Man on a Missionâ¦
Nate Bohannan wonât let anything stand in the way of his grand plans in California. Even if it means traveling there with unreliable huckster Robert Salali. But after a destructive bender in Simpson Creek, Texas, the unscrupulous Salali runs out, leaving Nate to carry the blameâand the debt. He can fix broken furnitureâ¦but can anything fix the despair in café owner Ella Justissâs eyes?
When her café was destroyed, Ella felt sure sheâd lost her dreams along with it. Yet somehow Nateâs cheerful care and optimism fill her with hope again. Painful secrets from her childhood make Ella wary of men. When danger threatens, will Nate be the hero Ella can finally trustâand love?
Brides of Simpson Creek: Small-town Texas spinsters find love with mail-order grooms!
âI caught a fish! My very first!â Ella cried.
Nate couldnât help but grin at her excitement. âYour papa never took you fishing?â he asked.
âNo.â Nate knew by the way her lips tightened that heâd strayed onto dangerous ground.
âWell, now I have to catch up to you,â he said, keeping his tone light. âMy honor as an experienced fisherman is at stake.â
By the time they left, they had a stringerful of fish. Ella had laughed and enjoyed herself more than heâd imagined her capable of. Had no one ever shown her how to have fun?
âThanks for taking me.â She reached for the stringer. âI guess Iâll see you laterâ¦â
âTsk-tsk, Miss Ella, did you think I was going to leave you with the nasty job of cleaning the fish after I had the fun of catching them with you?â Nate told himself it was mere chivalry, and not the fact that he wanted to earn more of her brilliant smiles.
She gazed up at him. âYouâd do that for me?â she breathed, eyes wide and luminous.
âSure,â he said, feeling as if there wasnât much he couldnât do under the effect of her grateful smile.
LAURIE KINGERY
makes her home in central Ohio, where she is a âTexan in exile.â Formerly writing as Laurie Grant for the Mills & Boon Historical line and other publishers, she is the author of eighteen previous books and the 1994 winner of a Readersâ Choice Award in the Short Historical category. She has also been nominated for Best First Medieval and Career Achievement in Western Historical Romance by RT Book Reviews. When not writing her historicals, she loves to travel, read, participate on Facebook and Shoutlife and write her blog at www.lauriekingery.com.
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
âHebrews 13:2
To Tom, my own âjack of all tradesâ and master of many. Iâm so lucky to spend my life with you!
And to Ella Lorene (Hill) Schroeder, my mother, for whom my heroine is named.
Chapter One
Simpson Creek, Texas
September 1869
âCould I interest you in a sandwich, cowboy? Maybe a bowl of chili?â
Ella Justiss didnât like the look of the man who leaned on the counter, studying her instead of the menu posted behind her. He had a scraggly scruff of a beard, narrow, calculating eyes and smelled of sweat, stale whiskey and the cheroots that peeked out of his shirt pocket.
âSo hereâs where Detwiler keeps his best gal!â the drifter crowed, staring at her with red-rimmed eyes. âI knew he had to have somethinâ better than the ones heâs got out there servinâ rotgut. Whatâs your name, pretty gal?â
Pretty? Me? The drifter must have drunk a powerful lot of the saloonâs whiskey before coming to her little café in the back of the building. âWhoa, cowboy, I think you misunderstood. Iâm not one of the saloon girls. See the sign?â she said, pointing behind her. âIâm selling food, cold tea, lemonade and coffee, nothing else.â There was no one else in the café at the moment, and nothing between her and the drifter but a long, battered and scratched pecan-wood countertop with a narrow opening at one end so she could bring orders out to the tables. Sheâd have to leave its safety and go right by him to reach the saloon or out into the alley behind her café. And something in his avid gaze told her sheâd never make it past him, that he might try to force his way behind the counter. Then she could be trapped between the stove and the wall.
âAre you hungry? Would you like something to eat?â she prompted, keeping her voice natural, hoping to distract him.
His eyes went narrower still, and she knew sheâd said the wrong thing.
âOh, Iâm hungry, all right, gal. Anâ you look purdy enough to eat. Câmere.â Before she could think to back away or try to call for George Detwiler, the saloonkeeper, the stranger made a grab for her, pulling her out from behind the counter, snaking an arm around her waist and hauling her toward him.