The Parson's Christmas Gift by Kerri Mountain

Author:Kerri Mountain
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin (UK) Limited
Published: 2008-08-23T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The ride back to the ranch was long and cold. Wind howled, announcing another dose of snow. Journey latched the door behind her as she escaped into the warmth of the house. Within the comfortable walls of Miss Rose’s home, she hoped the blizzard would strike quick and hard. With any luck, Hank would be caught off guard and freeze to death in the abandoned shack.

She shook the tiny balls of snow from her coat and hair, hanging the damp coat by the door, and felt a certain sense of relief, knowing she hadn’t killed a man. She wished he weren’t here now, but she was innocent of his death, at least.

“Goodness, girl! Come by the fire and get warm. You’ll catch your death out there,” Miss Rose said. The woman came into the main room from the kitchen using her cane. Her hip must have been bothering her again.

Journey curled up on the davenport after removing her damp boots to dry by the fire. “The snow came up so fast.”

Miss Rose drew her rocker closer and pushed her chair into a gentle sway with the tip of her cane. “That’s the way winter works out here. Everything can change from sunny and warm to downright blizzardlike within a few hours.” Her voice sounded raspy, but she smiled, leaning her head against the high back of the rocker. “It makes me so glad you decided to stay with me this winter.”

“When the wind blows like that, I’m glad to be indoors.” Journey leaned toward Miss Rose. “Are you feeling all right?”

“It’s this winter air getting into my bones. I’ll be all right. How about you?”

Journey plucked a strand of thread from her dress. “What do you mean?”

“How well do you know him?”

“Who?” She jerked her head to the door, as if she’d heard something.

“I hoped you would tell me. Maybe I should ask, is he the man you thought he was?”

Journey edged forward. “No,” she said. “He’s not the man I thought he was. What did Zane tell you?”

“Nothing. He said you’d let us know if there was anything we had to worry about,” Miss Rose said. “So you don’t know that man?”

She breathed deeply and stared at the woman, who had stopped rocking to fasten her tiny round blue eyes on her. “I didn’t say that. I guess no one is really who they seem.”

Miss Rose’s expression said she didn’t agree with that statement. But instead of saying something, she closed her eyes and began to rock, her lips moving slightly. It was strange, not to mention disconcerting, the way the woman would drop suddenly into these silent prayers and pleas.

“I’ll work it out. Don’t worry about me.”

Miss Rose’s eyes snapped open and the rocker stopped. She smiled, that sweet smile that hid the strength of character beneath. “I’m not worrying. And neither can you. God’s looking out for you, dear, whether you want Him to or not. He sent you to me to help you know that.”

“You don’t know what a mess I’ve made of things.

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