Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star HeiressThe Lawman's Oklahoma SweetheartThe Gentleman's Bride SearchFamily on the Range

by Griggs, Winnie; Pleiter, Allie; Hale, Deborah; Nelson, Jessica

He nodded and jammed his hat back on his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mitch marched around the house, trying to figure out just what he’d say. He still hadn’t settled on the right words when he caught sight of her.

  She spotted him at the same time, and the welcome smile on her face gave him hope.

  “Mitch, hello. Come see the size of these tomatoes.”

  “Very nice. But it’s you I’m here to see.”

  Something flashed in her eyes and he prayed it was love. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Yes. You can marry me.”

  She frowned, and this time it was sadness in her eyes. He winced, knowing he was the one who’d put that there.

  She turned away, tugging another tomato from the plant. “Please, I’ve told you how I feel. Let’s not go through it again.”

  “No, we haven’t been through this before. I want to marry you. Not because I feel I have to. Not because I feel responsible for you. But because I love you.”

  She shook her head vehemently, not turning around. “Stop. I know you think this is the right thing to do, but I can’t bear it.” She turned to face him and he was almost undone by the pain glistening in her eyes. “You’re a good man, but you have to accept that you can’t fix every problem—the gossip has all but died down, the inheritance is settled, Nana Dovie and I are happier than we’ve been in a long time. And much of this is thanks to you.”

  She took a deep breath. “As for what I said the other day, I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I’m happy to have you as a dear friend. So please, don’t throw yourself on your sword over this.”

  “You’re not listening.” He took hold of her arms. “I. Love. You.”

  Her eyes searched his face and he hoped she could see what he truly felt.

  “But I thought you never wanted to marry again.”

  “So did I. Then you came into my life, and everything changed. I’ve fought it for as long as I can. I may not deserve you but I’ve finally realized I can’t go on without you.”

  *

  Ivy was afraid to believe what she was hearing, though she very much wanted to. This had to be just another way he’d found to help her, whether she wanted that help or not.

  “But I’m not the kind of woman you’re drawn to—I’m not gentle or delicate.”

  “True. In fact, you’re the most stubborn, down-to-earth, speak-your-mind female I’ve ever met. And you’re also strong, generous, spirited, courageous and sensitive to the hurts of others. You’d willingly sacrifice yourself in marriage to a wretchedly cruel and selfish man to save your dear friend’s refuge. And you are quick to extend grace and forgiveness to those who have wronged you.”

  The look in his eyes as he uttered those beautiful words chipped away at her resistance. Could he really mean what he was saying?

  His hands slid down her arms, his fingers twining with hers. “What you are is the woman I love. And you’re absolutely right. This community has accepted you so there’s no reason that you have to marry me. Except that I’ll be totally and completely lost without you.”

  He gave a crooked smile. “Marry me so you can bring color and life to my home, which seems so unbearably empty without you. Marry me so you can enjoy that swing in my backyard that seems so forlorn now. Marry me to tend to my garden and decorate my yard with riots of flowers. But most of all, marry me because I love you with all that I am.”

  He traced the line of her jaw with a finger as tears slid down her cheeks.

  “I love you, Ivy Kathleen Feagan. I’ve been every kind of fool and I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it. But I promise to say those words to you every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

  This time there was no doubting the truth. It was there in his words, in the slight tremble of his fingers, in the ragged emotion shining from his eyes.

  She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Oh, Mitch, I love you so much. It would make me very, very happy to spend the rest of my days as your wife.”

  With that, he pulled her into a hug and twirled her around. Then he set her on the ground again and very gently bent down to give her a kiss. A kiss that promised he would love, protect and cherish her, now and forever.

  He was her hero, the man who would fearlessly slay all of her dragons and quietly make all of her dreams come true.

  Epilogue

  Mitch studied his new bride across the expanse of Eileen Pierce’s backyard, not caring if his expression reflected how hopelessly smitten he was. He still couldn’t quite believe Ivy was well and truly his at last.

  The wedding service, which had been held at Mrs. Pierce’s place so Nana Dovie could comfortably attend, had ended nearly an hour ago and it seemed as if he’d barely been able to say two words to Ivy since. He tried to tell himself to be patient—after all, he had the rest of his life to spend with her—but he decided he’d been patient long enough. Excusing himself from the discussion with Dr. Pratt and Sheriff Gleason, he circulated through the crowd with purpose, closing in on his bride.

  After a half dozen stops to accept congratulatory slaps on the back, Mitch finally made it to her side. The warm smile with which she greeted him set his pulse racing. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “What do you think, Mrs. Parker—is it too early for us to make our exit?”

  Her low, throaty laugh had him wanting to tug her to him for a proper kiss.

  But before she could give him an answer, Reggie approached. “There you are. I’m ready to take photographs of the happy couple if you’ll spare me a few minutes.”

  Ivy shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand before turning to Reggie. “Of course. Just tell us what to do.”

  “I’m set up right over there.” Reggie led the way to the flower-bedecked arch where they’d recited their vows earlier. Along the way, Ivy squeezed his arm and nodded off to her left. “I do believe Mrs. Swenson has found a new object for her affection.”

  Mitch glanced in the direction she’d indicated and smiled. Mrs. Swenson was engaged in conversation with Carter Mosley of all people, and the two seemed to have more than a passing enjoyment of each other’s company.

  A few moments later, Reggie was fussily posing Mitch and Ivy while some of the guests drifted over to watch. At last, Reggie was satisfied and she took two photographs—one with just the two of them, and one with Nana Dovie between them.

  “I wish your sisters could have come,” Ivy said. “Then we could have a true family photograph.”

  “They’re eager to meet you, as well.” Mitch dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll plan some trips soon.” He knew his sisters were going to love Ivy, and she them. But he hadn’t wanted to wait a moment longer than he had to for the wedding.

  His plans to lead his bride away were foiled yet again when Reggie stopped him. “If you don’t mind, there’s one more photograph I’d like to take. And this one’s for me.”

  Mitch raised a brow. “You want a picture of me and Ivy?”

  “Not exactly.” She turned and glanced to the folks gathered behind her. “Adam, Everett, Chance—you three come over here and stand next to Mitch.”

  Adam raised a brow. “What are you up to?”

  Reggie took Adam’s hand, then looked at the four men. “I remember when you all first arrived here two years ago—and I know we didn’t see eye to eye back then. But this town is the better for all of you being here, and I am, too.” She pitched her voice so only they could hear. “I’d like to have a picture of my three would-be grooms, and my one true love, to hang on my wall.”

  As Mitch stood shoulder to shoulder with his friends, he thought again how they’d all set out to find fresh starts here in Turnabout.

  What they’d found was so much more than any of them had ever expected—a community that welcomed them in with open arms. And more importantly, good women to cherish and be cherished by, and to build their lives and futures with.

  He met Ivy’s warm ga
ze and thanked God again for not giving up on him when he’d given up on himself, for leading him here to Turnabout and for bringing Ivy into his life to show him how to love and laugh again.

  The flash of Reggie’s camera released him from his pose and he marched toward his wife and captured her hand in his. “Time to go,” he said.

  She laughed. “Is everything ready?”

  “The hamper and bags are already in the carriage.”

  “What about the fishing poles?”

  “They’re there, as well.”

  “And you’re sure Reggie doesn’t mind us borrowing her cabin.”

  “She insisted. After all, I never did get in that week I’d planned on.”

  “I hope you’re not looking for peace and quiet this time out.”

  “No, ma’am. This time I’m looking for excitement and adventure.” He grinned. “I even have the materials to construct one fine tree swing. Ready?”

  She nodded, and hand in hand, they slipped away, together, the way Mitch intended them to be forever.

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE LAWMAN’S OKLAHOMA SWEETHEART by Allie Pleiter.

  Dear Reader,

  I’ve had a wonderful time writing the Texas Grooms series and I hope you’ve enjoyed the stories, as well. I have to admit, though, that Mitch’s story was by far the most difficult of the four to write. He was such an enigmatic character to me throughout the series. I knew he had some serious hurts in his past and that he carried a lot of guilt around, but the particulars stayed hidden for a long time.

  When I finally discovered the source of his wound, I then had to find the right heroine for him, one who could bring light back into his life, who could help him recapture his belief in himself and his faith in God. And I think I found her in Ivy Feagan—a woman who is an interesting mix of empathy, courage and levelheadedness. From the moment she stepped up and introduced herself to me I knew this was the lady for Mitch.

  This is not the last of my visits to Turnabout. I’m currently working on books that will follow the lives of some of the townsfolk who will be familiar to those who have been following these books. For more information, please visit my website at www.winniegriggs.com or follow me on facebook at www.facebook.com/WinnieGriggs.Author.

  And as always, I’d love to hear from readers. Feel free to contact me at winnie@winniegriggs.com with your thoughts on this or any other of my books.

  Wishing you a life abounding with love and blessings.

  Winnie Griggs

  Questions for Discussion

  Ivy first appears on the scene dressed in male clothing, traveling alone through the woods on a trip to a place she’s never been. What sort of opinions or conclusions did you draw about her based on this opening?

  Mitch traveled to the cabin for some solitude, yet he seemed to adjust well to Ivy’s intrusion. Why do you think that was?

  While at the cabin, Ivy seemed to think Mitch was going overboard with his insistence on a strict adherence to the proprieties. Do you agree with her? Why or why not?

  Why do you think Drum Mosley never told his nephew, Carter, about the change to his will? Do you think he was right to withhold the information?

  Why do you think Ivy was so insistent about putting in a garden for Mitch?

  What did you think of Mitch’s interaction with Ivy’s dog, Rufus? Do you think it said anything about his character, and if so, what?

  Was Ivy’s almost instant trust of Mitch believable given the situation? Why or why not?

  What was your first impression of Eileen Pierce? How did this change over time?

  Did Carter’s eventual change of heart regarding Ivy’s sharing the inheritance ring true to you?

  Do you think Ivy was foolish to leave town with Lester and his sister given their history? Why or why not?

  Though they didn’t have a name for it during this time period, Nana Dovie was obviously suffering from agoraphobia. Have you ever encountered anyone with this condition before? Did the way they finally got Nana Dovie to leave her home and travel to Turnabout seem believable to you?

  Why do you think it took Mitch so long to admit he loved Ivy?

  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

  Brave Rock, Oklahoma Territory

  June 1889

  Fast wasn’t fast enough.

  Clint Thornton ignored the knot of iron tightening in his gut. He told his fear to go away, to stop growing colder and heavier with each minute, each uncrossed acre, each dangerous stretch of land between himself and the Brinkerhoff homestead. Oklahoma was hot and dry in June. A fire could turn deadly in a split second. And the fastest fire of all was one that had been set to kill.

  He bent over his horse, boots digging into the animal’s flanks. Faster. Clint’s breath tightened to short, hard gasps. If he failed, Katrine would soon be gasping as well, lungs frantic for air, throat singed by the heat, chest bound by the dread of a cabin burning around her. The men threatening the homestead were once soldiers, after all, men trained in the taking of lives. A renegade soldier was a dangerous man indeed. Clint had learned they were seeking to burn a cabin to the ground tonight, but only when he’d followed a gut instinct to check on the Brinkerhoff place had he learned the blood-chilling truth.

  Snapping his reins against the horse’s sweating flesh, Clint pressed on toward the four torchlights circling the tiny, nearly finished dwelling in the middle-of-the-night darkness just over the hill.

  Katrine had nothing to do with any of this, but that wouldn’t stop the cavalrymen or the flames they were about to set. They were looking to kill her brother, Lars, the witness to their crimes, and if she happened to die as well it would be of no consequence to them.

  Clint yelled out to the men, hoping to distract them and buy Katrine more time, but he was still too far away for them to hear. The knot in his gut seemed to constrict around his whole body as he watched the leader of those men. In a cruel trick of moonlight, Clint saw Samuel McGraw casually, almost amusingly, touch his torch to the roof of a shed next to the cabin. Air fled Clint’s lungs in a helpless whoosh that seemed to say “too late.”

  No. It could not be too late. Clint yelled, “McGraw!” once, then louder, jabbing the horse with frantic boot heels. “McGraw!” Some survival instinct took over from there, turning his voice to one of conspiratorial indifference even as his insides were going off like cannons at the thought of Katrine trapped in the smoke. Even as he watched embers float lazily from the shed to settle and ignite on the homestead roof. “McGraw, it’s Thornton. Hold on there!”

  Finally he was close enough to see McGraw’s face as he handed his torch to another man and peered in Clint’s direction. “Thornton?”

  Clint kept at full gallop the last few feet into the homestead yard, even as the fire began lapping up the structure’s roof. “There’s men behind me,” he panted, hoping his breathlessness would come off as strain, not fear. “Just up over the ridge. Go.” He pulled on the reins as his horse made uneasy circles, spooked by the growing fire. “Get yourselves gone. I’ll cover. I’ll say the place was burning when I came up on it.”

  He needed them to believe he was on their side if his plan to infiltrate the Black Four gang would ever work. But he also needed them to leave so he could save Katrine. McGraw, evidently one to see a job done, didn’t seem
too eager to be gone. Clint’s heartbeat pounded ice against the heat now flushing his face. The ice threatened to swallow him altogether when he heard the sound of a bang from inside. It did swallow him when he saw the plank the soldiers had nailed across the homestead door.

  “Get on out of here,” he insisted as hard as he dared. “I’ve reason to be here, you don’t. I’ll cover for you but it won’t do one lick of good in five minutes if you’re not gone.”

  “He’s right,” Bryson Reeves, another of McGraw’s cronies, said as he tossed his torch into the little set of rosebushes Katrine had optimistically planted along the east wall. Clint felt them burning as if the flames nipped at his own throat. “Let’s get gone, Sam.”

  Clint flung himself down off his horse with what he hoped looked like indifference. Every inch between him and that barred front door yawned long and deadly. He gestured over the ridge he’d just rushed down. “Land sakes, McGraw, are you waitin’ for an invitation? Go!”

  McGraw considered for an excruciating moment, Clint’s throat turning to knots as he heard yet another sound from within. The Brinkerhoff homestead held no windows, no way out but the door barred behind him. He thought he heard a cough and imagined Katrine sinking to the floor, her pale hands clasping at her throat. He felt the heat of the flames prickle the back of his neck. The urge to rush over there and physically push McGraw off toward the river nearly overpowered him. He heard a small, insistent thud from the side of the house away from the men and for a terrible moment imagined he was hearing Katrine’s body hit the wall.

  Then he remembered the logs. The loose two logs on the far side of the house, the ones Katrine was always complaining let the wind in to chill the room. He heard more thuds and realized she was trying to kick them out. Kick, he pleaded to her silently as his hands fisted in frustration. Keep kicking.

  “I’m handin’ you a gift here, McGraw. Are you too dumb to take it? You’ve got four minutes, maybe five afore those men behind me catch up and see you standin’ here with torches while this shack burns.”

  “Fine!” McGraw pronounced after what felt like a year, turning his horse and waving his henchmen to ride off.