Grant pushed his plate away and, nursing the remainder of his coffee, watched Jessica drizzle Tabasco over her eggs and sausage. She’d come to the table later than usual. Another attempt to avoid him, no doubt.
Every night this week, he’d returned from the livery dirty, hungry and exhausted, and yet anticipating spending time with her. But she’d been conspicuously absent, off visiting her sister or working on harvest fair tasks. Evading him.
He drank in her fresh-faced beauty. Her hair shiny and slightly damp around her hairline from morning ablutions, she’d restrained it in her usual simple style, the yellow ribbon perky at this early hour. It would droop and slip as the day progressed, and he wouldn’t be here to fix it. Her ruby ring flashed on her hand. Had that been a gift from Lee?
Of its own accord, his gaze found her mouth, and he hated himself for wondering if she’d kissed her former beau the way she’d kissed him.
His gut burned. Getting out of town, if only for a day, would give him a chance to regain the right perspective. To dull the memories of their embrace and extinguish this relentless drive to be near her.
Alice indicated his plate. “Would you like seconds? You’ve a fair distance to travel today.”
“No, thank you.” Patting his stomach, he said, “It was delicious, though.”
Finally tuning in to their conversation, Jessica’s gaze skipped from her mother to him. “Travel? Where are you going?”
“I’m riding along with your cousins Caleb and Nathan. While they’re getting the best price for the chestnuts, I’ll be visiting Maryville’s sheriff. Maybe talk to the local shopkeepers and see if I can get any leads.”
Her fork hit the table with a thunk. “And what if someone recognizes you?”
“I can only pray that happens.”
Her disquiet deepened. “What if it’s someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart?”
Touched by her concern, Grant patted the weapon in his holster. “I’ll have this handy.”
Alice observed their interaction with motherly patience, as if they were squabbling kids. “Well, I think it’s a good idea. And it’s kind of Mr. Warring to give you the time off.”
“He wasn’t thrilled about it.”
Grant had given his all to the job. While a tad mundane for his liking, it satisfied him by offering him a chance to earn a wage with honest labor. His initial earnings would go to Alice and Jessica to reimburse them for the many meals they’d fed him and the clothing they’d bought him. The rest he’d use to fund his new life, a fresh start in a city far from here.
He couldn’t live in the same town as Jessica and not eventually give in to this unhealthy attachment he felt to her. That wouldn’t be fair to her.
“He must be pleased with your work.” Ambling out of the chair, Alice gathered her dishes. “Jessica, I’m going to prepare a quick snack for Grant to take with him. Then the kitchen will be all yours.”
The floorboards creaked with her departure. Jessica sank against her chair back, her appetite apparently forgotten as she stared at her uneaten meal.
“What did she mean by that?”
Twisting her hair into a long coil, her gaze speared his for long moments before falling away. “I’m going to sell my desserts at the mercantile.”
Surprise filtered through him. “When did you decide this?”
“Yesterday. Quinn and I ironed out the agreement. He’s confident we’ll both make money.”
The fact that she hadn’t shared her monumental news with him shouldn’t hurt. You can’t play an essential role in her life. You made that clear, remember?
“Congratulations.” He drummed up a smile, truly happy for her. “I’m proud of you. It takes courage to pursue your dreams. I share your brother-in-law’s opinion. People will vie for your desserts.”
“When were you planning to tell me about this trip?”
“I bumped into Caleb in town Monday, and he mentioned they were going. I asked if I could tag along. I would’ve told you that night, but you haven’t been around this week.”
Looking chagrined, she said, “I’m always busy right before a community event.”
He didn’t buy the excuse. No point arguing the point, though. She was dealing with the repercussions of Sunday night’s embrace in her own way.
“Right.” Downing the last of his drink, he pushed away from the table. “Your cousins will be here shortly. I’ve got to get my things.”
Ten minutes later, he left the cabin as Caleb and Nathan arrived in separate conveyances. He helped them transfer the women’s bushels into Nathan’s wagon. He had one foot on the wheel, about to haul himself up, when Jessica hurried onto the porch.
“Grant.” Jogging up to him, she thrust a cloth-wrapped parcel into his hands. “I made molasses cookies yesterday while you were at work. They’re still fresh. I thought you might like some to take with you.”
From his perch high on his wagon parked behind theirs, Caleb watched their exchange with a narrowed gaze. Nathan looked intrigued.
Grant’s smile was strained. “Thanks, Jess. I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.”
Worry shimmered in her luminous eyes, and the need to soothe away those worries nearly overpowered him.
“You’ll be careful?”
Finding her hand in the folds of her skirt, he gave it a firm squeeze. “Of course. We’ll be home late tomorrow night. Don’t want to miss another week of church services.”
“Are you two done? Because I’d like to reach Maryville before supper.” Caleb scowled his displeasure.
Reluctantly, he hoisted himself onto the weathered seat and tipped his hat. The fact that he hated to leave her, even for a short trip, indicated serious problems ahead. Because he wasn’t sticking around forever.
Nathan waved to her and set the team in motion. He didn’t ask any questions as they left Gatlinburg behind. After several side glances at the bundle in Grant’s lap, Grant offered him a cookie. Nathan grinned his thanks.
Grant centered the conversation on the man’s wife and the impending arrival of their twins. The middle O’Malley brother was more reserved than the others, in possession of a keen mind and steadfast demeanor. If Nathan was anxious about becoming a first-time father, he didn’t show it. The girl he’d married had grown up on a neighboring farm. They’d been friends since childhood, and he hadn’t seen her as anything more until she nearly married someone else. Grant experienced a twinge of envy. Would he ever have a wife and family of his own? Or would he be relegated to a life of solitude, forever wondering, yearning for something he couldn’t have?
He repeated the same prayer he’d uttered while waiting for sleep to claim him the night before. Guide me on the right path, Lord. Lead me to people who can provide clues to my identity. A verse from Psalms popped into his mind. I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. God’s promise brought comfort and confidence.
The conversation turned to neutral subjects. He could only be thankful he hadn’t had to ride with Caleb. He wouldn’t have hesitated to interrogate Grant.
The route was a scenic one and well-traveled. The sun was nearly kissing the horizon by the time they reached their destination. Maryville was a large, bustling city tucked amid rolling, green fields, the larger mountains they’d left behind giving way to foothills arrayed in their autumn glory. They would spend the night on the outskirts to save the cost of a hotel bill. When they had readied their camp and eaten the meal the women had sent along, Grant announced his intentions of going to see the sheriff.
Caleb pointed out a horse. “You’re welcome to take that one.”
“My legs are stiff from the long ride. I’ll walk. Thanks anyway.”
Nathan offered to tag along. “Jessica wouldn’t be too happy with us if we let you get whacked on the head again.”
“Or mugged and held at gunpoint.” Using a wagon wheel as a back rest, Caleb sat with one knee drawn up to his chest, his arm resting on it while he twiddled a blade of grass between his fingers. “What’s with the hand-holding and the special treatment? You notice she only gave you cookies. You were supposed to be keeping your distance.”
Nathan tossed another log on the fire. Sparks danced in the air. “How’s he supposed to do that when they live under the same roof?”
“Maybe it’s time you found other lodgings, seeing as how you have a steady income.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve been giving the matter some thought.”
Leaving the O’Malleys’ home wasn’t what he wanted. But he couldn’t be dependent on their hospitality indefinitely.
“We’ll be happy to ask around on your behalf.”
Caleb’s offer and accompanying smirk stayed with him during the short walk into town. While he respected the other men, their continued distrust rankled. He craved a good name and solid reputation. Without it, his intentions would constantly be evaluated, his character called into question, his actions judged.
Asking the first man he encountered for directions to the jail, he found it between a leather shop already closed for the day and a quiet café emitting the mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken.
The desk was vacant, the spacious, high-ceilinged room draped in shadows.
“Hello?”
Snoring came from one of the cells. Walking over, he saw that the sleeping stranger sprawled on the cot wore a sheriff’s badge. All the other cells stood unused.
“Excuse me.”
When there came no response, Grant entered and cautiously nudged his shoulder. The sheriff fumbled into an upright position. His considerable paunch quivering, he ran a hand over thready patches of remaining gray hair. “Who are you?”
Grant stepped backward through the cell door, hands raised in a gesture of innocence. “The name’s Grant Parker, and I’m in town with some acquaintances of mine from Gatlinburg. I was hoping to ask you some questions.”
“Parker, eh?” Brushing past, the sheriff ambled to his desk and opened the top drawer. He slapped a piece of rumpled paper on the desk. “Got this letter from your sheriff a week or so ago. Kept meaning to write a response, but I’ve had my hands full with town business.”
Grant had a feeling it was more a case of laziness. The man’s office was as messy as his person. His too-tight shirt boasted stains on the front. And the stench of sweat had nearly overpowered him a moment ago.
“So you’re familiar with my situation?”
Hefting up his waistband, the sheriff dropped into his chair and sighed. “I am. Afraid I can’t help you. The only Parker I’ve come across was a young marshal who passed this way about a month ago. And you ain’t him.” He picked at his teeth with his fingernail. “I never forget a face.”
Grant sat without permission into one of two chairs facing the desk, his spirits sagging. “He was a US marshal? Don’t their badges look like silver stars?”
“Sure do.”
“What was he doing in the area?” When the lawman frowned, Grant added, “If you don’t mind my asking. I’ve had flashes of that badge. Maybe I knew him.”
“He didn’t have business here. Said he was on his way to Kentucky to set up court proceedings.”
Grant’s mind raced, frantic for a breakthrough.
A distinctive rumble filled the silence. “My nap ran long, which means I missed supper.” Standing, the sheriff fiddled with the keys dangling from his belt loop. “I’ve gotta hurry if I wanna make it to Millie’s before closing time.”
Grant followed the man out onto the street. “I’ll be in town until tomorrow evening around this time if you think of anything else that might help.”
“Sure, sure.” He waved him off, his mind no doubt already on his upcoming meal.
Grant stared after the retreating figure, hands fisting into balls as disappointment collided with frustration. How come the one man with a promising clue turned out to be incompetent?
* * *
Grant woke the next morning with a pounding headache.
He’d lain on his pallet staring up at the stars for hours, reviewing the details of his dream and vision, desperate to remember.
The coffee tasted acrid on his tongue, the day-old biscuit nearly choking him. To Caleb’s and Nathan’s credit, they kept their distance. They’d ridden into town together and dropped him in front of the first hotel they came to. The plan was for him to meet them at the café beside the jail at six o’clock. They’d eat there before heading home.
Grant sized up the modest establishment. The exterior of the brick building was in good condition, the windows clean and shutters sporting fresh paint. Removing his hat, he fluffed his hair and strode inside, where he asked the attendant to direct him to the manager.
The manager’s neat appearance and professional manner was a major improvement over the sheriff’s. “Lawrence Fisher,” he introduced himself as they shook hands. “What can I do for you?”
Grant explained what he was after, and the gentleman graciously agreed to check his ledger.
Grant examined the furnished lobby while he waited.
“Mr. Parker?”
The feminine voice behind him held a note of pleasant surprise. As he spun on his heel, spurts of adrenaline dumped into his system. The young woman wore a uniform of black and white, and her blond curls were partially hidden by a cap.
“Do you know me?” His fingers crushed his hat’s crown.
She blinked up at him. “My apologies, sir. I thought you were someone else.”
Grant edged closer. “Was this someone a US marshal? Can you give me his description?” The blood rushed through his ears. “Why would you mistake me for him? Do we favor each other?”
Apprehension gripped her rosy features, and she took a step back. “I—I have duties to attend to. Good day—”
“Wait—” He extended a hand.
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.