by P. Creeden
Still smiling, she lifted a brow. “What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Would you allow me to court you?” he blurted. Patience had never been one of his virtues.
Her eyes went wide, and her smile slipped from her face. She blinked at him and then narrowed her eyes as though doubting his honesty. “What is your aim?”
“My aim?” He tilted his head, confused for a moment. Then he swallowed before saying, “I wish to marry you, Hannah Beth Walsh.”
Her eyes went wide again. “Marry me?” Her voice barely came out more than a whisper.
“If you’ll have me.” And suddenly, all of Oliver’s confidence left him. He didn’t know what kind of reaction he’d get from Hannah, but he’d hoped it would have been more positive. He’d wanted her to say yes, but the doubt in her eyes as they searched his made him feel, for the first time, that she might deny him. “I’m in love with you Hannah, and I want to court you with the purpose of marriage. I’ll ask your mother for permission. Your brother, too, since he’s man of the house. I’ll do whatever you want from me if only you’ll say yes.”
He rambled and said more than he’d meant to. He’d expressed his genuine feelings and let them spill from his lips, holding nothing back. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but instead, his hands remained in fists at his sides, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.
“I... I don’t know. This is very sudden,” she finally stammered.
“I’m sorry that it’s sudden, but it’s the truth. I want nothing in this world more than for you to marry me.”
Her brows furrowed. “You honestly feel this way... about me?”
He huffed a laugh. “I’ve never felt this way about any other lady I’ve met in my life. Only you.”
She staggered, and for a moment, Oliver thought she might faint. He reached out for her, but she stepped away from him. “I’m going to need a moment to think about this. All right?”
And without another word, she ran away from him. Again.
Hannah ran blindly into town. As she stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the general store, she misplaced her step and twisted her ankle. She stumbled and cried out. Mr. Emmet Forest stepped out of the store. His worried eyes met hers. “Miss Walsh! Are you all right?”
She shook her head, forced a smile, and said, “I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle a little. It will be all right.”
But when she attempted to walk forward, pain shot up her leg, and she nearly stumbled again. Emmet’s hands where on her shoulders, but she pulled free of them, suddenly hyper aware of a man’s touch.
“I’m okay. It’s just a minor thing. I’ll go see the doctor.” And she began limping toward the doctor’s house.
Emmet followed. “I could carry you. Or you can lean on me. I’d hate to leave a woman to limp all the way to the doctor.”
“It’s fine,” she answered, but then hands lifted her up without preamble, and she resisted the touch—shocked that Emmet would do such a thing. But when she met eyes with the man who held her in his arms, she found Oliver’s dark eyes staring into hers.
Her breath hitched, and every thought of resistance she had fled.
Chapter 11
Oliver’s musky scent surrounded Hannah as he carried her to the doctor’s house. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his limp became more pronounced, but she dared not say a word when she saw the determination in his brown eyes. She gripped his shoulders lightly, the tension in her body giving way to his warmth. He made her feel safe. He made her feel smart. He’d always made her feel like his equal. And now he’d said he loved her.
And she loved him. She’d been afraid to feel that way about him. Afraid he’d reject her. Afraid that he’d play with her emotions. But he’d said that he loved her first—said he wanted to marry her. It was okay to return the feelings, wasn’t it? She didn’t realize she was crying until the tears slipped past her chin. She swiped at them.
His eyes grew wider. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head.
He frowned as if he didn’t know if she told the truth. The afternoon sunlight gave way to shadow and a roof overhead as he slipped into a building. Hannah immediately recognized the bar to the side.
“Hannah! What’s wrong?” Abby’s voice was higher in tone than usual, panicked.
Oliver set Hannah down gently, and she stood, putting as little weight as she could on her twisted ankle. It throbbed as it had already begun to swell. He swiped at his sweat with his hand. “She’s hurt her ankle.”
Abby grabbed her by the elbow and guided her to the sofa. “Have a seat and let me take a look.”
After lifting the ankle and setting it in her lap, Abby palpated the joint, forcing a wince occasionally out of Hannah, but Hannah bit her lip to keep from crying out. All the while, her eyes remained fixed on Oliver. She’d never seen him look so distraught. He wrung his hands and the wrinkles on his brow furrowed deeper than she’d seen them yet. His pale skin shined under a sheen of sweat. “Is it broken? Is she going to be okay?”
Finally, after a while, Abby looked up. “She will be fine—it’s not broken. She will just need to rest it for a while, and chew willow bark whenever the pain gets too great. It will only be a week or so before she’s back to normal. I’ll get a mud pack for it now. Wait here.”
Oliver closed his eyes and sighed with relief while Abby left the room to get the medicine she needed. The lines on his face smoothed. Was he really that concerned for Hannah? She fixed on him until he opened his eyes again and met gazes with her. He blinked and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. “I’m so sorry. This was all my fault. I was impatient. I should have waited.”
She shook her head at him and offered a self-deprecating smile. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have run away. I just needed time to think and felt panicked.”
“That’s why it’s my fault.” He dropped down to his knees in front of the sofa where she sat. “You didn’t need to feel that way. I should have—”
She took hold of his hand and cut him off with a whisper. “I love you, too.”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he stopped mid-sentence. She smiled at him, and the action woke him from his stupor, pulling his lips into a smile, too. He squeezed her hands, leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against hers.
Her heart leapt and beat against her chest wildly. Heat rose to her cheeks and her whole body flushed with warmth.
His watery eyes fixed on hers. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that. I hoped, but didn’t expect—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t think you’d ever say it. So, when you did, it took me by surprise. I had told myself that I was foolish for having feelings for you—that I needed to be satisfied with being a spinster and a teacher for the children in Brokken. I didn’t think I’d ever get married, especially not to someone as handsome and smart and kind as you.”
His smile widened. “You are all those things and more.”
Then he leaned in again, his hand reaching up and taking hold of her chin lightly before kissing her again. This time he lingered, the softness giving way to a little more force, a little more desperation. It wasn’t as chaste as she’d ever seen a kiss before, and it forced a surprised gasp out of her.
“Ahem.” Abby cleared her throat from over Hannah’s shoulder, causing them both to pull back quickly.
Hannah’s cheeks heated impossibly more, and she couldn’t meet gazes with Oliver for a moment while he stood. Abby’s wry smile took his place as she sat before the sofa and applied the poultice to Hannah’s ankle. Once she’d finished, she wrapped it in a cloth. “I’ll tell Rebecca how to care for this sprain. It’s not much different than the way we care for a horse’s leg. She’ll be able to reapply the mud pack two or three times a day for the next few days.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Hannah said with relief.
“Should I help you with get
ting home or will you be able to lean on Mr. Holt?” she asked as she stood and dusted off her skirt.
“Would it be better if I carried her?”
“No need!” Hannah said as she stood up from the sofa quickly, holding the arm of the seat. “I think I can walk.”
But when she tried to put weight on her injured leg, pain shot up even more sharply than before, causing her to wince and suck in a breath. Oliver bolted forward and wrapped her in his arms. “Let me carry you.”
She shook her head. “No, just let me lean on you. It’s not too far to the house.”
Abby’s eyebrows remained raised as she smiled a goodbye to Hannah. Hannah leaned on Oliver as he kept an arm around her shoulders and helped her walk the way home. Lydia saw them as she was returning from the general store. “Hannah Beth! What’s happened?”
Oliver shook his head. “She’s twisted her ankle. It’s not broken but she needs to rest.”
Lydia eyed the two of them, narrowing her eyes at Oliver. “Hannah Beth? You can lean on me. I’ll take you home, so you don’t have to rely on Mr. Holt.”
Hannah’s arm wrapped around Oliver’s waist, causing Lydia’s eyebrows to shoot up. Hannah shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Her cheeks heated again. It was true. She didn’t mind. She more than didn’t mind. She preferred his warmth and knew she was going to be in trouble when she got home and had to let him go. Lydia walked with them as they limped together through town. Eyes of the townspeople fell upon them, and several people fell into whispers. Though Hannah’s cheeks remained hot, she had no intention of letting Oliver go.
When they reached home, Rebecca came rushing out of the livery. “Hannah Beth, what’s going on? Are you limping?”
Lydia’s voice sing-songed as she said, “Apparently they’ve already seen Abby. Hannah Beth has sprained her ankle.”
Rebecca’s eyes went wide as she took in the way Oliver and Hannah held each other. “Let me and Lydia help you inside.”
“No, Oliver can help me,” Hannah answered, and they started up the porch steps.
Once they stepped inside, still holding each other, Mama gasped. “What’s going on, Hannah Beth?”
“I’m fine, Mama. I just sprained my ankle.” Hannah knew that she’d never had a close relationship with any male, and never let them touch her. She veritably feared any man’s touch, so to see her this close to Oliver was more than just scandalous to her family.
But Oliver smiled down at her coolly as he helped her sit down in a chair and then he went and sat directly next to her mother’s rocker. “Mrs. Walsh, I’d like to ask if you’d allow me to court your daughter with the purpose of marrying her as soon as possible.”
Mama’s eyebrows raised. “You mean Hannah Beth?”
He nodded, his smile widening. “Only her and no one else.”
“You know that she’s stubborn, right?”
“Mama!” Hannah cried.
He nodded. “It’s one of the things that makes her beautiful. She’s full of fire, honesty, and gentleness, too. I don’t think I could ever love any woman more.”
Hannah sucked in a breath, but her mother just chuckled. Then she leaned forward in her rocking chair. “It’s about time someone appreciated Hannah Beth for all that she’s worth. You have my blessing.”
“Mine, too,” Noah said from behind Rebecca and Lydia, who both still stood in the doorway. Noah stepped around them. “I just came from town. Everyone’s talking about the way that Hannah got hurt and how Mr. Holt carried her all the way to Doctor Abby’s, even though he limped on that false leg. If he can love her enough to do that, I believe that he can handle Hannah’s stubbornness.”
“Noah!” Hannah cried, but at the same time she laughed, and tears began to fall from her eyes.
Oliver came over and sat next to her on the sofa and took her hands in his. They just looked into each other’s eyes, and Hannah found that she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Will you be staying for supper, then?” Lydia asked, tying her apron around her waist.
Just then Missy ran in from the back door in the kitchen. “Did you hear about Mr. Holt and Hannah?”
She stopped dead and slapped a hand over her mouth when she spied the two of them sitting on the sofa with their hands clasped together. Lydia laughed and set a hand on Missy’s shoulder. “We’ve heard... and we’ve seen. Come help me in the kitchen.”
“All right.” Missy barely tore her gaze away from the two on the sofa.
Hannah expected the heat to rise to her cheeks again, but somehow, she no longer felt embarrassed. Instead she felt something quite different. She felt content for the first time in her life. She felt proud that this wonderful man had chosen her. And even though all her plans for the future had been broken, she couldn’t wait to see where Oliver would lead her next.
About the Author
P. Creeden is the sweet romance and mystery pen name for USA Today Bestselling Author Pauline Creeden. She loves a good mystery and grew up watching Colombo, Perry Mason, and Murder, She Wrote. Books have always been a focal point of her life, from Nancy Drew and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to thrillers like John Sanford.
Animals are the supporting characters of many of her stories, because they occupy her daily life on the farm, too. From dogs, cats, and goldfish to horses, chickens, and geckos -- she believes life around pets is so much better, even if they are fictional. P. Creeden married her college sweetheart, who she also met at a horse farm. Together they raise a menagerie of animals and their one son, an avid reader, himself.
If you enjoyed this story, look forward to more books by P. Creeden.
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This Brokken Road
http://bit.ly/ThisBrokkenRoad
Storms in life bring devastation but may also clear a Brokken Road.
Abigail Bailey and Deborah Brokken mourn the decimation of their town. Many sons of Brokken, Texas never returned from the Civil War. Those who did remain divided.
Abigail grieves for the loss of her husband and for those around her. Broken lives, broken hearts, and broken dreams haunt the citizens of the town. Deborah, especially, is affected. Her father founded Brokken, and her own brothers have destroyed his legacy.
Is it too late for the good folks of Brokken to unite before their hometown becomes another casualty of the War?
Brokken Rising
Even the broken can be healed...
Rebecca Walsh has only ever had two loves, her family and horses. But when her father and brother died in the Civil War, her family is left as broken as her home town. When the town sent an advertisement for mail-order grooms, Rebecca didn't have much interest in wooing one. She just hoped the men might save her town, so her family could stay in the only home they'd ever known.
Jake Harper came to Brokken, Texas to leave his name and his past behind. He hoped to find a future that would help him forget the mistakes he'd made. But one of the other "leftover" men in town has been keeping an eye on Jake and his past might be catching up with him. And as he draws closer to Rebecca, his fears multiply.
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