressed. After shucking his clothes, he washed up and then wrapped his hips in a towel. He sat on the edge of the tub and dunked his foot into the water. He wasn’t committing until he tested the temperature.

  The water felt comfortably warm, so he pushed off the edge of the tub and submerged himself completely. Underwater, he stretched out. His left shoulder screamed with pain as he forced his arm away from his side, but he couldn’t raise his fist higher than his neck. Although he had to tuck his body slightly he was able to roll in the water like one of the logs they cleaned in the gorge behind the sawmill. The heated, scented liquid swirled around his aching body. He could do without the herbs and oils, but the water felt good. As the tension in his back eased, he released his breath and sank to the bottom of the tub. When he broke the surface, Faith was standing beside the tub, smiling.

  “Cora loves playing in the water too.”

  He slicked his hair back one-handed. “I need to own this tub.”

  “That’s why I bought the place,” she said. “I wanted to buy Mr. Colburn’s house across the street, too, but I couldn’t afford it.”

  “I thought it was odd that his house was still for sale.”

  “I’m hoping it stays that way until I can afford to buy it. Of course, that will be five or ten years from now…or maybe never.” She sighed and handed him the metal stool. “I brought you some tea,” she said, and waited while he tucked the stool beneath him.

  “Thank you,” he said, accepting the cup.

  She moved to the door. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Do you have to go?” He held the cup near his dripping chin. “If you can spare the time, I’d appreciate the company.”

  Her answer was to sit on the massage table and fold her hands in her lap.

  “Thank you,” he said. He sipped the hot tea then rested the cup on the edge of the tub. “I’m glad you could see me tonight. I’m taking Covey to Mayville tomorrow, and won’t be back for a week.”

  “I’ve not heard of Mayville, but it must be far from here if you’ll be away so long.”

  “Just under twenty-five miles. I have a meeting there, and I make several stops along the way to check in with my undersheriff and our deputies.”

  “I thought Sam Wade was your deputy.”

  “He’s my only paid deputy. My other deputies are men who volunteer to act in a legal capacity for their towns. They handle small issues and wire when they need me. Otherwise, I visit them every couple of months.”

  “Sounds like you spend a lot of time out of town.”

  “Not really” He filled
his mouth with tea and studied her as he swallowed. “Did it bother you that your husband spent so much time away?”

  “No.” Her lashes twitched, but amazingly she didn’t hide her eyes. “I stayed with my mother and my aunts.”

  “Where was your father?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked down and fiddled with the linens beside her. “Mama said he ran off after I was born and only came back long enough to sire Adam. After that, he disappeared and broke my mother’s heart.”

  “Is this one of those stories like your aunts invent?” he asked, feeling as skeptical of this story as he’d been of Dahlia’s outlandish tale.

  “Adam and I share the same father, although we’ve never met the man. I suspect he’s in prison, but my mother never talked about him. That’s the truth.”

  He finished his tea, and set the cup on the stand. “What was your mother like?”

  She sighed and shifted her gaze to the stone wall behind his head. “In a word, she was sad. My aunts could make her laugh, but her eyes were always filled with heartache. The only time she seemed at peace was when she tended her roses. She loved them and planted them all around our house. You could smell roses in the air all summer.” Her gaze dropped to his. “In the winter, she wore rose perfume and planted rosebush clippings in our greenhouse.”

  “Was Rose a name she gave herself?” he asked, wanting to know more about the woman.

  “Her name was Celia Rose, and she was as beautiful as the roses she grew.”

  “I wish she was still here for you,” he said quietly, knowing Faith’s pain would ebb but never leave completely.

  She acknowledged his comment with a small nod, but the sadness in her face made him want to hold her against his chest and comfort her. Not that he’d be able to restrict himself to that noble impulse for more than a minute, but he’d try.

  “I lost my father thirteen years ago to a disease that sucked the life out of him.” Duke could usually talk about his father, but not about his death, which was why it surprised him that he was confessing to Faith. “When I was a boy, my dad was strong and had a laugh that filled the house. By the time I turned seventeen, he couldn’t even feed himself. He died before I turned eighteen.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How awful for you and your family.”

  They fell silent and he searched her eyes for whatever she was hiding from him. Maybe it was only heartache.

  “It’s growing late.” She stood and shook open a large towel. “We should treat your shoulder now.”

  Did she know it was too painful for him to converse during his treatment? Is that why she was standing beside the tub with a towel in her arms? He wanted to linger in the bath and talk to her, but her drawn face and dark eyes suggested she needed sleep.

  He stood and took the towel she handed to him, but purposely caught her hands in the folds of soft cotton. Standing in the tub made him several inches taller than her. “Why don’t we skip my treatment tonight? I’ll leave so you can enjoy the bath before going to bed.”

  She gazed up at him, her eyes startled and uncertain. “You need your treatment.”

  “I’ll stretch when I get home,” he said.

  “It won’t be enough.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  She smiled. “Get out of the tub, Sheriff. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  “I thought you were going to call me Duke.”

  Her lashes swooped down then back up, her gaze clashing with his. “Get out of the tub, Duke.”

  Warmth filled his chest and it stunned him to realize how quickly he was falling for Faith.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

  Adam kicked a round stone the size of a plum ahead of him as he walked down Liberty Street toward the small school in Laona. He didn’t know why he had to go school. There were only two weeks left. At breakfast, Faith had said the sheriff would be out of town this week, so the man wouldn’t even be around to check up on him.

  He batted the stone with the side of his foot. It was stupid to go for the last two weeks. If he wouldn’t fit in at the beginning of the year, how was he supposed to fit in now? The children would stare at him, and whisper about him like they had when he’d tried to go to school in Syracuse.

  He kicked the rock so hard it ricocheted off the stone fence guarding somebody’s front yard.

  “Adam?”

  He jerked his head up to see Rebecca Grayson sitting on the fence.

  “Good morning,” she said, sliding off the pile of stones and walking toward him. “Are you heading to school?”

  He nodded, not trusting his changing voice to stay steady while his heart banged around in his chest. Did she live in that huge house? Did those horses in the paddock behind the barn belong to her family?

  “Can we walk with you?” she asked.

  He had no idea who “we” were, but he nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  Rebecca turned toward the house. “Hurry up, William, or I’m leaving without you!” she yelled.

  A boy about half Adam’s age pounded down the porch steps then raced across the yard. “Beat you there!” he said, and raced down the rutted road ahead of them.

  “William, you better watch you don’t get run over by Mr. Carlson’s wagon,” Rebecca shouted at his back, but the boy didn’t appear to hear as he ran toward the oncoming hay wagon.

  “Want me to get him for you?” Adam asked, knowing he could run the boy down.

  “No, my brother will just pester us to death if he walks with us. Besides, he knows I can catch him if I want to.” She flashed a sweet smile that made Adam’s stomach light. She angled the toe of her shoe behind the stone he’d been kicking and rolled it ahead of them. “Come on. We can’t be late or Mr. MacEnroy will switch us.”

  No man would switch Rebecca while Adam was around, but he wasn’t daring enough to tell her that. He followed her down the street and gave the stone a solid kick.

  Rebecca skipped ahead and kicked it several feet. “My mother says you live with your sister.” she said.

  He nodded, wishing his voice wasn’t so wobbly that it terrified him to talk.

  She waited for him to catch up. “Don’t you have a mother and father?” she asked.

  He shook his head, surprised that her question didn’t offend him. It didn’t feel like she was being nosy or judging him. “I didn’t know my father. My mother died six weeks ago.” The less he said, the less it hurt, and the less chance that his voice would squawk.

  “I’m sorry, Adam. My dad says I’m too curious and I ask too many questions sometimes.”

  The unexpected kindness in her eyes made his throat ache. He hadn’t talked to anyone about his mother. Faith had always been the one to take care of him. His mother had been more like a grandmother to him, like she was with Cora. He lowered his chin and kicked the stone. “It’s all right. My sister is more like my mother anyhow.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m glad you’re going to my school,” Rebecca said, scampering along beside him to bat at the stone. “We can walk together if you want.”

  “Sure.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, and took his turn kicking the stone ahead of them. Maybe going to school wouldn’t be all bad.

  While he and Rebecca took turns kicking the stone, he stole quick looks at her. Her shiny black hair bounced against her back in long, loose spirals that hung to her waist. Her eyebrows were black as coal, and her dimples flashed when she smiled at him, which was nearly every time he looked up. He liked her dimples and her smile, but he liked the friendliness in her eyes even better.

  “Oh, no,” she said, slowing to a standstill in the road. He looked up and followed her gaze to where several children gathered in front of a white schoolhouse. “Melissa Archer just waved to us.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “She’s a worse gossip than her mother,
and she’s mean to William and the younger children.

  “Why?”

  “Because she can get away with it.” With a sigh, Rebecca kicked the stone to the side of the road. “Let’s leave it here so we can kick it on the way home. Come on. We’ll try to sneak past her,” she said, and then caught his elbow and tugged him into the school yard.

  Adam would rather wait for the bell to ring and dash inside to the first empty chair he could find. But he would walk through fire before letting Rebecca know he was afraid.

  “Rebecca!” Melissa Archer caught Rebecca’s arm and stopped them. “You nearly walked right past me.”

  “Sorry, Melissa. I was talking with my new friend Adam Dearborn,” she said, making Adam sound as important as President Hayes. Rebecca introduced him to the girl and her brother Nicholas, both husky children about his own age with wheat blond hair.

  He nodded to them, but when Melissa extended her hand as if she were a fine lady and he her suitor, Adam didn’t know whether to kiss it, shake it, or laugh in her haughty little face.

  Rebecca whacked Melissa’s hand down. “For Pete’s sake, just say hello.”

  Melissa’s face turned as pink as the ribbon in her blond hair, and she jutted out her chin. “I was just going to welcome you to school and tell you that there’s an empty seat at my desk if you want to sit with me.”

  Adam’s heart plummeted. He wanted to sit with Rebecca.

  “He’s going to sit with me,” Rebecca said, causing Melissa to glare at her, and Nicholas to scowl at him.

  Nicholas Archer outweighed Adam by at least thirty pounds, and Adam had no desire to test the strength of Nicholas’s hefty arms. The boys in his old neighborhood had given him a healthy respect for big muscles and hard knuckles.

  Melissa lifted her nose and turned away as if Rebecca didn’t exist. “I’m the best student in my grade,” she said to Adam. “Mr. MacEnroy will favor you if you sit with me.”