Penny Richards - Wolf Creek Wedding

A Marriage of Necessity

Widow Abby Carter hopes to find love again—unlikely with a man like Caleb Gentry, who doesn’t even believe in it. Their marriage isn’t ideal, but Abby’s two young children need security, and Caleb’s daughter needs a mother. Perhaps this is one of the Lord’s more mysterious answers to Abby’s prayers.

When Caleb Gentry’s wife passed away, he knew he’d need help to raise his baby girl. Abby’s loving spirit, strong faith and warm heart make Caleb want to be a better man. It won’t be easy. But Caleb’s never had things come easy in his life, and making this new family work will be his most important challenge yet.

“I’ve thought about things all night,” Abby said at last. “The only solution is for me to quit. You can hire someone else.”

“Who?” Caleb challenged. “Widows with infants aren’t all that plentiful in Wolf Creek, and if I hired someone else it would just spark the same gossip we’re dealing with.”

Abby chewed on her lower lip. “I could take Betsy to my place,” she offered.

He shook his head. “We’ve already discussed that. She belongs at home. Winter will be here before we know it, and getting back and forth will be a nightmare when the weather gets bad. Besides, I already know how hard it is for you to manage things at your place, and I don’t think you can make it through the winter alone with three children.”

She sat down in her chair and rested her elbows on the table, regarding him with tear-glazed eyes. “What other choice do we have, Caleb? I can’t think of any other way.”

The full force of his silvery gaze met hers. “The only way I can think of is for you to marry me.”

PENNY RICHARDS

has been writing and selling contemporary romance since 1983. Confronted with burnout, she took several years off to pursue other things she loved, like editing a local oral history project, coauthoring a stage play about a dead man (known fondly as Old Mike) who was found in the city park in 1911, got a double dose of embalming and remained on display until the seventies. Really. She also spent ten years renovating her 1902 Queen Anne home and getting it onto the National Register of Historic Places. At the “big house” she ran and operated Garden Getaways, a bed-and-breakfast and catering business that did everything from receptions, bridal lunches, fancy private dinners and “tastings” to dress-up tea parties (with makeup and all the trimmings) for little girls who liked to pretend to be grand ladies while receiving manners lessons. What fun!

Though she had a wonderful time and hosted people from every walk of life, writing was still in her blood, and her love of all things historical led her to historical fiction, more specifically historical mystery and inspirational romances. She is thrilled to be back writing and, God willing, hopes to continue to do so for many years.

Wolf Creek Wedding

Penny Richards

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife.

—1 Corinthians 7:14

This book is for Mom, my biggest cheerleader. I owe all my creativity—cooking, writing, art, all of it—to you. You were a great example. Wish you were here to help me in the garden. I miss you.

As always, thanks to LaRee and Sandy for your input and encouragement.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Excerpt

Chapter One

Wolf Creek, Arkansas

October 1885

The faintest sound of a baby’s crying was carried on the brisk October breeze. Dr. Rachel Stone’s buggy pulled to a stop in front of a large, rambling farmhouse, which was located west of town, three miles down the road that led to Pisgah.

Forest-green shutters framed the front windows and contrasted with pristine white clapboards. A porch, complete with a green swing, spanned the front of the house. Autumn’s chill was slow to arrive in southwest Arkansas. Blue morning glory climbed up posts toward the roof, and blankets of native clematis rambled onto the lawn, hundreds of tiny white flowers bobbing in the gentle breeze.

Abby Carter made a sound of disbelief, and her wide-eyed gaze found her friend’s. On some level she’d known the Gentry family was one of the most affluent in Wolf Creek, but until now, she had never given it much thought.

Smiling at Abby’s astonishment, Rachel climbed down and looped the reins over the hitching post. Rounding the carriage, she reached up to take baby Laura from Abby’s arms.

“Mind your manners,” Abby reminded six-year-old Ben as he scrambled down. Still wearing an expression of amazement, she jumped to the ground, and they all started up the broad steps of the porch.

They had barely reached the top when the front door crashed open. Abby’s startled gaze flew to the face of the man who would be her new employer. Caleb Gentry. Wealthy gentleman farmer. Father of newly born Betsy. Widower, as of a few hours ago. He was a big man—tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, his features too chiseled and angular to be considered handsome. His clothes looked as if he’d slept in them—which he no doubt had, if he’d managed any sleep the previous night—and he was in dire need of a shave. His thick, coffee-brown hair stood on end, and there was a wild look in his steel-gray eyes.

He looked angry and unapproachable. Difficult. Abby’s heart sank. What had she gotten into?

* * *

At the first sight of the quartet coming up the steps, Caleb flung open the door, relief sweeping through him. Their arrival offered welcome respite from the sickening churning of his stomach that had plagued him since Rachel emerged from his wife’s room and informed him that Emily was dead. Stunning news to a man who had only recently come to terms with the idea of being a father.

Accustomed to dealing with the many unexpected problems that cropped up with the running of a successful farming operation and his most recent enterprise, a gravel business, Caleb felt that in general he handled his life with a certain competence. In the blink of an eye, though, he discovered things were going to be very different. When Rachel left him in charge of the baby while she went to talk to Abby Carter about becoming a wet nurse and to inform Emily’s parents of her death, he’d known that he was not prepared to bear sole responsibility for every aspect of his daughter’s welfare.

In fact, thus far, he’d done a miserable job of things.

The baby, whom he had named Betsy according to Emily’s wishes, had spent more time crying than sleeping. Scared witless to hold her, he had nonetheless picked her up and patted, bounced and even tried singing to her. “Old Dan Tucker” vocalized in a gravelly baritone hadn’t done a thing to still her wailing. He had drawn the line at diapering—she was just too little and it was too scary to handle her any more than necessary. No doubt she was wet as well as hungry, which is why he was so relieved to see the approaching foursome.