Growing Love (New Love Western Romance Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Growing Love

  A New Love Western Romance

  Emily Woods

  Fairfield Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 Emily Woods

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Thank You

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  Chapter 1

  Utah in the summer was a beautiful sight to behold.

  The sun shone every day on the plains, the winds causing the tall grasses to dance and sway to the rhythm of some long-forgotten melody orchestrated by the Creator Himself. The water was as clear as glass, and the sky was more blue than James Connor could ever remember seeing it.

  James was a doctor and a good one at that. Recently transplanted from New York, he accepted a job as the physician of Bear Springs, Utah from a tiny advertisement in the newspaper. After struggling to adjust, not to mention the nagging of his sister, he finally felt as if he had found a place to call home.

  It was late July, and the days were long and lazy. Everyone found ways to stay cool outdoors, and James was pleased to see that everyone was staying healthy and safe as they went about their business. His job had been rather uneventful since moving to Utah, for which he was eternally grateful. The worst injury he had to deal with was an unfortunate accident with one of the young boys in town after he had fallen out of the tree and broken his arm.

  His life in New York had been very different, very fast paced. Everyone was late for something, and he was often at his clinic late into the evening catching up on paperwork and filing away information about patients. While he loved taking care of people, he was not upset that his patient list had gone from hundreds to twenty or thirty. He knew each of them by name, and he was already familiar with most of their family medical history.

  Each and every day, he knew God had lead him to this little town for a reason, that he had learned medicine and how to help others so he could be here. He never doubted it for a second.

  It was one of those uneventful afternoons where people were enjoying the weather, spending time together, and sharing a laugh or two.

  James was doing the very same. Stretching out on a red and white checkered table cloth, he yawned wide, only partially trying to ward off the sleepiness that had come over him.

  “I can’t help it,” he said. “That food was just so delicious I couldn’t stop eating. And now I feel as if I must nap in order to digest it all.”

  A lovely laugh came as a reply, and he did not hesitate opening his eyes to see the face of the one who had produced it.

  A beautiful woman sat beside him on the wide tablecloth. She had flowing golden hair like woven sunlight and eyes as bright as the sky above her. She wore a simple white bonnet to keep her hair out of her eyes, but it flowed behind her over her shoulders in the wind. Her pink dress was simple and pretty, light and comfortable for such a hot day.

  Her name was Marigold Langston.

  “I’m very glad you liked it,” she said. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. And the biscuits were from my mother.”

  James smiled at her as he rolled onto his side, gazing up into her face. He was certain he could stare at her for every moment of every day, and it would still never be enough.

  “I would have very much enjoyed meeting your mother,” James replied. “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

  “She certainly was,” Marigold said happily.

  It was a happy sort of afternoon. Marigold had appeared at his clinic with the picnic basket in hand, asking if he had eaten anything for lunch yet. James had not, and she promised she had the most delicious blueberry cake he would ever try. Paired with the company he was going to have, he could not refuse the offer.

  It was becoming somewhat known that he and Marigold had become fast friends. She would often check in on him, offer to run errands for him, and bring him herbs and salves whenever he was running low. Sometimes she would bring her sisters along if he needed an extra few pair of hands cleaning the place.

  On the same hand, whenever he had the time, he would wander up to the ranch and help her with the horses, allow her to teach him about basic medical care for the various animals, and then often inevitably be invited for dinner by the rest of the sisters. Their father, the mayor, was often away on business around the town, and James was sad to see he was not often there to join them for their meal.

  But so far, no one had started whispering about a relationship between the two of them. He heard more often that people were pleased she was getting out and showing James around and helping him to get adjusted.

  Not that he would have minded if they did, for it was certainly something on his mind more often than not as of late. There had only been one conversation between the two of them about how they felt, and that was before he had been trying to decide if he should go back home to New York at the request of his sister or stay there in Utah. She had made it clear she would have missed him if he left. But since then, she had not said a word about it.

  He often wondered if she was truly just a sweet girl with a great heart, wanting nothing more than a friend out of him. He had never found the moment to ask her, and everything had been going so well between them that he hated to jeopardize things until he was certain.

  “Oh, how is Penny healing up?” James asked, sitting up and pulling one of the capped bottles from inside the basket. He uncorked it, and allowed some of the fresh, cool water to wash down his throat.

  “Just fine,” Marigold replied. “You did a fine job bandaging her leg. Father seems impressed that you are learning so quickly. Says you are a natural with horses as well as humans.”

  “That’s quite the compliment,” James replied. “I am not sure how true it is, but I appreciate it all the same.”

  “Mrs. Morrison said so as well,” Marigold insisted. “Her pig with the scrape on its face from that splintered fence? She said the salve you gave her healed it in just a few days. She was worried about the infection, and she hopes you’ve made extra!”

  James grinned. “All of these things were unnoticed in New York. I always had more severe things to deal with. Serious injuries. I had one man come in who had been run over by a carriage. Rather, a group of men had to carry him in.”

  “Oh, heavens,” Marigold said, her pretty face falling.

  “He made a full recovery,” James reassured her, not wanting to ever see her frown. “Not to worry. He was most unhappy about the seven weeks of bedrest I insisted upon.”

  “Good,” she said. “My, working in medicine must be a very taxing sort of job.”

  “It certainly can be,” he admitted. “But it is just as rewarding, if not more so
. It is always worth it at the end of the day.”

  She smiled warmly at him. “This world needs more men like you.”

  He watched her face as something just over his shoulders caught her eye. He turned to see what had interested her so.

  Walking down the dirt road was another young woman dressed in a green riding dress. There was a sense of urgency in the way she walked, and James knew at once she was making her way toward them; they were the only two people around for miles.

  “That’s Rachel,” Marigold said, getting to her feet.

  “Your sister, Rachel?” James asked, also rising.

  “I wonder what the matter is …” Marigold said, and she started up the road toward her.

  James bent over and packed everything back into the basket as quickly as he could before running to catch up with her.

  He could see, even from a distance, that something was wrong. The strain on Rachel’s face was evident, and James’s stomach clenched uncomfortably.

  “What’s the matter?” he heard Marigold ask. He didn’t like the fear in her voice.

  Rachel, who was panting from the hastiness of her walk, shook her head. “Nothing is the matter, exactly … it’s just Father was looking for Mr. Connor.”

  “Is he?” James asked.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Connor,” Rachel said, inclining her head to him.

  “Nice to see you, Rachel,” he replied.

  “Did something happen?” Marigold asked.

  “It seems that Mr. Green has fallen quite ill. His wife came to the clinic for you, Mr. Connor, and became distressed when you were not there.”

  A sudden weight of guilt fell onto his shoulders. He should have known better than to stray so far out of town. Even if he could see Bear Springs in the distance, he was doing the town a disservice by not being readily available. Sickness waited for no man and catered to no one’s agenda.

  “How did Father find out?”

  “Well, she showed up at the house,” Rachel went on. “Father was actually home this afternoon. She was crying at the door. I heard her as I was just inside. Father seemed confused, wondered if perhaps you were just in the saloon or something.”

  Rachel dropped her head sheepishly. “I knew you had taken the picnic basket to see Mr. Connor, and I mentioned it to Father so he wouldn’t waste time trying to find you.”

  Marigold’s face paled. “What did he say?”

  “Well, I could see he was not pleased,” she said. “He was doing his best to constrain his frustration with Mrs. Green present. He took her inside, fixed her a cup of tea, and promised that he himself would go check on her husband.”

  The guilt grew heavier on James.

  “He asked me to follow him outside, and as soon as he closed the door, I saw how truly angry he was.”

  Marigold’s shoulders sagged as she listened.

  “He said he could not believe that his daughter would think having a meal alone with a man was acceptable. He wondered where all of your maturity and dignity had gone. He insisted that if I knew where the two of you were, that I come and find you and bring you back into town immediately.”

  She turned her large eyes, the same shade as Marigold’s, onto James.

  “So if it isn’t too much trouble, could you please come back with me into town?”

  “Of course,” James replied hastily. “Absolutely. We shouldn’t waste any more time.”

  The three of them turned at once and started back down the dirt road.

  “Surely Father can’t think so little of me,” Marigold said anxiously. “He knows Mr. Connor and I are friends. We were not that far. And it was my fault in the first place. I was the one who had suggested we enjoy a meal out of doors.”

  “It is not your fault,” James insisted. “You did nothing wrong. I should have had the sense to stay closer to town. We could have very happily enjoyed the picnic inside the clinic.”

  Rachel frowned. “But it is such a nice day, and there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to enjoy yourself once in a while, Mr. Connor.”

  James shook his head. “As a doctor, my first obligation is to those who are in need. I can never put my own desires above their needs.”

  Marigold smiled weakly. “That is very admirable.”

  “I just hope Father understands that no harm was done,” Rachel said.

  “I am hoping Mr. Green’s health is not going to be in jeopardy because of my delay,” James said. “I will need to go to the clinic, collect some supplies, and then head immediately over there.”

  James turned to look at Marigold as they hurried along, their quick steps kicking up the dirt. “I haven’t gotten you into serious trouble, have I?” he asked.

  For all the ways he hoped their relationship would go, this was the very last thing he wanted.

  “Because it has never been my intention to … I hope that you know I would never – ”

  “Of course, Mr. Connor. And my Father, stubborn as he is, knows that as well. He just …” Marigold trailed off. “He is just very protective.”

  “So I have heard,” James said.

  “Come on, we should hurry,” Rachel said, quickening her pace. “We really should not keep Father waiting.”

  With a sinking feeling, James followed close behind, wondering what was waiting for him when he found Mayor Langston.

  Chapter 2

  James had never been so apprehensive to walk into the town of Bear Springs. Not even the first time he arrived did he experience such a depth of anxiety. In those moments, there was anticipation and hope. But now he felt as if he had betrayed something very dear, even if he had not been aware he had done so.

  They greeted the few people milling around along the streets, walking in and out of shops. James tipped his hat; Marigold and Rachel curtsied.

  The clinic came into view, and even from a distance, James could see the burly man standing out in front of it with his hands on his waist was Mayor Langston.

  His palms became clammy, and a painful sort of tightness grew in his chest.

  Mr. Langston turned and saw them, and James watched as his features darkened. Rachel had been right. He was angry.

  James lowered his gaze, and he found himself staring at the basket Marigold had fixed for them. The table cloth was sticking out of one corner, and he could hear the water skins sloshing around inside. What was meant to be a perfectly wonderful day was turning dark rather quickly. He wished he could hide it, that maybe Rachel had been holding it instead. James knew all it would do was make Mr. Langston even angrier to see it.

  He was ashamed, though he was not entirely sure why. He was a grown man, after all. Marigold was not a child, either. The both of them were fully aware of the decisions they were making. And if Mr. Langston assumed James had bad intentions, then he wasn't as good of a judge of character as he thought he was.

  There were no greetings, no warm welcomes. James hadn't expected any. He certainly had expected the cold stare and apparent desire for information without having to say a word. He stared down at James as if he were nothing more than a slimy, poisonous insect.

  "Marigold, Rachel, you two head on home," Mr. Langston finally said. His voice was quiet, but rough. He didn't spare them more than a fleeting glance. His focus was entirely on James.

  "Father, come now. Whatever you say to him, you can certainly say to me," Marigold said, smiling.

  James appreciated her attempts to diffuse the situation, but he also knew nothing would be able to do that for them.

  "I said go on home," Mr. Langston said more firmly, his eyes narrowing. His bushy beard was bristling with anger.

  Marigold's face hardened in the same manner as her father's. Rachel remained silent, nearly cowering behind her sister.

  "If you must know, Father, this whole thing was my idea," Marigold said, taking a step toward him. "I thought he deserved a break. Mr. Connor works so hard, and I thought it might be nice -"

  "Because Mr. Connor decided to take a brea
k instead of do his job, one of our neighbors has to wait longer for treatment he could already be receiving," Mr. Langston replied, cutting her off. "Now go. Both of you. I will speak to you when I get home."

  And then he turned, and James knew he would not say anything else about it.

  Marigold must have understood the finality in his tone as well, for she glowered at him, silently smoldering.

  James wished very much that he could have been anywhere but at his clinic that morning when Marigold had appeared. She was suffering just as much as he was, and he never wanted her to have to suffer about anything.

  She reached across the distance between them and gently removed the basket from his hands.

  “Thank you, Mr. Connor,” she said, and then with another glare at her father, she took Rachel by the arm and started off again toward home.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, James saw Rachel start whispering furiously into Marigold’s ear.

  “Well, Mr. Connor,” Mr. Langston began. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  James looked up at Mr. Langston. “Sir, I am quite sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t play coy with me, boy,” Mr. Langston said, a snarl on his lips. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

  He gestured in the direction of the girls, who were quickly moving farther and farther up the road.

  James did not know what to say that wouldn’t upset Mr. Langston further. So he remained silent.

  “I was never informed, Mr. Connor, that you had the intention of pursuing one of my daughters.”

  His thick eyebrows were knitting together, his mouth frowning.

  “I would have liked that to have been made clear from the very beginning, Mr. Connor.”