Reclaiming His Past. Karen Kirst

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СКАЧАТЬ Jessica’s hand, Clara tugged her over to where Tom was assisting a very pregnant Jane from the wagon. Seeing her identical twin sister in that state was strange. This was Jane’s first child, so her peculiar reaction was to be expected, Jessica supposed. Plus, it gave her a clear picture as to how she herself would look if a man as trustworthy and steadfast as Tom Leighton ever entered her life and decided he wanted marriage and a family with her.

      “Jess.”

      Jane’s face, a mirror image of her own, crumpled with worry as she came near. Wearing one of the handful of dresses she’d let out to accommodate her growing form, she’d arranged her red hair in a sophisticated twist and accessorized with two ornate pins. Folks were able to distinguish between them because of their hairstyles. Jane favored more formal upward styles, while Jessica preferred to simply restrain the mass with a ribbon.

      “I was in the mercantile yesterday afternoon when I heard the news. I wanted to come at once, but Tom urged me to wait until today. How are you coping?”

      “It’s odd having a stranger in the house, of course, but it’s a temporary situation. Ma’s there to change the bandages, and Will provides added security at night.”

      Not that they needed protection from Grant, she silently conceded.

      Tom joined his wife, his arm coming protectively about her shoulders. “See? What did I tell you? Your sister is made of sturdier stuff than you think.” He winked at Jessica.

      Angling her face up to his, Jane shot him a smile that made Jessica feel as if she were intruding on a private moment. “I’d like a few minutes with her, if you don’t mind.”

      “We’ll be inside.” Tom dropped a kiss on her forehead before holding out his hand to Clara. “Come along, my little bird.”

      The child obeyed, but not without numerous glances over her shoulder as they crossed the spacious expanse to the church steps.

      Jessica pointed to Jane’s round tummy. “How’s the wee babe?”

      “Active.” Her countenance went dreamy until her gaze cleared. “Don’t try to distract me. I want to know every single detail about this man. How old is he? Is he kind?” Her nose scrunched. “Or grouchy? Oh...is he covered in filth? Of all the homesteads in these mountains, why did he have to pick yours?”

      “Grant didn’t exactly pick us.”

      “He knows his name? I thought he had amnesia.”

      “We chose it for him. Couldn’t exactly address him as ‘Hey, you.’”

      Jane absently rubbed her tummy, her manner assessing. “There’s something in your voice...your expression...” Her hands stilled. “He’s young, isn’t he? And handsome. Jessica—”

      “There’s no need to worry, Jane.” She held up her palms, bitterness rising up. “I learned my lesson well. I’m not about to repeat my mistakes. No unsuitable men for me. Actually, there aren’t any men, suitable or otherwise.”

      “What happened with Lee is over and done with. It shouldn’t stop you from seeking love and happiness. I want you to have what I have, just with the right man.”

      A pair of young men dressed in their finest clothing strolled past. “Hey, Jess.”

      “Hello, Pete.”

      “Lookin’ mighty fine today.” Lowell turned and walked backward, wiggling his brows suggestively. The light in his eyes was harmless, however. “Sit with me?”

      “Not this time.” She rustled up a smile to soften the refusal.

      “I’m not giving up hope.”

      Pete elbowed him. With a tip of his hat, Lowell spun forward and loped toward the church.

      Jane’s expression was shrewd. Before she could voice her obvious opinion, Jessica said, “I’m not interested, and you know it. Besides, he’s only teasing.”

      “I disagree.” Sadness surfaced. “At some point, you have to forgive yourself and move on. We all make choices we wish we could undo.”

      Memories overtook her. Jane had been the one to first suspect Lee was involved in suspicious activity. After witnessing him selling moonshine to several locals, she’d pretended to be Jessica in order to investigate and had discovered an abundance of evidence on his property. Jessica had not only been livid over the pretense, she’d stubbornly refused to believe the man she adored could be a criminal. Her stubbornness had nearly cost them both their lives. Lee hadn’t been so fortunate.

      As if interpreting her thoughts, Jane linked their arms and began walking. The service would begin in minutes. “Lee made his own choices, just as we did. His death is not your fault.”

      “You’ve said that before.”

      “I’ll keep on saying it until you accept it.”

      Jessica inhaled the brisk air, her attention on the fenced-in cemetery adjacent to the building. They’d held a funeral for Lee in the days following the fire. But Lee’s family had wanted him buried in their home state of Virginia, so they’d arranged for his body to be transported there. It hurt not to have a grave to visit or decorate with flowers.

      They stopped at the base of the steep steps. On either side of the double doors sat containers of yellow, orange and purple mums, their bright hues cheerful against the stark white structure.

      Jane turned to her. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

      “Grant isn’t dangerous.”

      “I’m talking about guarding your heart.”

      Jessica frowned. “I never said he posed a threat to my emotional well-being.”

      “You didn’t have to.”

      * * *

      Seated across from Jessica in the O’Malleys’ confined dining space, Grant watched her mix bite-size pieces of ham with collard greens, pinto beans and corn bread and sprinkle the pile with Tabasco hot sauce. Scooping up a large portion, she guided the fork to her mouth, pausing when she caught him staring. “What?”

      “That’s...disgusting.”

      “Not to me.” Shrugging, she went back to ignoring him, something she’d been doing since her return from church.

      He turned to Alice, seated in between them at the table’s end. “Has she always done that?”

      A fond smile creased the older woman’s features as she smoothed the napkin in her lap. “Her pa liked his food spicy. Before Tabasco was available, he grew hot peppers and concocted his own sauce. When Jessica was about six or seven, she wanted to try it and he allowed her to. We could tell that it was too much for her, but she dug in without complaint.”

      Grant shook his head, pointing with his fork. “Do you sprinkle hot sauce on your baked goods, as well?”

      Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Of course not.”

      “What СКАЧАТЬ