Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage Agreement\Cowgirl for Keeps\The Lawman's Redemption\Captive on the High Seas (18 page)

Before exiting, Fanny made eye contact with the hotel employee. “Thank you, Harold.”

“You're most welcome, Miss Mitchell, I mean...” he cleared his throat, slid a worried glance at Jonathon “...Mrs. Hawkins.”

With Jonathon indicating she take the lead, Fanny stepped into the hallway. But not before she caught him handing Harold a bank note and then thanking him for his hard work on behalf of the hotel.

Fanny's heart swelled with affection. Her husband was such a generous man.

Her husband
. She felt a rush of feminine pride that this man was hers.

Would she ever grow used to being married to him? She hoped not. She hoped she would always be full of this same sense of wonder whenever she looked at him.

“This way.” Jonathon settled his hand on Fanny's lower back and escorted her to his—
their
—private suite on the top floor of the hotel.

He opened the door with his key and again directed her to take the lead.

She stepped inside the room.

For a moment, all she could do was blink in muted astonishment. This was her first glimpse into Jonathon's private world and it fell incredibly flat.

“I don't know what I expected but...
this
?” She stretched out her hand. “Isn't it.”

Jonathon followed the direction of her gaze, narrowing his eyes as if trying to see his private domain from her perspective. “Would you like a tour?”

“I suppose.” But what would be the point?

Though the space was certainly luxurious and spectacular, especially compared to the single-bed rooms, there was no sign of Jonathon anywhere. Gleaming woodwork adorned the walls. The dark grain contrasted perfectly with the rich burgundy and gold tones of the furniture and draperies. The elegant chairs and settees were upholstered with a swirling brocade pattern.

Tasteful restraint ruled the first bedroom he showed her, the muted ivory and green hues a pleasant divergence from the vibrant colors in the common areas.

The more Fanny followed Jonathon from room to room, the bleaker her heart grew. The cold, impersonal decor was clear evidence that her husband hovered on the fringes of life, not really connecting, but instead remaining cool and distant.

She remembered what her sister-in-law had said about him as a boy.
He kept a part of himself separate from the other children. He was friendly, but he didn't have a lot of friends.

Nothing had changed for Jonathon, despite his financial wealth and business success.

Fanny longed to wrap her arms around him and chase away the memories of his childhood. She longed to show him he was not alone and that he was loved.

If only he would let her.

In strained silence, he led her into another bedroom, this one done in soothing tones of various blues.

“I thought you would claim this room for yourself. It's the largest and most comfortable.” His lips curved in a gentle smile. “You may, of course, redecorate to your specifications. I'm thinking the colors are a bit masculine, however—”

“This is
my
room?” It appalled her to feel hot tears of disappointment gathering in her eyes.

“Unless you would prefer one of the others I have already shown you.” He compelled her with only his eyes. “I want you to feel comfortable here, Fanny.”

Didn't her husband realize that sharing his room would make her the happiest of all? That starting a family with him was what she wanted most in this world?

She'd seen him interacting with her nieces and nephews at various times throughout the day. He enjoyed children, more, she thought, than even he realized. He would be a good father. Fanny knew it. Annabeth knew it. It seemed everyone knew it except Jonathon himself.

Of course, now was not the time for that discussion.

“Where will you sleep?”

His eyebrows slammed together in masculine bafflement. “In my bedroom, of course.”

“Which is where, precisely?”
Please don't say in another suite, or worse, on another floor
. Anything
but that
.

“My room is on the opposite side of the suite.”

A moment of relief filled her. At least they would be living in close proximity. It was a start.

A very good start, indeed.

Summoning up her brightest smile, Fanny glanced around her new home and then back at her husband. “Thank you, Jonathon, this room will suit my needs perfectly.”

For now
.

Chapter Eighteen

J
onathon knew he was in trouble the moment Fanny turned docile and compliant. She was many things, but neither of those came to mind.

What was she up to?

He eyed her cautiously. “I'll have your belongings brought up from the other suite in the morning.”

Her smile never wavered. “That'll be fine.”

The overly polite response put him further on guard. “Is there anything else you'll want or need?”

“Not at the moment, no.” She took a step toward him.

He took a step back and cleared his throat. “I thought we would share a late supper before we call it a night. I had room service deliver an assortment of cold meats and—”

“That sounds perfectly wonderful.”

“I haven't finished telling you what I ordered for us.”

Still smiling, she closed the distance between them and placed her hand on her chest. “I'm sure whatever the chef sent up will meet with my expectations.”

Her low, accommodating voice poured warmth over the tense moment.

Jonathon quickly strode back to the main sitting area, where the staff had set up a small, intimate table for two.

An overabundance of meats, cheeses, breads and sugary confections were arranged in an artful display. Candlelight completed the romantic setting.

Fanny took her time examining the fare. She circled the table, running her fingertip along the edge of the pristine white linen cloth. Jonathon stood transfixed by her beauty. Her hair glimmered beneath the glow of the fire that snapped in the hearth.

“The setup is quite lovely, Jonathon.”

Not nearly as lovely as Fanny was, swathed in golden firelight.

He cleared his throat again. “Would you prefer to eat here at the table? Or we could fill our plates and relax in the chairs over by the fireplace.”

“I should think either option sufficient.” The words sounded like cream in her soft, feminine voice.

Something inside him snapped. “Could you stop being so agreeable?”

Amusement entered her eyes. “You would wish me to be contrary instead?”

“Of course not.” He drew in a sharp, impatient breath. “I wish...”

“You wish...?” she prompted, when he held his silence.

His breath stalled in his lungs.

What a picture she made, innocence and purity itself in her pretty wedding dress. He didn't regret marrying her, but he feared she would grow to regret marrying him. And that would be a tragic day, indeed. He felt as though he was seeing her for the first time, with the eyes of a husband.

He was in big trouble.

“Come here, Jonathon.” With the faintest trace of nerves shadowing the move, she lifted her arms.

The emotion that swept through him when he pulled her into his embrace was like an unexpected thunderstorm that blew in out of nowhere, then was suddenly gone, leaving nothing but a sense of calm in its wake.

“Fanny.” He buried his face in her hair, breathed in her scent of lilacs and mint.

Fanny belonged in his arms, in his life.

For a terrifying moment, he could hear nothing but the voice of his father on their first meeting.
You were a mistake never meant to happen
.

Jonathon knew it was a lie.

Fanny had taught him to see past the deception.

He kissed the top of her head, stroked her hair. When she pulled back to look at him, he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss started gentle, but it quickly got out of hand. He immediately set her away from him.

“Jonathon?” Confusion filled her eyes.

“Don't look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

He put his back to her, speared a hand through his hair. It was easier to have this conversation without meeting her gaze. “You are looking at me as if you want the one thing I warned you I couldn't give.”

“Oh, Jonathon, you're both right
and
wrong. I do want something from you.” She threw her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. “I want you to know you aren't alone anymore. You'll
never
be alone again. I am here with you, always and forever.”

Her words whipped through him like a balmy gust of wind. “I believe you.”

He attempted to shift away from her.

Making a sound of protest deep in her throat, she worked her way around him until they were facing each other again.

No one had ever looked at him the way she regarded him now, as if she had every faith in him, as if he was the answer to all her hopes and dreams.

He had no armor against that look.

To keep from reaching out to her, he clenched his fists behind his back. He must not touch her. Not until they came to an understanding.

“You're tired.” He saw the truth of it in the slight slump of her shoulders and the drooping of her eyelids. “Perhaps we should set aside any serious conversation until morning.”

“No.” She jammed her hands on her hips. “There's more to discuss.”

She was quite spectacular glaring at him, her eyes full of purpose in the dazzling firelight.

He swallowed a grin. “All right, Fanny, have your say.”

His agreement took all the iron out of her spine.

Sighing softly, she lowered her hands to her sides. “You are very good at keeping your distance from others, but it isn't necessary with me. One day you will know I speak the truth.”

He knew it now and wondered why he continued fighting the inevitable. He could never have a marriage in name only with this woman.

As if coming to a similar conclusion, she whispered his name. “Will you do me the honor of making me your wife?”

His very soul wavered between battle and surrender.

If he did as she asked, if he made their marriage real, he feared he would eventually let her down. Maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but sometime in the future.

“Once we cross this line,” he warned, “we can never go back.”

“Jonathon, we crossed the proverbial line when we said our wedding vows. All that is left is making the commitment final.”

A low rumble moved through his chest, sounded in his sharp intake of air.

“We have both had a long, tiring day,” he said. One he didn't want to end anytime soon. But he needed to give her one last chance to retire to her own room. “You may still say good-night and I will let you alone.”

In answer, she took his hand and smiled. “The tour of my new home is not yet complete. There is still one room you haven't shown me.”

The only room he hadn't shown her was his bedroom. As the meaning of her words became clear, a slow grin spread across his lips.

Jonathon scooped his bride into his arms.

By morning, Fanny would be his wife in every sense of the word. For her sake, he prayed he wasn't making a terrible mistake.

* * *

The next three months were the happiest of Fanny's life. She was a blissfully married woman. Jonathon was turning out to be a very good husband. Their relationship grew stronger every day.

Now, as she sat behind her desk and reviewed next week's bookings at the hotel, Fanny allowed a smile to spread across her lips. She was completely, wonderfully in love with her husband.

She hadn't said the words out loud. Not yet, but soon, she told herself, when she felt Jonathon was ready to hear them. Perhaps once spring chased away the last of the winter chill Fanny would unveil the full contents of her heart.

For now, she showed her feelings for her husband in countless other ways. In the brush of her hand across his cheek before they fell asleep at night. In the notes she left on his desk beneath papers for him to find. Or simply wrapped in one of her smiles.

Though there were moments when she felt as though Jonathon still held a portion of himself back from her, she knew that tendency would go away in time.

Fanny had no doubt he cared for her. He might even love her. Like her, he displayed his affection in ways other than words. In the gentle way he spoke her name. In the unexpected moments he showed up at her office and whisked her away for one of their delightful walks.

There was one thing missing in her life with Jonathon, one thing that would make her joy complete. A child. Jonathon's child.

Fanny set down her pencil and placed her hand over her flat stomach. Would she ever feel a baby's kick against her palm?

Annabeth and Hunter had welcomed their newest family member three weeks after Fanny's wedding, a little boy named Sean, who had his mother's dark hair and his father's amber eyes.

Garrett and Molly's baby was due in another two months. Now that Mary Mitchell's asthma was under control, Fanny's parents planned to travel to Saint Louis for the birth. They would stay only two weeks, then head home in time to welcome Callie and Reese's child into the world.

It was baby season in the Mitchell clan. And Fanny couldn't help but yearn.

Her stomach performed a sickening roll. Suddenly, her office felt small and overly hot. This wasn't the first time she'd felt the sensation. Over the past week, Fanny had battled bouts of queasiness at the oddest moments. Perhaps she was coming down with something. The flu had been making its rounds through the hotel staff.

Her head grew light. She needed to breathe in fresh air. Maybe she could entice Jonathon to join her for a brief stroll.

Swallowing back a wave of dizziness, she stood, left her office and made her way to Jonathon's. She found his assistant standing in the doorway, nose buried in the notepad he kept with him always.

“Is he in?” she inquired.

Burke Galloway looked up. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Hawkins, you just missed him. He had a meeting at Mr. Bennett's office across town.”

“Oh, that's right.” Before they'd left their suite this morning, Jonathon had mentioned having an appointment with Reese concerning a recent land acquisition.

“Was there anything I could do for you?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Galloway. I'll come back later.”

Still feeling a bit light-headed, Fanny decided to take a short walk, anyway. After retrieving her coat and gloves, she left the hotel through the front doors and breathed in the cool air. Lifting her face to the sky, she concentrated on the glorious blue overhead. Her nausea almost immediately disappeared.

Just as she lowered her gaze, a masculine voice reached her ears. “Miss Mitchell, may I join you on your walk?”

A prickle of unease navigated up her spine. “I am Mrs. Hawkins now.”

“Of course, my apologies. May I join you on your stroll...Mrs. Hawkins?” As he made his request a second time, Jonathon's father stood unmoving. The air around him crackled with arrogance.

Lowering her lashes to cover her surprise at his sudden appearance, Fanny couldn't help but wonder what Judge Greene wanted with her. Even acknowledging him made her feel as though she was betraying Jonathon.

But when she looked more closely, she saw the signs of strain on the judge's face. He looked older and somehow less sure of himself, despite the arrogant tilt of his head. From what Fanny had heard, he was still holding to his story that he'd only recently learned that Jonathon was his son.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what she truly thought of him. But then she remembered the portion of the Bible she'd read just this morning during her daily quiet time. The Lord commanded His children to love their enemies.

She should at least give it a try. But, truly, it was times such as these that Fanny wished she didn't know Scripture quite so well.

Jaw tight, she gave a short nod. “You may have five minutes of my time.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

Love thy enemy
, she reminded herself.

Her clenched jaw began to ache.

The judge gestured with his hand for her to continue walking. When she did, he fell into step beside her.

She could not fault his manners.

Gaze locked on the mountains in the distance, she expected him to speak. Surprising her yet again, he seemed content to walk beside her in silence.

She was not so patient.

Fanny stopped, waited for him to do the same, before saying, “State your business, Judge Greene.”

“I have a request to make of you, Mrs. Hawkins.”

She pursed her lips into what she hoped was a bored expression. “I'm listening.”

“I wish to make amends with my son.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he lifted an elegantly clad shoulder. “He refuses to speak with me, no matter how many overtures I make. I have come to ask you to intercede for me.”

Shocked by his colossal nerve, she stared at him. “You cannot be serious.”

“I assure you, I am.” He crowded her as he spoke, moving around her like a hawk circling its prey.

She backed up a step, and another, and then several more, until she found herself against a brick wall.

“Even if I had the sort of influence on my husband you seem to think, I would never wield it in such a manner. I am sorry, Judge Greene, you are on your own.”

“All I'm asking is that you drop a kind word on my behalf.”

She dismissed his request with a delicate sniff. “You ask too much.”

“It is but one small kindness.”

Did he not recognize the hypocrisy in his words? “Where was your kindness to my husband when he was a boy and came to you for help?”

The judge quirked an eyebrow at her. “I see my son has told you much.”

“Jonathon has told me enough to know you showed him no compassion when he was in need. Yet you ask me for the very consideration you refused to give him.” She realized that she could not love this particular enemy, no matter how hard she tried. “We are through here. I wish you a good day.”

She started to push around him.

He stepped directly in her path. “I need an heir.”

“You have an heir.”

“Joshua is a disappointment. I have tried to contain his excesses. I have forbidden him to carry on with his mistress, yet he continues and has even produced an illegitimate child. I will not encourage his willful disobedience any longer.” A muscle worked in the judge's jaw. “I have cut him off, once and for all.”