Kindle Edition
julie lence
Category:
Action/Thriller
Type: Fiction
Copyright: February 2016
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
Tom Porter aches for Jessie at night, and surrenders to fear during the day.
Tom Porter moved to Revolving Point, Texas to escape his past. Taking the job as the hotel and eatery’s manager was supposed to ease the pain of his wife’s death, not heap more sorrow onto his injured soul. The eatery’s waitress is vibrant and pretty… and too young for the likes of him. Better he love Jessie in secret than make her a widow before her time. Trouble is, holding her in his arms and tasting her sweet kisses is what he wants most.
Tracking a missing loved one brought Jessie Kane to Revolving Point. Tom Porter was her reason for staying put in the notorious border town along the Rio Grande. Handsome and kind… Tom may have thwarted her love on Christmas Eve, but he won’t do so again on Valentine’s Day. One way or another, she’ll wrangle a profession of love from him, and a lifetime of happiness.
Excerpt
Chapter One
Revolving Point, TX February 1865
Jessie Kane added another log to the fire then took stance in the shadowy corner to the right of the eatery’s front window. Peeling back a smidgen of the brocade curtain, she peered past the fat droplets of rain pelting the glass to study Revolving Point’s main thoroughfare.
Across the intersection at the southeast corner, the banker climbed into his buggy then pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck. He gave the reins a flick and the pinto plodded across the muddy intersection toward the side street between the eatery and the mercantile. A breath later, horse, man, and conveyance disappeared from sight.
Angling her head for a better view of the mercantile, Jessie pressed her cheek against the cold pane, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tom Porter striding toward her. He’d gone to the mercantile a spell ago for supplies and… she jumped back in fright as a large blur of brown barreled past the window.
“My stars.” She slapped her palm against her breast in an effort to still her racing heart, her gaze settling on the worn Stetson and broad shoulders stepping off the boardwalk. “Silly,” she berated her skittishness. Seven years tracking people had taught her to not be jumpy, especially when in the presence of a lawman.
The heavily muscled body she gazed at was none other than Roth Beaumont, one of Revolving Point’s deputies. His wife was one of her dearest friends. So was his sister, Debra. Her husband was Revolving Point’s other deputy and the reason Jessie had come to the nowhere town along the Rio Grande. Gage Cantrell’s father had paid her handsomely to find Gage. But Cantrell and her friends weren’t her reason for staying. Tom Porter was.
Tall, with light brown hair and pale blue eyes, Tom had arrived in town the same week as she. He’d been hired by the mayor to manage the newly built eatery and hotel next door. She’d also been hired by the mayor as a waitress and maid, albeit under false pretenses on her part. But the lie couldn’t be helped. Taking the job was the only way she’d been able to reunite Cantrell with his parents. Afterward, she’d had no qualms trading her job of locating missing loved ones for serving meals and making beds. The sadness in Tom’s eyes and his quiet demeanor had ensnared her heart.
Tom’s wife of twenty years had perished in a fire last year. Away on a personal matter when the blaze had burned his home to the ground, he blamed himself for her demise. His first months in Revolving Point he carried his grief not only within the depths of his blue eyes, but within his stance and actions. And every day Jessie worked alongside him, her love for him deepened.
The curtain slipped from her hand as a troubled sigh escaped her. Tom didn’t return her feelings. He cared for her and looked out for her well-being, but where she wanted relations with him, he felt differently, claimed he was too old for her. He’d often stated he was more of a father figure, not someone to engage her in matters-of-the-heart. His son was a better choice for her. Calvin was more her age and had several good years left to provide her with a home and family. Tom swore he had about ten years left.
“Ten, my foot. He’s only forty years old,” she fussed. “And I’m not some simpering miss. This April I’ll see my twenty-eighth birthday.”
She’d argued those points, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. Over the Christmas season, she’d hoped to prove him wrong and wrangle a change of heart from him. She’d decorated the eatery and hotel with festive bows and wreaths, had spent an entire night adorning a Christmas tree with red ribbons and candles. Then she’d cooked him a fine meal, served it to him Christmas Eve in the privacy of his living quarters at the back of the hotel, wearing her best dress and her hair arranged prettily, only to have him thwart her again.
“Not this time,” she murmured. Valentine’s Day was two days away. Deputy Roth’s wife owned the orphanage outside town and was hosting a celebration in their newly built barn. Jessie planned to wear a fine dress of linen and wrangle a dance or two from Tom. This time she wouldn’t allow him to sidestep her advances. If need be, she’d kiss him, and wouldn’t stop until he gave in and kissed her the way a man kisses a woman. With heartfelt meaning and―
The door opened and closed, silencing the rest of her thoughts. “Tom, is that you?” She pivoted on her heel to find a stranger leaning on a cane just inside the front door. He wore a long coat and damp hat. Water dripped off the carpetbag he set beside the front door.
“Sorry to disappoint you, ma’am,” he offered a smile, “but I’m not Tom.”
“I can see that.” She noted his medium build and the spectacles he wore. Past the lenses, his eyes were green, and as he removed his hat, a mop of short, curly brown hair appeared. Something about those curls nagged at her memory. “My stars, you’re Edmund Bryant.”
“Guilty, ma’am.” He shook off his coat. “And you are…” his gaze widened. “Jessie Kane?”
For the first time that day, Jessie truly smiled. “Yes, it’s me.” She came forward. “I haven’t seen you since the night your folks held a supper before you went off to join the army.” She grasped his hand between hers and squeezed tight. “That was ten years ago. Where have you been all this time?”
“Cheyenne, mostly,” Edmund answered. “Horse threw me during a scrabble with the Sioux last year. I broke my leg in two places and was discharged.”
“Oh my,” Jessie sympathized before gesturing toward the dining room. “Come and sit.” She led him toward a table near the fireplace. “I’ll get you something hot to drink.”
“Thank you.” Edmund draped his coat over the back of a chair, rested his cane against the seat. “The ride on the stagecoach was long.” Gingerly, he lowered his weight onto a chair. “And wet.”
“It’s been raining for two days.” She took his hat and set it beside the hearth to dry. “I’ll be right back.”
Jessie pushed past the swinging door at the far end of the room and went into the kitchen. She made short work of filling a tea pot with hot water from a kettle on the back of the stove, added tea leaves, and then arranged cups and saucers and a plate of bread and cheese onto a tray. “Here you go.” She entered the dining room. “I fixed a plate for you, too.”
“Obliged.” He grasped the back of the chair next to his and pulled it away from the table for her.
“Thanks.” She nodded, sliding onto the seat and setting the tray on the table in one swift motion. “What brings you to Revolving Point? Are you on your way to Mexico?”
Edmund shook his head of curls. “I saw an advertisement in the Las Cruces paper for a newspaper editor. I applied and a month later, the mayor awarded me the job.”
“He’s been looking for someone for a long spell. The last person to apply proved to only be sixteen years of age.” She set a cup of the hot brew before Edmund, pushed the platter of bread and cheese toward him. “What were you doing in Las Cruces?”
“Assisting my intended’s father with his newspaper. When I wasn’t chasing Injuns, I wrote a piece for the army. Meg’s father hired me to report the news for most of southern New Mexico.” Edmund paused for a sip of tea. “He’s a good man. So was my Captain. I learned more from them than I did Mr. Duncan’s daily lessons.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Our schoolmaster was… unique.”
Edmund’s smile of mischief revealed a dimple on either side of his mouth. “You’re too kind, Jessie. He was pompous.”
“True,” she agreed before changing the subject. “Is your fiancée next door at the hotel?”
“Meg didn’t accompany me this trip. She’s planning our wedding and gathering supplies for our home. I’ll go back to Las Cruces before week’s end. We’ll have our wedding celebration and then move here. For now, I came to have a look at the newspaper office and find a residence.”
“I can help with that. There are several vacant houses one street over.”
His brow furrowed. “Several vacant houses?”
“A fire burned down half of Revolving Point two years ago. Most folks fled with the clothes on their backs and nothing else. Some stayed, like the mayor. He’s rebuilding Revolving Point into a respectable town, not the notorious watering hole it once was.”
Edmund broke off a hunk of bread. “And you’re helping?” He stuffed the piece into his mouth and chewed.
“At first, my interest in coming here had nothing to do with helping the mayor. Now…” her gaze strayed toward the window. The rain continued to keep the boardwalk void of people, one man in particular. Dismay chased away her joy over the sudden appearance of an old friend.
“Something wrong?” Edmund asked, concerned.
She swallowed back a troubled sigh. Pasted a smile on her face and returned her attention to him. “No.” Yes. Tom should’ve been back by now with the supplies. Most likely, he stayed at the mercantile longer than necessary to avoid being alone with her. “How are your parents?” She changed the subject.
Grief marred his features. “Mrs. Morris wrote me in ’62 the Confederates took over pa’s farm. They killed him and ma.”
“Oh,” she gasped in sorrow. “I’m so sorry. I lost mine before the start of the war to fever.”
Edmund patted her hand. “My condolences. Your folks were good people.”
“Yours, too.” Mentally, Jessie shook off a feeling of melancholy. “Enough about Virginia. Finish your meal then we’ll go to the hotel. I have the perfect room for you. The window faces the morning sun.” She paused for a sip of tea. “You’ll join me tonight for the evening meal and I can tell you about the houses I mentioned. Once you chose a home, I’ll help you get settled and—”
“Settled?” a deep tone rattled from the direction of the swinging door.
Snapping her neck toward the voice, Jessie drank in the sight of the greying temples and rugged handsomeness that filled her dreams nightly. “Tom.” She smiled. “Come meet my friend from back home. He just arrived.” She stood. “I’ll get another cup and you can have tea with us.”
Tom’s narrowed gaze slid from her to Edmund, lingered a moment and then slid back to her. “I—”
The front door banged open. Two men entered, their bulk crowding the small foyer.
“A word with you, Porter,” one of them said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Deputies,” Tom acknowledged before shoving open the swinging door and gesturing for them to proceed him. “Another time, Jessie.”
Jessie watched them disappear into the kitchen. Drat those deputies! They always knew when to thwart her.
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