Rescuing the Blacksmith by Jo Grafford

Rescuing the Blacksmith by Jo Grafford

Author:Jo Grafford [Grafford, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JG PRESS
Published: 2020-12-04T06:00:00+00:00


The day of the party dawned clear but frigid. Thanks to Smirnov’s plotting and planning, as well as Aunt Clarabelle’s loosened strings on her pocketbook, Laura had a new gown completed in time for the occasion. Since she’d worn black for so long, the idea of returning to insipid pastels held no appeal. She’d compromised by choosing a silk and wool blend in a fetching shade of lilac.

On a last-minute inspiration, she opted to leave her hair down. The glossy dark tresses hung nearly to her waist, not that little Tim was old enough to appreciate the extra effort she made with her appearance.

As she’d promised, she treated the children with a bonus gift-giving session right after breakfast. They were overjoyed by the new mittens she’d wrapped for each of them, along with the peppermint sticks she’d tied to the packages. Regardless of the fact that she’d enjoyed her own private little celebration with them, it wasn’t easy sequestering herself in the nursery later that evening. She could hear the music, laughter, and merriment straight through the floorboards for hours.

Bitterness wafted across her tongue. “Oh, Timmy,” she moaned quietly against his dimpled cheek.

It was nearly Christmas, and it was supposed to be the most joyful time of the year. But here she was in a brand new dress with no one but an infant to show it off to. Self-pity washed over her. If only she could last another few minutes or so, the party would finally be over. Then the visiting revelers would go home, and she could enjoy a peaceful final hour of nursery duty.

She moved with Tim to the window, peering through the shadows to try to gauge how many wagons were gathered to drive the guests home. However, it was difficult to see much in the moonlight.

Tim babbled something incoherent yet happy-sounding and fisted his hands in her hair.

Ow! “Oh, you adorable thing,” she chided, spinning away from the window to gently pry his fingers loose. She paused beside the pair of rockers in the room, debating how soon she wanted to ready him for bed.

He bobbled his head against her chin, giving her a damp baby kiss.

How utterly sweet, sweet, sweet! Her heart melted. “And now my world is right again.” Swallowing the last traces of bitterness on her tongue, she swooped in to plant a dozen tiny kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and nose.

His laughter bubbled around her as she found a particularly ticklish spot on his belly.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding from me.”

The rich rumble of Wyatt James’ baritone made Laura’s lips still against Timmy’s plump middle. She slowly raised her head.

Mr. James was lounged against the open doorway in his red St. Nicholas suit. His green gaze was narrowed on her in intense speculation. And undeniable male admiration.

“You look wonderful. I imagine the children loved your costume.”

“They did. I reckon that means I’ll have to forgive you for talking me into wearing this ridiculous contraption.” He snatched off his red cap with a grimace.



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