by Jodi Thomas
“He was never one of your men. You’re too smart to have thought that. An unarmed man doesn’t join an outlaw gang.” A possibility formed in her mind. “You knew he was a writer and my guess is you were filling him full of stories.”
Chesty Peterson laughed so hard that dust shook off him in a cloud. “You’re not only pretty, but smart. Wouldn’t want to leave that man of yours and come along with me? As soon as I get the map, I’ll be a rich man. I could buy you the moon.”
She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t know what I’d do with the moon; besides, I’m crazy about Andrew. Always have been. Maybe he didn’t die that night because he wasn’t thinking of the robbery, he was busy saving my life.”
“So you married him as a thank-you, pretty lady?”
“No, I had to really work at getting him to fall in love with me. I, as it happened, fell for him at first sight.”
“Love at first sight, was it? That happened to me with my first wife,” Chesty admitted, obviously enjoying the fact that he didn’t frighten Beth. “I’ve always wished I’d had a little of the second sight that day. I finally got up enough nerve to run, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s not still looking for me.”
Beth laughed just as Andrew pushed the door open.
Peterson stepped closer to her and pulled his gun. He looked tough enough to kill them both without blinking.
Beth had to do something fast, before Andrew was shot.
“Welcome back, dear. We have company.”
Andrew moved a few steps inside and closed the door. “I can see that,” he said. “Step away from my wife, Chesty. I’ll give you what you came for, but don’t hurt her.”
Peterson looked offended. “I didn’t come to hurt her. I came to kill you. I was just trying to talk her into marrying me while I waited for you to come back.”
“He doesn’t have the map,” Beth said. “I do, and I’m not giving it to you.”
Peterson kept his gun pointed straight at Andrew. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. I pulled it from his pocket and hid it. You’ll never find it. You’ll never find the treasure unless you bargain with me.”
Both men looked confused.
Peterson backed against the wall. “So I’m bargaining with you again, pretty lady. Name your price.”
“I want my husband alive. I’ll give you the map if you’ll leave without firing a shot.”
“All right.” Peterson didn’t look like he trusted her, but he seemed to be playing along.
“Don’t, Beth, he’ll kill us both.” Andrew stared at her as if he were thinking they would both be dead in a minute and he wanted her to be the last thing he saw.
“I’ve bargained with him before, Andrew, and found him a man of his word. Do I have your word, Mr. Peterson? You’ll leave Andrew alive if I hand over the map?”
“You do.” Peterson straightened.
Beth pulled the pouch from under the rug and handed it to him. “It was nice doing business with you.”
Chesty smiled. “And with you, pretty lady. If you ever decide you want a new husband, you’ll find me up in the panhandle digging out gold.”
“I’ll remember that.” Beth walked past Andrew and opened the door for Peterson. “Good night, Mr. Peterson, and good luck.”
When he was gone, Andrew grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t ever do that again, dear. I thought for a moment I’d lost you.”
“You don’t mind that I gave up the map to the Gold of the Palo Duro?”
He pulled her to him. “I’ve got all I want and need in this life. The map is nothing to me. Only, dear, you need to get dressed.”
“But it’s late. I’m already ready for bed.”
“I’ve got a surprise waiting for you downstairs.”
Beth pouted, but she changed into her clothes as Andrew watched, and then he took her hand and almost ran down the stairs.
There, in a little drawing room off the main lobby, the judge waited for them.
Before she could greet him, Andrew said, “Here she is, Judge. I want you to marry us right now.”
“But . . .” She seriously considered the possibility that her dear husband might have snapped and begun living in fiction. “We’re already married.”
“Will you say the words again?” Andrew asked. “You haven’t changed your mind?”
“No, dear.” She played along. “Of course I’ll marry you again.”
As the judge read through the brief ceremony, he turned to her. “Do you promise to love and cherish him all the days of your life?”
“I do,” she answered, loving the warm forever look in Andrew’s eyes.
He took both her hands. “And I promise you’ll be forever in my heart and we’ll make our home forever in Texas.”
Beth jumped into his arms. He’d given her all she ever wanted, a man who loved her and a home. At that moment she realized that she would have moved anywhere with him. He was her life and she was his heart.
As they walked back up the stairs, she whispered, “Andrew, you didn’t have to promise that in front of the judge.”
“Yes, I did. It was the only way I could make the dream I had when we slept on the summit come true.”
“What did you dream?”
He held her close. “I dreamed that all our children were born in Texas.”
EPILOGUE
THE LEAVES AROUND THE COLLEGE CAMPUS WERE changing from green to brilliant reds and yellow as Andrew walked beside Levi and Leonard. In the months he’d had them in his home, they’d grown and matured. A sadness had settled over them both when they’d said good-bye to their father almost six months ago, but he’d kept in touch with letters.
“You sure he’s here?” Levi asked. “This isn’t the kind of place my father would be.”
“His last letter said he’d meet us here.”
A thin man wearing a funny hat came toward them. A gentleman with a flair about him.
Andrew smiled. “Professor Smith, I believe.”
Both boys stared for a moment, then ran into the professor’s waiting arms.
Benjamin looked like a man whose heart was exploding with joy. He winked at Andrew. “It took me a while, but with the right papers I’m now teaching here at the college. I have a cottage on campus that will suit the three of us.”
“I’m glad,” Andrew answered. “I’ll miss them.”
Benjamin held his sons. “I’ll read them your stories. I see another collection is due to come out soon. What’s it called?”
Andrew couldn’t hide a hint of pride as he answered, “Peterson’s Gold.”
As they turned to walk away, Andrew added, “Bethie told me to remind you to come for Christmas. She’s already planning. Colby, Madie, and the baby will be at Whispering Mountain too.”
Benjamin shook his head. “I don’t know if the McMurrays would welcome me.”
“Of course they will. I’ve already read them a story about a man who loved his sons so much he pretended to be a priest to get close to them. They think you’re a grand hero.”
“Papa,” Leonard said. “Can we go home now?”
Benjamin took his sons’ hands and nodded his thanks to Andrew. “Take care of Bethie.”
“I will.” Andrew turned and walked away, thinking he could just catch the midnight train and be back to her before dawn.
Read on for a special preview of the next heartwarming HARMONY novel from Jodi Thomas
BETTING THE RAINBOW
Coming April 2014 from Berkley!
CHAPTER 1
June 1, 2013
RONNY LOGAN CLIMBED OUT OF THE TINY PLANE AND stepped onto packed dirt as a dust devil danced in the plowed field bordering the Harmony, Texas, landing strip. The legs of her white linen trousers flapped in the wind. She swore she could feel a thin layer of dirt settling over her to welcome her home.
Home, she thought, after over a year, I’m finally back. She’d returned to face her past and the memory of
losing her future along with her one true love.
“Thanks, Derwood.” Ronny glanced at the old hippie of a pilot. His shirt was so spotted with chewing tobacco she thought he might have been wearing camouflage. “When I left Harmony I thought this little plane was a wild ride, but after flying over the jungles of Malaysia, it seemed like smooth sailing. I salute your skill.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Logan. It was a real pleasure to transport a nice woman like you. You was always a pretty girl, but traveling made you downright beautiful. Ever’ single man in the county will be knocking on your mother’s door begging you to go out.”
She nodded a thank-you for the compliment knowing she wouldn’t be staying with her mother, Dallas Logan. In fact, Dallas probably wouldn’t answer the door to the daughter she’d disowned for running away from home at twenty-seven.
“I’m not interested in going out with anyone.” Smoothing her short hair back Ronny wondered if her mother would even recognize that she was forty pounds lighter and what seemed like a hundred years wiser.
Derwood might be twice her age, but Ronny swore she saw him blush as he changed the subject. “I’m sorry to pry. I ain’t used to talking to passengers. My last trip was two crates of prize chickens for the Delaney farm. They complained all the way. If the flight from Amarillo had lasted any longer I’d have had to ring a few necks.”
“I’m glad I missed seeing that,” she said as she looked around for her ride. A strip of dirt someone had scraped years ago and left to dry rock-hard and one hanger built in patchwork style from used lumber were all she saw.
Derwood took the hint. “You got someone picking you up? I could get the truck out and take you the last mile into town.”
A long black Lincoln pulled off the main road and headed toward them, answering his question. Her ride was coming.
Ronny stood frozen in the hot sunshine as the car drew closer. She’d known all year that this day would come. She’d have to step back into her hometown, but not back into her life. Never back into being the shy daughter of the town gossip. Never back into caring so much for the first man who loved her that she wished she could have died beside him.
In the year she’d traveled alone around the world, she’d grown and realized she could live a full life without love or even company. She’d developed skills and learned to communicate in several languages. Surely she could handle the small-town people of Harmony. She had left a few friends here, but she had never been a part of the town and she wouldn’t be now.
All Ronny Logan wanted was a solitary nest to land in for a while. She needed the peace and calmness of this place, not the people or the memories. Her soul was tired. She wanted time to think. Not to dream or to remember, but to plan. It seemed that since the day she’d walked out of Dallas Logan’s house, Ronny had been changing, growing, morphing into someone she never thought she’d be able to be.
A tall, thin man in his sixties stepped out of the car and smiled at her in his polite way. “Welcome back, Miss Logan. I’m glad you’re home.”
She took his offered arm and moved toward the Lincoln. “I expected the ladies at the bed-and-breakfast would have fattened you up by now, Mr. Carleon. A year with Martha Q and Mrs. Biggs and you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Oh, but I have. You won’t believe the strange world I’ve stepped into since you’ve been gone. I’ve even taken up writing my memoirs. I’m thinking of calling it Adventures in Service.”
Mr. Carleon took two bags from Derwood and put them in the back of his polished car as he continued: “I followed your e-mailed instructions to the letter. I’ve told no one about your return, but there are lots of people in this town badgering me for news of you. When you’re ready to make an appearance in public, they’ll be waiting to welcome you. Until then, you’ll have your silence.”
“I need time. For right now I don’t think I’m ready to see anyone.”
He nodded as if understanding. She almost expected him to tell her that Marty Winslow would have wanted her to visit her friends, but Mr. Carleon would never be so presumptuous. The old man must be the last of a dying breed. The perfect butler, confidant, chauffeur, organizer. She had no doubt he could run the White House or Winter’s Inn Bed-and-Breakfast with polished skill.
“I thought that might be your wish.” He grinned as if proud he’d guessed right. “Even though I had the duplex cleaned and made sure the best room at the bed-and-breakfast was available, I also leased a cabin out on Rainbow Road. It faces a small lake. There are walking trails probably made by animals coming in to water, a porch swing and no one close enough to see your lights at night. I’ve stocked it with a few basics, but if you’ll call me after you’ve settled in, I’ll be happy to deliver whatever you need.”
“Sounds perfect.” Ronny let out a breath she felt she’d been holding for days. “You’re still taking care of me, aren’t you, Mr. Carleon?” It had taken her a month into her trip to stop being surprised at the depth of details Mr. Carleon had covered. The hotels knew she liked a morning sun window, a shower, not a bath. Fruit was always delivered each evening along with maps and a suggested agenda for the next day. Mr. Carleon was doing what he did best: taking care of people. First Marty Winslow and now her. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
“Marty would have wanted me to. He gave me enough stock in his company over the years that I’ll never have to work. I consider keeping up with you as my hobby. I’ve kept every postcard you’ve sent me pinned to a map on one wall of an office I rented downtown. I needed to have somewhere to go every morning. Hanging around the B&B wasn’t an option. It was either cut my own throat to keep from eating all the cinnamon rolls each morning or find somewhere to go. Setting up an office within walking distance seemed the least violent solution.”
Ronny didn’t have to ask why. She knew the owner of Winter’s Inn and could guess. Unless someone had slit Martha Q Patterson’s throat, the innkeeper was probably still talking.
He opened the passenger door for her. “Where to first?”
“I need to pay Derwood for the flight.” She reached for the leather satchel she’d carried through a dozen countries.
Mr. Carleon lowered his voice. “Already drafted from your expense account, miss, and you gave him a very nice tip.”
“Good.” She curled into the car. “Do you think we could drive by the cemetery before you take me to the cabin? I’d like to tell Marty I’m back.”
“Of course.” Mr. Carleon started the car and turned on the same soothing music she had listened to when she’d been driven to visit Marty at the hospital. Those days seemed a million years away.
Ronny closed her eyes and let memories filter into her thoughts along with the haunting symphony that always seemed to be playing in the back of her mind.
Scenes of her life drifted like photos floating on midnight water. The childhood as an only daughter of a mother who wished she’d never been born. The job in the back room of the post office she’d gotten at eighteen so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. One broken man who finally saw the real person inside her when she was twenty-seven. He’d pushed aside his crippling anger at life long enough to care about her. The memory of his loving touch, still so vivid in her mind that she could almost feel it now. The darkness of his disappearance. His return to Harmony after a year so he could spend his last few days alive with her.
When the car turned into the cemetery, Ronny straightened and shoved a tear off her cheek. She’d carried Marty in her thoughts for a year and now it was time to say good-bye.
His love would always warm her, but today she’d turn off all emotion, all feelings. The wound of losing him might never heal, but she could wall in her heart and will herself never to love again. After today she planned to be alone through life. Never again would Ronny Logan let emotion rule her world.
CHAPTER 2
AUSTIN HAWK MAINTAINED HIS PACE THOUGH HIS MUSCLES ached. Every day he’d go one more round on the obstacle course he’d mappe
d. One more round, ten more minutes.
As he gulped in air and ignored the pain, the memories of the fire came back to him. Austin never tried to push them away. The knowledge of what he’d gone through was all that kept him alive some days. He’d survived hell and now he’d survive the recovery.
He plowed across the grass and ran through the back door of his grandfather’s house. Three flights up. Three flights down. A sprint to the dock and then back to the swing hidden among the willows.
“Made it!” he heaved as he dropped to the grass, laughing. If anyone ever saw him they’d think he was crazy as a rat left to live in a maze.
Only no one saw him out here. This small lake wasn’t big enough to attract fish, much less fishermen. Twisted Creek, several miles downstream, was a wonderful getaway with huge old trees and a winding, sandy bank just made for vacationing. In the hundred years Harmony had been settled, only three people had ever bothered to build out this far on Rainbow Road.
The Delaneys were the first. They lived in the white house in need of painting. They’d made their living with pecan trees and chickens for as long as anyone could remember.
The green cabin, built halfway around the rim of the lake between him and the Delaneys, had been built by some rich guy back in the forties. The millionaire wanted to live on a pond like Thoreau while he wrote. Only he never wrote. Some said it took the would-be writer a year to drink himself to death. His little cabin on the lake went into an estate that rented the place out now and then.
And the last place—Austin rolled over so he could stare at his grandfather’s sky-blue three story misfit—was simply called the Hawk House. The place looked more like it should be on a coastline with sailboats drifting by, but his granddad hadn’t cared. He said it reminded him of his home in Maine. He even added the widow’s walk around the single third story room.