she’d hit the right target, because beneath that scruffy beard, Mitch blushed.
“You’re Genevieve Hayes.”
“That’s good. I’m not very good at being Mrs. Mitch Campbell.”
He grinned down at her and looked slightly more relaxed. “Mollie’s a good woman, but she can be a bit of a stickler, if you catch my meaning. I’m just trying to figure out how I can make her understand that traveling this way was our only option. I’m pretty sure she’s going to tan my hide for putting you in this situation.”
Genny let out a bubble of laughter. “You’re frightened of her.”
“Heck yes, I am.” He put on an expression of mock fear. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
Mitch loved Mollie like a sister, and if she hadn’t already been married to Will when Mitch had met her, he might have fallen in love with her. How many women would allow their husbands to go gallivanting off into the wilderness year after year to take photographs? She didn’t like it and she let Will know it, but she understood that it was important, that Will was an important man. She was five foot nothing with a huge pile of dark hair, an Irish temper, and other than Genny, had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. And she was about to give him a large dose of anger, he was certain of it.
After stopping at the bank to close out his account, a process that made Mitch slightly sick to his stomach, he and Genny headed to the Jacksons’ place. The couple lived with their two children across from the photography studio that had been Mitch’s refuge. Sick of wandering since the war, he’d been looking for an odd job, and when he walked into that studio, he knew he’d found something that could make him stay. William Jackson recognized a kindred soul, a man with eyes still haunted by the things he’d seen, and immediately offered him not only a position, but a cot in the back room to sleep in. And that’s where he’d stayed for nearly five years, scrimping and saving and dreaming.
The Jacksons’ home was a two-story whitewashed clapboard house with a welcoming front porch. As Mitch walked down the street, his arm aching from his heavy pack, he instantly saw that Mollie was out on that porch with her youngest boy, playing jacks. She sat on the second step, while the boy was sprawled out on the porch floor, intent on the game.
And when she looked up and saw Mitch walking toward her, she stood, her face white, one hand going to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Oh, shit.
“He’s fine,” he said, hastening toward her, leaving Genny behind. “Will is fine, Mollie.”
Tears filled her eyes and she dropped her hand, which had now turned into a little fist. “You about scared the life out of me, Mitch Campbell, coming up to me like that, looking all worried.” And then she noticed Genny, standing a bit back.
“I’m sorry, Mollie. I can explain. This is Miss Genevieve Hayes and she’s the reason I’m here now. Let’s go on inside.”
Mollie looked at Genny and frowned, then smiled. “Of course. Come on, Seth, why don’t you go teach your sister how to play jacks.”
“She’s too little. She won’t be able to.”
“Then you can show her how good you are at it. The adults need to be alone.”
The boy scooped up the jacks and small ball and moved into the house.
“I think he’s grown two inches since we left,” Mitch said.
Mollie led the pair to a small sitting room that was hotter than Hades. He wondered, briefly, if Mollie had led them to the sun-filled room on purpose rather than the library, which he knew was far cooler.
“How is Will?” she asked, seemingly composed.
“Just fine, fine. Listen, I’m sorry for giving you a scare. I guess I should have sent you a telegram letting you know I was coming. With Miss Hayes.”
Mollie’s gaze shifted to Genny and she gave the younger woman a curiously cold look. Genny sat on a small settee, much like the one they’d shared on the train, and Mitch made
“You’re Genevieve Hayes.”
“That’s good. I’m not very good at being Mrs. Mitch Campbell.”
He grinned down at her and looked slightly more relaxed. “Mollie’s a good woman, but she can be a bit of a stickler, if you catch my meaning. I’m just trying to figure out how I can make her understand that traveling this way was our only option. I’m pretty sure she’s going to tan my hide for putting you in this situation.”
Genny let out a bubble of laughter. “You’re frightened of her.”
“Heck yes, I am.” He put on an expression of mock fear. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
Mitch loved Mollie like a sister, and if she hadn’t already been married to Will when Mitch had met her, he might have fallen in love with her. How many women would allow their husbands to go gallivanting off into the wilderness year after year to take photographs? She didn’t like it and she let Will know it, but she understood that it was important, that Will was an important man. She was five foot nothing with a huge pile of dark hair, an Irish temper, and other than Genny, had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. And she was about to give him a large dose of anger, he was certain of it.
After stopping at the bank to close out his account, a process that made Mitch slightly sick to his stomach, he and Genny headed to the Jacksons’ place. The couple lived with their two children across from the photography studio that had been Mitch’s refuge. Sick of wandering since the war, he’d been looking for an odd job, and when he walked into that studio, he knew he’d found something that could make him stay. William Jackson recognized a kindred soul, a man with eyes still haunted by the things he’d seen, and immediately offered him not only a position, but a cot in the back room to sleep in. And that’s where he’d stayed for nearly five years, scrimping and saving and dreaming.
The Jacksons’ home was a two-story whitewashed clapboard house with a welcoming front porch. As Mitch walked down the street, his arm aching from his heavy pack, he instantly saw that Mollie was out on that porch with her youngest boy, playing jacks. She sat on the second step, while the boy was sprawled out on the porch floor, intent on the game.
And when she looked up and saw Mitch walking toward her, she stood, her face white, one hand going to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Oh, shit.
“He’s fine,” he said, hastening toward her, leaving Genny behind. “Will is fine, Mollie.”
Tears filled her eyes and she dropped her hand, which had now turned into a little fist. “You about scared the life out of me, Mitch Campbell, coming up to me like that, looking all worried.” And then she noticed Genny, standing a bit back.
“I’m sorry, Mollie. I can explain. This is Miss Genevieve Hayes and she’s the reason I’m here now. Let’s go on inside.”
Mollie looked at Genny and frowned, then smiled. “Of course. Come on, Seth, why don’t you go teach your sister how to play jacks.”
“She’s too little. She won’t be able to.”
“Then you can show her how good you are at it. The adults need to be alone.”
The boy scooped up the jacks and small ball and moved into the house.
“I think he’s grown two inches since we left,” Mitch said.
Mollie led the pair to a small sitting room that was hotter than Hades. He wondered, briefly, if Mollie had led them to the sun-filled room on purpose rather than the library, which he knew was far cooler.
“How is Will?” she asked, seemingly composed.
“Just fine, fine. Listen, I’m sorry for giving you a scare. I guess I should have sent you a telegram letting you know I was coming. With Miss Hayes.”
Mollie’s gaze shifted to Genny and she gave the younger woman a curiously cold look. Genny sat on a small settee, much like the one they’d shared on the train, and Mitch made
Similar Books
