by Ford, Linda
Cradling her face in his palms, he gently thumbed them away. “I would give my life to protect you.”
Curling her fingers around his wrists, she gazed up at him as if he were a knight of old, a valiant hero come to rescue her. His chest swelled with fierce satisfaction and purpose. As long as there remained breath in his body, he would give everything he had to protect her and love her all of his days.
“Cole, promise me that from now on, you will be upfront with me. I can handle anything but losing you.”
He suddenly became aware of their audience, and, seizing her hand, tugged her toward the door. “I am not having this conversation in a jail,” he growled, desperate to bare his heart to her alone. To know, once and for all, if she’d have him or no. And he would not discuss it with his brother-in-law and the town sheriff looking on.
* * *
“Where are we going?” Rachel asked breathlessly as her husband, determined and seemingly unaware of folks’ open-mouthed stares and exclamations, hurried her along Main Street.
“Somewhere away from prying eyes.” His gaze swept both sides before alighting on the church in the distance. A satisfied smile curving his mouth, he squeezed her hand. “Perfect.”
The brisk breeze brushing her cheeks did not cool her inner fire, the soaring euphoria incited by the promise in Cole’s eyes. This was like a dream. Her husband was a free man, his good name restored. Later she would deal with the grief her father’s betrayal had caused her. For now, it was enough that Cole was here with her.
Rushing her up the steps and inside the dim building, he shoved the door closed and, taking both her hands, pulled her farther inside, his hazel eyes shining brighter than the rainbow cascade glittering through the stained-glass windows. The hushed space bedecked with ribbons and garlands, holly berries and candles smelled of hearty pine and fresh hay. Cole’s backdrops transformed the stage into a starry night in Bethlehem, the ancient village dwellings painted with impressive detail. Tonight, cherished hymns of exultation would fill this place, the treasured recounting of Jesus’s birth once again brought to life.
“Rachel.”
Standing very near, Cole continued to hold her hands in his. Calm and assurance radiated from his tall form, his eyes clear and warm as his gaze caressed her. His ever-present guard nowhere in sight. The unbridled emotion in his eyes took her breath away, weakened her knees.
“Two years ago we stood in this church and pledged our lives to each other. Not because it was our choice, but because it was expected. I didn’t realize until recently what a gift God gave me that day. I wish I’d never left you.” His voice roughened, the joy dimmed in his eyes.
“Cole—” She edged closer, wanting to assure him of her forgiveness.
“If I could rewrite the past, I would have been here for you and Abigail. I wouldn’t have spent a minute away from your side,” he insisted.
“I know.” She couldn’t dwell on his absence, not when he was standing here before her, vibrant and alive and whole...because he wanted to be. She could only be grateful beyond words he’d come home. If he hadn’t... Her mind refused to go there. Too excruciating.
“I’m not scared anymore,” he murmured, releasing her hands to set his on the curve of her waist, his fingers flexing against her. He eased her to him. “I love you, Rachel. I want to spend the remainder of my days proving just how much.”
Looping her arms about his neck, she leaned into him and lifted her face to his. “I’d like nothing better.”
His gaze flared, darkened, as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. The soft yet insistent pressure of his lips, his all-encompassing heat as his hold on her tightened, the restrained strength of his embrace, fused together in one glorious sensation of homecoming. In Cole’s arms was where she belonged. Always. Here, she was safe. Cherished. Loved.
He was hers, and she was his. One before God.
When he lifted his head long moments later, she said aloud the words she’d said in her heart almost from the very beginning. “I love you, Cole. You are everything my heart wants.”
His brilliant smile nearly blinded her. “Marry me,” he blurted.
“What are you talking about?” she laughed.
Startling her, he slid his finger beneath the collar of her blouse, snagged the necklace she wore hidden from view and held up her wedding ring. “Marry me a second time. Right here in this church. But this time, do it because you want me as your husband. Because you love me.”
His voice deepened over the word love, his eyes intense with need. This was important to him.
“How did you know about the ring?”
“I spotted it the night Abby got sick. You were asleep in the rocking chair.”
Ah. The night he’d kissed her awake. She trembled with the memories of that and his recent kiss. “You gave it to me moments before we exchanged vows. I couldn’t bear to part with it, even if just to store it in my jewelry box. I wanted it with me, close but hidden. A reminder of you.”
“Will you allow me to place it on your finger once more?”
When she moved to unclasp the necklace, he stayed her movements. “Not now. Tomorrow. At our wedding. This time, I want the whole town to witness our union.”
She smiled then, delighted at the notion, her heart bursting at the seams. “I’d gladly marry you anytime, anywhere.”
And then Rachel kissed him without reservation, deliriously happy that she no longer had to conceal her love. Tomorrow, on Christmas Day, two years to the day after their first wedding, she would walk down this aisle an eager bride. Cole would be waiting for her, ready and willing to renew his pledge to her. A family again, the three of them together on life’s journey.
Epilogue
One year later
Cole sank carefully down on the edge of the bed beside his wife, unable to speak for the emotions expanding his chest—awe and pride and stark, cold fear. His anxious gaze swept her face, her damp forehead and rosy cheeks, her trembling yet smiling mouth, searching for the slightest sign of distress.
“I’m perfectly fine, darling.” She lifted luminous blue eyes to his, her lips curving up in a smile so tender and sweet it made him want to weep. After what she’d just endured, why wasn’t she crying?
Holding himself perfectly still, not daring to touch her, he cleared his throat. “Are you sure?”
“I would know if something was wrong.”
“As would I,” Dr. Owens spoke over his shoulder as he placed the last of his instruments in his black leather bag. Snapping the clasp and turning, his smile was wry. “I warned you, did I not, that most husbands choose to wait out the delivery in another room? Childbirth is the most natural thing in the world, but it can be quite a shock for a man who doesn’t know what to expect.”
Shock? He’d nearly passed out at least a handful of times. Thankfully, he’d managed to stay upright and focus his energy on Rachel, holding her hand, mopping her brow and murmuring who knows what in her ear.
“Your wife and son are both healthy. Just see to it that she gets plenty of rest. If you have any concerns, I’ll come back out and check on them. Congratulations to you both.”
The doctor bid them farewell and let himself out.
“You look a little pale. Are you all right?” Rachel asked softly, her brow furrowing. “Do you regret staying for the birth?”
“No, not at all. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He managed a tremulous smile, his nerves calming a bit. Carefully, he smoothed her dark hair back from her forehead. “Remember the day you told me we were expecting?”
She nodded. “You promised you’d be here for me and this baby every step of the way.”
“After all I missed with Abigail, I was determined not to miss anything this go-around.”
Laying her palm against his cheek, she
got that look in her eyes that made him feel ten feet tall, the one that made him feel invincible and vulnerable all at once. And loved. Always loved.
“You are the best husband and father. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Turning his face, he pressed a kiss on her palm. “I don’t believe you have,” he teased.
“I love you, my husband, more than the moon and stars, more than—”
Overcome, Cole pressed a light, sure kiss on her lips, murmuring, “I love you, sweet pea.” Turning his attention to his newborn son, swaddled in blankets and resting peacefully against her chest, he brushed a reverent kiss on his downy head. “And I love you, little one.”
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Just like his ma,” he agreed, in awe of this tiny life they’d created together.
His life was so full. He was ever aware he didn’t deserve to be this happy. Whenever he thought about how close he’d come to throwing it all away, he choked up, grateful beyond words to the good Lord above for leading him back here. Sorting things out for his benefit. Blessing him with the family he’d always dreamed of.
Rachel rested her head against the pillows, a soft sigh escaping her lips as her lids drifted closed. A surge of concern swept through him. She must be exhausted. With careful movements, Cole lifted baby Daniel and tucked him in the crook of his arm, a warm weight against his chest.
“Just wait until your big sister gets a good look at you,” he murmured, his gaze taking in the light covering of pale brown hair, the perfectly shaped nose and mouth. While Abigail was one hundred percent Rachel, their son had features from both parents.
Abigail was no doubt too busy to miss them. The O’Malley girls all adored her, the twins especially, who allowed her to help out in the kitchen despite her tendency to make a mess. Lydia had offered to watch her, but neither he nor Rachel had felt completely comfortable with the idea.
The relationship with his in-laws was not ideal, but it was progressing, more so with Lydia than with Lawrence. Thanks to Cole’s recommendation, Lawrence’s sentence had been reduced from six months to three. His partner in Cole’s attack, lumberyard owner Billy Johnson, had gotten off with a warning. After Lawrence’s release, he’d come home a somewhat humbler man. He kept his distance and his silence and that was all right with Cole. As long as he did nothing to hurt Rachel and the kids, he had no problem with the man, had forgiven him with God’s help. It was easier with Lydia.
With her husband in prison and Stephen striking out on his own, the loneliness had gotten to her. She’d missed Rachel and Abigail. It hadn’t taken her long to apologize for burning the letter and for all the hateful things she’d said to them both. Rebuilding trust took time, but they were working on it. Rachel was happy, and that was all that mattered.
“I wonder how the play is going?” Rachel had opened her eyes again, a tiny worry line between her brows.
“It won’t be as good as last year’s,” he predicted with mock seriousness, “not without you directing.”
“Megan will do a fine job, and you know it.” She smiled, the line disappearing. “But I daresay Lee won’t make as good a Joseph as you did.”
“True,” he teased, “but there’s always next year.”
“And the year after that.” Her face glowed with peace and contentment, her eyes shining with promise.
“And the year after that...” He leaned over and kissed her, knowing they were no longer speaking of the play, but of their future together.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed these stories from Linda Ford and Karen Kirst, be sure to check out the other books this month from Love Inspired Historical!
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Handpicked Husband by Winnie Griggs!
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Smoky Mountain Christmas. When my editor told me she was looking for someone to write a Christmas novella to be paired with Linda Ford, I jumped at the chance. I’m really glad I did. Cole and Rachel’s story was a joy to write. This was my first Christmas-themed story, and it worked out that I was writing it during the holiday season. The music, decorations and endless supply of cookies helped get me in the spirit. This time of year, we’re reminded how important family and friends are in our lives. Please take the time to let them know how much you love them.
I love to hear from readers. You can email me at [email protected]. Or catch me on Facebook. For more information about my Smoky Mountain Matches series, visit my website, www.karenkirst.com.
Have a blessed day!
Karen Kirst
Questions For Discussion
Rachel is concerned with how other people view her and despises being the subject of gossip. How do others’ opinions affect you? What does the Bible say about this?
Have you ever been treated unfairly because of someone else’s actions? How did you handle the situation?
Not everyone in Gatlinburg treats Cole unfairly. Rachel, the O’Malleys and others are kind to him. Have you ever befriended someone in a similar position?
How difficult is it to stand up for what you know is right, especially when it’s unpopular?
In the beginning, Rachel did nothing to attempt to mend the relationship between her parents and her new husband. What do you think she should’ve done differently?
When townspeople begin to show their support, Cole wonders what caused the change—the reverend’s message on judging others, pity because of the fire or their affection for Rachel. What do you think was behind their change of heart?
Cole keeps silent about his suspicions in order to protect Rachel. What do you think of this decision?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical story.
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
Northeast Texas, 1894
An ear-splitting shriek ricocheted through the forest, startling a raucous cloud of blackbirds from the roadside trees.
“Easy, Trib.” Adam Barr patted the horse’s neck as the animal shied. What now?
The buggy behind him slowed to a stop, but Adam ignored it, along with the uneasy questions from the three men seated inside. He’d promised to escort the men from Philadelphia to Texas, not be their nursemaid.
The wailing continued and Adam fought the urge to tilt back his head and answer with a wild, full-throated howl. He’d gritted his teeth so often these past few days the muscles in his jaw hurt. Taking on this job when more important business waited for him in Philadelphia had him in a foul mood, as his companions could no doubt attest.
After six years of biding his time—six years, two months and thirteen days to be exact—he’d thought he could finally pursue his goal without distraction.
If this assignment had come from anyone but Judge Madison...
Adam scanned the brush-skirted hardwoods lining the trail. Whatever the source of that eerie sound, it was headed their way.
He eased his rifle from the scabbard. Anticipation stirred his blood. He might have to employ his “company manners” with his three charges, but this bellowing beast was another mat
ter.
No telling what manner of creature roamed this forsaken backwoods. The wail was too high-pitched to belong to a bear. A large cat maybe?
He urged Trib closer to the trees. There seemed to be a pattern to the sound, a certain mangled cadence. Almost as if—
Well, what do you know?
He leaned back. Not a wild animal after all. Too bad.
“Do you think it’s a wolf?”
Adam glanced over his shoulder. Chance’s expression, like his tone, held more eagerness than worry. Did the kid think it would be some kind of lark to face down a wolf? Of course, from what Judge Madison had told Adam, the twenty-one-year-old was on this expedition precisely because he was prone to seek out trouble.
“Sounds more like an infernal wildcat.” Everett adjusted his shirt cuff with exaggerated care, doing a creditable job of appearing unconcerned. But his British accent was more pronounced now, something Adam noticed happened when anything rattled the dandified cynic.
Mitchell, who controlled the skittish carriage horse with ease, refrained from comment. Nothing unusual in that. The loose-limbed bear of a man had spent most of the trip west with a sort of sleepy-eyed disinterest. What was different, however, was the subtle alertness that radiated from him now, as if he were a cavalryman waiting for the enemy to appear over the rise.
Another strident note drew Adam’s focus back to the roadside. He didn’t bother to disabuse them of the notion that it might be a wild animal. It’d do the pampered trio good to have something to worry about besides the unorthodox plot they’d gotten themselves embroiled in.
“Perhaps you should get the carriage moving,” Everett said. “I’m sure our escort can handle this better without us to distract him.”
“We shouldn’t abandon Mr. Barr,” Chance shot back. “He might need—”