by Karen Kirst
Jessica arrived, balancing three plates, and passed Nicole and Juliana pieces of cake before sitting across the table with her own. “I wish you’d let me at least peek at your wedding dress,” she complained before scooping up a bite.
Jane delivered lemonades and headed back for more, stopping briefly to thank well-wishers.
Nicole picked up her fork and repeated the answer she’d given over the past weeks. “You’ll see it once I’m finished.”
Returning to her seat, Jane sipped her drink. “I’ve no doubt it will be the loveliest creation you’ve made to date.”
Jessica swept her long ponytail behind her shoulder. Nicole had offered to arrange her hair, but she’d insisted on keeping it simple.
“Well, hurry up. You know I’m not the most patient person in the world.”
Juliana laughed outright. “Oh, we know.”
Across from her, Jane sighed and scanned the faces as if searching for someone specific. Her shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“What’s the matter, Jane?” Nicole had a feeling she knew, but she asked, anyway.
Jessica rolled her eyes. “What do you think? She’s pining away for her one true love.”
“Who’s that?” Juliana swiped a napkin across her mouth.
“Tom Leighton,” Nicole said quietly. “He used to own the barbershop.”
“Oh. I remember now. Megan mentioned him in her letters.”
Silence descended, Tom’s proposal to Megan hovering unspoken between them. While Megan had considered him a good friend, she hadn’t loved him. Her heart belonged to Lucian. He sold his shop and left town after she turned down his proposal.
Setting aside her fork, Jane gave up all pretense of eating. Nicole’s heart broke at the evidence of her sister’s misery. Tom had been a friend to the entire family, but he’d had a soft spot for Jane.
“He hasn’t written. Not one single letter to let us know he’s safe. He knows how I worry!”
Jessica rubbed her twin’s back. “I’m sure he’s fine, sis.”
Jane touched a hand to her elegant, upswept hair. “I thought he’d come home for my birthday. Surprise me, you know? What a fool I’ve been.”
“He’s been gone a long time,” Jessica said quietly. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”
Tears glistening, Jane reluctantly nodded. “I think you’re right. I’ve wasted enough time on Tom Leighton. It’s time to forget him.”
Nicole wondered if Jane truly meant what she said and, if so, how long it would take to get over him.
* * *
Nicole’s wedding day arrived crisp yet sunny, not a single cloud in the brilliant blue sky. Her cabin had been invaded by every last female in her family. Her mother and Aunt Mary were in the kitchen admiring the two-layer cake, a vanilla-and-cream confection that Jane had topped with chopped peppermints as a nod to the groom’s candy obsession. Everyone else was upstairs with her. As if she needed eight people to help her prepare.
Seated at the dressing table, Megan carefully tucked flowers into Nicole’s upswept curls, and lighthearted chatter and giggles enveloped her. In the mirror’s reflection, Nicole watched Rebecca give her younger sister, Amy, a hug. Sophie and Kate admired the wedding dress hanging in the corner. Jane was trying to convince Jessica to let her fix her hair into something more formal than a ponytail, and Juliana stood quietly by, eyes shiny as she observed all her sisters.
Contentment eclipsed the beginnings of nervous jitters. She was incredibly fortunate to be in this place, in this moment, with people who loved her. And whom she loved in return.
A flurry at the stairs caught everyone’s attention. A slender form with bright blond hair emerged from the opening in the floor.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Lillian strode across the spacious room, covering her mouth when she saw what Megan was doing to Nicole’s hair. “Quinn is going to swallow his tongue when he gets a look at you.”
That startled a laugh out of Megan. “I certainly hope not.”
Nicole smiled. “You look gorgeous. Did you get that dress in New Orleans?”
Nodding, she twirled. “Megan picked it out.”
Patrick and Lillian had accompanied the couple on their yearly summer trip to New Orleans to visit Lucian’s father. All these weeks later, Lillian was still talking about everything she’d seen and experienced. While Carl was in jail awaiting trial, their guardianship had been officially transferred to Lucian and Megan. Sheriff Timmons had assured them that they’d never have to go back to Carl. Their grandfather planned to visit around Thanksgiving, and both were eager to meet him.
“Pink is your favorite color,” Megan said, affection for the young girl sparkling in her eyes. “Good thing it complements your fair complexion.”
Nicole listened quietly as the two spoke of the fashionable shops they’d visited. In a different time, she would’ve been envious of those shop owners. Not now. She didn’t equate giving up her shop to giving up a dream. Instead, she saw it as exchanging it for a new and better one.
A life with the man she loved was what she truly desired, a life made rich with relationships. Quinn had surprised her with plans for an addition to the mercantile. Once they got settled in their new home, he was going to transform the store’s private quarters into her very own seamstress shop. He’d also offered to help her design an advertisement for surrounding communities so that she could receive and ship orders and not rely solely on the people of Gatlinburg for business. It was the perfect solution.
“Nicole, are you listening?”
“Oh, sorry. My mind was wandering. What did you say?”
Megan’s smile was knowing. “We’re returning to New Orleans at the end of this week. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone. Would you mind checking in on Patrick? He decided to stay here and continue helping Quinn at the store.”
“You were just there. Why so soon?”
Hope burned in her sister’s eyes. “Lucian and I plan to revisit some of the orphanages. We prayed about it and feel God is leading us to go back. We’d appreciate your prayers.”
Twisting in her seat, Nicole squeezed her hand. “You have them, sis.”
Their mother’s voice carried up the stairs. “We have to leave in twenty minutes, girls!”
A flurry of excitement engulfed the room. Nicole was urged into her dress, her sisters fussing over the delicate buttons marching up her back.
“Quinn is not going to like this feature,” Juliana chuckled.
She wondered what he was doing right that moment, what his thoughts were, if he was nervous.
Her flaring skirts were fluffed and straightened and a wildflower bouquet was pressed into her hands. And then they were making their way to the awaiting wagon.
Caleb’s jaw dropped. Coming around to the front steps, he braced his hands on his hips. “This can’t be my little Nicki.”
Nerves and anticipation zipping through her, she shot him a mock glare. “Don’t start with me, Caleb O’Malley. It isn’t nice to tease the bride-to-be.”
Taking her hand, he helped her down the stairs and lifted her onto the seat. “You’re right. Besides, you don’t look like Nicki today.” He waved a hand to indicate her dress. “Quinn is going to have trouble speaking his vows.”
“Have you seen him this morning?”
He grinned. “I have.”
She gripped the flowers. “And?”
“He seemed calm and focused. And eager to hitch himself to you.”
Smiling in relief, she closed her eyes and anticipated seeing her groom while Caleb helped the girls into the wagon bed, where hay squares had been set up and covered with quilts for makeshift seating.
Quinn was thrilled to have his parents and siblings in town. Her nervousness over meeting them had proved pointless. While
Edward Darling was a tad intimidating, with his booming voice and authoritative manner, he possessed a kind heart, and Edith Darling had treated Nicole with warmth and affection from the moment of their arrival. Quinn had apparently written glowing letters to his mother, and she was thrilled her eldest son had found love at last. Eighteen-year-old Trevor was even more outrageous than Quinn. Jessica had taken one look at the brash, handsome young man and become instantly smitten. And Tilly was a sweetheart, if a tad superior in her outlook. Nicole couldn’t really blame her. Not considering her lavish upbringing and well-to-do friends. Having two protective, doting brothers probably hadn’t helped matters.
Lucian and Megan had generously allowed the Darlings to stay with them. The past several weeks, Nicole had been given a glimpse into Quinn’s previous life. Much to his dismay, Edith had regaled her with all sorts of stories from his childhood. She was looking forward to visiting his Boston home at Christmastime.
The ride to the church passed quickly. Soon she was being ushered up the stairs and through the doors. The interior was packed, but all that mattered was Quinn.
The piano music swelled. Clasping her uncle Sam’s outstretched arm, she took her first step toward her future, toward the man God had brought into her life at just the right time. The moment their eyes met, Quinn’s went wide and his lips parted. Frank admiration replaced the initial shock. His honeyed eyes warmed with pride and love, and his mouth curved in a smile that made her feel as light as an air balloon.
When she’d reached the front and Sam joined his wife on the pew, Quinn took her hands in his and, in a swift and unexpected move, placed a quick but searing kiss on her lips.
Everyone in attendance laughed, including Reverend Monroe. “Try to have some patience, young man. We haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
“My apologies.” The twinkle in his eyes belied his words.
Happiness bubbling up, Nicole’s smile stretched from ear to ear. With her hands tucked safely in her groom’s, they exchanged the sacred vows committing themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. When the reverend pronounced them husband and wife, he said, “Now you have leave to kiss your bride.”
Soft laughter again carried through the lofty space as her husband pulled her close and kissed her with a tenderness that caught her off guard.
The time of congratulating and opening presents and partaking in refreshments passed in a happy blur. Quinn never left her side. The moment came a couple of hours later when the expression on his face warned he was done waiting to have her to himself.
Leaning close, she whispered, “Take me home now?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered back.
Firmly taking her hand in his, he loudly thanked everyone and urged them to stay and enjoy the celebration. Amid much teasing and clapping, they made their getaway. Their new home, a two-story home built in the same Victorian style as Lucian’s but painted a deep green instead of yellow, blended in with the surrounding forest. Her favorite feature was the wraparound porch. She was already envisioning relaxing evenings seated on the porch swing with her husband.
Setting the brake, he came around to her side to assist her. Only, he didn’t set her down. Instead, he swept her into his arms and started for the door.
Arms going around his neck, she relished the feel of his strong shoulders and chest supporting her. “You don’t have to carry me, you know.”
“Yes, I do. The first time you enter our home, I want it to be in my arms.”
Opening the door took some doing because he kept stopping to kiss her. Finally they made it inside. When he set her on her feet, she didn’t release him, instead using her hold on his neck to pull him closer.
“Alone at last,” she breathed, fingers playing in his hair.
Quinn’s hands tightened on her waist. Smiling, he dipped his head and explored her mouth in a kiss that branded her as his forever.
“When I saw you today,” he murmured, “I couldn’t help thinking how fortunate I am. You are the woman of my dreams.”
“I know a thing or two about dreams.” She cupped his smooth cheek. “And you’re it for me. I love you, Quinn Darling.”
He brushed another thrilling kiss across her lips. “I love you, Duchess.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE DOCTOR’S UNDOING by Allie Pleiter.
Dear Reader,
If you’ve read the previous books in this series, you know Nicole hasn’t always been typical heroine material. So when it came time to plan out her story, I was a little nervous. Thankfully, I quickly fell in love with the idea of a confident, easygoing hero like Quinn Darling who would delight in teasing Nicole out of her comfort zone. Their journey to love, as well as the topic of closely held dreams and how they can change over the course of time, has been fun to explore.
The twins, Jane and Jessica, will be featured in the next two books. If you’d like more information on my Smoky Mountain Matches series, please stop by my website, www.karenkirst.com. You can also find me on Facebook and Twitter, @KarenKirst.
May your dreams come true,
Karen Kirst
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.
You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.
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Chapter One
July 1919
Charleston, South Carolina
Brr. Cold.
For July in Charleston, South Carolina, that was quite a feat. The shiver that ran down Ida Lee Landway’s back had nothing to do with the afternoon’s heat—which was oppressive—but everything to do with the frosty feeling coming from the imposing iron gates of the Parker Home for Orphans. One didn’t have to know children to know those looming cement walls and thick black iron grating were just plain wrong. Charleston homes boasted many beautiful wrought iron gates and graceful stone walls, but this entrance was large, clunky and downright unwelcoming. Oh, Father, Ida gulped toward Heaven, have I made a wrong choice?
She checked the notice in her hands one more time, hoping somehow she’d gotten the address wrong. The multibuilding compound—what she could see of it through the gates—looked more like a factory than an orphanage to her color-loving artistic eye. Many of the buildings had the city’s classic red brick and black shutters, but somehow the place still looked as if someone had doused the whole affair with a bucket of gray paint. Even Charleston’s red-clay soil seemed to have more vibrancy to it.
A small face popped into her vision. “Who’re you?”
An artist by nature, Ida was a student of faces. She collected a dozen details of this tiny countenance in a matter of seconds. Clean, but pale, with powder blue eyes. Her blond hair hung in utilitarian braids down each side of her head—again, neat but without any bows or ribbons. She looked about seven, with a pair of her front teeth missing to show the tiny white buds of their adult counterparts poking through pink gums. She looked like a child who existed, but not one who thrived.
The girl stuffed her hands into the worn pockets of her faded white pinafore and stubbed a scuffed black shoe against the gate’s lower rung. With the large vertical iron bars between them, Ida couldn’t shake the notion that it felt as if she was at the zoo—and that was an awful thought for a place where chi
ldren lived.
Ida applied her friendliest smile. “I’m Nurse Landway. Who are you?”
“Gitch.”
Ida raised her brow at the odd name. “Gitch?”
Gitch shrugged. “Gwendolyn Martin, actually, ’cept nobody should bother with that name. I’ve been Gitch since I been here.”
“Gwendolyn’s a pretty name.” When the child obviously didn’t agree, Ida added, “But Gitch is definitely memorable. And rather fun.” She reached a hand through the gates to the girl. “Pleased to meet you, Gitch. How about you let me in?”
Gitch looked as if that were a ridiculous request. “Everybody knows I can’t do that.”
“Really.” It made perfect sense why a child of her age couldn’t simply unlatch the orphanage gate, but Gitch seemed so ready with a more involved explanation that Ida found herself eager to hear it.
“Dr. Parker’s the only one what’s can open this gate. Well, he and Mrs. Leonard, but she died. Mr. MacNeil can, too, but he’s not here.” She ran her pink tongue along her bottom lip before adding, “You’re a nurse?”
“I am.”
“This gate’s for visitors.” She narrowed her eyes at Ida’s valises as if to declare, You sure don’t look like a visitor to me.
It felt as if the world was daring her to declare herself a visitor and simply walk away to somewhere that didn’t feel even drearier than the war hospital Ida had just left. “No,” she replied, hiding the heavy sigh she felt in her chest. “I’m not a visitor.” Out of the corner of her eye, Ida spied two other sets of curious eyes peering at her from over a stone bench just behind Gitch. “I’m your new nurse.”
“Not mine.” Gitch’s thin chin jutted out. “I’m never sick.”
“A fact I take great pride in, Miss Martin.” The deep, crisp voice from her left startled Ida. “I work very hard to keep you well and healthy.”
Ida studied the man’s face. Dark, almost black eyes assessed her with a clinical precision. The doctor. Equally dark hair, combed to precision, framed a pleasant face—save for the utter lack of a smile. He was tall, very official looking in his crisp brown suit and starched shirt. That he was wearing a suit and vest in Charleston’s July signaled a man committed to decorum and order. General Barnes back at Camp Jackson had offered a less intimidating countenance, and he was not known as a friendly man. The man ran a home for children, for goodness’ sake. Shouldn’t he be a mite friendlier than the imposing gentleman in front of her?