by Faye Sonja
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Epilogue
Six Months Later
Robert closed the book in front of him and looked down at the sleeping woman who sat on his lap; Eve. They were sitting out on the back porch. Lewis and Clark was running through fields playing a game of tag, while Mr. and Mrs. Manning were cuddled together in a rocking chair.
Robert looked at her deeply tanned skin; the dark lashes that fanned her cheeks, and the cute little beauty mark that sat just under her lips and thought her to be so beautiful. Her cheeks and lips were fuller than they had been; thanks to the pregnancy. Thinking about the baby made Robert rub a hand over her stomach. Only a few more months to go until the new addition to the family would make their presence known. Robert was looking forward to meeting him. Eve said it would be a girl, but Robert was sure it was a boy. Her stomach was too large for anything else. Of course, twins would be great as well, but Robert was too afraid to hope for that.
“Why’d you stop reading?” Eve’s eyes fluttered open. A smile crossed her face. “She stops kicking when you read.”
Robert returned the smile. “I’m sorry. I can continue if you want, but we are at the end.”
Eve sighed and settled further into his arms. “Please, finish it.”
Robert kicked a foot that started the chair in a slow and steady rock and then opened the book to where they’d left off. It was one of the fairytales that Eve’s father had written many years ago. Eve had given all the first editions to Robert for his birthday. She’d also put the company shares into both of their names, showing Robert once and for all that she trusted him. He kissed her head right before he began to read again. “The grass was cool underneath the young prince and Princess Evelyn. Up above her was the moon and the stars twinkling in the night sky. The frogs and creatures of the night made their calls and the wind blew all around her. Princess Evelyn closed her eyes and opened her mouth and said, ‘This was a grand adventure, but I cannot wait until the next.” But they did.
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DENIAL OF THE RESISTANT BRIDE
BRIDES OF HAINES PRESS
BOOK 2
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b o o k 2
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Clara Cain, a woman scorned, has been publishing under the false name C.C. Reed for years. Never did she imagine that a simple letter to a fan - a fan that was actually her best friend, would spark so many questions.
Joe Dawson wrote to C.C. Reed once, he finds himself more intrigued than ever about the mysterious C.C. Reed. Maybe this C.C. Reed will finally win his heart. Then Joe wouldn't have to pine over the woman he could never have - Clara.
Clara isn't sure what she should do. She can't be C.C. Reed and Clara at the same time! Will Clara finally find the strength to move past her fears and into Joe's loving arms?
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1
Chapter ONE
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“ Joe wasn’t waiting for a good woman. He
wasn’t waiting for anyone, but Clara Cain. ”
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Haines, Kansas
October 1923
Clara Cain’s black-heeled boots made a clapping sound across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the back of the general goods store. The sound echoed across the rather quiet store. Her stride was slow. She gripped a book with both hands, holding it over the lower portion of her face; hiding her smile.
Across from her stood Lily Dawson; Joe’s pretty little sister. The dirty blonde haired twenty-year-old looked up with wide eyes and an open mouth; her wooden broom paused in motion. Clara shook her head and instantly, the other woman’s mouth closed. Clara inclined her head, before walking further into the room. Lily smiled before resuming her task of cleaning before the morning rush.
Clara took a few steps further into the room and then turned right, down an aisle; spotting her target.
Joe Dawson was crouched down on the floor stacking licorice on the bottom shelf of the last aisle, making it readily available to the children that frequented the store. His back was turned, which made Clara’s dark ocean-colored eyes glitter. Perfect, she thought. Her footsteps slowed and then came to a stop once she’d reached him; the toes of her leather boots inches from the upturned soles of Joe’s loafers.
“Pow.”
Joe spun around. His green eyes were wide, his mouth parted. His blond hair, which he normally wore slicked back and parted to one side, became amess with the speed of his move; a lock of golden hair hanging by his eye. “It’s here?”
Clara’s smile grew in the hiding spot behind the forest green fabric binding of the book. She closed her eyes, dropped the smile, and then slowly slid the book away from her face. “Are you ready for an adventure, Joe Dawson?” she asked.
Joe’s face went from shock to a 98° sunny Kansas day in 0.2 seconds. It was like watching a flower bloom. His tan skin was in stark contrast to his white teeth; his lips tilted up more on the right side of his mouth; the perfect centerpiece for his strong jaw. His green eyes were a color unlike anything Clara had ever seen outside of a pure emerald gem. Clara’s heart flipped.
Joe stood and held his hand out.
Clara held out the book and then let the rough material slide across her fingers as it left her hands. Joe ran his own hand over the cover, as if the book held a genie that was ready to grant his every wish. “Jack Adams #13 by C.C. Reed.” His eyes came up and looked at Clara. He narrowed his eyes. “The book stores only carry the paper covers. How do you always manage to get a cotton cover when everyone else gets paper?”
Clara rolled her eyes. Because I’m C.C. Reed. “Because C.C. Reed writes for Haines Press, so I simply ask Eve for it.”
Joe shook his head, still running his large hand over the book’s binding. “I guess it’s a simple request to make when you’re the babysitter of the woman who publishes the book.”
Clara shrugged. Eve Haines, now Eve Manning, one of Clara’s best friends, was the owner of Haines Press. Together, she and her husband published Clara’s books, all the while keeping the secret of her true identity to themselves. Clara wasn’t really a nanny. Sure, she watched Eve’s children when they came home from school, but short of stopping the boys from killing themselves, that was about it. What Clara really did for money was her writings of the Jack Adams series, but only a handful of people knew that.
The world was not ready to know that C.C. Reed was in fact a woman. She wrote about hard crimes and dark mysteries, which were not considered to be of a woman’s genre. Women were only to write about love and happily ever after’s, but not Clara. Clara’s Jack Adams series dealt in the real world; a world lacking love. “I wanted a fabric cover, so I requested one. Ask and you shall receive.”
Joe nodded, then tossed his head to the right, gesturing for Clara to follow him. They went to the front of the store and took the two stools that were pushed to a corner behind the counter. The chairs had been placed there for this exact purpose; to be pulled out for the reading of the Jack Adams’ novel.
Joe positioned Clara’s chair by the counter and then went back for his own. He took a seat next to her and then slowly cracked open the book. He turned to Lily, who was still standing in the middle of the room with the broom her in hand. “Would you make some coffee?” The young girl nodded and then scurried away. Joe looked over at Clara. “Ready?”
Clara placed an elbow on top of the glass counter, and leaned her cheek into it. She gave Joe a nod and then listened to him as he read the first lines of the book; a book that had taken her six months to write.
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Joe didn’t stop reading when the first customers came in. He only glanced up, made sure they were people he knew, and then went back to the book. Haines, Kansas was like a big family for the most part. They knew not to
disturb Joe’s reading of a Jack Adams’ book unless they truly needed something. Sometimes, Joe would get so deep into the tale that people would start to hang around just to hear him read. He wouldn’t stop unless a customer approached the counter for service. At the moment, it was the young Amy Howard. “Hey, Joe.”
Joe smiled. “Hey, Amy.” He put the book on the counter, face down, and then pushed back his chair and reached under the counter. He pulled up a small box and put it on the counter.
Amy played with the end of the light brown braid that hung over the side of her shoulder. Her dark brown eyes fluttered. “Is that my order?”
“Sure is.” The order was already paid for, so he simply had Amy sign a receipt before handing it over to her. “It’s getting cold out there.”
Amy’s brown eyes went wide. “Uh, yeah.” She smiled, taking the box from his hands; her fingers brushing his. Her pale cheeks turned red. “Sorry.”
Joe smiled. “No harm done.”
Amy’s eyes flickered over to Clara. “Clara.”
Clara hadn’t moved. Her elbow still sat on the counter; a fist in her cheek. Her eyes were a strange mix of deep blues and greens. Depending on the light and her mood, they’d pick one color more than the over. Her short hair, a natural jet black, was done in finger waves that looked like a shiny dark river with ripples glistening in the moonlight. She looked over at Amy. “Hello.” Her voice was musical and deep.
Amy huffed out a breath as she smiled. “It’s almost like you’re always here, Clara.”
Clara’s smile crept slowly onto her face. “Must make it difficult for you to flirt with Joe, huh?”
Amy’s eyes widened. She looked at Joe and then back at Clara. “I’m not flirting!”
Joe shook his head. “Clara,” he warned.
Clara sighed and turned her eyes away from them both; looking out at the store and giving Joe and Amy the perfect view of her profile. An upturned nose, long black lashes, small chin, and unblemished skin, the color of warm milk.
Joe looked around and saw a few customers floating around the store. There was talking a second ago, but now everyone was silent; even motionless. The seconds went by as the customers stared at the random items on the shelves, but probably not seeing a thing; just waiting for whatever would happen next.
Amy cleared her throat. “Joe, I was wondering if you’d come and help put up some stage props at the theatre for the rehearsal of the winter musical this year,” she spoke quickly. “Jimmy was going to do it for us, but he’s caught something and is sick at the moment. Could you step in?” Her voice had started out shaky, but had grown stronger toward the end.
Joe sighed, letting out the breath he’d been holding. The women had decided to drop the other subject. The winter musical was a Haines, Kansas tradition. The city was known for its artistic talents. This year’s play would be Pygmalion, by George Bernard Shaw. He smiled. “Sure.”
Amy’s eyes flew open before she readjusted herself, lifting the small box off the counter. “Great! See you later then!” She rushed out of the store, never looking back.
Once Amy left, everyone else brought their things to the counter; they all seemed to be pretending that nothing had happened. A few people noticed the open book on the counter and started up friendly conversation with one another about the Jack Adams series. The town would be abuzz about it for the next few weeks, as it always was once a new book hit the shelves. The first day of the new Jack Adams’ book release was like an unofficial town holiday in Haines.
It was the twenty-seven-year-old Tom Neilly, a local sheriff’s deputy, who said. “I love the books, but the ending always seems… sad.”
Joe laughed and turned to Clara. “See! I told you!”
Clara sat up. “The end isn’t sad, it’s authentic. Just because the bad guy gets arrested, doesn’t stop the pain.”
Joe shook his head. “No, Jack always manages to put the bad guy in jail.”
“Yeah sure, if he lives,” Grace Neilly, Tom’s twenty-three-year-old sister added as she came to the counter; her own Jack Adams book in hand. Tom and Grace looked a lot alike. They both had strawberry blond hair and pale blue eyes.
Joe nodded. “I agree, but the family that the tragedy happened to never seems to recover from whatever bad incident took place.”
Tom leaned on the counter. “Yeah, like in the first book when poor Peter’s father died.” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “Though the killer is arrested, the book ends with the seven-year-old boy being left all alone.”
Grace shook her short bobbed, strawberry blond covered head. “It was so sad.” She placed a hand over her heart.
Clara rolled her eyes. “What did you want Jack to do? Buy the boy a puppy? His dad was dead. His mother died before the book’s story began. There was nothing he could have done.”
Grace jumped on that; like she always did. “Jack could have adopted him.”
Clara scoffed. “Jack doesn’t have time for kids! Look at his life? He roams the west, gunning bad men down. That’s much too dark for children.”
Joe sighed. “I agree.”
Clara looked over at him. “You do?”
Joe nodded. “Yeah. What ol’ Jackie really needs is a good woman.”
“Hear! Hear!” Tom thumped the counter, but not hard.
Clara looked between the two men. “A good woman? Neither of you are married. What could you possibly know about a good woman?” She placed her hands on her narrow black silk covered hips.
Tom looked over. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right one.”
Joe ran a hand through his short blond hair and looked over to meet Clara’s gaze. She lifted a brow. “And you, Joe? Are you waiting on a good woman?”
Joe smiled. “Isn’t every man?”
Clara looked away. “Some men don’t deserve a good woman. Jack’s had a rough life. Love wouldn’t fit into it.”
Joe narrowed his eyes. “No one deserves love, Clara. That’s what makes it so special. It’s a gift.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Well, I like ol’ Jackie just the way he is.”
Grace sighed, whimsically. “But the book would be so much better if Jack had a love interest.” She held her hands over her heart.
Tom put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “But he does.”
Clara looked at him with a squinted eye, “no, he doesn’t.
Tom gave her a considering look. “The waitress at the dining hall.”
Grace got excited. “That’s right, they always have a few words to share whenever Jack drops in.”
Joe watched the three of his friends continue to argue over the waitress and whether or not she was truly a love interest. He smiled. He loved when a new Jack Adams’ book came out. This is what it brought him; great friends and good conversation. His eyes drifted over to Clara and caught her as she rolled her eyes, continuing her spar with Grace. Joe thought she was beautiful, and when she looked over at him, she smiled. Her smile caused Joe to smile, as it always did. It was almost as if it were contagious. He could look at her all day, and he had realized long ago that he was in love with her. Clara had asked if he were waiting on a good woman, but Joe wasn’t waiting for a good woman. He wasn’t waiting for anyone, but Clara Cain.
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2
Chapter TWO
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“ Joe wasn’t waiting for a good woman. He
wasn’t waiting for anyone, but Clara Cain. ”
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Clara laced her fingers behind her back as Joe walked her over to Eve’s house. She had to be there in time to open the door for Eve’s eight-year-old twins, Lewis and Clark, after school let out. Joe had left Lily in charge of the store, as he always did for these walks. The couple took the shortcut through Haines Park to get there. Joe’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his beige pants. His crisp white shirt had the arms folded up; showi
ng off a pair of strong arms.
It was early afternoon and the weather was starting to cool, but with the sun up, it was still warm enough for parents to bring the smaller children out; children that were too young for school. Kids ran around in the grassy area. Some sat by the pond, as if waiting for the ducks to appear, but they were gone, not to return again until spring as it was late in the fall. The park, like the town, was a mixture of field, flowers, and forest.
The pair walked on the path in silence, and in their own thoughts. A group of women with easels were painting by a bushy area of the park; their easels positioned away from them. Clara headed that way; wanting to take a gander. A group of men she passed were standing by a tree, their discussion none other than Jack Adams.
Joe laughed. “What would our town do without Jack Adams?”
Clara shrugged. “Oh, breathe, eat, and sleep... you know, the usual.”
Joe shook his head. “I’d almost believed that there wouldn’t be another book.”
“Because of what I said last year at Eve’s house?” Last year, Clara had said that she’d heard a rumor of C.C. Reed’s retirement. She’d only said it in order to get a rise out of Eve’s husband, Robert Manning, who at the time hadn’t known she was in fact C.C. Reed.
Eve had married Robert in order to save her father’s publishing company, Haines Press, from the hands of its shareholders. Eve’s father, Adam Haines, had died, leaving the company to his only child, but the board had not seen her as someone who was capable of running a company. They’d only seen a woman, and had all assumed that a woman couldn’t possibly run a publishing company. So, they’d given Eve an option. Marry a man who could run the company on her behalf or step aside. Eve had decided what she’d thought would be the lesser of the two evils and had written east, searching for prospective candidates. Robert was qualified, handsome and charming.