Finn

by Chris Keniston

  Joanna flew out of his arms so quickly she almost tripped over the rockers behind her.

  "Oh." His dad smiled. "For the record, I wouldn't mind if you were really married. Good night."

  "Oh my God." Eyes squeezed tightly closed, Joanna fell into the seat behind her. "What must he think?"

  Finn wasn't sure he cared what his father thought as much as he worried what had just happened. He kissed her, that's what happened. Really kissed her. The kind of kiss that started in the moonlight and ended with breakfast. Damn. "I'm sorry."

  Her fingertips rested gently on her lips and her gaze slowly shifted to meet his. Finn wasn't sure what he saw in those beautiful hazy blue eyes, but she did look as stunned as he felt.

  "For what?" she asked so softly he almost couldn't make out the words.

  "I, uh, shouldn't have done that." He took a step in retreat and stuck his hands in his back pockets for fear if he didn't, he might pull her into his arms again and pick up where he'd left off before his father had interrupted them.

  Her hand fell from her mouth and her gaze shifted to the kitchen door and then over to the book before she picked it up and stood. "I'd better go inside and start reading. I think between the two women's journals I should have plenty of material for the mail order bride angle."

  He nodded and took another step back, still overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch her one more time. Shifting out of the way as she crossed in front of him, a sick feeling strangled his gut and fear of losing the friendship they'd had, of losing her rose squeezing his heart. "Joanna," he blurted out.

  She stopped and turned to face him. "Yeah?"

  "We're okay, right? I mean, you're not mad at me?"

  A whisper of a smile crossed her lips and she shook her head. "We're good."

  "Okay." He smiled, still a bit uneasy. "Good night."

  "Night." She crossed the threshold into the house and Finn didn't move. He watched her back as long as he could see.

  If they were good, if he hadn't screwed up, why did he still feel so damn unnerved? Scared? He crossed the short distance to the door, and standing in the kitchen looked to the dining room where they'd shared Sunday supper, over to the living room where he'd stood behind her claiming to be her husband. His eyes closed and his heart stuttered to a near stop.

  The reason he felt like throwing up, whether he liked it or not, was simple. He was in love with Joanna. So now what the hell was he going to do?

  ***

  Closing the door behind her, Joanna sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the closed door. If not for the way her lips still tingled, she'd be positive she had imagined the magnificent kiss. It wasn't like she and Finn hadn't played the part before, but like actors in a show, before was just that—for show. Sweet, simple. None of the warmth, the heat, the fire that had singed her senses moments ago had been in the pretend lip locks from her college days. And certainly never before had she wanted so badly to go running to Finn's room to pick up where they were before his father had interrupted.

  His father. With a groan, Joanna flung herself back on the bed. Boy had she messed everything up. At least she could be sure of one thing, Finn still wanted to be friends. Though he had a damn strange way of showing it.

  Once again, her fingertips skipped over her lips. Why hadn't he ever kissed her like that in school? Because he was a boy scout. She sprang up from the bed and stripped out of her clothes. The man had always been a boy scout. Though she was the only person who he willingly played along with to deflect unwanted male attention, he was the first one to step up and help a damsel in distress or a friend in need. He probably helped little old ladies across the street when she wasn't looking.

  Yanking her oversized t-shirt off the hook, she slid it on and plopped back on the bed, sitting Indian style. Finn Farraday was an honest to goodness gentleman. A kind and generous soul. The do-gooder routine that came so naturally for him was only one of the qualities she loved about him. Loved? Why was that word suddenly so startling? She loved a lot of people. Her mother and father and sister for starters. Her BFF since pre-school, Haley. Her cohorts in crime from A&M, Melissa and Cathy. She cried for weeks when her dog Missy died.

  If she extended the list of family she loved to include cousins, aunts and uncles, the amount of love she had stored for so many would be virtually endless. She was just being overly melodramatic over a simple kiss. She and Finn were after all normal red-blooded people. There was no reason to make a mountain out of the molehill of a kiss. Like she'd said to Finn, they were good.

  Unfolding her legs and twisting to grab the journal, she settled back against the pillows and skimmed the first pages, stopping to read every word when Lilibeth stepped off the stagecoach in Three Corners. Joanna hadn't realized that almost the second the brides had landed in town, the preacher was ready to marry the newly arrived ladies with their waiting grooms. It made sense. Jobs for women were few and far between in the nineteenth century. Heck, from what her grandmother said it was true for the first half of the twentieth century. Unmarried ladies remained under the protection of a father or brother until they were passed over to the protection of a husband. In the old west there would be no apartment buildings for the ladies to rent while they found respectable work. There would be only one place for them to stay—the home of their groom—and that wasn't happening without a wedding.

  Thinking back to the first day she'd met Finn in class, her mind went over her first impressions and how easily the quiet young man and she had become friends. But how different would it have been if she'd had to marry Finn within hours of meeting him? Would her first feelings have been the same or, shrouded in fears and doubts, would she have shied away?

  A smile tugged at her cheeks. The first moment she'd laid eyes on Finn she'd known he was a special guy. She'd have said "I do" in a heartbeat. Still would. The journal fell from her hands. Still would? Closing her eyes, she sucked in a long breath. "Joanna Gaines, you're an idiot."

  Yes, she loved her friends and family and every pet she'd ever had, but the only person she'd ever been in love with was the one and only Finnegan Farraday. The same man who just announced all he wanted was friendship. Flinging herself against the bed hard, she snatched at the book again. A dull ache settled under her breastbone. How the heck was she supposed to write this story and walk away?

  ***

  Holding the silver framed photograph of herself and her sister on Helen's wedding day, Eileen smiled. Of all the children, even though he was a boy and fit the Farraday mold, Finn looked the most like his mother. And the way he looked at Joanna reminded Eileen so much of the way Helen had looked at Sean. There was almost six years between the sisters, but they'd been close nonetheless. Eileen had teased her sister mercilessly over marrying a cowboy and moving to the middle of nowhere. Not that she could blame her, Sean Farraday was a breathtaking catch back then. Like his sons now, he was the complete package—smart, sweet, handsome, thoughtful, polite, strong enough to fight for the woman he loved and still gentle enough to love her better than anyone. Helen had fallen head over stilettos in love with him the first time she'd laid eyes on him, along with every one of Eileen's high school friends.

  Helen and Sean had been so happy together, and Eileen was sure the same bright future was in store for Adam, Brooks, Connor and DJ, but she worried about Finn. He'd been born a wise old soul. By the time he'd hit puberty it was obvious to everyone that he was the heir to the Farraday ranch, not the older boys. Eileen knew he'd dated some in high school, but not much, and even less since returning from college and sharing the reins with his father.

  Any other time and Eileen would have been thrilled with such a lovely bright girl in Finn's life, but not so much now. The girls could call her all colors of crazy they wanted to, but she knew deep down in the well of her women's intuition that the blessing of a stupid dog that no one knew much about was more important than any smile in her boy’s eyes.

  She set the photograph down and looked a
t the others displayed in front of her. They'd all grown up so well. "Oh, Helen. Am I being crazy? I sure do wish you were here." Tightening the belt on her robe she descended the stairs to the kitchen. She was being silly. Ridiculous. So what if her instincts were rarely wrong? They could be wrong this time. A warm cup of tea and a bit of yesterday's chocolate cake was the only answer she could come up with. For now.

  Noticing the porch light on, Eileen filled the kettle and leaving it to boil, peeked out the nearby window. "What the…"

  In a t-shirt and sweatpants, the same sleeping attire Eileen's niece favored, Joanna sat hunched on the stoop talking to herself. Not till Eileen reached the back door did she see more clearly that Joanna was not talking to herself but reading from a book.

  "This is the saddest day of my life. When Herman passed ten years ago I thought I might curl up and die with him. It was Miss Sadie who took pity on me. All those smiles and nods were my saving grace. So sad. Lilibeth rarely wrote in her journals after Herman died."

  Something moved and Eileen cupped the glass to see better.

  "Wasn't it sweet of you to come visit," Joanna cooed. "I needed someone to talk to tonight. Keep me from being too sad myself."

  From under Joanna's hand, a furry shadow shifted, the dog. Eileen sucked in a deep breath, and very slowly a smile graced her lips. Shutting off the kettle, she grinned a little wider before turning on her heel and heading back up the stairs. Who needed cake on such a pretty night?

  Chapter Twenty

  Not having slept more than a few winks between tosses and turns, Finn was not ready for one of his aunt's hearty breakfasts. Even more so, he wasn't prepared for her especially chipper mood.

  "Thought I'd make some rice pudding for dessert tonight. Sound like a good idea to you?"

  His aunt knew darn well that rice pudding was one of his favorites, if not most favorite, dessert, so he had no idea why she asked if it was a good idea. "Sounds wonderful." He forced a smile.

  The light shuffle of slippers across the wood floor told him that Joanna was up early this morning. From the tired smile she offered, he'd guess she hadn't gotten much more sleep than he had. Could she have been as mixed up about last night as he was? "Morning."

  "Good morning," Aunt Eileen chirped so happily, Joanna's sleepy eyes widened with surprise.

  Blinking her eyes back to normal size, Joanna offered a wan smile. "Good morning,"

  "How'd you sleep?" Aunt Eileen asked.

  "What little I slept was fine. I spent too many hours reading the journals I found in the sisters' box."

  Finn buttered his toast in an effort to look like this morning was any normal morning. "Find out anything interesting?"

  "Bits and pieces that don't necessarily make a lot of sense." Joanna set the book down on the table and went to the kettle. Finn watched a rather unexpected turn of events. Rather than treating Joanna as a guest the way his aunt had done since her arrival, she was going about her business, letting Joanna make her own tea.

  Finn set his coffee down on the table and studied the two women. Joanna moved in the kitchen as though it had always been her home. She opened a drawer and Aunt Eileen shifted right. Aunt Eileen needed the cutting board and Joanna shifted left. She knew where the tea bags and sugar were and helped herself to the milk in the fridge. A time or two Finn thought he might have caught his aunt actually pausing to smile at Joanna. Maybe the last twenty-four hours had indeed been a dream and Finn was still in some alternate universe.

  Hot tea in hand, Joanna sat at the table across from him. "Listen to this." She flipped a page and removed the bookmark. "The sisters of the Sacred Heart will be good to my Emma. She'll grow up into a fine lady and have the life Herman and I had hoped for her."

  "Sisters of the Sacred Heart?" Aunt Eileen brought a cup of coffee to sit at the table.

  "From what I can tell, Lilibeth shipped her daughter off to boarding school in Dallas about ten years after Herman died.

  "Boarding school?" Finn tore at a slice of toast. "Isn't that a little odd for a small town like Three Corners? I mean, didn't only really rich people send their kids off to boarding schools?"

  "That's what I thought. It's hard to put the pieces together because she only writes in the journals sporadically, like the anniversary of Herman's death, or Emma's birthday. There's never any mention of what's going on around her in any detail. For instance,” Joanna moved the bookmark and flipped toward the back of the book, "Emma's young man has sent me a lovely letter requesting my daughter's hand in marriage. My heart is full. The sisters assure me he is a good Christian soul from a solid Dallas family, though his Protestant faith is of concern to them, I can only be thankful that my baby has found a man as good as her father, the sort of man so many of my girls dream of."

  "What girls?" Finn asked.

  "That's what I mean." Joanna closed the book. "There is little detail. An occasional mention of her girls but I have no idea if she remarried, had more children, or if she's a caregiver—"

  "That's possible, I refer to my nephews as my boys." Aunt Eileen fingered the ancient journal. "This wasn't cheap. It's nice leather."

  Joanna nodded. "That's what I was thinking. And a boarding school in Dallas, even if it was run by Catholic nuns, could not have been cheap either."

  "How many more journals are there?" Finn did his best to focus on her story. What he really wanted to know was if she was planning on coming out to work with him again. They hadn't discussed it, and until last night, he hadn't realized how much he wanted her at his side.

  "Not sure. Some of the books look more like ledgers. Once I'm done with this one I'm going to go back to Ruth Ann's ancestor's journals."

  Finn nodded, still not willing to ask more about her plans.

  Aunt Eileen twisted to face Joanna. "Are you going to do that this morning or are you going to head out and work with the men?"

  Bless his aunt.

  "Actually," Joanna took another quick sip of tea, "I think I'd like to take a short nap so I don't fall asleep on my feet."

  Finn swallowed his last bite of scrambled eggs. "Sounds like a good idea." He pushed to his feet, taking one last swallow of coffee. "I'll see y'all at lunch." He had one foot out the door when Joanna came hurrying up beside him.

  "Can I speak to you a second?"

  He glanced over her shoulder to his aunt cleaning the counter. "Sure."

  Joanna nudged him fully outside. "Remember you said you'd teach me to shoot?"

  "I do." Though he'd sort of hoped she'd forget that idea.

  "Do you think there might be time later today or tomorrow?" She glanced off to the barn and back. "I won't be here too many more days."

  His heart did that stutter thing it did whenever he thought about losing her. "After lunch will be good. We'll go out behind the barn."

  Her face lit up like a little girl with a new pony. She flung her arms around his neck, mumbled thank you and bounced away happily back inside the house.

  Rooted to the floor, he had to force his feet to move away from the porch. Building new fences was the last thing he wanted to do right now. At least for the most part it was mindless work. Maybe a few hours of hard labor would help him figure out how to keep Joanna with him longer. Forever longer.

  ***

  Beyond the shadow of any doubt, Joanna was getting awfully used to these big ranch meals. She wasn't sure what had happened, or if anything had happened and it was just her imagination, but Joanna thought Aunt Eileen was being especially sweet. Until now she had thought Aunt Eileen was one of the nicest people she'd known, but today it felt as if the woman was her aunt.

  "I figured out ages ago that there's no such thing as too much sauce in the mixture." Aunt Eileen stuck a pan in the dishwasher. "My mother used to make the driest meatloaf on the planet. I found a recipe with a can of tomato paste in the beef mix and thought, great. Then one day I didn't have any tomato paste so I opened a jar of basic spaghetti sauce, but then I had all this sauce leftover that w
ent bad before I could use it." She shrugged. "Next time I made meatloaf I just put the whole jar in."

  "And that's why your meatloaf is juicy and flavorful."

  Aunt Eileen nodded. "And that's the secret."

  "You ready?" Finn came out from the back porch. "We'll take the four-wheeler."

  "To the other side of the barn?" she asked.

  "It's farther than it looks and besides. I'd think you've had enough run-ins with the rattler family."

  Oh brother, she hadn't thought of that. "Four-wheeler sounds like a great idea." She looked around the kitchen. "Do I need to bring anything?"

  "Nope. We're all set."

  "Here." Aunt Eileen handed Finn a covered basket. "A little snack in case you get hungry."

  Finn kissed his aunt on the temple. "You're too good to me."

  "I know." She grinned up at him and then over to Joanna. "What can I say? I'm a pushover."

  Finn opened the door and waved outdoors.

  "Lead the way, hu…master." She'd almost let the old nickname slip. That was one habit she was going to have to learn to break fast. If she hoped to see Finn more often than every six years, she'd have to let go of old habits that made for awkward moments. Not to mention impossible dreams.

  The ride to the quiet side of the barn wasn't long at all. If not for the snakes, she could have done it no problem. Finn hopped out first and standing at the side, rummaged through a bag. Pulling out a set of headphones, he handed them over to her. "I'll run through a little fast instruction. When we start shooting you're going to need to wear these. "

  "Headphones?" She turned it around in her hands. "Will there be music too?"

  "Ha ha. They're ear protectors. You'll be using a smaller twenty-two caliber revolver but after a few shots your ears will be ringing for hours."