But For Grace (HEARTSONG PRESENTS - HISTORICAL) Read online

  “Seems to me, the lady needed to get away for her own protection.”

  The man gave him a slow, snide grin. “Don’t let her pretty face fool you. That girl stole a load of cash from my boss, and he wants it back.”

  Michael narrowed his gaze, trying to read the expression on the man’s face. “So why not go to the law?” He couldn’t imagine the innocent-looking girl stealing anything, but he’d been fooled by a beautiful woman before.

  “Well, the girl’s like a daughter to my boss. He don’t want her thrown in jail. Just wants what belongs to him.”

  The man strode the few steps to retrieve his pistol. Michael tensed, then breathed out as Clem retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped away as much of the mud as possible, and slipped the Colt back into his holster.

  Clem cleared his throat. “Helping Star out was real gentlemanly of you, Mister, but try not to interfere with things that ain’t none of your business next time. That girl’s trouble.” He glanced up and down the street, then locked his squinty-eyed gaze back on Michael. “Ain’t no sense trying to find her now. She’s likely holed up somewheres, waitin’ for dark.”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Michael watched him go. Unease crept through his gut at the thought of what might happen to the girl once that rough character got his hands on her, but he ignored the discomfort and excused himself with logic. He’d done all he could. The girl was more than likely long gone by now anyway. As the man had said, she was probably “holed up” until nightfall. Nothing he could do about that now. He’d tried to help her, and she’d refused his offer.

  A gust of wind blew across him, sending a shiver up his spine. Michael glanced nervously at the sky. If he wanted to make it home before suppertime, he’d better get the rest of Ma’s supplies and head for the farm. The way those clouds were rolling in, he knew he was in for a rough ride home.

  He couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying back to the girl’s luminous violet eyes as he strode toward the general store, made his purchases, then crossed to the livery to pick up his horse and wagon. Even as he tried to force away the image, another face flitted to his mind. Sarah. One smile from her painted lips was all it had taken for him to fall. And fall hard. Marriage followed shortly thereafter, and then the fighting began.

  He could still hear her mocking voice the day she told him she was carrying his child. “I married you to get away from Charles.” Tears of anger had flowed down her smooth face. “Now I’m going to lose my figure and be saddled with a brat. I wish I had never met you! Any life is better than this.”

  Sarah’s death during childbirth had been a sort of poetic justice. She was free from the life of a farmer’s wife. Free from raising a child she didn’t want. Free from the life she’d led before.

  Oh, he’d known what kind of woman she was when he met her, but his heart hadn’t judged. He had truly believed she wanted to change, to straighten out her tangled life. He’d been wrong. Sarah had used him the way she used all men. The only difference was, he had been fool enough to put a ring on her finger and take her home to meet his mother.

  The lessons he’d taken away from his disastrous, short-lived marriage had been hard learned. But learned well, nonetheless. He would never be fooled by another woman as long as he lived.

  Stepping into the livery, Michael pushed away the troublesome thoughts. Sarah had been gone for five years, but each time he allowed the memories to surface, the pain cut through him as though it were yesterday.

  “Morning, Mr. Riley,” Mr. Carlson, the silver-haired liveryman greeted him.

  “Morning.”

  “Team’s all hitched and ready to go, but that sky’s not looking too friendly. Best wait till the storm passes.”

  “Thanks just the same. I think I’ll settle up and be on my way.” There was no telling how long the bad weather might last, and if he hurried, he might stay ahead of it all the way home.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Michael handed the older man a couple of coins.

  Mr. Carlson took the money and turned his attention to an approaching wagon outside the barn.

  Michael walked to the back of the wagon and deposited his purchases among the other supplies he’d picked up the day before. Just as he started to climb into the seat, he heard a soft mewling sound coming from an empty stall. A kitten?

  He grinned. Aimee had been pestering him for a kitten. Maybe it was time he surprised his little girl with the pet. Still grinning at the thought of his daughter’s squeals of delight and strangling hugs, he opened the gate to the stall. The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. That was no kitten curled up in the hay. The girl was even more beautiful than he remembered, though he wasn’t sure how that was even possible.

  Michael swallowed hard as she let out a soft moan and shifted. His first instinct was to turn away, get into his wagon, and ride off without giving her another thought. But something stopped him short of doing just that.

  The innocence reflected in the wet lashes clinging to her tearstained cheeks and her soft, slightly parted lips melted his heart. Remembering the terror in her eyes, Michael knew there was no way he could turn her out and risk having her get caught. Whether she was guilty or not, he couldn’t do it. And he had the strong suspicion God had led her to him in the first place. To what end, he hadn’t the faintest idea; clearly, she needed help and evidently God intended for him to provide it.

  Gently, he bent and lifted her—blanket and all—into his arms. She moaned and opened her eyes. “You again,” she whispered. “Please don’t let him take me back.”

  “I won’t.”

  A sleepy smile curved her lips, sending Michael’s heart racing. He carried her to the wagon and laid her down among his packages. “Stay hidden,” he said, raising the blanket until it covered her from head to toe. When he left the town behind, he could remove the blanket. But for now, he wanted to avoid the chance anyone would notice the dark-haired beauty asleep in the back of his wagon.

  Shaking his head in annoyance at his weakness, Michael climbed up to the seat and flipped the reins. Would he ever learn to mind his own business where troubled women were concerned?

  Two

  “C’mon.”

  Star woke with a jolt as strong hands closed around her shoulders and jerked her to her feet. The wagon rocked beneath her feet.

  A scream tore at her throat. Clem had found her! With abandon, she began to kick for all she was worth. He was not taking her back to that saloon—not without a fight on his hands. She clamped her teeth down hard on his hand.

  “Hey! Ow!” He turned her loose. “Simmer down, Lady.”

  Star felt no sympathy for her attacker. If she had a gun, she’d shoot him dead without thinking twice about it. Blinded by panicked rage, she wheeled around, reared back, and belted him squarely in the jaw.

  Giving him no chance to finish, Star shoved hard, and he stumbled back toward the wagon gate. Gasping to catch her breath, she ventured a glance at his face. His brown eyes widened as he teetered along the edge of the wagon before crashing down to the ground. Him! Realizing her mistake, Star clasped a hand to her mouth.

  Bewilderment registered on his handsome face as he lay sprawled on the ground, rubbing his jaw. “I can’t believe you—”

  A loud clap of thunder reverberated across the sky. Star screamed, instinctively covering her head with her hands while another bolt of lightning reached from the heavens, splitting a nearby tree. A crack filled the air as half the tree toppled to the ground barely ten yards from where the stranger lay.

  Staggering to his feet, he shook his head as though to clear it. He stumbled to the wagon and offered her a hand.

  Expecting the hand to strike, Star shrank back.

  “Do you want to be hit by lightning?”

  Star hesitated. Again, lightning flashed, followed closely by a boom of thunder. A tingle raced up her spine, causing the hairs on her arms to stand up straight. She shuddered. Grabbing the proffered hand, she hopped f
rom the wagon and rolled underneath just as the heavens opened, sending a torrent of rain on the already damp earth. She eyed the stranger.

  He cupped his jaw, rubbing the spot she’d punched. He turned to her, capturing her with a steely gaze. Then he dropped his hand and scowled.

  A knot formed in Star’s stomach. It was probably just as well the storm made conversation impossible. She’d likely get an earful as soon as the skies quieted.

  Rain dripped through the wagon bed and slammed into their makeshift shelter from the side. Miserable, Star lay in a pool of muddy water for what seemed like hours. When the lightning and thunder moved away and the storm slowed to a gentle rain, the stranger rolled out of the shelter and looked at her expectantly.

  The water soaking into Star’s petticoats drenched her to the skin until her teeth chattered. With a sigh, she crawled out from under the wagon.

  “I–I’m sorry for punching you. B–but you scared me.”

  Eyeing her, he silently rubbed his chin and jerked his head, acknowledging her apology.

  “What’s your name?” She lifted her skirt and squeezed, sending rivulets of water to the rain-soaked earth. “I’m Star Campbell.”

  “Michael Riley.” He glanced her way, then gave her his back. “You’re not being very modest.”

  Star looked down and saw her pantalets clinging to her legs. Her cheeks grew hot. She unclenched her hands and let the skirt fall. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Just trying to wring it out.”

  “Well, let me know when you’re done.”

  Star cringed at the frustration in his voice. “I’m done,” she said, not wanting to provoke him any more than she already had, though the skirt still hung heavily from her waist.

  “Fine. I’m going to care for the horses.” He walked to the edge of the road where the horses were hobbled with rope and tethered to another rope that was tied between two trees.

  Star admired his careful movements as he approached the skittish animals. Speaking in low tones, he stroked first one, then the other. Moments later, when he walked back to her, he gave her a tight smile.

  “We can be thankful the only tree hit was that one over there,” he said, inclining his head toward the road ahead of the wagon.

  She nodded. He regarded her as though he expected her to comment, but Star couldn’t think of anything to say. He adjusted his hat and, with a shrug, made his way to the fallen tree. Each step was smooth and confident, inviting Star’s admiration.

  His irritation with her had been evident, but Star could tell he wasn’t the type to be violent. She knew a lot about men, and she’d wager a night’s tips he wouldn’t hit a woman, no matter how she provoked him. Still, she didn’t want to anger him, she wanted to help him—to repay the kindness he’d shown her thus far.

  Star watched as he struggled to lift the tree. She joined him, grabbing hold of the other end.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Obviously, you’ll never get this thing out of the road by yourself,” she said with a grunt. “I want to help.”

  Michael sent her a scowl. “Do you think we’re going to lift the whole tree?”

  Brow lifted, Star blinked. That was precisely what she’d thought. “What were you trying to do?”

  “Come here, and we’ll try to lift this end together. Maybe we can turn the thing around enough to get the wagon past.”

  Without a word, Star moved to his end of the massive half-tree.

  “All right. On three, lift.”

  She did. But the monster refused to budge.

  After three tries, they had made no progress whatsoever. Michael growled and gave it a sound kick.

  “That must have really hurt that old tree.” Star rolled her eyes. Men!

  He gave her a sheepish grin, sending her pulse racing. “It made me feel better.”

  “What are we going to do now?” A knot formed in her stomach. “Y–you’re not going back to Oregon City, are you?”

  “Don’t plan to.”

  Relief flooded Star, and she sank down wearily onto the tree.

  Breathing heavily from the exertion, Michael straddled the trunk, facing Star. He yanked off his hat, revealing thick, reddish-brown hair plastered to his head from a combination of rain and sweat. Star tried not to stare, but she found the scruff of a beard lining his jaw only added to this man’s appeal in a way that made her heart race.

  “What were you doing, hiding in that stall?”

  “What do you think I was doing?” Star retorted more sharply than she’d intended. She couldn’t help but be bewildered by her reaction to this perfect stranger. Many men had tried to catch her eye over the last few years, but none had been successful. That this stubborn, difficult man could send her heart into a tizzy bothered Star no end.

  Apparently taking no offense to the sharpness of her words, he simply nodded. “Don’t you have any friends? Family? Someone who would have taken you in?”

  “If I did, do you think I would have hidden in a barn and covered myself with a smelly, old horse blanket?”

  “Are you always this sharp-tongued when people try to help you?”

  Star bit back a retort. For now, she was at this man’s mercy, and it was pretty evident he was tiring of her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I do appreciate your help. After I kicked you, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d left me in that horse stall.” She cut her glance to him. “Why’d you carry me out of there, anyway?”

  His brow lifted, thoughtfully. “I’m not really sure. Maybe God led me to do it.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

  God? A thrill passed over Star’s heart. Oh, Mama, if only you could have lived to see that I was right about God. He does care about the likes of us.

  Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of her mother. Never again would she lay her head on Mama’s lap and feel gentle hands rubbing her hair. With whom would she share her secrets now? She longed for solitude so she could cry out her anguish.

  “What’s wrong?” Michael asked.

  Star glanced up, noting the bemused frown on his face.

  “Nothing,” she replied, blinking back the tears clouding her vision. It wouldn’t do to show her tears and elicit questions from him. She needed to distract him before he got nosy. Mustering the energy, she turned her prettiest smile on him. “Except that I’m so happy you stuck out your neck for me. Just think, I might have ended up being found by someone who isn’t nearly as charming and helpful as you are.”

  With a short laugh, he sent her a dubious look. “Save your flirting. It’s wasted on me.”

  Star’s cheeks burned. So flattery only worked on some men.

  She decided to change the subject. “Is your farm near a town?”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll need to find a position somewhere.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and winced when it made contact with his jaw.

  Star sucked in a breath. Hopefully, the painful reminder of her attack wouldn’t break the peace between them.

  “Hobbs is a couple of miles from my farm, but there isn’t much to the town. We just built a church. My brother’s the preacher.” Pride shone in his eyes. “We’ll use the building for the school too, soon as we find a teacher. There’s a small mercantile.” He gave her a wry grin. “Not much of one, but it’ll do in an emergency. Let’s see, what else? One of my neighbors is talking about opening a lumber mill, but he hasn’t made up his mind yet. Joe Grafton’s restaurant is always needing someone to serve the food, but Joe’s a pretty rough character from what I understand. Keeps running off the help. I guess that’s about it. Unless you know anything about blacksmithing or shoeing horses.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Star’s heart sank. The only position available to her was to serve food? Exactly the kind of job she wanted to avoid.

  “I–is that the only town nearby?”

  “ ’Fraid so. Other than Oregon City. But that’s a good half day’s ride.” He sent a wary look toward the sky.
“When the weather cooperates.”

  “Well, that’s not an option, anyway.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He eyed her reflectively. “Do you want to tell me why that man was chasing you?”

  Star averted her gaze to her fingers. Now what? She tried to think up a good lie, but as always, her mind went blank. She fumbled with her hands as the silence grew incredibly loud between them.

  “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me anything.” Michael stood suddenly, swinging his leg over the tree. “I’d better hook the team up to a chain. Looks like ol’ Pete and Dan are going to have to pull this monster out of the way if we’re to make it to the farm by nightfall. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to the hot meal waiting for me.”

  Hot meal? Star’s heart sank. Of course he must be married. He was at least twenty-five years old by her estimation. Someone would have snatched him up by now. She felt foolish, remembering her racing pulse when he’d smiled at her.

  “How will your wife feel about you bringing a woman home?” she called after him.

  “I doubt she’ll care since I don’t have a wife,” he replied over his shoulder.

  Star stood and followed him to the wagon. “But you said. . .well, then who is going to have a hot meal waiting for you?”

  “My ma.” Without looking up, he began to work with the team.

  “Do you mean to tell me you still live with your mother?”

  He shot her a quick glance and scowled. “No,” he said in a clipped tone. “She lives with me.”

  Star groaned inwardly. Mothers could sniff out a woman of questionable character a mile and a half away. And they couldn’t be sweet talked, either. She’d be tossed out on her backside before she could say, “Howdy do.” Star muttered an oath.

  “What did you just say?” Michael asked incredulously, straightening to his full height.

  She repeated the word.

  “Lady, you have a dirty mouth.”

  “Dirty? I only said. . .”

  “I heard you, and don’t think you can talk your way around this issue. I have a five-year-old daughter at home, and I will not have her exposed to such foul language.”