Books by Regina Tittel

Abandoned Hearts

vol. 1 of The Ozark Durham Series

Unexpected Kiss

vol. 2 of The Ozark Durham Series

Coming Sequels by Regina Tittel

Coveted Bride

vol. 3 of The Ozark Durham Series

Cherished Stranger

Vol. 4 of The Ozark Durham Series

Love For Lenore

Regina Tittel

LOVE FOR LENORE

Copyright © 2021 by Regina Tittel

Cover design by Regina Tittel

Photograph by Regina Tittel

All rights reserved.

All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version.

Chapter One

Lenore Wakesmith braced herself inside the covered wagon with her small brother held tightly against her side. The snow-covered pass tested her very core. Thus far, its trials had not been able to penetrate the strong bond she witnessed between her father and step-mother, but her own eighteen years of experience had begun to doubt the wisdom of their decision.

On their last stop, Father had fallen and injured his hip, her step-mother was fighting a cold and the weather had only proven worse. Lenore glanced at the figure of her half-brother now slumped against her deep in sleep. At least he didn't seem effected by the negative turn of events.

Their relatives were only three days away now. Surely they were past the worst.

Whine. Crack!

One side of the wagon dropped heavily, enough to wake her brother. He rubbed his eyes and looked around at their slanted surroundings. "What happened, Sissy?"

Before she could answer, Lenore heard a moan from her father. She had become conditioned to hearing his release of pain every time he dismounted the wagon, but the exasperated sigh that followed could only mean one thing.

Another set-back.

Lenore scrambled to the back of the wagon and pulled open the flap of canvas. She met her step-mother's worried gaze before the woman's cough disrupted them.

"Father," Lenore climbed out of the wagon, "what happened?"

With shoulders slumped, he turned away and stared at the sky. "Why? What have we done to deserve all of this?"

Lenore clasped a hand over her mouth at the sight of their last spare wheel. Its busted remains dusted the snow and splinters of wood punctured through the crusted top-layer. Lenore struggled to fight off the desire to fuel all the reasons they should have waited to travel. In the end, her thoughts won, but at least they were left unspoken. She knew the last thing her father needed to hear was another's disappointment in his decisions.

"Perhaps another wagon will come by shortly." Her step-mother's feeble voice belied the disbelief in her own words.

A chill wind swept around them, as if a premonition of their coming fate. Lenore refused to believe this would be their end. She was at her prime of life. A family, excited to meet them, were only days ahead. With their welcome held the promise of a good job for her father, friends for her step-mother, school for her brother, and a hopeful marriage for Lenore.

No, this would not be their end. Not if she could help it.

"Father-"

"Lenore-"

She and her father both began to speak at once. They exchanged polite smiles before her father continued.

"Lenore," he hesitated. "I'm not capable . . . you are the only one who can . . ."

"I know, Father. I'll go."

***

The forested path became dark with the loss of daylight. Where was she? How long had it been since the snow storm confused her direction? The weight of her numb feet made it difficult to walk. Yet she had no choice but to continue on.

A blanket of sleepiness enveloped her. The desire to curl up into a ball and sleep until morning weakened her reserve. A picture of her family huddled together in their wagon fueled her purpose. She had to get help.

In an effort to stay alert, Lenore pictured what life would offer in their new town. She had a cousin near her age. Would they become friends? Lenore hoped they would become as tight as sisters. She had never had a sister and always wished for such a relationship. But oddly enough, none of her letters had received a reply. She shoved away nagging thoughts of her cousin not welcoming her arrival.

And what of the possibility of marriage? Her step-mother had made mention of a couple of possible suitors. Would any of them take a liking to her? Would she them? Lenore had often dreamt of marriage, but only a marriage formed of love. She despised what some families did to their children, arranging marriages based on uniting wealthy families or simply for convenience. She had promised herself, from an early age, she would run away before succumbing to such imprisonment.

Without warning, Lenore's foot caught on a fallen limb. She pitched forward onto a half-buried animal trap. The clamp of its steel jaws reverberated throughout the forest capturing the sleeve of Lenore's coat and pinching her skin.

"Ahhh!" Lenore pulled against the trap which only increased the pain. Like a hot poker, it seared through her arm. "No! Oh, dear Lord, this hurts, get it off me!"

A howl sounded on the breeze. Lenore stopped struggling and listened. Was it caused by the wind through the trees or something much more frightening? She shivered and drew her body closer to the clamp, curling into a ball. How long would she have to remain here before someone found her? And would she be found alive? What about her family, they were depending on her to find help.

"Lord," she whispered, "please send them help."

Chapter Two

Heston Miller paused at the sound of the faint scream. He'd traveled half the distance home; to turn back now would leave him walking in total darkness.

The sound came again. He cocked his head to listen. It was like no other he had heard in the wilderness. The traps were reset, had he caught something again so soon? With a sigh, he turned around in his tracks. "Whatever you are, you'd better be worth it 'Cause come tomorrow, I'll need all the extra cash I can come up with."

The walk back was covered quickly because of his previous path. Heston came near his first trap and paused. With his rifle ready, he slowly stepped around the bend. Empty. He peered through the trees, thankful for the filtering moonlight.

The second trap proved just as empty. He considered turning back when the sound of sobbing reached his ears. Sobbing?

Heston quickened his pace. Wolves often frequented this part of the forest, he couldn't waste any time. Soon, he came upon the reason for the cry. Huddled into a fetal position was a woman. Her arm entangled with a limb and his trap.

Lord, let her be okay.

Heston knelt down beside her and with a voice that told of more calm than he felt, he reassured her, though with his own rough manner. "Calm yourself down, ma'am. I'm going to open the trap, and you pull your arm back quick as you can."

Frightened, doe-shaped eyes peered up at him with astonishment. "Thank you, sir. The Lord has surely heard my cry." Her lips were blue and her words were spoken with the slurred effects of the cold.

Heston pulled the trap open and reset it as the woman slowly pulled her arm free. He'd told her to do so with speed, but she was so cold, he realized it probably took all she had to move at all.

"Can you stand?"

Slowly, she nodded. He steadied her with his hand on her undamaged arm. She straightened to a stance, but with one step, her legs buckled beneath her. Heston caught her against his chest then swung her up in his capable arms. Her body trembled against his. "Don't worry, you'll be warm soon."

But would it be in time? Frost-bite did awful things to ones hands and feet.

Awkward as it was, Heston trudged through the forest with his gun and fresh hides thrown over his back and the woman in his arms. Snowflakes swirled around him with relaxed ease. The earlier storm had spent its fury, leaving a peaceful atmosphere in its wake. At least it felt peaceful to him, but what to this woman. Had she trudged through the storm? And from where? There wasn't anything for miles around.

Relief flooded his chest as the cabin came into view. Smoke still curled from the chimney promising a welcome warmth. He threw open the door and kicked it shut behind him with his foot. Striding the short distance across the room, he laid the woman on his bed. "I'll get some more warmth in here and we'll check out your hands and feet."

A feeble voice tried to reply but exhaustion had laid its claim. Heston didn't try to encourage her to repeat her words. Instead, he readied a pot to heat water and gathered as many blankets as he had.

Moments later he had his unexpected visitor propped in a chair, nearer the stove, with her gloves removed examining her fingers. "You're fortunate. Your fingers will survive. Just soak them in that warm water, while I check your feet."

Through heavy lids, she slowly nodded. The contact with the water seemed to bring some life back into her as she blinked and widened her eyes to look around. Heston smiled to himself, thankful he'd found her in time. He removed both boots but paused at her stocking-clad feet. He'd never touched a woman this much before. And though it needed to be done, he felt uncertain about removing her socks. It would certainly expose more skin than he'd witnessed on a woman, and the feelings her presence created was already more than he knew how to deal with.

"What do my feet look like? Am I going to lose my toes?"

Her sweet voice, though overlaid with worry, filled his cabin with a longed-for harmony.

At least it was still his cabin for tonight. Tomorrow would bring a much begrudged change.

Heston resumed his task with more force than necessary, trying to rid his thoughts along with the feelings this woman caused. He tore the socks from her feet exposing delicate, white skin. Thankfully, a healthy white, not the kind caused from frost-bite.

She leaned forward, "Oh, your warm hands feel good. My feet are so cold."

A smile tickled Heston's lips, but he kept his head down and concentrated on her feet. Rubbing vigorously, he brought some color back to her skin before setting them in the bowl of water. "How are your hands?"

With her eyes trained on him, she answered, "Better, thank you."

Heston tried not to look her direction. If she only knew the feelings he battled, she wouldn't be staring at him so innocently. But there was no place to hide, he'd have to rein them under control.

He grabbed a towel and dried her hands with purposeful efficiency. When he looked up, she still stared. Gray eyes, the color of a storm, pulled at him with curiosity.

"How did you find me?" Her voice, again, struck a chord in his chest.

Heston moistened his lips and broke eye contact. A silly woman, exactly what he didn't need. He shifted the towel to her feet and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

But his thoughts wouldn't rest. Perhaps she was exactly what he needed? An idea began to form in his mind, one that would secure his cabin to him, among other things.

He cleared his throat. "I heard you cry. You should be thankful I was out checking my traps, else the wolves might've found you first."

A gasp escaped her lips. "What about my family?"

Heston's brow furrowed. "What family? Are there others out there?" The thought disturbed him. If there had been others with her, where were they now? Why didn't she tell him when he'd been able to help? He glanced toward the cabin door.

"On the trail, my family stayed with the wagon. Will they be safe from the wolves?"

Heston sighed with relief. They had a wagon, they weren't left defenseless from the weather. And they were on a trail. What trail? The only trail he knew from the direction she'd come was distant enough it would free him of responsibility, at least he hoped. "If they're in the wagon, the wolves can't get them."

He stood and eyed her more closely. She seemed of moderate build, but certainly had no business in the woods all alone. "What were you doing out there?"

"Our last wheel busted and I was the only one able to handle the distance to get help."

"You know you are a far cry from the trail don't . . ." The next word died on his tongue as the woman untied her wool bonnet and slid it from her head, exposing hair the color of corn silk fresh from the stalk. Heston's breath froze. He longed to reach out and touch it, even more so when she allowed her cloak to fall from her shoulders. Her silken waves fell to her waist in a thick, healthy curtain.

She turned to where he now stood behind her. "What do you mean? Am I not near Gadstone?"

"Gadstone?" Heston shook his head. "You're a couple hours from Silverton, ma'am. That's south of your destination. Didn't you realize you were traveling downhill?"

She shook her head, confusion marring her pretty gaze. "I didn't. I was so bewildered with the snow blinding me. And so cold, so cold." Her voice faded in thought. "What will I do for my family? They need a new wheel to move on."

Grabbing a pot from the counter, Heston began to heat up left over beans from lunch. "I reckon I can help you with that, but I'll be needin' some help from you in return."

Wide eyes full of questions stared back. "From me? How can I be of help to you?"

"How old are you?"

Wariness crept into the corners of stormy eyes. "Eighteen."

"Are you spoken for?"

"Mister, I don't see any reason why you should be in need of such knowledge." She tightened her hands around the bonnet in her lap.

The wind picked up outside and howled against the cabin door. More than likely, it brought with it additional snow. If he had to travel the distance it would be to help her family, she was going to help him keep his cabin.

Chapter Three

Lenore stared at the man stirring her dinner. He seemed friendly enough, but what reason could he possibly have of needing to know if she were spoken for or not? How she wished she could answer yes. But she wasn't. Her relatives had mentioned some possible suitors, but thus far, nothing had been arranged.

"Well are you?" The man's impatience at her stalling began to show.

She fought the desire to hide her face, but instead forced herself to look his direction, though she avoided his eyes. "No. I am not."

"What's your name?"

Lenore swallowed and wished he'd offer water instead of questions. "Lenore Wakesmith. And yours?"

"Heston Miller, and I need your help if I'm to keep someone else from claiming this cabin."

Lenore's gaze widened as she turned to take in the stranger's home. "What do you mean, who would want this?" She stretched her hand out to encompass the one-room, windowless home.

Heston slammed the spoon down, his voice boomed with insulted pride. "This cabin happens to be sitting on some of the best trappin' grounds around. My home is what's keeping you warm. I built it with my own hands." He lowered his voice as he set the beans on to warm. "And come tomorrow, when I turn thirty, I lose it to a disreputable cousin if I'm not married."

Lenore jerked her head toward him. Had she heard right? "Married? Why? I don't understand."

"I inherited the land. But it came with a stipulation to make sure there was a family line to keep control. And since I haven't married, I don't have any lineage to hand it down to. That puts me out of the running. And the cousin I mentioned is all too eager to lay hands on it."

Lenore tensed as he stepped closer. She wasn't scared, yet, but the effect he had on her was foreign enough to keep her on guard. "If I may be so bold as to ask, why haven't you married? Aren't there single women in this town of yours–Silverton?"

"Ha!" He pulled up a stool and sat across from her, running his hands through wavy, red hair. "The women in Silverton are nothing but empty-headed, fancy hens who wouldn't know their way around a hide if it hit them. I'm a trapper. That means I bring in animals to skin, skins to cure, and skins to market. It wouldn't do me any good to marry one of those chattering women. I'm looking for a help-meet, someone who can work along-side me."

Lenore swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "But you don't actually expect to marry me?"

The man reached for a near-by lantern to increase their visibility of one another. Lenore gasped at the sharpness of his eyes; bright green and lined with lashes dark enough to make any girl envious. His intense stare caused a foreign, but not unwelcome, sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Do you have a better idea?" Heston's gaze moved from her face to her hair.

Lenore brought a hand to her head to smooth down her tresses. Her hair was most likely mussed from her bonnet. But she quickly realized that wasn't the problem. The green of the man's eyes darkened and a tense sensation filled the room. Where was that safe feeling she'd claimed a moment ago?

Heston set the lantern down at their feet. "I think we could get along okay, don’t you?"

"Wh-why do you think I'd consider your plan? I don't know you. Surely you don't think saving my life entitles you to my hand in marriage?"

His eyes flashed with temper as he stood. "I hope I didn't gage you wrong, thinking you had more sense about you than the town's women." He set out two tin plates before stirring the beans.

With more thrust than needed, he slopped a spoonful of their dinner onto each plate. "I told you if I trudged all the way back to help your folks, you would owe me a favor. I don't know why you're getting upset over the idea. You said yourself you're not spoken for. I didn't figure you being keen on becoming an old-maid."

Lenore gasped at his cruel tongue. But what could she say? To tell him she had planned to marry only for love would be asking him to laugh in her face. She glanced about the small interior, desperate for an escape.

"Are you going to join me?"

Heston's soft question left her baffled. Lenore turned and found him seated at the rough-hewn table set with two steaming plates of food. Her stomach rumbled in response, loud enough to be heard by her host.

His lips stretched into a smile as he tilted his head toward her plate. "Come on, I'll carry your chair."

His smile exposed a different man. Lenore stood, too perplexed to do anything else. He stepped toward her to reposition her chair at the table. Once seated, he offered his hand across the table.

Lenore furrowed her brow.

"I'll say the blessing."

This trapper prayed over his meals? One minute his temper flamed, the next he showed all the grace of a preacher. She slid her hand into his. A flash of heat passed between their palms. Had he felt it, too? She raised her eyes to find his already staring at her. A moment of silent consideration passed before he slowly lowered his lids, disconnecting the radiance of his green eyes. Lenore found herself able to breathe again . . . until his thumb raked across her knuckles.

". . . please keep Lenore's family in Your care and bless this union. Amen."

Chapter Four

Union. What did he mean by that? Could Heston have been referring to their dinner together or was he actually bold enough to think she would marry him? Lenore didn't know, but she certainly wasn't going to approach the subject again.

The comfort of the dinner, coupled with her tiresome day of walking left her sapped of strength. Unable to stifle a yawn, Lenore covered her mouth with her hand while the other propped her chin on the table. True, she'd been taught better manners, but if it weren't for her elbow, she'd fall asleep with her head on the table.

Heston cleared their plates then stood beside her. "I'd say you're done for the day." He helped her up then carried her to the lone bed. Lenore was too tired to concern herself with etiquette, and fell asleep as her head came to rest on the pillow.

***

Lenore stirred and opened her eyes. The morning sun carved a rectangle of sunlight around the single door. How late was it? She wasn't one to sleep in, but exhaustion had claimed her last night releaving her of her senses. One glance about the cabin confirmed she was alone. She sat on the edge of the bed and stretched. Where was Heston? Had he realized his demand was unrealistic and gone to fetch her family without her? But they wouldn't want to come here, they were to be on their way . . . and where would that leave her?

Before panic could settle in, voices sounded from outside. She recognized the smooth timber of Heston's voice, but who were the others? Smoothing the folds of her skirt, Lenore slipped on her shoes and bonnet.

Just as she finished with her laces, the door opened, revealing an enthusiastic Heston. Smiling, he reached for her hand. "Ready?"

Lenore winched as he pulled her arm through his. "That's my sore arm."

His brows furrowed in confusion before realization donned in his eyes. "From the trap? Let me see."

Heston didn't wait for her response as he unbuttoned the arm of her sleeve to expose where the trap had pinched her skin. Now black and blue, the bruise looked more menacing than the injury actually had been.

"Lenore," remorse filled Heston's voice, "I'm sorry I forgot to check this."

Embarrassed by his attention, Lenore pulled her arm back to her side. "It's okay. It doesn't hurt much, and it looks worse than it feels."

Pride filled his gaze. "This will definitely work. I was right. You're nothing like the women from town."

Before Lenore could rebuff his false illusions, the open door widened. "Well, well, you weren't pulling our legs. You really have yourself a bride. Let's get this done then, Heston, before that no-good cousin of yours can devise another plan."

Lenore choked in shock and stumbled as Heston led her toward the door. The sunlight glared off the snow, temporarily blinding her path. One hand shielded her eyes while Heston kept the other tucked in the crook of his arm. She turned his direction and whispered in anger, "Are you crazy? I never agreed to this."

For one quick moment, disappointment shadowed his face before he covered it with a smile. "Then I suggest you concentrate on your family. That's why I got the preacher so early in the morning. The quicker we take care of this matter, the quicker we can help them."

Lenore faced forward and noticed a small crowd had gathered. Where they'd come from was unbeknownst to her. Some sported genuine smiles while others looked on with disapproval.

Lightheadedness blurred her vision and weakened her knees. Could she go through with this? Were there no other options? Heston pulled her closer to his side and encouraged her to lean on him. Lenore momentarily gave up her battle for rational thought and enjoyed the sensations that rippled through her.

Moments later, Lenore stood in disbelief as she heard the words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The rosy-cheeked preacher slapped his Bible closed with a hearty grin.

Lenore stiffened across from her new husband. Husband? Her knees weakened again. But she didn't chance falling. Heston's arm came around her and pulled her toward him for their first kiss. She had never experienced this type of affection. Of course she'd often wondered what it would be like, but under far different circumstances.

Fear encased her as his lips neared her own.

And then there was peace. Like a storm that suddenly passed, Heston's assured calm spread to her limbs and gave her strength. It was just a simple touch between their lips, but she didn't want it to end. When he pulled back, her own surprise reflected in the green depths of his eyes.

Congratulations went up from the crowd as people came forward to shake their hands. It occurred to Lenore how strange it was that some of the townsfolk had braved the weather to attend this small event. But as voices carried their way in the air, perhaps it wasn't strange at all. It would seem that most of them had hoped the property would stay in the hands of Heston. Exactly what type of family was she getting with this disreputable cousin of his?

The answer came in the form of a swaggering, shaggy-haired man with an equally untidy woman and child. "Well, cous', I bet you didn't think I'd make it."

He reeked of sinful drink. Lenore shrunk behind Heston as the man tried to near her side. Heston blocked his approach by stepping into his path. "Back off, Lucas. I'm married, the place stays mine."

A hint of his quick temper revealed itself through his voice. Lenore hoped this-Lucas-would be smart enough to back off.

"Just wanting to welcome your pretty new bride to the family." His sneer sent shivers up her spine. She noticed her hand had unknowingly gripped Heston's shirt, she let it slide to her side.

Heston turned toward her and clasped her hand in his. He stared into her eyes before speaking. "For once, I couldn't agree with you more, she certainly is pretty."

Lenore felt a blush claim her cheeks despite the frigid weather. The crowd began to disperse leaving her staring at her feet. Heston pulled her toward the cabin. "Let's warm up before we start our journey. I imagine you're hungry."

Hunger was the last thing Lenore had thought of. Trepidation at the thought of being married silenced her tongue and stiffened her movements. Heston closed the door behind her and took her hands in his.

His voice softened as he spoke near her ear. "Relax. We'll let nature take its course. Right now, we need to eat and get as early a start as we can."

Lenore looked up and met eyes full of earnest compassion. Did he realize what fears she faced? His thumb rubbed across the top of her hand only to confirm her unspoken question.

Heston released her and gestured toward the table. "Why don't you get breakfast started, I've got some things to bring in."

Lenore nodded in agreement but wondered at what things he meant. How would they travel to her family? Lenore knew nothing about his man. This man whose name she now bore. Lenore Miller.

Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

Chapter Five

Lenore's disappointing thoughts over a loveless marriage were interrupted by Heston's return. He paused by the bed and deposited a large wrapped parcel. Lenore stopped her food preparations and looked his direction. He waved her over. "It's not much, but I got you a wedding gift."

"Wedding gift?" The whole idea of their marriage still seemed too surreal. She stepped closer until Heston's hand was on the small of her back, urging her forward.

"Go ahead, unwrap it." His eyes shone with a hopeful expectancy that she'd be pleased.

Lenore pulled at the string. Her curiosity grew as the string fell to the side and loosened the wrapping. Tearing it away, Lenore first saw material, then fur. Neatly folded on top, was a new shirt, then long underwear, and wool trousers. She laughed out loud and turned to face her husband.

He returned her humor with a large grin. "I know it's not what you were expecting, but I can't let my help-meet freeze."

Help-meet. She'd heard the term coined by her pastor once. He had referred to a marriage where two people equally worked together, in perfect companionship.

Heston nodded toward the package. "That's not all."

Lenore shuffled through the extra garments and found at the bottom, a new pair of fur-lined boots. A gasp escaped her as she covered her mouth with her hands. She knew their expense. For they were very similar to a pair she had boldly asked her father for before their trip but was denied.

She turned to him. "Heston . . ."

A gentle smile met hers. "So you're pleased?"

"Very much. Thank you."

His eyes darkened and he lingered in front of her as if he wanted to kiss her again. Lenore battled what she should do. Before the decision needed to be made, he backed away.

Heston moved toward the door with hesitant steps. Did he want to stay inside with her? "I'll ready the pack mule and the horses."

"You have horses?" Pleasure over not having to walk filled her voice.

He nodded, his eyes still settled on her with serious contemplation. "It now seems I have everything I need."

Lenore shifted her gaze to the floor. A man's attention was something new to her and she didn't know how to receive it. She didn't want to appear ungrateful, but how did she deal with the embarrassment it caused. Was it embarrassment, or excitement? She couldn’t determine which and busied herself with breakfast as an excuse not to give more time to her thoughts.

***

Heston smiled to himself for his recent blessings. He'd prayed for a wife most of his life. And though his marriage to Lenore had been spur of the moment, he didn't feel he'd settled for second best. No, he was sure Lenore would prove to be the exact woman his prayers had centered on.

She rode next to him with barely contained excitement. Her thrill over the fur-lined boots he'd purchased, still hadn't worn off. He watched as she pointed her toes away from her mount to stare at them again. Each time she did, a smile would stretch across her face as bright as a sunrise.

"We're coming up on my first trap. I'll need to check each one as we pass, but I don't expect to find anything yet."

Lenore nodded, still smiling from her boots. She looked as attractive in her new men's-wear as she did in her dress. Perhaps because she represented an end to his lonely life. Heston had lived alone for so long he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed companionship. But life with Lenore would change that. He found her youthful energy almost as attractive as her physical beauty and looked forward to learning more about her.

"So tell me about this town you were headed to."

Lenore stopped smiling and shrugged her shoulders. "My father was promised a good job, my step-mother has family there, and my brother will have a better school."

Her words sounded as if she were reciting a paper for school. "What did you have to look forward to?"

She gave him a mock look of pleasure, "Meeting a cousin that wouldn't write back."

"Sounds exciting."

A half giggle escaped her. His gifts had broken a barrier between them. They were now blessed with a comfort zone that would normally only come from time spent courting. "There was also talk of marriage." She tipped her head shyly and looked at him.

Heat rushed to Heston's face. "Marriage?" He raised his voice. "I thought you said you weren't spoken for?"

Had he stolen someone else's betrothed? A dishonest betrothed, at that?

"I'm not. Or, I wasn't." She matched her tone to his. "What I meant was my step-mother mentioned there would be possible suitors."

She tossed her head as if to shake off a fly. "Oh bother, you do have a temper, don't you?"

Heston tipped back his head and laughed. She certainly would be good for him. He knew he had a temper, but she'd be able to hold her own and rein him in when needed. The momentary tension fell away and they soon resumed a comfortable air.

"My first trap is around this bend. I'll dismount and leave you in care of my horse, while I check it out."

He watched Lenore nod in agreement. If she was nervous at the prospect of him shooting an animal, it didn't show. His chest swelled with pride. Thank you, Lord.

A few hours passed and again Lenore waited as Heston peered around the tree to note the condition of his last trap. Just as he had expected, empty as the others, perhaps on their return they would boast of bounty.

He turned to follow his steps back to Lenore. When she came into sight, he paused and stared at her in awe. A shaft of sunlight broke through the trees and bathed her in a golden hue. Her soft skin took on the radiance of a happy new bride, excited about her future.

But she wasn't, was she? The thought hit him hard in the chest. Heston had forced her into a marriage she wasn't prepared for. In a few short hours, she would be saying good-bye to the most secure part of her being–her family. What would she think of him then?

Lenore caught sight of him on the path and held a finger to her lips. He followed her gaze and saw she'd been watching a herd of deer. They stretched their necks toward boughs of trees, desperate to satisfy their winter hunger.

Heston didn't want to ruin the moment for her, but her family could probably use the venison. Unable to gain her attention, he readied his shotgun. As he pulled a bead on a fattened doe, Lenore kicked her heels into her mount and scared the deer away.

A gasp sounded from her lips. "What were you doing?"

Her patronizing tone grated against him. "Most likely, your family could've used the venison."

"You were going to shoot them without warning me?"

Heston ran a hand over his face. Had he really wanted this? "I'm not going to explain myself to a silly woman. We need to make tracks if we're going to get to the pass before night-fall."

He caught the fall of her face and tried to convince himself he didn't care. He didn't owe her an explanation and to start now would only train her to be a nagging wife. He was the head of their house-hold, and she didn't need to question him.

But regret still soured his stomach.

Chapter Six

Lenore shifted in the saddle to put as much of her back to Heston as possible. Silly woman- ha! He hadn't thought she was silly when he pulled her outside in front of the preacher. The nerve of the man.

She pictured his arrogant red head, purposefully refusing to acknowledge his eyes. Father had always told her to steer clear of red-heads. Ruled by their tempers, they'd never be able to offer her the life he felt she deserved. He about to be disappointed.

They broke through the last stand of trees as the sun was setting and her family's wagon came into view. Lenore let out a whoop and kicked her heels into her mount. Heston's growl toward her actions was thrown aside as her little brother came into view.

Lenore pulled her horse to a halt and jumped down. Henry was in her arms in seconds. Holding him had never felt so good.

"Let me look at you." Lenore knelt to the ground and took in his every feature. "It seems like a life-time since I left."

"Ah, Sis," the six-year old pushed her hands away from his face with embarrassment. "You've only been gone a couple days.

Lenore nodded her head solemnly. "Yes, well a couple of days can cause a lot of change."

She glanced behind her and noted Heston. He'd stopped a distance away to give her this time with her family. Did he expect her to explain him to her parents? If so, he'd soon learn, she could act like a red-head, too. This whole marriage was his idea. He could be the one to tell her father.

With the thought of her father he appeared, limping the same as when she'd left for help.

"Lenore!" He encased her in his burly arms. "You made it back, and with help."

Lenore followed the gesture of his hand to Heston who began walking toward them. "Father, this is Heston Miller."

If her father felt ill toward the man because of his hair color, it didn't show. He shook Heston's hand with a good-hearted nature. "I'm, Castle, and I thank you for your assistance. I was so worried I'd made a mistake allowing Lenore to leave."

Heston's eyes trailed to Lenore as a knowing smile followed. "You made no mistake, rest assured."

Her father cleared his throat, seeming uncertain of Heston's meaning. His gaze took in Lenore's clothing as worry filled his eyes. Lenore broke the awkward air and asked about her step-mother. "Where's Zoey, Father?"

"She might still be napping. This cold has threatened her health. I've encouraged her to get more rest."

Lenore took note of the concern in his voice. He lost his first wife in a similar way. She couldn't bear to think of him having to face that again.

Heston stepped back and opened a pouch on the pack-mule. "I have something that might help."

Lenore widened her eyes in surprise. He was offering to help her step-mother? Shame over her surprise quickly followed. Of course he wanted to help. He wasn't a bad man, just . . . just what, exactly? He had wanted to shoot the deer, not for his own use, but for her family. He hadn't expected her to fulfill any wifely duties, he'd packed their things and set out to, again, help her family. Then what was it that aggravated her so much about this man?

Clueless, Lenore accepted her brother's hand and followed the men to the wagon. They waited outside while her father woke his wife. Heston started a fire and began to melt snow to mix with the tonic. Lenore stepped toward him. "Can I help?"

Heston didn't look up. "You're speaking to me again?"

Lenore's face heated with more shame. She had ignored him the last hours of their trip. God forgive my immaturity.

"I admit I acted silly, and I'm sorry."

Heston brought his head up in surprise. "You're apologizing?"

Lenore couldn't swallow the giggle that escaped. "Yes." She smiled. "Isn't that what one does when they realize they're wrong?"

She stared at his riveting green eyes as he rose to stand beside her. Would their intoxicating draw always make it this hard to stay mad at him?

She watched his eyes swirl with the thoughts he now juggled. Had he never learned to apologize? What was he thinking? Would it be impossible to hope he wanted to take back his rude retorts as well?

The flap of the wagon pulled back as her father helped Zoey step down. Whatever Heston had been tempted to share, the moment of truth was now over. She started toward her step-mother at the same time Heston reached for her hand. The feel of his rough fingers as they slid across her skin sent sparks traveling up her arm. Lenore stopped and looked over her shoulder. The side of his mouth pulled at the corner, giving him a sly look. His darkened gaze attested he felt it too.

Lenore's stomach tightened. If her guess was right, nature had set its course.

Chapter Seven

Heston watched as Lenore embraced her fragile step-mother. The Lord had been looking over more than just he and Lenore. It seemed as if his tonic had arrived just in time. He concentrated his efforts back to the melting snow.

Castle left the women arguing over Zoey being outside and strode to Heston's side. "Son, there's no need to melt snow, I have plenty of water."

Son – Had Lenore already informed her father? Heston stole a quick glance in her direction. She caught his gaze and shook her head. Heston cleared his throat and turned back to Castle. "The water needs to boil for the tonic. Then she'll have to drink it before it cools too much."

"I reckon you arrived just in time." Castle looked him square in the eye.

Heston nodded. "Yes, sir."

Castle continued to eye him. "How'd Lenore find you?"

He knew it was coming, he'd just hope to be offered something warm to eat before anyone's anger forced him and Lenore to leave. And he would leave with her–not without.

"Actually, Sir, I found her."

Before Castle's raised eyebrows could be followed by his next question, Lenore called for his assistance.

"Father, will you help Zoey back inside, she's too weak to climb the steps."

"I'm coming." He started away then called over his shoulder to Heston. "Come on in when you have that finished. And plan on bunking with us for the night."

Castle hurried to Zoey's side. Heston figured if it weren't for his bad hip, Castle would have picked her up and carried her. Together, they entered the wagon with Lenore and her brother following behind.

Heston finished the tonic and stopped outside the wagon. "Castle, the tonic's ready."

The canvas flap opened and Castle waved him inside. "Go ahead and get her started."

Heston stepped around the crowded interior and knelt beside Zoey. "This is a trusted Indian remedy. But I warn you, it doesn't taste good."

***

The night wore on as Heston lay awake listening to Zoey's labored breathing return to normal. The tonic had worked.

He rolled over on the thin mat, realizing there wasn't a comfort to find. His thoughts flew to Lenore, where they often were. Was she also still awake? Castle had positioned his daughter as far away from the newcomer as he could. Little did her father know that in another day they'd be sharing the same bed.

He finally succumbed to sleep but only until the first ray of sunlight hit the snow. He shivered from the morning air as it crept in under the canvas then crawled out to search his pack for coffee and dried venison. The fire started easily in the pit with the help of the pine knot kindling he always packed. Lenore emerged from the wagon, radiant as ever. Her smile revealed her pleasure at finding him awake. She made her way to his side and held her hands toward the flame.

"Did you sleep well?"

Heston sighed, he never was one for small talk. "Does it matter?"

A sharp turn of Lenore's head revealed her disapproval. "Do you always wake up nasty or is it too much to hope it's from sleeping in a wagon?"

He crooked a grin and offered her a sip of coffee.

"Thank you. And thank you for helping Zoey. Her breathing improved so much throughout the night."

Heston reached for his cup, trapping her hand beneath his. "So you didn’t sleep much either. Care to tell me why?"

Lenore blinked several times but didn't speak. The desire to kiss her pouty lips grew until he knew he had to distance himself. He couldn't start that type of intimacy . . . not yet.

"I'm going hunting." He strode toward his horse, intent on retrieving his gun.

"I'll go too."

Heston stopped and turned around. "I plan on shooting something, Lenore. Like a pretty, little deer."

She threw her fist on her hip. "Don't patronize me. It's not the shooting of the deer that upset me." She stalked off toward the fire.

Heston sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He should have been relieved he could hunt on his own, but he wasn’t. That had been part of the appeal to having Lenore as his wife. She could hunt with him. By his side. As his help-meet.

He gave in to the urge to follow her. "What bothered you then?"

Lenore gave a start at his presence but kept her back to him. "Leave me alone."

He softened his voice and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm your husband, Lenore. You're my wife. I don't want to repeat whatever it is I've done wrong. Help me understand."

Lenore turned, but kept her eyes cast down. "You gave no thought to my feelings. And before you call me a silly woman, you need to understand there is a difference between a man and a woman."

"You were enjoying the scene, and I should have been more thoughtful."

Her eyes widened as she looked up. "Yes. That's right."

Heston nodded his understanding. He'd been wrong to not consider her feelings. She wasn't at all silly. She was beautiful and smart and appreciated God's creation. "I'm sorry. Will you still hunt with me?"

Chapter Eight

Lenore followed Heston through the deep snow. Once she stumbled and would have fallen but caught herself against his firm back. Her entire body tingled from the contact. Her hand was now encased in his, at Heston's request.

He stole a look in her direction. She pretended not to notice. Holding hands caused enough emotion to deal with. If he tried to kiss her . . . she paled at the thought.

"Are you feeling okay? You're not having second thoughts are you?"

Lenore met his concerned gaze. His eyes said more than words could have. "No, not about hunting . . . and not about you."

Relief flooded his eyes. Her heart warmed that he cared what she thought of him. She smiled and felt his thumb rake against the top of her hand. Before worry had time to build, his lips were covering hers in a soft embrace. Lenore felt herself give back equally as much. Kissing wasn't something to be feared, it captured a beauty that up until now, she had never known.

An hour later, Lenore carried Heston's shotgun over her shoulder and followed behind as he drug the small doe to the wagon. They didn't have to go far to find a herd. Castle strode toward them from the fire pit. His face wore a mask of worry and wonderment.

"Heston. Lenore." He scratched his head. "I had wondered where you two had gone."

Lenore gave her father a kiss on the cheek, making sure to rub her cold nose against him. "Heston helped me shoot it, Father!"

Her father rubbed the chill she'd left on his skin and looked at her with wide eyes. "Really?" His voice took on a more serious tone as he turned to face Heston. "Why don't you help me with this wheel, then you can be on your way."

"Father, that's no way to be after Heston brought you this meat."

"We have enough, Lenore, and it's time we got back on the trail."

Lenore met Heston's gaze, and though she spoke to her father, she kept her eyes on her husband. He would steady her through what had to be said.

"Father, I won't be going with you."

Castle stepped in front of her, blocking Heston from view. "Don't talk foolishness, Lenore. Unless something forbidden has happened, I suggest you not say another word and climb into that wagon."

Lenore searched for the right words. She didn't want to hurt her father, she loved him too much. But something else was stirring her heart, and it wasn't her father. God grant me wisdom.

"Castle, Lenore's now my wife. We married before setting out to help you."

All color drained from Castle's face. "No," he whispered, "no, Lenore wouldn't do that."

His eyes hardened as he looked from his daughter to the man he now held with contempt. "Unless she was coerced."

"Father–"

"Get in the wagon, Lenore." He held a stern gaze on Heston. "The men need to talk."

Lenore dropped her head and nodded in compliance. She stepped around her father and paused at Heston's side. Her eyes trailed from his face up to his unruly crop of red hair, bringing a smile to her lips.

She placed a hand on his arm and whispered, "Remember, whoever guards his mouth and tongue, keeps his soul from trouble."

Heston covered her hand with his and gave a quick squeeze. The small gesture steeled her against her father's disapproval and lent hope to her heart.

Grateful to warm herself inside the wagon, Lenore didn't mind the order to go inside. Holding her hands toward the pot-bellied stove, she feigned ignorance at her step-mother's questioning stare and relished the heat as it brought feeling back to her fingers.

Her brother asked through a mouthful of cornbread, "Where were you this morning, Sis?"

"I shot my first deer with Heston." She tried not to let pride seep through her voice, but the excitement she experienced over her accomplishment still hadn't calmed.

Raised voices from the men, reached through the canvas. Lord, please help Heston remember the verse I quoted. Help him control his temper. And please comfort my father. She knew her family would have a hard time accepting her marriage, though she no longer did. Life had just taken on a new purpose.

"Lenore," Zoey's voice broke through Lenore's thoughts, just as she began to picture what daily life with Heston would entail. "Why don't you share with me what all the fuss is over between the men?"

She swallowed and ran her tongue over dry lips. Her step-mother's voice was much stronger than yesterday. Although Lenore was thankful for Zoey's improved health, her tone signaled more trouble. Looking from her brother to Zoey, Lenore explained, "The sleeve of my coat got caught in an animal trap when I went for help. Heston found me and brought me to his cabin."

Lenore hadn't considered how hard it would be to actually say good-bye to her loved ones. The thought caused her eyes to pool with tears. Zoey took it for something else and clamored to her side.

"Oh, you poor, dear. How could he?" She wrapped her arms around Lenore. "He seemed like such a nice man."

Lenore wiggled loose of Zoey's embrace and scrunched her brows as she looked at her. A half laugh escaped as she realized the path Zoey's thoughts had taken. "No, Zoey. Nothing bad happened. I only got teary-eyed when I realized I'd have to say good-bye."

"Why would you say good-bye? To us?"

"Yes, I'm married now. I married Heston before we brought you the wheels but not because anything happened like what you thought. Nothing has."

Zoey bent her head closer to keep her words from her son's young ears. "You mean the marriage hasn't been consummated?"

Lenore shook her head then watched as her step-mother rose and stepped outside.

Chapter Nine

Moments later, Zoey reentered the wagon with Castle behind her. Lenore shrunk from the determined atmosphere surrounding her father. He stood over her with hands fisted at his sides. Lenore lifted her head and watched his anger fall away like snowflakes.

She rose to explain and found herself embraced in his burly arms.

"The Lord is good, Lenore." He squeezed her tight.

A gladness rose in her like peace. Her father had accepted Heston.

Castle's voice sounded near her ear. "The marriage hasn't been consummated, you don't have to go back with him. We'll find a way around this."

Lenore's hope proved fleeting as spring. She stumbled backward. "Father, I married him on my own free will."

"He told me about his inheritance."

"But I'm now his wife–"

"Daughter," he used the term reserved for when he disagreed with her opinion or actions. "You don't know what you're talking about. You were tricked into this by a selfish individual."

Images of her first night with Heston flipped through her mind like pages of a book. Heston squatted in front of her rubbing her feet, to him losing his temper, and finally lingering on him holding the lantern so they could better see one another. It was then that something had changed. Something within her, a fluttering sensation . . . "I think we could get along okay, don't you?" Heston's confident voice called out to her.

"Lenore."

She turned toward the opening, it wasn't just her memories. Heston was calling for her even now. "I wasn't tricked, Father. Heston has been honest with me from the start."

"Then why didn't you say no? You could have gotten help from someone in that town of his." Her father's voice held the plea of a child. He wasn't ready to let her go. Time was against them all.

Lenore placed a gentle hand on his arm. "What would that extra time have cost you, Father?" Her eyes settled on Zoey.

Castle did the same. The love he and Zoey shared was evident for Lenore to see. She reached for both of their hands and joined them together. "Heston allowed God to work through him. You may not want to see it now, but in time, I think you will."

Henry came to stand by her side. Her little brother's child-like faith revealed itself through his words. "I know you have to leave, Sis. But I like Heston, and he'll bring you to visit."

"That's right. I will." Heston emerged through the canvas flap. "I realize you don't think much of me right now, Castle, but if I'm to keep your daughter safe, we'll need to get started back soon or nightfall will catch us."

The sight of Heston sent an electric warmth through Lenore's veins. Was this what Father felt toward Zoey?

***

Heston smiled at the young bride seated on a mare by his side. After only a few tears, she'd been ready to be on their way. She already amazed him. Her father, though still upset, had accepted what he couldn't undo. As Heston had helped change the wheel of the wagon, Castle even shared the marital advice he'd stored up for Lenore's future husband.

He looked from Heston's red hair to his face. "You remember the smallest man has the biggest anger. Make sure you always stand tall."

Heston nodded thoughtfully. "That's good advice, sir."

Encouraged, Castle had continued. "Ask you wife for counsel. And don't let your pride keep you from welcoming her judgment."

The advice was worthy of remembrance, and so was the example of acceptance shown by Lenore's parents. Perhaps he and Lenore would visit in the spring, but from the glowing look of his bride, she didn't seem to be in a hurry.

Heston reached out to touch her hand. Her smile squeezed his heart. Was he already in love? He considered the implication and saw no reason to fight against it. The happiness she'd brought him in only three days was worth all the love he could give.

The noon sun sparkled against the snow, making their path treacherous in places. Lenore's horse snorted and tossed her head, disgruntled as her front legs sunk in knee–deep snow. They'd been riding steady all morning. It was time for a break.

Heston steered them toward a small stand of trees. After dismounting, he tied the horses and mule then helped Lenore down from her mount. A slight gasp escaped her lips at their close encounter. Heston allowed his hands to linger on her waist longer than necessary. Lenore's eyes darkened, that was all the invitation he needed. Bending his head toward hers, he was surprised when her lips met him halfway.

Lost in a world of their own, moments passed before Lenore's horse stomped her feet and shied away. With the loss of their support, they both tumbled into the snow. Lenore's laughter bubbled forth from her like the end of a waterfall. Heston admired her rosy cheeks and just-kissed lips. "Thank you, Lenore."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "For what?"

"For marrying me."

A distant shot rang in the air. Quick to rise, Heston helped Lenore to her feet.

"Did that come from my family?" Worry filled her eyes.

"No." Heston stared through the snow-laden trees. "Someone's helping themselves to my – to our traps."

Chapter Ten

Lenore expected Heston to reach for his gun, instead he opened the pack on the mule and offered her dried venison and apples. She cocked her head to the side, "I don't understand."

"It won't do any good to get in a hurry. They're too far away and we'd only risk injury to the horses or ourselves." Heston leaned against the tree Lenore shared and took her hand in his. "Shall we pray?"

At her nod, he began, "Father, we ask You to bless this food to our bodies and guide us safely home. And for the unsaved soul who's robbing our traps, please blanket his spirit with Yours. Amen."

Lenore stood too stunned to eat. "You asked prayer for the man who's stealing from you."

"How else is he going to recognize his wrongs?"

Lenore bit into her apple and considered his statement. It would seem she could learn from Heston. She glanced back and saw the firm set of his jaw and the deepening frown on his face. And perhaps she could encourage him to control his growing anger.

Heston pushed off from the tree. "If we get started now and cut out checking the traps, we should catch him at the trail head."

Lenore said nothing. Would God protect them and keep Heston's anger under control?

***

The mule stumbled and jerked the lead rope attached to Heston's saddle horn whipping it against his leg. Heston swallowed the urge to yell at the animal. Stand tall. Castle's advice rung in his ears. He allowed his father-in-law's wisdom to control his anger. It was Heston's own fault. He'd pushed them hard.

Lenore stifled a yawn and stretched her legs away from her horse. "Are we almost there?" she whispered.

Heston nodded. He shouldn't have her out here, he should've secured Lenore at the cabin and searched for the thief another day on his own. She smiled sweetly at him, almost dreamingly. A sudden urge to be home overwhelmed him. He turned directions.

"What are you doing?" Lenore kept her reins pulled tight, refusing her mare to follow.

"I'm taking you home. I had no business bringing you into this." He refrained from listing the other benefits of going to the cabin but couldn't control the tilt of his mouth.

"Heston Miller, we've come this far, I think we should take care of business."

He smiled and pulled his mount beside hers. "Such a wise woman, I couldn't agree more. But are we talking about the same kind of business?"

A blush darkened Lenore's already rosy cheeks. Heston reached for her hand and brought her palm to his lips. Her eyes shuttered as a light sigh escaped her. He contemplated pulling her from the saddle when a horse snorted less than half a mile away.

Lenore glanced to the trail-head and back to Heston. A determined spirit set her jaw. "I'll stay here with the pack-mule."

A wise woman, indeed. Heston gave her an approving grin and pulled his shotgun from its sling. The thief didn't suspect him since they'd kept the animals' tracks away from the main trail. He rode ahead to a familiar bend and pulled a halt to his horse in the middle of the path.

Moments later, the thief rounded the curve. His horse startled at Heston's presence and reared backward, throwing its rider. The spooked stallion took off down the hill. There, in the middle of the path, sat Lucas, Heston's cousin.

"Well, well, cous', I guess you're not too smart." Heston repositioned his gun to drive fear into the man. "Though I suppose I could thank you for collecting my hides."

Lucas struggled to his feet, slipping several times in the snow. "You can't prove nothin'. All you've got me on is trespassing and the sheriff won't do nothin' about it."

"Lucas, that horse of yours is laden with furs, anyone who sees it will know what you've been up to."

"You mean this horse?" Lenore emerged through the trees on her mount, leading, not only the pack mule, but Lucas's stallion. She was careful to position herself far from his disreputable cousin.

Heston's chest swelled with pride. He didn't deserve this woman, yet, God through His mercy, had granted this gift. Heston would do all he could to always be thankful.

Movement from his left drew his attention back to Lucas. "Since you seem anxious to leave, why don't you help transfer these furs to my pack mule, then be on your way."

The man started forward and stopped. "You mean, you ain't gonna involve the sheriff?"

Heston dismounted and stepped toward him. "What do you suppose they'd do with you, if I did?"

Lucas dropped his gaze. "Hang me."

"Cousin, you start coming to church meeting with us on Sundays and we'll forget this ever happened."

Disbelief filled Lucas' eyes. "This ain't like you, Heston. Why aren't you taking your anger out on me?"

Heston trailed his eyes back to Lenore. "I'm choosing to keep my soul from trouble and stand tall."

***

As the cabin came into view, Lenore saw smoke curling from the chimney. "Oh no, someone must be in your house."

Heston smiled, "You mean–our house. There's no one there. I just padded the preacher's pocket a little extra to have him come back and stoke a fire."

Lenore's gaze softened as she stared at her husband. She followed his actions and dismounted then stepped through the door he now held open.

Heston lit a lantern to light the room. What it revealed made Lenore gasp. From the table to the floor, were gifts of every sort. Doilies, rugs, coverlets and cooking dishes. "Heston, what is all this?"

He scratched his chin sharing her puzzlement. "There's a card on the table."

Lenore reached for the delicate folded paper. "Congratulations from Silverton Congregation."

She searched Heston's face in amazement. "For these people to bless us like this there must be more to you than you've let on." She stepped closer. "And it makes sense, given how many times you've been so generous and selfless."

Heston didn't reply but she could see her words were affecting him. She touched a hand to his cheek, "And only a moment ago, I thought I couldn't possibly be more proud of you."

Tenderness encased him as he drew her close. He ran a hand through her hair and touched his forehead to hers. "Lenore, I didn't think it was possible to fall so quickly, but I already love you."

A sigh escaped her as she leaned into him. "I love you, too."