His Mountain Miss (Smoky Mountain Matches) by Karen Kirst Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Kirst
lamplights cast a cozy glow about the room, which, with its navy-blue-and-green accents and dark walnut woodwork, gave it a masculine feel that was echoed throughout the house. He wondered if it had ever had feminine touches, or if Charles had removed all reminders of his late wife and his absent daughter.
When he’d finished, she asked, “How do you think it went tonight?”
Standing in the middle of the rug, arms crossed, he gave her his frank opinion. “I think the kids are fortunate to have someone who’s willing to give of their time and energy on their behalf.”
Her chin went up. “I enjoy it.” There was force behind the words.
On this point, he didn’t doubt her. He’d seen her nurturing touches, the easy care of the children as if they were her own. Affection like that couldn’t be faked.
“I know you do.”
Surprised relief flickered in her eyes before her lashes swished down, cutting off his view. She began to pluck at the ruffles on her skirt, her trim, shiny nails winking in the light. “I noticed many of the parents made a point to introduce themselves to you. Was everyone...welcoming?”
The hitch in her voice lured him closer. She must be thinking of the Tremains and their guileless comments. He eased down beside her on the cushion, a respectable twelve inches away, and rested his palms on his thighs. “They were indeed.”
Welcoming and genuinely glad to meet him. Effusive in their praise of Charles. He’d had trouble reconciling the man they’d described as good as gold with the cold, unfeeling grandfather he’d envisioned all these years. The discrepancy troubled him. If Charles was the man they made him out to be, why had he ignored his own family? If he regretted the rift he’d created with his pigheaded stubbornness, why hadn’t he come to New Orleans and attempted to make amends? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to travel. And his health problems hadn’t presented themselves until recent years.
He looked up to find her studying him, trying to decipher his thoughts.
“I received several supper invitations,” he continued, “as well as a request to come to church on Sunday.”
Interest bloomed in her expression. She angled towards him. “Will you come?”
“I haven’t been to church in more than a year,” he admitted. “My mother and I used to attend services together. Then she became ill, and I...” He shook his head, reluctant to think of his beloved mère and her swift decline, the bloom of health stolen from her without warning and without mercy. His wealth had garnered her access to the best medical care available, yet in the end, it hadn’t mattered. No amount of money could’ve prevented her death.
His utter helplessness had nearly destroyed him.
“I understand how it would’ve been difficult for you to go, especially since it was something the two of you did together.”
Megan’s compassion threw him off-kilter. He’d gotten precious little of it back in New Orleans. In the face of his grief, his friends and acquaintances hadn’t known what to say, so they’d avoided the subject altogether. And his father, well, he’d been relieved at his wife’s passing. Gerard was finally free of the unsophisticated mountain girl he’d made the mistake of marrying all those years ago. To him, her love and adoration had been a burden. An embarrassment.
His hands curled into fists. Shoving down the familiar anger and bitterness that thoughts of his father aroused, Lucian nodded. “I couldn’t bring myself to go alone. Besides, all those years I’d gone in order to make her happy. After her passing, there didn’t seem to be any more reason to go.”
Megan’s brow furrowed in consternation. “What about deepening your relationship with God? Learning more about His Word?”
“Relationship? With God?”
“Haven’t you ever shared with Him what’s on your heart? Your hopes, dreams, failures? He already knows, of course, but He wants us to express
When he’d finished, she asked, “How do you think it went tonight?”
Standing in the middle of the rug, arms crossed, he gave her his frank opinion. “I think the kids are fortunate to have someone who’s willing to give of their time and energy on their behalf.”
Her chin went up. “I enjoy it.” There was force behind the words.
On this point, he didn’t doubt her. He’d seen her nurturing touches, the easy care of the children as if they were her own. Affection like that couldn’t be faked.
“I know you do.”
Surprised relief flickered in her eyes before her lashes swished down, cutting off his view. She began to pluck at the ruffles on her skirt, her trim, shiny nails winking in the light. “I noticed many of the parents made a point to introduce themselves to you. Was everyone...welcoming?”
The hitch in her voice lured him closer. She must be thinking of the Tremains and their guileless comments. He eased down beside her on the cushion, a respectable twelve inches away, and rested his palms on his thighs. “They were indeed.”
Welcoming and genuinely glad to meet him. Effusive in their praise of Charles. He’d had trouble reconciling the man they’d described as good as gold with the cold, unfeeling grandfather he’d envisioned all these years. The discrepancy troubled him. If Charles was the man they made him out to be, why had he ignored his own family? If he regretted the rift he’d created with his pigheaded stubbornness, why hadn’t he come to New Orleans and attempted to make amends? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to travel. And his health problems hadn’t presented themselves until recent years.
He looked up to find her studying him, trying to decipher his thoughts.
“I received several supper invitations,” he continued, “as well as a request to come to church on Sunday.”
Interest bloomed in her expression. She angled towards him. “Will you come?”
“I haven’t been to church in more than a year,” he admitted. “My mother and I used to attend services together. Then she became ill, and I...” He shook his head, reluctant to think of his beloved mère and her swift decline, the bloom of health stolen from her without warning and without mercy. His wealth had garnered her access to the best medical care available, yet in the end, it hadn’t mattered. No amount of money could’ve prevented her death.
His utter helplessness had nearly destroyed him.
“I understand how it would’ve been difficult for you to go, especially since it was something the two of you did together.”
Megan’s compassion threw him off-kilter. He’d gotten precious little of it back in New Orleans. In the face of his grief, his friends and acquaintances hadn’t known what to say, so they’d avoided the subject altogether. And his father, well, he’d been relieved at his wife’s passing. Gerard was finally free of the unsophisticated mountain girl he’d made the mistake of marrying all those years ago. To him, her love and adoration had been a burden. An embarrassment.
His hands curled into fists. Shoving down the familiar anger and bitterness that thoughts of his father aroused, Lucian nodded. “I couldn’t bring myself to go alone. Besides, all those years I’d gone in order to make her happy. After her passing, there didn’t seem to be any more reason to go.”
Megan’s brow furrowed in consternation. “What about deepening your relationship with God? Learning more about His Word?”
“Relationship? With God?”
“Haven’t you ever shared with Him what’s on your heart? Your hopes, dreams, failures? He already knows, of course, but He wants us to express