From Boss to Bridegroom. Karen Kirst

and check on my wife.”

      “Oh, is she ill?” Concern pulled his brows together.

      “Not in the normal sense of the word.” A proud grin flashed. “She’s expecting our first child this fall. She tends to overdo it.”

      “Rebecca’s aware of her limitations,” Nicole pointed out. “You’re being overprotective.”

      “One day you’ll have a husband who dotes on you, Nicki. I guarantee you’ll relish every minute of it.”

      Nicole squeezed the reticule in her hands until the beading bit into her palms. Acutely aware of Quinn’s scrutiny, she tipped her chin up. “You’re speaking fairy tales, cousin.”

      “I don’t think so. Remember what I said about making plans for your life?” He winked, the scarred flesh around his eye stretching.

      How could she forget? The recent conversation plagued her in the oddest moments. Their extensive family had been gathered at his parents’ home. When she’d expressed her firm intentions to wait for marriage and children until she’d achieved success with her seamstress shop, a venture that could take years, he’d loudly announced his expectation that her plans would fall apart. In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps. The verse he’d quoted refused to leave her, raising questions she wasn’t brave enough to face.

      “Goodbye, Caleb.”

      He tipped his hat and grinned. “I’ll tell Becca you said hello.” Swinging up onto the seat, he released the brake and set the wagon in motion.

      All too soon, she and Quinn were left to stare at each other. He did a slow inspection. Confidence in sadly low amounts that morning, she’d dressed in one of her favorite outfits, a lavender dress adorned with deep purple ribbons.

      “You look to have suffered no ill effects from our confrontation,” he said.

      His features portrayed nothing of his thoughts, not appreciation or distaste. Nothing, which left her feeling unbalanced. Hefting a round of paper-wrapped cheese beneath one arm, he held out the other for her. “Shall we go inside?”

      Loath to touch him, Nicole adopted a similarly bland expression and forced her bare fingers to his forearm. The heat and strength of corded muscle bled through his shirt’s fine material. Shock shimmered through her as the totally inappropriate urge to explore his physique surged. Close contact with men was limited to her uncle and cousins, and much of the time she succeeded in keeping them at arm’s length. This touch, though impersonal, ricocheted through her defenses and opened up a yawning cavern of inconvenient awareness.

      I don’t need anyone. She’d been telling herself that since the moment she realized she was different and no matter how hard she tried, she would never measure up to her sisters.

      She focused on the narrow steps. “What exactly did you tell Caleb?”

      “You have no cause to worry, Miss O’Malley. Despite what you might think, I am a man of discretion. It would not be in either of our best interests if the details of our...misunderstanding were to be revealed. Especially in my case, considering I’m a newcomer and in need of earning the locals’ trust and respect if I am to be successful in this venture.”

      The tension she’d experienced since first spotting her cousin eased somewhat. Neither she nor Quinn planned to speak of the incident. And Shane Timmons was not what one would call a gossip. Like herself, the sheriff was a loner, a private man not given to conversation. No one would learn of the incident from him. And perhaps, given enough time, she’d manage to look her boss in the eye and not remember their initial encounter.

      “Will I be meeting any more O’Malley family members?”

      “I come from a large family, so it’s unavoidable.”

      She felt his appraising side glance. “How large?”

      “Caleb is the youngest of three. Josh is the eldest, and Nathan is the middle son. All three are married. Their parents, my uncle Sam and aunt Mary, have a farm close to town.”

      “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

      “Four sisters. Two older, two younger.” Might as well prepare him. “All possessed of beauty, grace, generosity of spirit and keen intelligence. My sisters are not only admired by the locals, they are upheld as the epitome of what a female should be.”

      At the top of the stairs, she snatched her hand free and waited for him to open the door. Hand resting on the knob, he studied her. “You excluded yourself in the description. Are you not upheld as the epitome of female desirability?”

      Nicole swallowed the familiar bitterness, aware it was unbecoming and futile. She’d stopped questioning God a long time ago. “You will come to discover that I am nothing like my sisters, Mr. Darling.”

      He opened his mouth to speak again, thought better of it and wordlessly opened the door, allowing her to enter first. Glancing into the private quarters on her left, she noticed Ruthanne had left the cheerful red-checked curtains behind, no doubt for Quinn Darling’s benefit.

      For what must be the umpteenth time since learning of their plans to move east, Nicole wished Emmett and Ruthanne could’ve remained here. While absentminded and a bit disorganized, Emmett had been a kind and understanding boss. The practical knowledge she’d gained in her employment here would benefit her in the running of her own shop. In a different town, where no one knew her or her family.

      He must’ve noticed the direction of her gaze, for he gestured to the pile of trunks shoved beneath the window. “The space is hardly large enough to accommodate one person. Not sure how the Moores were able to make it work as long as they did. Are you aware of any land parcels or homes for sale? I would like to pursue a permanent residence as soon as possible.”

      Continuing into the long, windowless office, she slipped her reticule from her wrist and stored it in the top left desk drawer. “Maybe you should hold off until you’re sure you want to stay. Gatlinburg can’t possibly compare to Boston.”

      “That’s the reason I chose it.”

      “Why Tennessee? Why this store? You aren’t related to Emmett or Ruthanne.”

      “Not family, but they are friends of my father.” Setting the cheese atop the paper-littered desk, he folded his arms and leaned forward at the waist. “Can you keep a secret, Miss O’Malley?”

      His lithe, powerful body blocked the exit, and, despite not being claustrophobic, she felt his nearness suck the air from the tight space and render her light-headed. She now knew what a cornered animal felt like.

      “I’m not a gossip, Mr. Darling.”

      “Somehow I sensed that about you.” He edged even closer, lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “The reason I came here was to avoid the authorities. You see, I—I killed a man. Shot him point-blank. It was self-defense, but I don’t have evidence to back my claim. You won’t tell anyone, will you? I hear prison food is deplorable. And I doubt the beds are comfortable.”

      “I—” Completely breathless now, Nicole pressed a trembling hand to her throat. For a couple of seconds, she actually believed him. Then she noticed the upward tug at the corner of his sculpted mouth, the muted sparkle at the back of his eyes.

      He was making fun of her, the suave, worldly-wise Northerner toying with the naive mountain girl. Well, she received enough mockery from the local thickheaded males. She wasn’t about to put up with it from Quinn Darling, boss or no boss.

      Chin up, she stepped forward. “Let me pass.”

      His brows shot to his hairline. Turning sideways, he did as she asked. She turned in the direction of the rear exit.

      “Where are you going?”

      At his curious, bordering-on-nervous tone, Nicole smiled to herself as she strode down the hallway. “To pay Sheriff Timmons a visit. I’m afraid