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It’s the year 1866—the Civil War is over and slavery has ended…
Yet life for 18-year-old Gracie Shaw takes an unexpected turn when she is “encouraged” to marry a man sight unseen. To ensure the financial stability of her family, she agrees—until a handsome stranger captures her attention and makes going through with the marriage almost impossible. Determined to start a new life far from his old one, former Confederate soldier Logan Finley boards a train headed West—to lawless territory. When he is entrusted with the duty to escort the loveliest woman he’s ever met, he realizes he wants more than just a fresh start. He wants her. While Gracie wrestles with her desires, she soon learns that there is more to Mr. Logan Finley than she could have ever imagined. Will she find the grace within to forgive their past—or will her anger and pain blind her to true love? |
Sneak Peek...
“Excuse us, sir.” When the man didn’t acknowledge them, Mrs. Dobson cleared her throat and not so subtly nudged his leg with her knee.
The man finally pulled back his hat, and Gracie drew in a sharp breath. At the small sound, the man swung his gaze to her, and the breath she forgot to release remained lodged in her throat. She recognized the cool, penetrating gaze from yesterday. It was the same man who had been watching her from the courtyard, whose gaze she had felt before she had even seen him. His beard-covered jaw was much sharper and prominent than she anticipated.
But it was his eyes that drew her. Standing only inches away from him, she could finally make out their color.
Firewood.
That’s what they reminded her of. They were the color of fresh firewood—a dark, tawny brown that held the same kind of heat. Even now, as he moved his gaze over her like a warm caress.
“Do you mind, sir?”
At Mrs. Dobson’s pointed question, the man slowly removed his legs from the seat across him.
“Thank you,” she murmured stiffly.
The man inclined his head, but never took his eyes off Gracie. Her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she averted her eyes as she followed Mrs. Dobson into the narrow space. To her dismay, the older woman took the seat at the window, across the man, forcing Gracie to sit beside him as Madeline came up behind her and took the seat across from him.
Gracie tried not to make a big deal over the seating arrangement, though she tried to create as much distance as she could in the close space. The wide skirt of her new dress, however, still brushed against his long legs.
“Are you comfortable enough, Miss Gracie?”
Gracie whipped her head around and stared at the stranger. She could only imagine the stunned expression on her face.
How…?
Then she realized he must have been standing among the crowd the entire time she’d been on that stage with Reverend Mavis.
“Yes,” she finally managed. “Thank you.” There was a hint of awareness in the man’s gaze that again held her captivated.
Mrs. Dobson deliberately cleared her throat and the corner of the man’s lips quirked into a slight smile. Something in Gracie’s belly fluttered.
“Have you two met?”
At Mrs. Dobson’s abrupt question, Gracie tore her gaze from the man’s and brought it to the older woman’s suspicious glare. Her face was paler than usual, most likely from their dash to board the train, but her eyes were clear and sharp.
“Yes, ma’am,” the man said. “I had the pleasure of hearing Miss Gracie sing yesterday.”
“During the celebration,” Gracie added, feeling the need to explain her unusual acquaintance with this stranger. She didn’t even know his name and yet felt as if they had just been caught in a secret.
Mrs. Dobson sized him up, her lips pursed and her moss-green eyes watchful. “Well, since you were gracious enough to allow us to sit with you, it’s only proper that we formally introduce ourselves, Mister…”
“Logan Finley, ma’am.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The man finally pulled back his hat, and Gracie drew in a sharp breath. At the small sound, the man swung his gaze to her, and the breath she forgot to release remained lodged in her throat. She recognized the cool, penetrating gaze from yesterday. It was the same man who had been watching her from the courtyard, whose gaze she had felt before she had even seen him. His beard-covered jaw was much sharper and prominent than she anticipated.
But it was his eyes that drew her. Standing only inches away from him, she could finally make out their color.
Firewood.
That’s what they reminded her of. They were the color of fresh firewood—a dark, tawny brown that held the same kind of heat. Even now, as he moved his gaze over her like a warm caress.
“Do you mind, sir?”
At Mrs. Dobson’s pointed question, the man slowly removed his legs from the seat across him.
“Thank you,” she murmured stiffly.
The man inclined his head, but never took his eyes off Gracie. Her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she averted her eyes as she followed Mrs. Dobson into the narrow space. To her dismay, the older woman took the seat at the window, across the man, forcing Gracie to sit beside him as Madeline came up behind her and took the seat across from him.
Gracie tried not to make a big deal over the seating arrangement, though she tried to create as much distance as she could in the close space. The wide skirt of her new dress, however, still brushed against his long legs.
“Are you comfortable enough, Miss Gracie?”
Gracie whipped her head around and stared at the stranger. She could only imagine the stunned expression on her face.
How…?
Then she realized he must have been standing among the crowd the entire time she’d been on that stage with Reverend Mavis.
“Yes,” she finally managed. “Thank you.” There was a hint of awareness in the man’s gaze that again held her captivated.
Mrs. Dobson deliberately cleared her throat and the corner of the man’s lips quirked into a slight smile. Something in Gracie’s belly fluttered.
“Have you two met?”
At Mrs. Dobson’s abrupt question, Gracie tore her gaze from the man’s and brought it to the older woman’s suspicious glare. Her face was paler than usual, most likely from their dash to board the train, but her eyes were clear and sharp.
“Yes, ma’am,” the man said. “I had the pleasure of hearing Miss Gracie sing yesterday.”
“During the celebration,” Gracie added, feeling the need to explain her unusual acquaintance with this stranger. She didn’t even know his name and yet felt as if they had just been caught in a secret.
Mrs. Dobson sized him up, her lips pursed and her moss-green eyes watchful. “Well, since you were gracious enough to allow us to sit with you, it’s only proper that we formally introduce ourselves, Mister…”
“Logan Finley, ma’am.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”