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Authors: Karen Kirst

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BOOK: Reclaiming His Past
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Mr. Fisher appeared beside them. “Mr. Parker, why don't we go into the dining area. Rose, you will accompany us and answer the gentleman's questions.”

Responding to her employer's unruffled manner, she calmed somewhat. “Yes, sir.”

His headache blossoming to massive proportions, Grant tried to reclaim calm. His desperation had frightened the poor woman. If he wanted answers, he was going to have to lessen the intensity.

When they'd been seated at a table in the far corner of the spacious room, the manager informed him that a Mr. Aaron Parker had indeed stayed two nights there.

Aaron. The name struck Grant as familiar.

“Rose, what can you tell us about our guest?”

Her hands tightly woven together, she said, “Mr. Parker was very kind and friendly. I believe he was lonely. He said he traveled around the country a lot because of his profession.”

Grant found his voice. “What did he look like?”

“Like you, actually. When I saw you from behind, I thought it was him. You have the same fair hair and skin color, but his eyes were green, not blue.” She blushed and looked down at her lap. “And he was a few years younger.”

“Do you think we look enough alike to be related?”

Her gaze lifted to his. “Yes, I do.”

Aaron.
The edges of his vision blurred. In his mind, he saw an office. A young man. Talking and gesturing. A silver star pinned to his shirt.

The room tilted. Grant slapped his palms flat on the table. He flashed hot. Then cold.

“Mr. Parker? Are you all right?” The manager's voice barely penetrated the dizziness.

“He's gone pale,” Rose exclaimed. “Is he going to pass out?”

“Go and fetch some water,” Fisher ordered.

“I'm okay,” Grant muttered, embarrassed that he'd had an episode in front of strangers. “I had a memory. I think it was of him. Aaron Parker.”

“Would you like a room to rest in, sir?”

“No.” Rose brought the glass of water, hovering nearby while he sipped the cool liquid. “I'll be fine in a moment.”

“Go ahead and return to your work, Rose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Obeying the manager at once, she rushed from the dining area. Grant watched her, wondering if she had more information that could aid his search. Fisher stood and, re-buttoning his suit coat, gave him a warm smile.

“You're welcome to sit here as long as you like, Mr. Parker. Our kitchen staff is still preparing breakfast. Let any of them know if you'd like coffee or something to eat.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help.”

“I wish you luck in finding the answers you seek.”

Grant stared out the window, his optimism tempered with the knowledge that he had no idea where to find Aaron. Kentucky was a vast state. And who knew if he was still there or had moved on.

He wished with everything in him that Jessica was here, the need to see her, talk to her, find solace in her embrace eclipsing all else.

Chapter Eighteen

“H
ere, kitty.”

Clutching the ladder sides, Jessica beckoned the reclusive cat. The glow from the single lantern she'd brought in didn't extend to the hayloft. She knew Cinders was up here. She'd caught a glimpse of her tail as she navigated the ladder.

“I just want to pet you, silly thing.”

And why, exactly, was she seeking out a feline who disdained her?

She told herself again that Grant was fine. Just because it was going on midnight didn't mean they'd encountered problems.

Glaring into the darkness, she spied a pair of glowing eyes. “I see you, you little minx. I don't think it's fair that you ignore the one who feeds you while lavishing all your attention on
him
.”

“Who are you talking to?”

The unexpected response startled Jessica. She yelped. As she jerked, the sole of her boot slipped from the rung.

A pair of strong, male hands settled on either side of her waist. Warmth spread outward from his touch, heating her skin through the fabric. “Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you.”

“Grant.”

He assisted her to the ground, then sank his hands in his pockets, his lopsided smile making up for every second of worry.

“I didn't hear the team in the yard.”

His intent gaze swept the loose waves tumbling about her shoulders. “I had Nathan drop me off at the end of the lane.”

She belatedly noticed his borrowed travel bag sitting just inside the open door. His stubble was close to becoming a full beard, his shirt wrinkled from being stuffed in the bag. Dirt clung to his boots. He looked adorably rumpled. To keep from launching herself into his arms, Jessica finger-combed her hair with long, thorough strokes.

“So who were you addressing up there?” He jerked his chin toward the loft.

Craning her neck, she spied a furry face peering at them. “That turncoat right there.”

He chuckled as Cinders leaped onto the floor using a series of landings, then trotted over to wind herself around his legs. Her purring sounded like a rusty saw cutting through wood.

“Can I help it if she likes me?” Scooping her up, he scratched her between the ears and promptly sneezed.

Jessica shook her head. Going closer, she ran her hand along the cat's spine. Their hands overlapped. His smile faded. His gaze, fathomless like the ocean deep, searched hers. For what, she didn't know.

Dropping her hand, she cleared her throat. “How did it go? Did my cousins pester you to the edge of reason?”

His smirk was all the answer she required.

“That was a silly question.” She sighed. “I know them well enough to know that Nathan probably remained objective, while Caleb subjected you to the overprotective cousin routine.”

“Something like that.”

He grew serious then. Lowering Cinders to the floor, he took off his hat and paced to a hay square shoved against the wall, nudging it with the toe of his boot. Something was on his mind. Something big.

Her tummy flip-flopped. “Please tell me you didn't come to blows.”

Caleb could be overbearing and irritating at times, but surely he wouldn't have let things go that far.

“No. Nothing like that.”

She let out a long breath. “Did you find a clue to your identity?”

She waited, muscles tense as she braced herself for bad news.

“Apparently a US marshal traveled through Maryville not long ago who could pass for my brother.”

Shock shimmered through her. “You're serious.”

“His name is Aaron Parker.”

“You know this how?”

Continuing to pace, he told her about the unhelpful sheriff, the accommodating hotel manager and the young staff member who'd mistaken him for Aaron.

“Grant, this is wonderful news!” She held her arms out at her sides. “Why don't you look happy?”

“I'm cautiously happy. It's the breakthrough I've been praying for.” Shoving his fingers in his hair, he said, “But how am I to locate him? All I know is that he was on his way to Kentucky. Shane can't post letters to each and every lawman in the state. It will take considerable time to save enough money to hire a private investigator.”

“You could write the Marshals' headquarters. Aren't they in Arlington, Virginia?”

“You're right. I could.”

“But?”

His features were stamped with unease. “What if my resemblance to him is simply a fluke? We're going on the opinion of one young woman who I suspect was smitten with the man. What if I was operating on the wrong side of the law? Who's to say I didn't ambush him? He could've fought back and escaped. That could be his travel bag you found. His Bible.”

Jessica threaded her fingers through his, intent on making him see reason. “That is a possibility, albeit an unlikely one. The logical route north would be through Knoxville. He wouldn't have traveled this direction.”

“Maybe he had friends in this area.”

“Aaron was working. According to the sheriff, he was due in Kentucky to set up court proceedings. Do you think a marshal would disregard his duties to the federal government for an out-of-the-way stopover with friends?”

Hanging his head, Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't know.”

“Let's go with the improbable theory that you attacked him.” Still holding his hand, she trailed her other fingers up and down his forearm, the fine hairs soft and springy. His muscles twitched. “Why would he disappear? We searched the woods and found no one. He would've gone straight to the local authorities and reported you.”

“There's something else.”

“What?”

Slowly, deliberately, he described his most recent vision. “I can't shake the feeling that I knew him, Jess.”

“You could be his friend. Or a relative.”

“Or his prisoner.”

Jessica rejected that notion. It was too terrible to consider. “What are you going to do?”

His gaze flooding with tenderness, he smoothed her hair over her shoulder. “Right now, I'm going to escort my beautiful hostess to the house so she can get some rest.”

“What about you?”

“I'm going to clean up and then head to bed myself. We've got church in the morning.”

“That we do.”

At the door, she stopped abruptly.

“Did you forget something?” he asked.

In fact, she had. It was the first time in over a year that she'd been inside the barn and hadn't once thought about Lee.

* * *

“Glad to see you're feeling better, young man.” The reverend stood on the church's porch, shaking hands with the parishioners as they filed out. He resembled a penguin in his black suit and snowy-white shirt.

“Thank you, sir.”

He gave Jessica's hand a fatherly pat. “I heard you're embarking on a new business venture. Carole and I are anxious for one of your apple spice cakes. It's been a long time.”

He wasn't the first person to express his excitement. However, unlike the others, he hadn't vented confusion and irritation with the reclusive café owner.

“In that case, I'll be sure to put it at the top of my list.”

A stiff breeze whipped through the yard, and she put a hand to her hat's crown to keep it in place. The sun was nowhere in sight. Thick clouds stretched across the sky like a woolen blanket.

Her smile might've fooled the reverend, but not Grant. The strain of the attention they'd received throughout the morning services was wearing on her. Until today, he hadn't given much thought to how her association with him might possibly sully her reputation. She'd weathered a major scandal once already. He didn't plan to be the cause of another.

He didn't want to cause her pain. Jessica deserved to be loved and cherished by an upstanding man in the community. Someone respected and above reproach.

That wasn't him.

If he truly cared for her, he'd distance himself.

His chest spasmed painfully in rejection of that notion.
Don't be selfish, Parker. You may not have control over a lot of things, but you can control your actions.
He remembered the kiss, aware that in that moment, he hadn't been considering what was best for her.

As they descended the steep steps, he steadied her with a hand on her elbow. Any man should be proud to be by her side. Her outward attractiveness aside, she was courageous and spirited, tenderhearted and loving. Life with Jessica would never be boring.

Grant noticed a pair of men glaring daggers at him in the shade of a maple tree. He recognized them from that day outside the mercantile. “Your friends don't look happy to see you with me. I can walk on ahead if you'd like to visit with them.”

She noted their presence and frowned. “No, that's all right. I shouldn't linger. Ma's worried about the pot roast drying out.”

With a brief wave, she continued past, her rust-colored dress rippling with each long stride. The color put him in mind of a copper penny.

“I've been meaning to tell you something,” he said.

Boots thudding on the boardwalk, they passed businesses closed for the day.

“While on our trip, your cousins and I discussed my current living arrangements. I think it's best if I find other temporary lodgings.”

Her chin jutted and lightning flashed in her stormy eyes. “Caleb insinuated you're a burden to us, didn't he?”

“He brought up a valid point. My injuries have almost completely healed, and I'm able to work on a consistent basis. Staying on with you and Alice will only serve to stir up gossip. I don't want that for you.”

“You can't stop it. Folks will talk no matter what we do.”

“I thought you'd be throwing a party,” he teased, lightly bumping her shoulder. While unhappy, he wasn't about to show it.

Turning her face away, she studied the river. “I won't miss the extra laundry. Or your derogatory comments about my food preferences.”

“And I won't have to watch you eat what any sane person would consider disgusting.”

They came to the bridge. “Do you have any prospects?”

“Your cousins are looking into it.”

“Cinders will miss you. You should take her with you.”

“I'd like that, but it's hardly practical. We don't know if I'll be leaving Gatlinburg a free man or heading off to prison somewhere.”

Jessica abruptly rounded on him. “You know, when I first met you, I got the sense you were an optimist.”

He stopped. “I'm a realist. There are two possible outcomes. Either I'm on the right side of the law, or I'm not.”

“You know, it's a good thing you're moving out. Some space will do us good.”

Whirling away, she marched away from him. He quickly caught up to her. Snagging her arm, he forced her to slow down. “Not so long ago,
you
were the one with the wild theories about my true identity.”

“I didn't know you then,” she retorted, wriggling free.

“Jess, why are you upset?”

“Why? Maybe because I can't stand the thought of you turning out to be just another criminal like Lee. Maybe because I know how devastated you'll be if you do.” Tears glistened in her eyes but didn't fall. “I once told you that you didn't matter. That was a lie. You're important to me, and that scares me.”

Grant closed his eyes and, sucking in a fortifying breath, asked God for wisdom.

“Jessica, you and I...we can't be together.”

“You think I don't know that?” she demanded. “After Lee, I promised myself that I wouldn't take foolish risks with my heart. You, Grant Parker, are the biggest risk of all. I said you're important to me. It wasn't a confession of love.”

He felt ridiculous and annoyed. Ridiculous, because he'd made the wrong assumption. Annoyed, because she'd so cavalierly declared she wasn't in love with him. He was tempted to howl in frustration.

What was wrong with him?
Of course
she shouldn't have romantic feelings for him. He was all wrong for her.

It bothers you that she loved Lee, though, doesn't it?

And the memory of their kiss would always stick with him. Even now, he could imagine hauling her into his arms and repeating what they'd done on her porch, despite the fact it was broad daylight and anyone could pass by at any moment.

“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I shouldn't have leaped to such an unlikely conclusion. I appreciate your concern. And I agree with you on one point. A little distance would do us good.”

BOOK: Reclaiming His Past
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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