Karen Kirst - From Boss to Bridegroom

“Goodbye, Caleb.”

He tipped his hat and grinned. “I’ll tell Becca you said hello.” Swinging up onto the seat, he released the brake and set the wagon in motion.

All too soon, she and Quinn were left to stare at each other. He did a slow inspection. Confidence in sadly low amounts that morning, she’d dressed in one of her favorite outfits, a lavender dress adorned with deep purple ribbons.

“You look to have suffered no ill effects from our confrontation,” he said.

His features portrayed nothing of his thoughts, not appreciation or distaste. Nothing, which left her feeling unbalanced. Hefting a round of paper-wrapped cheese beneath one arm, he held out the other for her. “Shall we go inside?”

Loath to touch him, Nicole adopted a similarly bland expression and forced her bare fingers to his forearm. The heat and strength of corded muscle bled through his shirt’s fine material. Shock shimmered through her as the totally inappropriate urge to explore his physique surged. Close contact with men was limited to her uncle and cousins, and much of the time she succeeded in keeping them at arm’s length. This touch, though impersonal, ricocheted through her defenses and opened up a yawning cavern of inconvenient awareness.

I don’t need anyone. She’d been telling herself that since the moment she realized she was different and no matter how hard she tried, she would never measure up to her sisters.

She focused on the narrow steps. “What exactly did you tell Caleb?”

“You have no cause to worry, Miss O’Malley. Despite what you might think, I am a man of discretion. It would not be in either of our best interests if the details of our...misunderstanding were to be revealed. Especially in my case, considering I’m a newcomer and in need of earning the locals’ trust and respect if I am to be successful in this venture.”

The tension she’d experienced since first spotting her cousin eased somewhat. Neither she nor Quinn planned to speak of the incident. And Shane Timmons was not what one would call a gossip. Like herself, the sheriff was a loner, a private man not given to conversation. No one would learn of the incident from him. And perhaps, given enough time, she’d manage to look her boss in the eye and not remember their initial encounter.

“Will I be meeting any more O’Malley family members?”

“I come from a large family, so it’s unavoidable.”

She felt his appraising side glance. “How large?”

“Caleb is the youngest of three. Josh is the eldest, and Nathan is the middle son. All three are married. Their parents, my uncle Sam and aunt Mary, have a farm close to town.”

“What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“Four sisters. Two older, two younger.” Might as well prepare him. “All possessed of beauty, grace, generosity of spirit and keen intelligence. My sisters are not only admired by the locals, they are upheld as the epitome of what a female should be.”

At the top of the stairs, she snatched her hand free and waited for him to open the door. Hand resting on the knob, he studied her. “You excluded yourself in the description. Are you not upheld as the epitome of female desirability?”

Nicole swallowed the familiar bitterness, aware it was unbecoming and futile. She’d stopped questioning God a long time ago. “You will come to discover that I am nothing like my sisters, Mr. Darling.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, thought better of it and wordlessly opened the door, allowing her to enter first. Glancing into the private quarters on her left, she noticed Ruthanne had left the cheerful red-checked curtains behind, no doubt for Quinn Darling’s benefit.

For what must be the umpteenth time since learning of their plans to move east, Nicole wished Emmett and Ruthanne could’ve remained here. While absentminded and a bit disorganized, Emmett had been a kind and understanding boss. The practical knowledge she’d gained in her employment here would benefit her in the running of her own shop. In a different town, where no one knew her or her family.

He must’ve noticed the direction of her gaze, for he gestured to the pile of trunks shoved beneath the window. “The space is hardly large enough to accommodate one person. Not sure how the Moores were able to make it work as long as they did. Are you aware of any land parcels or homes for sale? I would like to pursue a permanent residence as soon as possible.”

Continuing into the long, windowless office, she slipped her reticule from her wrist and stored it in the top left desk drawer. “Maybe you should hold off until you’re sure you want to stay. Gatlinburg can’t possibly compare to Boston.”

“That’s the reason I chose it.”

“Why Tennessee? Why this store? You aren’t related to Emmett or Ruthanne.”

“Not family, but they are friends of my father.” Setting the cheese atop the paper-littered desk, he folded his arms and leaned forward at the waist. “Can you keep a secret, Miss O’Malley?”

His lithe, powerful body blocked the exit, and, despite not being claustrophobic, she felt his nearness suck the air from the tight space and render her light-headed. She now knew what a cornered animal felt like.

“I’m not a gossip, Mr. Darling.”

“Somehow I sensed that about you.” He edged even closer, lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “The reason I came here was to avoid the authorities. You see, I—I killed a man. Shot him point-blank. It was self-defense, but I don’t have evidence to back my claim. You won’t tell anyone, will you? I hear prison food is deplorable. And I doubt the beds are comfortable.”

“I—” Completely breathless now, Nicole pressed a trembling hand to her throat. For a couple of seconds, she actually believed him. Then she noticed the upward tug at the corner of his sculpted mouth, the muted sparkle at the back of his eyes.

He was making fun of her, the suave, worldly-wise Northerner toying with the naive mountain girl. Well, she received enough mockery from the local thickheaded males. She wasn’t about to put up with it from Quinn Darling, boss or no boss.

Chin up, she stepped forward. “Let me pass.”

His brows shot to his hairline. Turning sideways, he did as she asked. She turned in the direction of the rear exit.

“Where are you going?”

At his curious, bordering-on-nervous tone, Nicole smiled to herself as she strode down the hallway. “To pay Sheriff Timmons a visit. I’m afraid I can’t keep your secret, Mr. Darling. I refuse to work for a cold-blooded murderer.”

Catching up to her, he snagged her arm. “Wait.”

Memories of what had occurred in this hallway less than twenty-four hours ago overtook her—him imprisoning her against the wall, her pitiful efforts to fight back. She shook them off with effort. What’s wrong with me? Why am I allowing him to get to me?

“It was a joke, Miss O’Malley.” His smile begged forgiveness, the look in his eyes expectant, confident of her reaction. “You will find being outrageous is one of my many faults. I blame it on having a gullible younger sister.”

The man’s charm and good looks might’ve proved a lethal combination were she not dead set on a course free of romantic entanglements. “Since I only just met you yesterday, and that meeting left much to be desired, you’ll understand my need to consult with Shane on this, see if there are any wanted posters bearing your likeness.”

His smile remained, but unease flickered in his expression. “You can’t be serious.”

“What would you do in my position?” she asked innocently, enjoying seeing him squirm.

“I cannot have a rumor such as that running rampant in this community.”

“It’s no fun being made to feel a fool, is it, Mr. Darling?”