Jennivere's Journey by Jean Hart Stewart

Author:Jean Hart Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2014-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The next morning Zach knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence to Jenny. He’d come and checked her several times during the night and found her sleeping curled up in his bed, her lips smiling and her glorious hair spread on his pillow. The sight of her, so sweet and vulnerable made him ache and yearn to pounce. It would be so easy to slip into bed beside her and take her in his arms and hold her through the rest of the night. He tightened the rein on his passion. She needed her sleep more than she did one rampant male disturbing her. Even in her sleep if he brushed against her she’d know the solidity of his erection.

He’d tossed most of the night, his mind distressed with worry about Jenny and his body unable to do anything but ache for her.

He found her up and dressed when he knocked softly and then entered. He must have dozed off in the early morning, although he would have sworn he’d been awake most of the night.

‘You look fresh and rested, Jenny.” He took both her hands and raised them to his lips. “I don’t have to ask how you slept.”

She laughed but let her hands rest in his for a long moment.

“Zach, you mustn’t worry so. You should know by now I have unusually good recuperative powers.”

“If that’s what you choose to call it, love.”

As he smiled down at her he suddenly felt as though the future could be his. She never flinched from his kisses now and she accepted his mild endearments. He longed to woo her with all the language of his ardent heart but his time would surely come.

Smithers joined them in the hall and they all walked to breakfast together. And there they met with a huge surprise. Flowers covered the table the innkeeper led them to and he and the waiters were beaming. A very large vase held another bouquet, besides all the loose blooms scattered over the tablecloth.

When Jenny halted, her face showing her astonishment, the innkeeper took her hand and kissed it with reverence.

“His mother saw the lad’s twisted limb and watched it straighten. We know you are an angel, madame. The flowers are from the townspeople, in token of their appreciation both of your skill and your bravery.”

He spoke slowly so Jenny could follow his regional French and she flushed to the roots of her lovely blonde hair. Zach watched her with just a little amusement. It was not in her to fudge or deny her talents.

Finally she voiced a simple merci and allowed the innkeeper to seat her.

Surely no rolls had ever been better and accompanied by so many helpings of pure country butter and homemade jam. A pitcher of freshly squeezed orange was replenished as soon as anyone drank a glass. The coffee was even more superb than usual. Zach thought the previous morning’s breakfast exceptional but this perfection had to be a tribute to Jenny.

Smithers looked so

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