The Secret Admirer Romance Collection

by Barratt, Amanda; Beatty, Lorraine; Bull, Molly Noble

  He should have demanded to know what was going on inside of her head. But he didn’t want to make matters worse.

  So he said, “Sorry, Abby. I didn’t mean to scare you, and I appreciate the good job you are doing ironing my shirt.”

  She smiled then and went back to her ironing as if nothing had happened. But something had happened, and Luke intended to discover what it was.

  Three days later, they were in the kitchen again. She was slicing tomatoes and lettuce for a salad. He sat at the other end of the table drinking hot coffee.

  She looked up from her slicing and said, “If tomatoes could talk, would they call themselves to-may-toes or to-mah-toes?”

  He laughed because her question was clever and downright funny. However, she must have been offended because the sweet expression on her face disappeared.

  Luke wanted to make amends. He got up from the kitchen table and started toward her. Maybe she knew he wanted to kiss her. If she didn’t, he knew.

  “Stay away from me!” She grabbed a tomato and threw it at him.

  He ducked. “Stop that!”

  “No,” she shouted, “because you are exactly like Gary.”

  “Who’s Gary?”

  “My stepfather, Gary Willoughby. He laughed in my face, too, just like you do.”

  Luke had thought Mr. Willoughby was her real father. He hadn’t known she had a stepfather. In that moment, Abby’s happy, cheerful demeanor totally crumbled. He was able to see more of the inner torment behind that covering she always wore.

  “What’s bothering you, Abby? Please, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  Her smile returned—as if somehow she’d managed to paste it on her face by sheer effort. “It’s me that should be helping you,” she said in her sweetest of voices. “What would you like for supper?”

  He would not allow it to end this way—not this time. If they hoped to have any kind of marriage, they must be completely honest with each other, and there could be no secrets between them. Abby’s secret was like a boil he’d had on his arm once. The longer he waited to lance it, the bigger and more painful it became. He was determined to lance the boil that was deep in her heart. He just didn’t know how to go about doing it.

  “Something must have happened in your childhood, Abby, something I don’t know about. It’s time you told me what it is you’ve been hiding. And why do you smile all the time?”

  “My grandmother told me to smile no matter how people treated me. Satisfied?”

  “No, I’m not. What’s really bothering you?”

  The anger he saw in her eyes previously, returned. “Nothing! I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes!”

  She threw down the bowl of salad. Bits of lettuce and red tomatoes spilled on the floor. “I have nothing more to say. Leave me alone.”

  “Abby, I want to help you. So tell me what’s bothering you, right now. Hear?”

  “How’s this?” She pointed her finger at Luke, trembling with rage, and her voice grew louder and shriller with every word. “I didn’t have a last name because my father ravished my mother. How’s that for truth?”

  Luke swallowed. He knew she had problems but never dreamed they were that bad. He wanted to hold her, comfort her. Yet he just stood there—unable to say a word.

  “We never knew who my real father was. Mama and I lived with my grandmother until Mama married Gary Willoughby. But Gary wasn’t willing to just have my mother and the four kids they had together; he wanted me, too, and not in a good way. If I hadn’t managed to get away from him each time like I did, I would have ended up just like Mama.” She glared at him. “Now you know.”

  “Oh, Abby, I’m so sorry. If only I’d known sooner.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Let me help you, please.”

  “I don’t need any help!” she shouted. “I never have. Get out of this house. I never want to see you again.”

  “This is my house—in case you forgot,” he said in a loud voice. “But I’m leaving, all right. I’m going out to break that mare of mine. She’s almost as stubborn as you are. But before I go, I want to know why you didn’t leave me a note at the hotel, telling me you were leaving and where you would be living.”

  “I left a note,” she countered. “Why didn’t you keep looking until you found it? Maybe it’s because you are a horrible person—just like Gary.”

  Luke walked out the kitchen door then. It slammed shut behind him.

  He’d always worked his wild two-year-old mare in the round pen so if he got pitched off, somebody would find him. Abby probably assumed that was where he was going, but today he wanted something different. He would work the mare in the brush some distance from the house and try to forget what she just said.

  There was a knock at the front door. Abby paused, hoping it wasn’t that woman from California. She pulled her shoulders back, opened the door, and stiffened.

  Sue Ann Reynolds stood on her front porch, the one who had started all the gossip as well as the girl who was standing in the shadows near the café on the day Abby arrived from Georgia. Abby was convinced that the church organist had strong feelings for Luke because her interest in him shone in her eyes whenever he was nearby.

  Was Sue Ann here for a catfight or for some other reason? If she came because she still wanted Luke, she could have him as far as Abby was concerned.

  “Come on in and sit down,” Abby said at last.

  “Thank you.” Sue Ann’s mouth turned up at the edges, but her eyes weren’t smiling. She ducked her head and sat down on the divan. “I came to apologize.”

  “Apologize?”

  “I’m sorry, Abby, for the trouble I’ve caused.” She looked down at her hands folded on her lap. “I—I started all the gossip and destroyed the letter you sent to Luke.”

  Abby couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She’d always known the gossip started the day Sue Ann saw Luke and Abby at the hotel at breakfast time. But she hadn’t known that Luke never got her letter or that Sue Ann was responsible for it.

  “Then Luke never got my letter?”

  “No, I dropped it in a trash can. But I am a different person now. I made Jesus the Lord of my life.”

  “You what?”

  “I’m saved,” Sue Ann said with an awed smile. Her face glowed with a new humble contentment. “I’d gone to church all my life. But Jim Turner, the blacksmith, introduced me to the one true God for the first time. Then Jim and I fell in love and are getting married in a few weeks. I’ve done some terrible things, but, please, forgive me, Abby. I hope we can be friends now.”

  Friends? Abby had offered Sue Ann friendship when she first arrived in town, and Sue Ann stabbed her in the back.

  “By the way,” Sue Ann said, “that Miss Franklin arrived on the stage today all the way from California, and she didn’t know that you and the children would be thrown out of your home. She seemed sorry and wants to meet you.”

  “She wants to meet me?” Abby put the palm of one hand against her chest as if she were somehow pushing Sue Ann’s words into her heart. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Abby was speechless. Two people actually said they were sorry for hurting her. Nobody but her mother, her grandmother, and of course Luke had ever done that, and she wanted to remember the moment forever.

  Though in some ways Sue Ann sounded like a fire-and-brimstone preacher, there was a warmth about her now and a kind of joy. Abby had only pretended to be happy. Apparently, Sue Ann was happy.

  “Jim said that his father died when he was small,” Sue Ann said. “But now that he invited the Lord into his heart, he has a heavenly Father.”

  Abby had never had a real father—and needed one, even if it meant forgiving someone like Gary. But this “being saved” business was new and seemed a little strange.

  “Would you like to go to heaven when you die?” Sue Ann asked.

  “Of course.” Abby shrugged. “Who wouldn’t? What do people have to
do to get there?”

  “Repent of all their sins and follow the Lord.”

  “Follow the Lord.” Abby leaned forward in her chair. “How would I do that—unless I had wings?”

  “If you want to follow the Lord, Abby, you do what Jesus did and what He said to do. First, you repent. Then you study God’s Word, the Bible, and believe it is true.” She paused. “Would you like for me to teach you the sinner’s prayer?”

  Abby froze, and a dash of resentment slowly blended with the uneasy feelings in the middle of her stomach. “Are you calling me a sinner?”

  “I’m calling everybody sinners, especially me. Nobody is perfect, and that’s why we need a Savior. Jesus paid for our sins on the cross so that we wouldn’t have to go to hell. He lived in heaven before He came to earth as a baby, you know, and Jesus knows how to get there.”

  Sue Ann gazed at her for a moment. Abby thought she might be praying. “Luke’s a good Christian man, Abby, and you are lucky to have him.”

  Abby nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall above Sue Ann’s head. It was almost four, and he’d been gone for what seemed like a long time. Did something happen? She started to get up.

  “I’ve kept you too long, haven’t I?” Sue Ann got up and stood by her chair. “Well, I have to go anyway. But I hope you will think about all I’ve said.”

  Abby looked away and nodded, gazing through the doorway to the back kitchen door—hoping—praying that she would see Luke standing there.

  She must also have walked Sue Ann to the front door and told her good-bye, but as Abby hurried out the back and headed for the round pen, she couldn’t remember doing it. All she could think about was Luke. She’d treated him badly with her counterfeit smiles. Yet she loved him with a passion.

  But when she got to the round pen, she discovered that Luke wasn’t working his mare. Surely he wasn’t riding an unbroken horse out in the brush somewhere. She prayed for his safety and was determined to find him.

  The wind had whipped up. The air was icy cold. Snow was rare in the Texas hill country. Yet a light snow carpeted the ground under her feet. She put her hands in the pockets of her brown coat, wishing she’d brought a coat for Luke. His light jacket wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm on this unusually frosty day in mid-December.

  Luke lay under a tree. She ran to him, and then she just stood there, afraid he might be dead. Her breath caught. She wanted to scream, and if she still had a heart, it was breaking.

  He was dead. She knew it. If only she hadn’t chased him away. Now it was too late to tell him how she really felt.

  “Oh, Luke, I love you so. Please, don’t die,” she said out loud. “I should have told you sooner, and I’m going to say the sinner’s prayer and follow Jesus. But I need you here with me.”

  He reached out and touched her hand.

  “You’re alive!” Tears moistened her eyes as she knelt down beside him.

  “Yes, Abby,” he said slowly, “and—and I love you, too. I have since the day we met.” He squeezed her hand.

  Then she smiled. Only this time, it came from her heart.

  “I got bucked off my mare.” His voice sounded stronger. “The breath was knocked plum out of me, but I’m gonna be fine.” He squeezed her hand again.

  She squeezed back. “I need to apologize for—”

  “No, Abby, you don’t. But it’s mighty cold out here. Your hands are like ice. Will you please lean over and kiss me before my mouth freezes shut?”

  Abby laughed, and she knew it came from her heart—just like her smile. Then she kissed him. It was a long kiss and full of love—a love that would last forever—and then some.

  Molly Noble Bull has a Texas cattle ranch background and once lived in the Texas hill country where her historical novella “Too Many Secrets” is set. She has published with Zondervan, Love Inspired, and others. Sanctuary, her long historical, won the 2008 Gayle Wilson Award in the inspirational category and tied for first place in a second national contest for published authors that year. Gatehaven, Molly’s gothic historical, won the grand prize in the 2013 Creation House Fiction Writing contest. When the Cowboy Rides Away won the 2016 Texas Association of Authors contest in the Christian Western category and was a finalist in the 2016 Will Rogers Awards for western writers in the Inspirational category. Please visit Molly’s website at www.mollynoblebull.com, her page at Amazon, http://bit.ly/mollynoblebull, and her page on Facebook, Facebook.com/molly.n.bull.

  Love in Store

  by Anita Mae Draper

  Dedication

  To my husband and kids who willingly took on household chores so that I could pursue my dream. I am humbled by your faith and support, and blessed that we’re a family.

  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

  1 JOHN 1:9

  Chapter 1

  Miles City, Montana

  1890

  Two long whistles warned Janet of the train’s departure, effectively stopping her from discussing the transportation schedule of her family’s freight delivery business. As she backed away from the mail car, the clerk raised his hand in her direction before sliding the large door closed. If only she could jump aboard and head down the rails to a distant destination.

  “Hey, Janet! What are you waiting for?” Neil yelled across the platform without caring who heard him.

  After a final look at the disappearing train, she hurried over to where Neil waited in their freight wagon.

  He released the brake as she neared. “If you weren’t my only sister, I’d leave you in the dust.”

  “Fine by me.” She raised her face to the sky, nose high, as she always did when he spoke nonsense. “I’m twenty-two and old enough. I’ll just catch the next train to Billings.”

  Clicking his tongue he got the team headed toward home. “You would, too, wouldn’t you?” His sidelong glance held a hint of concern. “It would kill Pa if you left.”

  “Which is why I’m still here.” Despite her dreams of leaving Miles City, she wouldn’t go while Pa was alive, and he wouldn’t leave with her as long as he had a business to run and sons to guide.

  Neil didn’t stop until he reached Hazelton’s store on the last block of Main Street near the bridge. He fished a crate out of the wagon and then carried it inside.

  Up in the seat, Janet held her back straight and her hands in her lap like a lady, in case Adam happened to notice she was there. A minute later, he accompanied Neil out onto the wide sidewalk in front of his store.

  Her heart fluttered. She didn’t need to see his face to know his eyes were gunmetal gray.

  “Two more and that’s it for this load,” Neil said.

  Janet shifted, her gaze catching Adam’s long-legged movements beneath the brim of her slouch hat. Wide shouldered and muscular, he carried a crate into his store with ease.

  She peered through the large window for a final sight of him, but the reflection of a large tree across the road distorted her view. On several occasions she’d spotted Adam lounging against that tree with a book or magazine in hand. One of these days she would stop and start a discussion on whatever topic had caught his attention. If only she had the nerve to do it.

  “I’ll stop by in the morning and pick that up,” Neil said, his voice breaking into her musings.

  “Good enough,” Adam replied.

  Janet turned her head to smile at him in greeting—but he’d already gone back inside.

  With her spine straight and her chin up, she reminded herself that there was always the train, and no matter which direction, it was on its way somewhere.

  The following morning after she’d cleared breakfast away, Janet walked across the yard from their large, two-story house to the building where the family worked their freight business. She found Pa and Ben standing in front of the wide sliding doors of the wagon room.

  A burly man who said what was on his mind, Ebenezer Smith laid his hand on his eldest son�
��s shoulder. “Be on your guard, Ben, and don’t let your brother talk you into any side trips to see that girl he’s mooning over.”

  Ben pulled on his leather gloves. He nodded. “I hear you, Pa. We won’t be dallying on the way home.”

  As Neil approached with the team, Janet handed the meal sack to Ben. “There’s enough for three days if you’re careful. God be with you.”

  “Thanks, sis.” He kissed her cheek as he always did before leaving. As the oldest son, Ben had spent the most time with Ma before she’d gone to heaven, and her passing had left him with a deep commitment to the family. A few years ago, his own wife had joined Ma. Ben accepted each day as a gift, showing his love in small ways that gave hope to Janet’s quest for a loving husband who did the same.

  Neil, on the other hand, was like a stubborn splinter she couldn’t dislodge. Hands on his hips, he scrutinized her face. “How’d you get ink on your face already? You haven’t been in the office yet.”

  Janet stood her ground, knowing her face was as clean as it had been after she’d washed it earlier that morning. She would have liked to stick her tongue out, except Pa was hitching up the team behind Neil and could look up at any moment. “Enjoy your trip.”

  “Where’s Jack?” Pa asked.

  “Coming.” Jack carried in a small barrel, which he proceeded to tie down in the back of the wagon. “You’re all loaded except for whatever Hazelton has going out. Don’t forget to stop by his store.”

  Janet’s heart lurched at the sound of Adam’s name. No matter how many times she told herself that the man wasn’t interested, she couldn’t get her heart to listen.

  She headed into her office as soon as the team pulled away. She didn’t want to change the ribbon on her typewriter machine because of the mess it made of her, but it had reached the end of the spool and she had paperwork waiting to be processed. If she did get covered in ink, at least she’d have three days to scrub it off before Neil came back to bug her about it.