by Karen Kirst
The conversation across from them had ceased. Jessica blushed when she realized the others were observing them with keen interest. Juliana and Evan, their chairs pulled close together, were flanked by Will and Caleb.
“Grant’s right.” Will spoke with a full mouth. “You don’t have the reputation as the nice O’Malley sister.”
Jessica’s jaw sagged. “Are you serious? After all the cake and pie I’ve plied you with?”
He laughed, and Caleb joined in. A shame his wife, Rebecca, couldn’t come. Baby Noah had a cough, and they didn’t think it wise for him to travel.
Juliana stuck up for her. Sort of. “Jessica can be accommodating when she puts a mind to.”
“I’m beginning to feel offended.”
Grant remained silent beside her, absorbing every word, looking entertained.
Caleb leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Juliana, tell Parker about Jessica and old man Brantley.”
Juliana obliged, recounting how, as a determined nine-year-old, Jessica had insisted on visiting Zeb Brantley every day for a month. Believing his grumpy attitude stemmed from loneliness, she’d taken her fiddle and played for him.
“Alice mentioned you haven’t played in a long time,” Grant said, perplexed. “Why did you stop?”
“I don’t know. Too busy, I guess.”
He studied her, clearly not buying her excuse. She slid her glance away.
“At that point in time, she’d only just started to learn to play.” Juliana smiled, green eyes twinkling. “She wasn’t what you’d call talented.”
Caleb guffawed. “It sounded like a cat screeching for its mate.”
Will winced. “Poor Zeb.”
“So I’m guessing his mood didn’t improve?” Grant’s gaze locked with hers. Humor mingled with admiration.
Her stomach did a little flip. “After a month, he finally asked me to leave the fiddle at home and read to him instead.”
“She visited him once or twice a week for over a year,” Juliana said, the fondness in her tone unmistakable.
“And then he died.” A lump formed in her throat. It had been ages since she’d thought of the gentle man who’d been like a substitute grandfather.
“Do you remember that bird she saved?” Caleb broke the silence. “Its wing was broken, right?”
Juliana launched into another story of Jessica’s antics. Grant lapped it all up. By the time they’d finished supper, she was sick to death of hearing about herself.
“Stop.” She dumped out her cold coffee. “I think you’ve entertained Grant with enough stories to last a lifetime.”
“I’m not bored,” he protested.
“I am.”
“Then let’s play some music.”
“What are you talking about?”
“While packing the guitar, I grabbed your fiddle on a whim. I knew we’d have some free time on our hands, and what goes better with a warm fire on a cool night than music?”
“That was presumptuous of you.”
“Yes, it was,” he agreed without apology. “But I don’t remember playing with anyone else, and I’d like to see how well it works.”
“Come on, cuz,” Caleb drawled, depositing his empty plate in the grass beneath his chair. “Just a few songs.”
The others waited for her decision. Her twin maintained that Jessica had been blessed with courage and boldness. Jane had aspired to those attributes, and that was why she’d decided to investigate Lee herself. Since his death, Jessica hadn’t felt brave. She’d retreated inside her dreadful isolation. She’d allowed her circumstances to steal joy from her life. Steal her love of music and the comfort she derived from it.
“I’m rusty,” she warned.
A slow, triumphant grin curved his mouth. “I have no memories of playing before waking up on your property, so we’re even.”
Striding to his tent, he retrieved their instruments, a new energy humming in him. Matching anticipation leaped to life inside Jessica, and her fingers itched to hold her bow again. To draw it across the strings and wait for the resulting notes to blend in a familiar tune.
Grant handed her the case with a flourish. Settling beside her, he took out her pa’s guitar and situated it on his lap. From Juliana’s expression, Jessica knew her sister had recognized it.
Perceptive as always, Grant paused and directed his comment to Juliana. “If this is awkward for you, I won’t play.”
At Evan’s questioning glance, Juliana explained. To Grant, she said, “I’m glad it’s being put to use. Pa would be, too.”
Evan urged her close to his side and pressed a kiss against her temple. Smiling, Juliana snuggled in close and splayed her hand on his chest, the wedding band on her left hand winking. Caleb sat sprawled in his chair, legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Will pulled a blade of grass through his teeth, knees bouncing.
Nodding reverently, Grant strummed a few notes while Jessica readied her instrument. She held the fiddle across her lap like a guitar and carefully plucked each string. Hearing that they were in tune, she picked up the rosin cake and rubbed it over the bow hair so that it would better grip the strings.
“What do you want to try first?” he asked.
“Do you know any hymns?”
“How about ‘Amazing Grace’?”
It took them a few minutes to find their stride. He was patient, strumming softly, allowing her to reacquaint herself with her fiddle and the movements. The familiar notes came flooding back, as did the rush of contentment, and she found herself smiling like a fool. They concentrated on hymns at first, switching to folk songs later. Grant played in a way that allowed her to shine, showcasing her instrument’s capabilities. For their last song, she chose one that would put the emphasis on his abilities. There were several spots where she’d lift her bow from the strings and pluck them softly as he continued to play. As they played together, an unexplainable emotional connection wove through the music and joined them in complete harmony.
When they’d finished, and not only their group but the surrounding campers were clapping and whistling, Grant’s eyes shone with pleasure. Jessica laughed a little, her own spirits zinging with delight.
“What a treat,” Juliana exclaimed. “I hope you’ll play again before we leave.”
Grant looked to Jessica, a hint of vulnerability in him. “I’d like that.”
Jessica nodded, her heart dangerously soft and impressionable. “Me, too.” When Juliana started stacking the soiled dishes, Jessica put out a hand. “I’ll take care of those.”
“We can do it together.”
“No. You and Evan are rarely alone. Take advantage of your time together. Go take a stroll.”
Disquiet flared briefly in Juliana’s eyes before Evan caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Jess is right. You deserve a break.” Motioning to the tree line, he said, “Let’s walk.”
Her manner only slightly subdued, Juliana agreed. Jessica watched the pair weave their way through the throng, confusion surging. It appeared something was bothering her sister. But what?
Grant returned from his tent then, scattering her thoughts. “I’ll take the basin.”
She resisted. “It’s heavy.”
“That’s why I’m going to carry it.”
“And what about your wound?” She pitched her voice low, positive he didn’t want his physical condition discussed in front of the others.
His stare was unwavering. “It’s fine.”
All too familiar with his obstinate nature, she allowed him to take it, gathering wash towels, soap and a lantern. They weren’t the first ones at the stream. The points of light up and down the hillside were an enchanting sight, as was the trickling water glittering like golden fireworks.
They found a semiprivate spot and got to work.
“You’re one fortunate lady, you know that?” He swiped a towel over the dish she’d scrubbed clean. “You’ve got roots. Stories to remind you of how you became t
he person you are today.”
Jessica hadn’t taken stock of God’s blessings in her life. She’d been too busy concentrating on the negatives. Once again, Grant’s presence had pointed to a deficiency in her life. I’m sorry, God. Help me appreciate all the ways You provide and care for me.
The soap slippery in her hand, she paused to study Grant’s profile. And please, Father, help him. Guide him to the answers he deserves.
*
Shortly before dawn, Jessica was startled awake. She stared at the canvas ceiling and blinked the bleariness from her vision. Objects in her tent gradually took shape in the lingering gloom. She lay still, the air cool on her face, her ears straining for clues. But there was nothing beyond the usual hushed forest sounds.
Crawling from beneath her covers, she lifted the flaps and peered out. If there was a bear out there scavenging for food, she needed to know about it. Being surprised in her bed by a wild animal wasn’t how she meant to pass the weekend. In the midst of their tent circle, the fire’s disintegrating logs glowed orange. High above the tree canopy, countless stars winked in the inky expanse.
A guttural cry shredded the hush blanketing the campers. Jessica’s head whipped to the right. That had come from Grant’s tent, situated several feet from hers. Will’s was on her left side. Caleb’s beside his. Evan and Juliana were sleeping opposite, yards away from the fire.
It came again, followed this time by an emphatic, slightly frantic “No.” There was no discernible movement inside. He’s dreaming.
Pulling her housecoat lapels together at the throat, she didn’t stop to put on boots before hurrying over. The dew-moistened grass soaked through her stockings. Crouching at the opening, she hesitated, darting a quick glance around. The assumptions folks would make about this had her heart knocking furiously against her rib cage.
She couldn’t go inside. What would Grant think if he woke to find her in his tent, hovering over him in the dead of night? Her mouth went dry. Lifting the flaps, she squinted into the darkness, feeling as if she were invading his privacy. He tossed and turned on the pallet. More indecipherable words slipped out. Snagging his ankle, she jostled it.
“Grant,” she hissed. “Wake up.”
He didn’t respond. Balancing her weight on one hand, she leaned farther in and shook harder. “Grant!”
“Huh—” He bolted to sitting, his forehead ramming into hers.
“Ouch!” Pain registered as hands clamped onto her shoulders.
“Jessica?” His voice was like a gunshot in the dark stillness. She covered his mouth.
“Shh!” she whisper-shouted. “You don’t want to wake the entire camp, do you?”
He went very still. She became aware of several things at once. His undershirt-clad chest rising and falling. The weight and warmth of his hands. His spruce and leather scent permeating the space. And his face, wreathed in shadows, was but a breath away. Against her palm, his lips were incredibly soft.
Slowly, reluctantly, she let it fall to her lap.
“Why are you here?” His sleep-ravaged voice sounded almost angry.
“You were dreaming. Not the good kind.”
“What?”
Suddenly, being this close to him wasn’t such a good idea. “I’ll explain out there.”
Scrambling backward, she stood and hugged her housecoat more tightly about her.
He emerged a minute later and loomed close. “What’s going on?”
“I was dead asleep when I awoke to the sound of you talking in your sleep, so I came to check on you.”
Rubbing a weary hand over his face, he sighed. “You should’ve let me sleep. It would’ve passed.”
Face-to-face with him in the predawn hours, she felt a trifle silly. Perhaps he was right.
“What were you dreaming about?”
“The same dream I’ve had for three nights straight.”
“Did you remember something?”
“I didn’t want to tell you. I’ve no clue who the man is or what it means.”
“What man?” She stepped forward, accidentally landing on his foot. Also shoeless. “Sorry.”
“In my dream, I’m struggling with a man. He lunges at me, and I grab him. We go down and then I wake up. I don’t recognize him, but I do know he’s angry with me.”
“Grant, this is good news. I think I have paper among my things. We have to record the details and take them to Shane. We can sketch his likeness and compare them to the jail’s wanted posters.”
He clutched her arm before she could retreat. “That can wait until after breakfast.”
“But it’s fresh in your mind. You might forget something important.”
“Go to bed before someone discovers us and assumes the worst. I can’t marry you, Jessica. Not even to save your reputation.”
Shock rendered her mute. Then irrational hurt filtered in. Ripping free of his hold, she jutted her chin. “Who said I’d marry you, anyway?”
“Jessica—” Exasperation riddled his tone.
“Good night, Grant.” Escaping to her tent, she slumped onto her pallet and buried her flaming face in the pillow. “Next time I’ll let you suffer through your nightmares alone.”
*
She was the most infuriating woman on the planet.
Scooping a handful of chestnuts from the ground, he dropped them into his sack and tried not to eavesdrop on her and Juliana’s conversation. Their group had moved higher up the mountainside after a cold breakfast of ham and biscuits. She’d rebuffed his efforts to speak in private. His comment had upset her, and she refused to let him explain.
Their predawn interaction dominated his thoughts. His defenses practically nonexistent, he’d come close to kissing her. Dangerously close, in fact. He’d yearned to pull her into his arms. Only by God’s grace had he found the strength to refrain.
If one of her family members had seen them, or one of the campers…they would’ve misinterpreted the innocent exchange.
A hand clamped onto his shoulder. “Something on your mind, Parker?”
Caleb’s gaze traveled a deliberate path to Jessica, indicating he’d picked up on her icy attitude.
“Plenty.”
Not that he was about to share any of it with her cousin. Like the sheriff, Caleb didn’t approve of his associating with her. Stooping lower to the ground, he pried a stubborn nut from its prickly burr.
Caleb joined him beneath the branches and got to work. “My youngest cousin can test a man’s patience. Jane’s a sweetheart. Jessica, on the other hand, possesses the will and stubbornness of an ox. Always has, always will.”
His casual assessment evoked a swift, defensive reaction in Grant. Swiping his sleeve across his sweaty brow, he turned to study her, the smile she gifted her sister tinged in sadness. He wished he could take away the hurt, but how?
“Nothing wrong with a spirited woman.” He speared Caleb with his gaze. “Personally I wouldn’t want one who catered to my every whim. Maybe you’re too close to see that Jessica can be sweet the same as her twin.”
The other man’s knowing smirk made Grant feel as if he’d been snared in a trap.
“Is that so?” Caleb drawled, brows lifting.
“No need to lecture me,” he retorted. “I’ve already gotten an earful from your good friend the sheriff.”
His dark eyes continued to study him. Grant held his gaze. At last, Caleb shrugged. “We don’t want to see her get hurt again.”
“She’s mentioned her former beau a time or two. How bad was he?”
Anger shimmered around Caleb and, with that wicked scar, he looked deadly. “The worst kind of manipulator. She’s convinced he loved her, but his actions proved otherwise.”
Both men stopped what they were doing when a pair of young girls approached the women. The smaller one with brown curls and a shy smile handed Jessica a piece of paper. Grant’s lungs seized as Jessica’s face brightened with pleasure. She was breathtaking. And very, very sweet.
Bending to
hug the girl, Jessica’s eyes met his and darkened to twin pools of forest green. For an instant before she schooled her features, she looked young and vulnerable. He shared in Caleb’s anger, wishing this Lee person was around so that he could show him what he thought about his treatment of her.
“What happened between them? What exactly did Lee do to her?”
“She’d be livid if I told you. If you haven’t noticed, my cousin is the private sort. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
He wasn’t certain she’d ever be ready, that she’d ever trust him enough to bare her heart. The knowledge cut deep. He was getting in way over his head. Jessica would never be his to love or protect, comfort or cherish.
If he was smart, he’d pack his bags and move on before it was too late.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’ve cornered you at last. Unless you plan on running again.”
Her hands submerged in the water, Jessica ignored Grant’s dig. No use denying she’d been avoiding him the entire day. While ridiculous, the humiliation she felt burned beneath her skin, as did the infuriating wish that he’d take her in his arms and profess his ardent admiration. Had she learned nothing from Lee?
Snatching up a towel, he sank onto the bank and began drying the clean dishes. Waning sunlight washed the mountain in a pinkish-yellow haze. A few yards away, a squirrel scampered between the trees.
“I don’t know about you, but I could sleep for a week.”
Against her better judgment, she spared him a glance. He looked as ruggedly appealing as ever, his skin slightly red from hours in the sun. “How’s your wound?”
“A little sore, is all.” His eyes were like a bright summer sky, trailing blissful heat across her face.
Nodding, she scrubbed the skillet’s surface. Weariness dogged her movements. Hopefully she’d sleep too soundly to hear anything that night, be it wild beast or man. There’d be no repeat of last night’s foolishness.
A cloud of gnats whirled on the opposite bank. She observed their progress into the forest.
“After this, what do you say we pull out that paper of yours and record what I remember about the man in my dream?”
“You don’t need me for that. I’ll give you the writing supplies once I’m done here.”