by Karen Kirst
“I hope not. We’re wasting valuable daylight.”
“This is all I got.” He held up a handsaw.
Josh sighed, feeling a headache coming on. “If that’s true, we’ll be here a week.” His fingers closed around the handle of a large ax. “Aha. I don’t remember packing this, but it sure is gonna come in handy. I wonder how it got there.”
“The memory is the first thing to go in old age, I’ve heard.” Caleb shot him a mocking smirk.
“Is that so? Since you think you’re so clever, I’ll let you have the first shot at that monster.”
Holding out the ax, he suppressed a grin at the resulting scowl on his little brother’s face. If nothing else, this trip was going to give them some uninterrupted time together.
Kate strode briskly down the lane, bonnet ribbons whipping in the breeze, heels clomping on the leaf-strewn bridge leading into town. Her walk had proved uneventful. Nevertheless, she was grateful when the church spire came into view. People meant safety.
Turning the corner of the barbershop, she bumped into someone and was knocked backward. A man’s hand seized her arm. She gasped.
“Watch where you’re goin’, missy,” a wizened voice complained.
Hand pressed against her chest, she glanced at the speaker and tried to place his face. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. For a split second, she’d thought of Tyler…
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t see you—”
“Of course you didn’t,” he snapped, straightening his bowler hat. “How could you with your eyes on the clouds?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t had the honor of your acquaintance. I’m Kate Morgan.”
He ignored her outstretched hand. “Fulton. Chadwick Fulton.”
Tugging down his suit jacket with a harrumph, he stomped past her. Lips parted in surprise, she lowered her hand and turned to watch him go. Interesting.
With a shrug, Kate continued toward the mercantile, taking in the length of Main Street. Her mother and sister would be scandalized at the lack of boutiques and shops in this town. She didn’t mind, however. The only time she truly liked to shop was at Christmastime, when she would get a list of needy children’s names from the church secretary and spend days searching for just the right gifts. Her only regret was not being there to watch them open their packages on Christmas morning.
A big For Sale sign directly across the street caught her eye. It was propped in the picture window of what looked like an unoccupied store. Waiting until a wagon passed by, she lifted her skirts and hurried to the other side. She glanced up and down the boardwalk. People milled about, but she didn’t recognize anyone.
With one hand over her eyes to block the light, Kate peered inside. A wide, spacious room stood empty. Dust coated the floorboards and the bare shelves lining the back wall. Images flashed through her head—a curtained off area for taking portraits, a back room for developing prints, more shelving to hold her camera equipment.
She gasped aloud and stepped back. A portrait studio? Here? In Gatlinburg, Tennessee?
It wouldn’t work. She wasn’t that brave. Oh, she’d toyed with the notion for a year or more, but fear of her parents’ reaction had held her back. A Morgan heiress working as a common laborer? The mere thought of the resulting uproar made her feel slightly ill.
Her parents expected her to be home by the time they returned from Europe. They had already informed her of their intentions to find her a suitable husband—someone educated and wealthy who traveled in the same social circles. Someone like Percy, Fran’s husband.
In her mother’s mind, their money and connections would more than compensate for Kate’s lack of purity.
Georgia’s cold words haunted her to this day. Tell no one of what you’ve done, Katerina. No man will accept a young woman of loose morals. Wesley obviously wasn’t impressed. We’ll have to find someone else. Once you’re married, it will be too late for the hapless fool to back out.
Her mother expected her to hide the truth until it was too late.
Kate’s conscience balked at such a prospect. An omission like that had the potential to destroy the trust between husband and wife.
No, if she couldn’t have a family of her own, then she’d pursue a career.
If she stayed in East Tennessee, she’d be free to choose her own path. Make her own choices.
Of course, she couldn’t live in Josh’s cabin forever. She’d have to start fresh, find a permanent place to live. She had a sizable amount of money at her disposal, enough to sustain her for a year or more, and that wasn’t including the inheritance she’d receive on her twenty-first birthday. Imagine, a home of her very own. And a profession she loved.
As she walked back to the cabin, the basket of goods in her hand, thoughts of the future filled her mind. The way she saw it, she had two choices—return to her old life or stay here and create a new one.
The decision was simple.
Josh and Caleb rolled into Gatlinburg midmorning on Saturday. The downed tree had cost them half a day’s travel time, delaying their return. Josh was tired, hungry and in need of a bath and a shave. But he was glad to be back.
As eager as he was to pay a visit to Chad Fulton, first he had to see Kate. Knowing her, she was worrying about his prolonged absence. And he needed to see for himself that she was safe.
When the wagon came abreast of his future furniture store, he glanced over and got the shock of his life. What was Kate doing in there?
Yanking on the reins, he guided the team to the side of the street. Caleb shot him a sharp look.
“I need to speak with Kate.” He leaped down. “Would you mind waitin’ a spell?”
“Never mind.” He climbed down the other side. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
Josh made it to the door in four long strides. She glanced up at the sound of the bell, her eyes widening at the sight of him. A bell? Since when had Fulton installed a bell?
“Josh!” Straightening from her spot in the midst of a mountain of trunks and crates, she approached him with a welcoming smile.
“I’m so happy you’re back! When you didn’t return last night, I started imagining all sorts of terrible things.”
He hesitated, his befuddled brain trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”
She laughed. “No, I’m not lost.”
“Were you looking for Mr. Fulton? Do you need to speak to him about something?”
“My business with Mr. Fulton is complete.”
“What business?”
She splayed her hand wide. “I’m a new business owner.”
As her words penetrated, his gaze shot to her face. She looked nervous. Expectant.
“I don’t understand.”
“I bought this place. You are standing in what is now my portrait studio.”
Josh floundered for a response. Was he having a nightmare?
“I thought you were going back to New York in a couple of weeks.”
She crossed her arms in front of her like a shield, making her appear small and vulnerable. “I’ve decided to make Gatlinburg my home.”
Arms at his sides, he wandered past her farther into the room. The room that was supposed to have held his furniture was instead piled with camera equipment.
His heart felt heavy, like a lead weight in his chest. Each breath was painful. So much for his grand plans.
First Francesca had crushed his dream of a family. And just when he was about to realize his dream of a business, Kate stepped in to rob him of it.
A sigh ripped from his chest. He plunged his hands in his hair, mussing it further.
No. She wasn’t to blame. She’d had no clue what his intentions were regarding this place. It was hi
s fault for not sharing them with her.
When she spoke, he had to strain to hear her quiet words. “I’ve already spoken with the Copelands. They will have a room to let next week. You’ll soon have your cabin back.”
Pivoting, he regarded her downturned face. “How am I supposed to honor my promise with you living in town?”
“Your promise?” Her head came up.
“To protect you.”
“I suppose I’ll have to release you of it. It isn’t your job to protect me.”
“I can’t accept that.”
Shrugging, she returned to the trunks. “What’s done is done. I’ve already made the arrangements.”
Rubbing the itchy bristle on his jaws, Josh said, “Look, I’m not in the best frame of mind right now. I’m in dire need of a decent meal and strong coffee. We’ll finish this conversation later.”
He needed time to sort through the implications of her decision. To figure out where to go from here.
“Fine.” She didn’t look up when he left, and it wasn’t until he reached the barn that he realized he’d left her there alone. What if Matthews waited till she started down their lonely lane to make his move?
Spying his brother already mounted on Chance, he waved him down. “Nathan, I need a favor.”
Chapter Twelve
That did not go well. Hurt by Josh’s cold reaction to her news, Kate stared unseeing out the plate-glass window overlooking Main Street. Weren’t friends supposed to celebrate each other’s good fortunes?
Perhaps he’d been merely tolerating her presence here. After all, she’d indicated that her stay was temporary. And she was Fran’s sister. When Josh looked at her, he must automatically think of the grief Fran had caused him. The thought saddened her.
The bell jingled. In the doorway stood Nathan, looking more solemn than she’d ever seen him. Sweeping off his hat, he nodded in greeting.
“Mornin’.”
“Nathan.” She tried to muster up a smile, but couldn’t. “What can I do for you?”
“Josh wanted me to check on you and ask when you planned on coming home so one of us could escort you.”
“Why does he pretend to care?” she blurted out, blood rushing to her face. “I already told him not to bother.”
She turned her back, blinking fast to fight back tears and the unexpected rush of emotion. Nathan’s boots clomped on the weathered planks as he moved closer.
“Kate,” he began hesitantly, “I, uh, think there’s something you should know. Something Josh would never tell you himself.”
She wiped the moisture from her eyes and turned back. “What is it?”
Nathan’s kind eyes held a hint of regret. “He’s been making plans for quite a while to expand his business.”
“I know. He told me.”
“When Mr. Fulton decided to retire and close up his law practice, Josh approached him about purchasing this place. Fulton knew he was close to having the full amount, but refused to hold it. My father offered to lend Josh the money, but he wouldn’t accept it.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know what is going on between you two, but I know my brother. He cares about you.”
Closing her eyes, Kate pressed her palm over her heart.
Oh, no. It couldn’t be.
He must despise her! First Fran’s betrayal and now this…
“Wh-why didn’t he tell me?” she whispered.
“He wouldn’t want you to feel bad.”
No wonder he’d reacted the way he did! He must’ve been in shock. Seeing his dreams fall to the wayside a second time. Now both Morgan sisters had dealt him a cruel blow.
“Please, I need to be alone,” she managed, not daring to meet his gaze.
“He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.”
She stared at the floor, unable to come up with a response.
His boots shifted. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll be in town for a while. I’ll stop back by later and see if you need anything.”
The door closed behind him. The resulting silence was oppressive.
Kate sank to the floor and, burying her head in her hands, burst into tears.
Kate locked up the studio three-quarters of an hour later. She rushed down the street, head down, in an effort to avoid eye contact with passersby. No doubt her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and she wasn’t in the mood to answer questions her appearance would surely spawn.
Determination fueled her long strides. She had bought the store from Mr. Fulton. There was no reason why she couldn’t turn around and sell it to Josh.
He had his heart set on opening a furniture store. She would not stand in his way.
She found him in his workshop, standing idly behind his worktable and looking as if he hadn’t a clue what to do next. He’d changed out of his rumpled travel clothes and into a pair of pressed jeans and a shirt that matched his eyes. He’d shaved, his goatee neat as ever, and his hair was damp from a recent wash. The pleasing scent of soap mixed with the pungent odors of pine and varnish.
His awkward attempt at a smile brought a fresh wave of tears.
“You’ve been crying.” A wrinkle forming between his brows, he came around the table but didn’t move to touch her. “Matthews didn’t—”
“I know about your plans for the furniture store,” she said, hiking up her chin. “Nathan told me.”
A shutter descended over his expression. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“He shouldn’t have had to. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It doesn’t matter now. It obviously wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re wrong.” She pulled the bill of sale out of her reticule and held it out. “I’m going to sell the space to you.”
His eyes widened. Palms face up, he shook his head. “Sorry, not interested.”
Planting one hand on her hip, Kate ignored his assertion. “You’ve been working toward this for a long time. I wouldn’t have bought it, had I known. Surely you believe that?”
“I do. And just as you don’t want to stand in the way of my dreams, neither do I want to keep you from yours.” He jerked his head at the paper she dangled in front of him. “Put that away. The place is yours.”
“Don’t be stubborn. I refuse—”
She broke off when he snatched the document from her fingers and, carefully refolding it, tucked it back inside her reticule hanging from her wrist. Hands on his hips, his eyes challenged her. “Does your studio have a name?”
“You will not have the final say in this.”
“I’m not buying the space from you, Kate.”
They stood nearly toe-to-toe, gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. Her mouth thinned with displeasure, a darker emotion similar to desperation lurking beneath the surface. This conversation was not going the way she’d planned. Why was he being so stubborn?
How could she enjoy her new venture, knowing she’d denied him his dream?
“This has been an upsetting morning for both of us.” Pivoting away from him, she stalked to the door, only to turn back at the last moment. “I’m not accepting this as your final answer. Take some time to think it over.”
She swept out the door before he could respond. Chances were she didn’t want to hear what he had to say anyway.
Not in the mood to return to her studio, Kate decided to take a stroll around the farm. Her focus was turned inward, and she didn’t look up as she usually did to drink in the beauty and majesty of the mountains towering above her. When she tired of walking, she entered the orchard and sank down at the base of an apple tree to rest. She’d brought a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma along, and, pulling it from her pocket, attempted to read.
But she couldn’t c
oncentrate.
The defeat in Josh’s eyes tormented her. Somehow, someway, she had to make him agree to her suggestion.
“Kate?”
Twisting to look up the low rise, she spotted him. “I’m here.”
Josh came to her, bending at the waist to peer at her beneath the low branches. “You missed lunch. I was worried.”
Setting her book aside, she folded her hands in her lap. “I lost track of time. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
He slipped his hat off and, crouching low, moved to sit opposite her. He skimmed his hair with an impatient hand and dropped his hat in his lap. “I know my reaction to your new studio wasn’t what you’d expected. I was surprised.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for that. But I meant what I said earlier. I want you to have the store. This is your birthplace. Your family and friends are here.” She hitched a shoulder. “I can go anywhere to open a studio.”
“Tell me something.” His blue eyes quizzed her. “Why Gatlinburg?”
“I love it here. These mountains speak to my soul. I see God’s fingerprint everywhere I look.” She spread her hands wide. “There’s a feeling I have when I’m in the forest that I haven’t experienced anywhere else. When I’m surrounded by endless trees and hushed stillness, I don’t ever want to leave. You probably think that’s ridiculous.” She laughed self-consciously.
“Not at all. In fact, I feel the same way. Still, life is different here.”
“I’m aware of that.”
He stared hard at her. “I think, after a time, you’d miss the creature comforts of city life.”
“I’m not Francesca.”
“I know that,” he responded evenly. “But you and she had the same upbringing.”
“Simply because we are siblings doesn’t mean we share the same values. Do you and your brothers all have the same opinion about everything?”
He set his jaw. “No, we don’t.”
“You see?”
“I don’t think you comprehend the reality of living without servants to cater to your every need. Out here, dinner doesn’t just appear on the table every night. If you want something to eat, you gotta go out to the garden and pick it yourself. You have to choose one of your livestock or hunt down a wild animal and, once you’ve killed it, bleed it dry, skin, carve and cook it. Then you get to eat.” His serious gaze challenged her. “Do you know how to cook?”