A Home Of Her Own
A Blossoming LoveBecky Martin knows that she can't stay at James O'Brien's apple farm forever, but she wishes she could. After her brother framed her for arson, she flees Chicago, travelling cross country to California and finding work caring for James's ailing mother. Beneath the apple blossoms, it's almost like she has a real family…but her secret won't stay buried forever.James, scarred from an explosion, didn't expect to connect to the pretty young traveler. Could she really love someone damaged like him? He knows she's hiding something. If only she'd trust him. Can she let go of her past and believe in the possibility of a future amidst the apple trees?
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A Blossoming Love
Becky Martin knows that she canât stay at James OâBrienâs apple farm forever, but she wishes she could. After her brother framed her for arson, she flees Chicago, traveling cross-country to California and finding work caring for Jamesâs ailing mother. Beneath the apple blossoms, itâs almost as if she has a real family...but her secret wonât stay buried forever.
James, scarred from an explosion, didnât expect to connect to the pretty young traveler. Could she really love someone damaged like him? He knows sheâs hiding something. If only sheâd trust him. Can she let go of her past and believe in the possibility of a future amid the apple trees?
âAre you going to show me how you prepare the new trees, or are you going to stand there staring at me?â
âI wasnât stââ Yes, he probably had been. He couldnât take his eyes off her lately. âFine. I was. Youâve got some flour on your face.â He brushed her cheek to remove the powdery white streak, and she shuddered.
An aching hollowness filled his chest. After all this time, Becky was still repulsed by his touch. No matter what he did, he couldnât seem to break through her defenses. Well, sheâd just have to endure being close to him, because it was nearly impossible to teach someone how to graft without making contact. Sheâd need help making the cuts and fitting the two pieces of wood together correctly.
She picked up a grafted whip and studied it, her back to him. âSo is this what a baby tree looks like when you finish?â
Her reluctance to look at him was understandable, but the catch in her voice was puzzling.
Award-winning author KELI GWYN, a native Californian, transports readers to the early days of the Golden State. She and her husband live in the heart of Californiaâs Gold Country. Her favorite places to visit are her fictional worlds, historical museums and other Gold Rushâera towns. Keli loves hearing from readers and invites you to visit her Victorian-style cyberhome at keligwyn.com, where youâll find her contact information.
Therefore if any man be in Christ,
he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.
â2 Corinthians 5:17
In memory of my beloved mother-in-law,
Mary Lu Gwyn, a victim of breast cancer. Her faith inspired me. Her strength amazed me. Her love blessed me beyond measure.
Contents
April 1871
Becky Martin had escaped one bad situation only to find herself in the middle of another.
With her heart as heavy as a blacksmithâs anvil, she trudged along the planked walkway after her newfound friends in search of a café where they could eat their midday meal. The rough makeshift handle of her faded carpetbag cut into her palm, the stinging sensation reminding her of the many tongue lashings her brother had given her when she hadnât done his bidding fast enough. Then heâd gone too far. Sheâd stood her ground, and the drunken lout had raised his hand to strike her.
No. She wouldnât dwell on the ugly scene that had sent her fleeing to California. She must keep her mind on the task ahead. Despite her present state, she had no choice but to convince James OâBrien she was capable of caring for his mother.
You helped me get away from Dillon, Lord, so I trust You to help me muster my courage once again.
âDonât be dragging your feet, Becky. Thereâs not much time left before youâre to meet Mr. OâBrien, and you canât do so on an empty stomach.â
Leave it to matter-of-fact Jessie to state the obvious. âIâm coming.â
âOf course you are.â Cheerful Callie looked over her shoulder and offered an encouraging smile. âEven so, I canât help but notice that youâve grown pensive.â
Becky struggled to remember what the word pensive meant, but the definition eluded her, no doubt due to the bone-deep weariness following their weekâs travel. Perhaps if she said nothing, Callie would continue, giving a clue to the meaning.
Both Callie Hunt and Jessie Sinclair had no trouble talking. That must be nice. As far back as Becky could remember, sheâd been more reserved than her new friends. Being quiet gave her time to form the most articulate response possible before speaking.
This time she had no choice. She would have to say something to Mr. OâBrien, even if her words werenât polished. If not, her silence could cost her the job.
She needed work desperately. After paying for her meals during their travels, her reticule held a grand total of fifty cents, just enough for a simple dinner. Her dreams of standing on her own two feet would have to wait until she got them back under herâand figured out what an uneducated woman like her could do. Surely the Lord would guide her, as He always had.
