Jillian Hart - Last Chance Bride

“Emma can talk the ears off a mule, if she sets her mind to it,” he said, leading the way out into the hall. “I thought I’d better warn you.”

A lightness burst in Libby’s chest. “She’s a lively child.”

“And too much for me to raise all alone.” He waited while she closed and locked her door. “I’m outnumbered.”

“And I suspect Emma knows it.”

“Yes, she uses it to her advantage constantly.” Jacob’s smile sparkled.

Libby felt dazzled all the way to her toes. Somehow she managed to walk down the stairs and through the hotel’s busy lobby without tripping. He was willing to see what happens. She wanted him so much. She’d never met a man like him before.

The sun threw long-fingered rays across the sky and slanted into her eyes when she stepped out onto the boardwalk. She blinked against the light as Jacob halted beside a small, well-kept buckboard.

“Are you ready?” His gray eyes swept hers.

“I think so.”

He offered his hand.

Big fingers closed over hers and, palm to palm, he helped her up into the wagon. Her heart did crazy flipflops. She settled on the buckboard’s comfortable seat, waiting for Jacob to circle around the vehicle and join her.

It was going to work out. It had to. She had never wanted anything so much.

“Emma named the horses.” He hopped up and settled into the seat beside her. The buckboard swayed slightly, adjusting to his weight. “She insisted.”

“Life must be like sunshine sharing it with her.”

Jacob gripped the thick leather reins. “Yes. That little girl is everything to me.”

“I can see why.” Libby looked at the package she clutched safely in her lap. Would Emma like the doll? It was homemade, not bought at a fancy store. The sleek, perfectly matched bays drawing this handsome buckboard told her something new about Jacob: He wasn’t poor the way she was.

“The near one is Pete,” he said with an easy grin. “The other is Repeat.”

Libby laughed.

Smile lines crinkled around Jacob’s sparkling eyes.

He didn’t need to tell her which house was his. She knew without words when it came into view, tucked between the thick boughs of cedar and pine. Neat and tidy, with precisely cut logs and thick stripes of chinking, the log cabin sat in a small clearing. Two large windows watched them from either side of a solid wood door. The house looked sturdy and cozy and built to withstand an eternity of winters.

Home. The one word buzzed through her mind, rendering her incapable of speech. She felt warm down to her toes.

Jacob reined in the horses with the jangle of the harness, and Libby stared at the house, trying not to let her hopes grow.

The door flew open and Emma’s red-dressed figure hurled into view, braids flying, black-shoed feet pounding the hard-packed earth. “You’re here! I’ve been waiting forever.”

Libby laughed. Happiness welled in her heart, spilling over with joy. With the sun slanting through the thickboughed pines and the sight of the little girl bouncing to a stop before her, Libby’s throat filled with happy tears. She knew every hardship in her life had brought her here, to this shining, singular moment.

She’d come home.

Chapter Three

Nothing in Libby’s life had ever prepared her for this heart-aching hope smoldering inside her chest. Like embers, she could feel that hope burn.

“We’re having a treat for dessert.” Emma’s voice rang like a merry bell in the hot air. “I’m not supposed to tell what it is because it’s a secret.”

“A secret dessert?” Libby repeated, enchanted.

Emma nodded. Excitement pinkened her cheeks. “We worked on it this morning to pass the time. Your stage didn’t come in until noon, and I couldn’t wait.”

“Neither could I.”

Emma clasped her hands together. “Jane and me made pie...ah, the dessert and then it was time to go meet you.”

Libby’s throat felt too full to speak.

“It’s even a secret from Pa,” the little girl confessed.

“That’s enough now, Emma,” Jacob circled around the wagon, his voice gently amused. “Don’t wear out Miss Hodges’ ear before we even get her inside the house.”

“Ah, Pa. How can I wear out her ear? Ears don’t wear out.”

“Yes they do. You know Grandpa can’t hear well.”

Emma laughed wholeheartedly. “That’s because he’s old.”

“It’s because you talked too much.”

They could be a family. Libby’s chest hurt just thinking of it.

“May I help you down?” Jacob offered his hand.

She slipped her bare fingers into his broad palm. Male-hot skin scorched hers. Libby swallowed at the sensation. He overwhelmed her like a dream, a hero, a fairy-tale prince come true. Her stomach twisted with a knot of need. She hadn’t been sick all day. Maybe it was all right. Maybe she could have her own happy ending.

Libby hopped to the ground, skirts swishing. She kicked up a small puff of dust with the impact of her worn shoes against the solid earth.

“I like your doll.”

At the sight of Emma’s shy, wistful face, Libby had no doubts. She had chosen her gift to the girl well. “This isn’t my doll.”

“She isn’t?” Hope shivered in those words.

“No. I made her.”

“You made her?” Her mouth opened into a round O.

“Yes. I chose everything carefully. The big blue button eyes. The brown yarn braids. The calico dress.”

“It’s red too. We match.”

“Yes. It’s a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded solemnly, the puff of wind teasing her skirt. “Did you make her for me?”

“Yes.”

Emma didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe.

“She doesn’t have a name yet. I thought you might have a few ideas.” Libby stepped closer and pressed the gift against the girl’s chest. Immediately those reed thin arms embraced the rag doll, hugging her hard.

“Oh, thank you!” Now that Emma had found her voice, it vibrated with the deepest joy. “Pa, look! I have a real doll! Not just a wooden carving, but a real doll!”

“I see that, Emma.” Jacob’s eyes twinkled.

Emma squeezed her doll tightly. “Oh, I do hope you can stay with us.”

Silence.

Libby stared hard at the ruffle hemming her skirts. She could feel Jacob’s gaze on her, feel his silence.

“Well, now, Emma, you know we’ll just have to wait and see how things work out.” His words came gently, like a loving touch.

Libby’s eyes smarted. Maybe she wasn’t pregnant.

“Pa, Miss Hodges has to stay. Everything is going to be perfect. I just know it.”

Libby glanced up. Jacob pinned her with his hard, assessing gaze. Her heart kicked in her chest. If only he could understand.

“Dinner’s ready!” a woman’s voice called from the door, fracturing the tension strung as tight as a clothesline.

“Thanks, Jane.” Jacob snagged hold of the harness, turning his back to Libby. “I’ve got to take care of these horses. Emma, take Miss Hodges into the cabin.”

“Can I show her my room?”

Libby closed her eyes. She could feel dreams slipping between her fingers, impossible to grasp.

“Just don’t keep Jane waiting.” Jacob led the horses off, the buckboard rattling over the rocks and ruts in the yard.

“Jane made chicken pie.” Emma slipped her small hand inside Libby’s. “I helped her. I got to make the dough and everything.”

Libby stared down at the hand within hers, so small and trusting. “I bet it will be the best chicken pie I’ve ever had.”

“Jane put carrots and peas in it.” Emma led the way across the dusty front yard toward the snug cabin.

Heavens. Libby paused in the threshold, glancing about the pleasant room with its puncheon floors and log walls and simple furnishings. Emma bounced through the front room as if there were nothing special about the solid walls so carefully made and sealed tight against the winds. But to her...this cabin came right out of her dreams.