The Secret Admirer Romance Collection
Page 13
He arrived at the office earlier than normal the next morning, finding Leroy slumped in the desk chair sound asleep. He didn’t begrudge the man some shut-eye. He worked hard and Mitch would be unable to do his job as efficiently without him. He nudged his friend awake and motioned him to go home.
“You’re here early.”
“Have to justify the faith the town’s placed in me.”
“If you ask me, you need to thank that Advocate person, too. He made the folks here take a hard look at the campaigns and see through Greenly’s empty promises.”
Mitch doubted that. After the first article he’d barely glanced at the others. Mainly to make sure the man wasn’t printing anything that was untrue. He avoided them because they always made him sound better than he was. He doubted anyone thought that highly of him.
Moving to his desk, he sat down, enjoying the sensation of being in charge. He belonged here. In this job. He tugged on his shirt and removed the badge pinned there. The small silver star was battered, bent, and worth little money. But to him it represented who he was and what the Lord had called him to do. His role was to protect the town of Riverton and serve the folks who lived there.
He pinned the badge back in place as his door opened and Polly Wilson strolled in, laying a paper on his desk. It was a one-page edition of the Chronicle announcing his election as sheriff.
“I thought you might like to have a copy. Purely for sentimental reasons.”
“Mighty nice of you, Miss Polly, thank you.” She stood at his desk, clearly having more to say.
“I hope you know that you didn’t win this election by yourself.”
“Ma’am?”
“You owe a huge debt to The Advocate. Without those articles reminding folks what a good job you’ve done, Willard Greenly would be sitting in that chair and you’d be looking for work.”
“I doubt that.”
Polly arched her eyebrows and leaned toward him. “Did you read those articles?”
“I glanced at them.”
“And do you know how many folks changed their minds once they had time to think about them? You refused to lift a finger to prove to the town that you wanted to remain in office. Many folks thought you didn’t want to be sheriff any longer. Those articles showed them that you did and that you were the right man for the job.”
She had a point. He’d never thought about it that way before. He considered his lack of campaigning to be a sign that he was confident and secure. He hadn’t considered the people might think he didn’t care. “Then I’ll have to thank The Advocate. If I knew who he was.”
“I know. And if you had a thimbleful of sense, you’d have figured it out already. There’s only one person in this town who was willing to fight for you and make sure you got reelected.”
Mitch frowned. The only person who had nagged him about that was—
No, she couldn’t be The Advocate.
Polly pressed her lips together and exhaled softly. “I can see the wheels finally turning in that thick male head of yours. I suggest you read those articles again with your full attention and look between the lines at what isn’t said. If you don’t have a change of heart, then maybe you’re not the right man after all.” She walked to the door and then abruptly turned back again. “Oh, and I wouldn’t take too long making up your mind because she’s leaving on the morning train.”
“Hannah is leaving?”
“Isn’t that what you told her to do? Besides, there’s nothing for her here. Is there?” Mitch set his elbows on the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. Hannah was leaving. Hannah wrote the articles. Why? His gaze fell to the Chronicle, and he noticed that there were other papers beneath the first page. The four articles by The Advocate. He picked up the first one and started to read, this time with visions of Hannah scratching out the words at her desk.
It wasn’t until he got to the last article that his heart sped up. This one was different in tone and subject. He hadn’t read it. He’d been too busy on Election Day. Now he took his time, and what he saw opened his eyes. This could only have been written by a woman in love. Was this how Hannah saw him?
How had he been so blind for so long?
Fear. That’s how.
He’d felt the attraction, he’d suspected she had feelings for him as well, but the thought of risking his heart again was too painful to even contemplate, so he’d pushed her away time and time again. And he could lose her. He glanced at the clock. The train left in fifteen minutes. She was probably already on board.
Grabbing his hat, he charged out the door, praying that he wasn’t too late and that he could change her mind. He had no idea how he’d do that, but he could be stubborn, too, and he’d find a way.
Chapter 14
It was hard to see her last glimpse of Riverton through tears. Hannah ducked her head and dabbed at her eyes with her lace handkerchief. It was for the best. Her big adventure out west had been a failure. Mitch was right. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t be a frontier woman no matter how much she wanted to be.
Things had always worked out for her in Cincinnati, but she could see now that much of that had been due to her father stepping in, smoothing over her errors. In Riverton she had to finally face the consequences of her impulsive decisions, and it had left her with a broken and shattered heart.
The irony was that her desire to help Mitch and show him how she felt had been lost on him. Not only did he not read the articles; he didn’t understand the emotion behind them.
“Miss Davis, I need you to come with me.”
Hannah’s heart froze at the sound of the familiar deep voice. She looked up at Mitch who stood beside her seat, blocking the aisle. His face was shadowed by the brim of his hat. She swallowed to clear the tightness in her throat. “Why?”
“For attempting to bribe an officer of the law.”
What was he saying? “No. I did no such thing. You’re mistaken.”
He reached down and picked up her valise with one hand then took her arm with the other, urging her to her feet. “We’ll discuss this at the jail.”
“But the train is leaving soon.”
He ignored her and steered her out of the train car and to the platform. Leroy stood on the ground, and he took her baggage. Mitch jumped down then helped her down the steps. He took her arm again and strode toward the jail. By the time they arrived, her legs were tired from trying to keep pace with his long stride.
She couldn’t imagine what she’d done. Her surprise was giving way to anger. He’d better have a good reason for his actions.
He removed his hat, smoothed his dark hair back, and gestured for her to be seated.
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, trying to control her rising anger. “I hope you’ll make this quick. I don’t want to miss my train.”
“I only have a couple of questions.”
She looked at him more closely. His whole demeanor had changed. His blue eyes were filled with concern; his shoulders were bent toward her. He reached for a stack of papers and handed them to her. She gasped softly when she recognized the articles she’d written as The Advocate. How had he found out?
“Did you write those articles?”
Her first impulse was to deny it, but there was no point now. Mitch was probably going to scold her again. Well, she wouldn’t listen. “Yes, I did. Now may I leave?”
“Why did you write them?”
“Because you were too bullheaded to do anything to win the election. You just expected it to happen without any effort.”
“Is that all?”
“No. You were the better candidate. After I learned about the vote buying I wanted to give you some help. The election was unfair. I just wanted to even the odds.”
“What about this last article? What was your reason for writing that one?”
Her cheeks flamed. She’d hoped he’d never see it, but he had. “I’m not sure. I guess I got carried away.” Moisture pooled in her eyes and she dug fr
antically into her reticule for her handkerchief. A strong hand held out a clean one for her. She took it, avoiding looking at Mitch. He came to her side, stooping down and resting his large hand on hers.
“Hannah, I’m sorry. I’ve been a blind fool. I didn’t want to see what was right in front of me. You. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay in Riverton.”
She looked at him, searching his chiseled features for the truth and afraid to believe what she saw in his blue eyes. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you. And I think after reading these that you love me, too.”
“You do? But you told me to leave.”
He pulled her to her feet, slipping his hands around her waist. “I was afraid. But I know now that you’re what I need. Times are changing, the town is changing, and I need a woman with imagination and courage to help me face the challenges. A woman who likes adventure.”
She laid her hand against his face, thrilling at the whisker-roughened skin. “Are you sure?”
“I knew from the moment you walked into my jail. Will you marry me?”
“Yes. But on one condition: I still want to be a reporter.”
“I have a condition, too. You can report all you want, but when it crosses the line into my job, you have to step aside and let me take over.” He pulled her close. “I couldn’t bear to lose you. I want to keep you safe.”
“I think we have a deal, Sheriff.” She laid her hand on his chest, the rapid beating of his heart mirroring her own. He drew her against him and she slipped her arms around his neck. “My hero.”
He grinned then captured her mouth, kissing her with all the promise of their future and fulfilling all the dreams and fantasies she’d ever had about her heroic Western sheriff.
Lorraine Beatty is a multi-published, bestselling author. Born and raised in Columbus, Ohio, she currently lives in Brandon, Mississippi, with her husband of forty-four years. Lorraine has written for trade books, newspapers, and company newsletters. Lorraine has lived in various regions of the country as well as in Germany. She is a member of RWA, PAN, and ACFW and is a charter member and former president of Magnolia State Romance Writers.
Too Many Secrets
by Molly Noble Bull
Dedication
To Bret, Burt, Bren, Bethanny, Hailey, Dillard, Bryson, Grant, Grace, Jana, Linda, Angela, Carmen, and Noe.
But to God give the glory. I can do nothing without Him.
But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
PHILIPPIANS 4:19
Chapter 1
Frio Corners, Texas
November 1882
Looks like the stage from San Antonio pulled in across the street.”
Luke followed the hotel employee’s gaze and peered through the front window. “Yep, it’s here all right.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Twelve noon. Right on time, too.” Then he looked back at the man behind the main desk. “Doc Carter asked me to pick up a package for Mr. Franklin and drop it by the Franklin farm on my way home. It’s medicine. Is it ready, sir?”
“Mr. Ambrose Franklin.” The desk clerk paused. “Yes, here it is.” One eyebrow lifted. “I’m new in town, and you look familiar. But I can’t recall your name.”
“I’m Luke Conquest. Mr. Franklin’s neighbor.”
“Oh.” He handed Luke a small wooden box. “I understand Mr. Franklin’s been sick off and on for a long time now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, tell him I send my regards.”
“I’ll do that, Mr.—”
“Pearson.”
Luke glanced around the dark, expensive-looking hotel lobby with its crystal chandeliers and polished floors. The word Frio meant “cold” in Spanish, and the Frio Corners Hotel was named for the Frio River. The hotel was new, and this was the first time Luke had come inside since it opened. The furniture gleamed like store-bought polish. Slick and smooth. And it smelled like beeswax. It could be a long while before he stopped by the hotel again, and he wanted to take it all in before moving on.
He opened his mouth to tell Mr. Pearson how much he liked the hotel when the entry door opened. The most beautiful girl Luke had ever seen stepped inside. His heart pounded so hard that he did a double take. She looked tall, too.
Why, she was near as tall as he was.
Young women that fine didn’t arrive in the Texas hill country every day. He wanted to savor every moment of that experience.
Her gold-colored hair reminded him of mountain honey and wheat while still in the field, and it looked as soft as a feather pillow in fresh-smelling ticking. It was wrong. But he couldn’t stop staring. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement like she had a zest for life. He couldn’t look away.
Like a swan on a quiet lake, she floated toward the center of the room. Four young children followed after her.
A warning light went off inside his brain.
The young woman was married and probably somebody’s mama. As a church elder, Luke should walk out of here right now and never look back. He hesitated. Maybe he was wrong. As if he’d been hog-tied by an invisible rope, he stayed put. Besides, she looked too young to be the mother of that bunch.
Slim and straight, she glided across the polished floor with confidence and grace. He’d never seen royalty, but he pictured them looking like her. She walked up to the main desk and rang the bell. Ping. Her shiny yellow hair looked as alive as she did, brushing her shoulders below her brown homemade-looking bonnet, and she held her head high as she stood in front of the counter, waiting to talk to a hotel employee.
Mr. Pearson continued sorting papers. Apparently he hadn’t noticed her yet.
She coughed, and when he turned around, she smiled as if she talked to strangers behind desks every day. But even in the darkened lobby, Luke noticed that her brown skirt and white blouse looked old and shabby. So did the children’s clothes. What a contradiction. A princess dressed in rags.
“I’m Miss Abigail Willoughby from Atlanta, Georgia.” She had a heavy southern accent. “And these here are my brothers and sisters.”
Brothers and sisters. Luke breathed a sigh of relief. She isn’t married.
The young woman rested her hand on the shoulder of the taller of the two boys. “This is Tommy. Next comes Margaret. Then Louise, and finally Albert.”
Luke moved a little closer to the girl and the children.
“I’m lookin’ for Pastor and Mrs. Andrew Johnson,” she went on. “They asked me to meet them here.”
“I haven’t seen them. Are they expecting to meet you here today, ma’am?”
“Well, yes and no.” She shrugged. “They didn’t exactly know when I’d arrive. And I don’t rightly know where they live—this being my first visit to Texas and all. Would you mind lookin’ to see if they left me a note or something?”
“Why, I’d be glad to. Just a minute. I’ll check.” Mr. Pearson turned around and looked through a stack of notes and letters. “Miss Abigail Willoughby.” He pivoted, handing her a white envelope. “Here, ma’am.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.”
She paused to read her letter. Tommy, standing behind Miss Willoughby, pushed his younger sister. Margaret whimpered when her head hit the wooden counter. The little girl stuck out her tongue, pointing it at Tommy. The boy pulled a lock of her red hair. Margaret cried louder.
Luke reached out—prepared to pull the two apart if it came to that. He considered a fight between two children in a nice hotel like this unacceptable. Yet the battle had started right there behind their big sister’s back, and Miss Abigail Willoughby appeared to be unaware of it. Or didn’t care.
In her white blouse with buttons all the way to her chin, Miss Willoughby looked as calm and stress free as a white-tailed dove.
“Stop that, Tommy.” Miss Willoughby didn’t bother to turn around but just kept reading her letter. “If you want the candy I promised, that is.”
“Yes, Abby.”
Luke stepped forward. “My name is Luke Conquest, and I know where Ambrose Franklin lives. In fact, I’m on my way there now. And I would be happy to drive you and the children if you would permit it, ma’am.”
The man behind the desk frowned. “Are you kin to Deputy Conquest, the one that got shot dead in a shoot-out?”
“He was my pa.”
“Well, I heard of him, but I don’t know you from Adam. So I can’t let you take this young woman anywhere. Wouldn’t be proper.” He looked back at Abby. “I’d take you myself, ma’am, but I just have too much work to do here at the hotel. Book work and all. You know how it is this time of the year—and with the Christmas season coming up before you know it. I’m sure you understand.”
“I’m an elder over at the church on the hill, sir,” Luke explained. “That should count for something.”
A woman was mopping the floor off to the side. She turned and smiled up at Luke. He recognized her and smiled back.
“Why, Mrs. Eastland. I didn’t know you worked here now.”
“Started last week.” She sent Mr. Pearson a stern look. “I know Luke there, sir, and I can vouch for him. He goes to our church just like he said. I think you should let him take the woman and the children wherever they need to go.”
“Would you like for this man to drive you, ma’am?” Mr. Pearson asked Abby.