Groom by Arrangement. Rhonda Gibson

Miles Thatcher, she would never have met Jackson Hart. Was God at work here?

      Chapter Three

      Jackson finished hitching up the wagon and took a deep breath. He’d agreed to take Eliza Kelly to Cottonwood Springs for two reasons: one, he needed the money and two, the marshal had said the blacksmith there was leaving town and required a journeyman to run his business.

      Seth had told him that Eliza’s husband was dead and that he’d been watching out for her ever since they’d met. Why he’d promise to protect Eliza on the trip home and to watch out for her until Seth Billings’s return to Cottonwood Springs was another matter. One Jackson didn’t want to study too hard.

      He pulled the wagon in front of the house and waited beside the horses as Mrs. Hattie handed Eliza a picnic basket. Jackson listened as they said their goodbyes and hugged. He saw Seth push away from the side of the house and wondered again why the marshal had taken such a liking to him.

      “Now try to rest on the trip home. And keep your hat on since that sun can be brutal,” Mrs. Hattie said as she patted Eliza’s back.

      “I will. Thanks for everything.”

      Jackson took the basket from her and set it behind the seat. Seth handed him Eliza’s bag, and he put it beside the basket. Then he turned to help Eliza up.

      Seth beat him to her, and Jackson watched as the marshal assisted the petite woman up onto the wagon. He dropped his hands from her tiny waist and said, “Tell Rebecca I’ll be home as soon as this trial is over.”

      “I will, Seth,” Eliza promised. She smoothed down her pretty brown dress and straightened her back.

      Today she wore a floppy straw hat with an orange-and-yellow scarf tied in a bow that wrapped around the crown. Jackson smiled as he realized that oversize hats seemed to be an obsession for Eliza Kelly.

      “Ready?” he asked as he swung into the wagon and took the reins.

      Eliza nodded and waved to her friends.

      Jackson turned the team to head out of town. He wondered if she realized her emotions flickered across her face much like a hummingbird flutters from flower to flower. The thought startled him. He flicked the reins across the horses’ backs. The sooner he got Eliza Kelly home, the better he’d feel.

      She grabbed his arm. “Wait! We have to go by Sally’s Dress Shop. I have cloth, ribbons and other sewing things to pick up.”

      The warmth of her fingers seeped into the sleeve of his shirt. Jackson eased back on the reins and pulled the animals to a stop. He nodded and turned the horses around.

      “Sally’s is over one street and up one block,” Eliza instructed in a soft voice.

      Jackson enjoyed the soft singsong way she spoke this morning. The day before she’d sounded breathless and overexcited. He found himself grinning as he guided the horses to Sally’s. Maybe getting to know Eliza Kelly wouldn’t be so bad.

      * * *

      Earlier she’d noticed that Jackson had worn a dark brown coat, but he’d taken it off while loading the wagon. Her gaze moved to his shirtsleeves, which were rolled up to the elbows. Eliza had admired the muscles that worked in his arms as he loaded her supplies into the wagon.

      She smiled her thanks as Jackson finished arranging the last of her purchases in the wagon bed and climbed aboard the wagon ready to go. The air smelled of the light rain they’d received earlier in the morning. She prayed they wouldn’t get caught in another spring rainstorm. The water could ruin several of her fabrics.

      Once they were out of town, Eliza turned to him with what she hoped was an encouraging smile in place. “Seth tells me you are a journeyman. Have you been one long?” She picked up her sewing project, a small cloth doll, and began stitching on its little dress.

      He gently slapped the reins over the horses’ backs. “A few years now.”

      “Uh-huh.” Eliza admired the tall trees they passed under. Jackson Hart didn’t seem as if he was in a talkative mood. But she wanted to know more about him. She asked, “How does one become a journeyman? Didn’t you say you were a blacksmith? Is a blacksmith the same as a journeyman?” She pulled the little dress over the rag doll’s head and tied the string around its neck.

      “Journeymen travel from place to place helping other blacksmiths. So, yes, they are blacksmiths. And most blacksmiths start out as apprentices.”

      Eliza placed the doll back on the bench. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything else, she looked at him. Large muscles bulged in his arms as he held the reins. “So, you’ve been traveling around? Were you very young when you became an apprentice?” she asked.

      “I was ten.” He kept his gaze trained straight ahead.

      “I see.” She wanted to ask more questions. Like how long had he apprenticed. And had he ever trained anyone else to be a blacksmith? But from the set of his jaw, Eliza decided she might be annoying him.

      Since he wasn’t in a talkative mood and was looking straight ahead, she took the opportunity to study him. He was a big man with wide shoulders. As she thought about it, Eliza realized that Jackson Hart was probably the biggest man she’d ever met. The blacksmith in Cottonwood Springs, Dan Tucker, wasn’t as big as Jackson. He had muscles but not like Jackson.

      Jackson had sandy-brown hair, cobalt-blue eyes and a cleft in his chin that she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away from. His face seemed chiseled and strong. She decided she liked that in a man. Her eyes traveled up to his, and she found him staring back at her.

      Eliza ignored the heated sensation that took over her face and said, “I was just thinking. If you are going to live in Cottonwood Springs, I should tell you a little about the people who live there.”

      When he didn’t answer or say he wasn’t planning on living in Cottonwood Springs, Eliza took that as her cue that he was interested. She talked nonstop for the next few hours. Oh, she didn’t gossip about the townspeople; she simply told him that Mr. and Mrs. Miller owned one general store and Mrs. Walker and her husband owned another. Mrs. Velarde owned the diner; Mr. Browning ran the livery. And the list of businesses continued.

      She told him that Dr. Clark had been the town doctor ever since she’d moved to Cottonwood Springs over five years ago. Then she’d continued by telling him about the circuit preacher, Reverend Griffin, who came through town once or twice a month unless the weather was bad. If the reverend wasn’t in town, then the local men took turns leading service.

      Jackson nodded in all the right places. She decided he must have been interested in what she was saying. As soon as she finished with who lived in town, Eliza filled him in on who owned the local farms and ranches.

      After a while, Eliza noted that rain seemed to be falling in the distance. Once more she worried about her fabrics and sent a swift prayer heavenward to keep the rain at bay at least until they got home.

      Eliza picked up the doll. Jackson’s gaze fluttered to the toy, and she thought his eyes had been curious. Without him asking, Eliza began to tell him about the doll and the Parker family. “Little Bessie Parker is having her fourth birthday next week. Her pa died last spring and her ma has been having a hard time of it so I’m giving her ma, Georgia, this doll to give to Bessie.” She smoothed out the little dolls dress and then sat it back on the bench beside her. “I think she’ll like it.”

      He grinned at her. “I believe you are right.”

      Something in the grin tickled her tummy. In just a short amount of time she’d gotten used to looking into his stormy-blue eyes. She shook her head at such foolish thoughts. Eliza looked up into the sky, pretending his smile hadn’t affected her in any way.

      Two colorful arches filled the heavens. “Look! Mr. Hart! A double rainbow.” She turned from the spectacular view and looked over at him. “You know what it means?” Eliza didn’t give him time to answer.