âWeâll get through this,â Duke said.
Oregon glanced at him. âI know we will.â
She watched him stack boxes along the back of the truck. He turned, keeping his head ducked because the truck didnât allow for his height. âYou donât sound convinced.â
âIâm trying,â she assured him.
He jumped down, landing next to her. He touched her cheek with a large, calloused hand, gently forcing her to look at him. That meant looking into blue eyes that were as clear as a summer sky. She could lose herself in his eyes, in the promises she saw in them. His mouth curved in an easy smile as he leaned a little toward her.
âYou need to start believing.â He spoke softly. âBecause I wonât let us fail as a family.â
Family. But they werenât one, she thought to tell him, but she couldnât form the words.
For a moment she was lost because sheâd honestly thought he meant to kiss her when he leaned close. And she couldnât let that happen.
BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastorâs wife, Sunday school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Mills & Boon started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.
Chapter One
Spring in Martinâs Crossing, Texas, meant one thing to Oregon Jeffries. It meant another year of working up the courage to do the right thing. As she pushed petunias into the soil of the planter outside her shop, Oregonâs All Things, she thought about taking that step to make things right.
âMom, youâre going to kill it pushing it in like that.â Her daughter, Lilly, appeared next to her, peering in at the plant.
She had a point. The petunia looked a little droopy from the handling it had received. One stem even appeared to be broken. Oregon pushed hair back from her face and patted the soil more gently.
âYouâre right. I should be more careful.â
âDo you want me to finish them later?â Lilly, at twelve, was willing to do almost anything to help. Except maybe laundry.
âNo, Iâll do them. Donât you have a job to get to?â
Lilly glanced across the street, her blue eyes focusing on Dukeâs No Bar and Grill. It was a long, low building with wood siding and a covered front deck running the length of the restaurant.
âYeah, Duke said I could sweep up and water flowers. But I know you donât like me working for him.â
âI didnât say...â Well, maybe she had said something about wishing her daughter would find other jobs. But Lilly wanted a horse, and theyâd made a deal that she had to work and earn the money to pay for the horse and the upkeep. As a single mom, Oregon couldnât handle the expense of a horse. Plus, she thought her daughter would appreciate it more if she helped pay for the animal.
The townspeople in Martinâs Crossing had pitched in and given Lilly odd jobs. Each time she got paid, Lilly put most of the money in the jar she kept hidden in her room. And she put a portion in the offering at church.
Duke Martin, owner of Dukeâs No Bar and Grill, had been giving Lilly various jobs since he learned of her quest to buy a horse. Heâd even offered to help her pick a good, well-broke horse when she had all the money saved.
âYou can go to Dukeâs. Just donât be a nuisance,â she warned.
Lilly kissed her cheek, and Oregon nearly cried. Her daughter no longer had to stand on tiptoes; instead, Lilly leaned down a bit because sheâd outgrown Oregon over the winter.
âThanks, Mom.â
Oregon nodded and went back to her flowers.