Upcoming works

 “Oh, please come with us,” Rebecca said with a great deal of interest. She was intrigued by this woman that had kept her brother so captivated that he forgot she was even nearby as they spoke to one another. No one had ever held his attention like that before. “It would be ever so much more fun if you join us.”

Raylen shook out the bottom of her green skirts to get the last bit of dust off them. “I’d be happy to.”

They walked along quietly for a moment, and then Raylen cleared her throat. “Is there anything in particular you were looking forward to doing? I’m sure your brother mentioned all the games and booths to you.”

Her eyes lit with excitement. “I was hoping to see my brother compete in the archery contest, but he says he isn’t going to do it this year.”

Raylen’s eyes swung to study his face, her brow furrowed. “Why ever not?”

He let his gaze meet hers, and he let her see the hot danger that lingered just beneath the surface. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to accept the prize this year.”

Her cheeks flamed, turning a very becoming pink that spread up her slender throat and over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes again. “I see,” she said.

“What is the prize?” Rebecca wanted to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” Thomas said to her, his eyes not moving from Raylen’s face. “I’m not participating.”

Rebecca huffed out a breath. Then her eyes lit on a booth that had an enormous crowd around it. “What is going on over there?”

Thomas turned his head. He was taller than most, so he could easily see above the crowd. “That is the baker’s booth. It looks like they just finished the cooking competition, and everyone is finishing off the leftovers.” He let his glance drop to his sister’s. “Would you like some?”

She clapped her hands. “Oh yes, please.”

He stopped pushing her chair and disappeared into the crowd with a nod of his head.

“My brother likes you a lot.”

Raylen turned to meet Rebecca’s honest gaze. Her eyes were large and open for her to read. It was a nice change from her guarded brother. “How do you know?”

She giggled. “He talks about you all the time. He’s never done that with any lady before.” She wrinkled her nose in thought. “He’s never mentioned anyone to me before actually.”

Raylen smiled. She couldn’t help it. The thought of him talking about her to his closest, most trusted relation warmed her heart. It made her hope shine just a bit brighter. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Rebecca’s hazel eyes lit with excitement, but she crossed a finger over her heart. “I swear not to speak a word.”

Raylen bent down so her mouth was next to her new friend’s ear, and she whispered, “I really like your brother too.”

Rebecca squealed with joy. “Oh, I knew it!”

“What is going on over here?” Thomas asked as he returned, balancing three small plates of apple tart.

Raylen straightened and gave him a dubious look. “Nothing. Girl talk.”

He grunted and handed them each a piece of tart. “The village baker won the contest.”

Raylen laughed. “Uh-oh, was Etienne furious?”

She knew her family’s cook was a Frenchman with a wild temperament, and he thought his food was beyond compare. He had been one of the contestants of the competition, along with her best friend Skylar Cranston’s cook.

Thomas gestured to the crowd. “He isn’t here. He must have run off after he lost.”

“Oh, dear,” Raylen said and took one of the pastries from his outstretched hand. “I suspect he is at home licking his wounds.”

“Who’s is this?” Rebecca asked as she took a bite of the dessert. “It is wonderful!”

“Madame Clemensoe’s, the Cranston cook.” Thomas finished his pastry in one big bite and hummed a bit with pleasure. “She’s over at the villager baker’s booth now getting some tips from the winner.”

Raylen laughed at that. Madame Clemensoe was just as good a cook as Etienne was. She was even just as French as he was, but apparently, she was a much better loser than their own cook.

“Darling, what are you still doing here?” her mother asked as she hurriedly approached them from the crowd of people surrounding the booths. She was a stunning copy of her daughter, looking like a slightly older version except for their eyes. Her blue eyes were wide with disbelief and irritation at the moment as she eyed her daughter. She grasped her elbow and took her plate out of her hands to push her forward down the street. “The archery tournament is starting, and you need to get into position to dispense the prize.”

“Mother, I was enjoying that pastry,” she groused as she looked behind her and saw Thomas pop the rest of it into his mouth with a hint of a smile on his lips. Her mother had shoved the plate into his hands as she pushed her away.

“You can eat later,” Cressida Fontaine scolded as she continued to push her.

Raylen tried to shake out of her grasp but was surprised when her mother moved behind her and started pushing her from behind. “Mother, stop it, I can walk on my own.”

“Not if I want you to do something,” she said and continued moving her, humming her displeasure when she looked down at the back of her dress. “You promised to participate in this fair, and now that the sun is shining again, this is your opportunity.”

When they reached the other end of the street, her brother Rourke was setting up the archery target by the edge of the woods, and a small crowd of people were gathering on the sidelines.

“I don’t understand you,” Raylen said when her mother pushed her to the small seat beside the contest arena where she was supposed to wait for the games to end. “Most mothers would be horrified if their unmarried daughter had to bestow a kiss on a young man that wasn’t their intended.”

“Yes,” Cressida said as she stared down at her daughter, “but most mothers don’t have you as a daughter.”

“Mother!”

“Don’t look so shocked,” Cressida said. She shoved her into the chair. “Sit.”

“Fine,” Raylen said as she straightened her skirts around her legs. “Who is competing this year?”

She looked to the group of men that were lining up for the contest. She made a face when she saw the slim pickings.

“Don’t make that face,” Cressida scolded and pushed a lock of her red-gold hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “There, very pretty.”

“This is the best we could do?” Raylen asked her with wide eyes, gesturing at the participants.

Her mother followed her gaze. “Well, it is for the fair, dear. Plus, there is Bernard, the grocer’s son. He isn’t too bad-looking.”

Raylen studied the young man. True, he wasn’t the worst of the bunch. He was tall, but he was a bit scrawny for her tastes. He had a nice full head of dark hair and a decent smile, but she felt nothing as she looked at him. She let her eyes wander to the other contestants. Standing beside Bernard was Randall Malloy, the seamstress’s son. He looked like he was barely younger than her youngest brother, Gabriel. He still had bad acne and really crooked teeth, and he blushed furiously whenever any woman looked at him. Her eyes moved to the next contestant as he joined the others, and she sat up a bit straighter. It was William Everest, the blacksmith’s son. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with muscular arms and dark features. He smiled at her with a set of straight white teeth, and she could see his eyes lingering on her as he took his place in the line of contestants. She had seen him around town. He had just returned from his travels around the world to help his father with the family business. His father was aging, and he had come back home to take over the business. She had set her sights on him when he first arrived, but that only lasted until Thomas had come back home from an extended business trip just a few days later. Thomas was her brother’s best friend, and he had spent many summers here whenever he was home from his school days. Raylen had always been more than fascinated by him and the feelings he stirred up in her. She had even told her best friend, Skylar, on more than one occasion that she fully expected to marry a man like him someday.

She saw movement behind William. Thomas parked Rebecca’s wheelchair there, and he was glaring at the younger man. Her breath hitched in her throat because if looks could kill, William would be six feet under by now.

“All right, are we all ready?” her older brother, Rourke, asked the crowd, his brown hair gleaming with red streaks in the sunshine now breaking through the clouds above.

Everyone cheered except for Thomas.

“Okay, the first to hit three bull’s-eyes will win the prize,” Rourke announced. He motioned to her. “And the prize this year will be a kiss from my lovely little sister, Raylen Fontaine.”

She stood and waved to the cheering crowd. Bernard beamed at her, Randall turned beet red, and William blew her a kiss. When she took her seat again, she threw a glance at Thomas. His eyes were hard as they bored into William’s back.

“All right, archers, take your marks!” Rourke shouted, catching her attention again. Whispering sparked through the crowd, followed by several gasps. Raylen turned her head and saw Thomas strapping a quiver to his back as he stepped over the line that separated the competitors to the crowd. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“We have a last-minute entry,” Rourke stated. He watched all the men settle into their positions. “Gentlemen, are you ready?”

“Bring on the prize!” William yelled, and the crowd laughed, but Thomas growled.

“Be careful,” Rourke warned the men, “she bites.”

“I’m counting on it,” Thomas said, and the crowd laughed again.

“Archers, take your places!” Rourke yelled again and then lowered a green flag.

All four men lifted their bows and fired. Three arrows whizzed through the air, all three hitting the bull’s-eye directly in the target, their colored ribbons flapping in the breeze. All the arrows were very close to one another. The fourth arrow with the yellow ribbon didn’t even make it halfway to the target. It plummeted and landed in the grass. Half of the crowd cheered and the other half laughed.

“Oh, I am afraid you are disqualified, Mr. Malloy.”

“Yeah, the goal was to hit the target!” someone yelled out from the crowd, making the young man turn even redder as he set his bow down and stalked out of the contest.

“Moving on to round two!” Rourke announced and lifted the flag again after one of the boys from the orphanage removed the arrows from the target, moved it several feet back, and ran off the field.

The green flag was lowered again. The red and blue arrows hit the bull’s-eye, but the green one was just shy of its mark. The crowd clapped wildly.

“Nice try, Mr. Walters,” Rourke said, and Bernard waved to the crowd and Raylen before exiting the competition. “That leaves two contestants,” Rourke announced as the arrows were collected again. “Mr. Everest and Mr. Kilborn.”

The crowd went crazy. Raylen clapped, too, wanting Thomas to win now more than anything in the world. She smiled, too, when Rebecca shouted, “You got this, Thomas!”

He smiled. He knew he could mop the floor with the cocky bastard that stood beside him.

“That kiss is mine,” William whispered to him as he lifted his bow.

Thomas growled again. There was no way in hell he was going to let this man kiss his girl. The target was moved back several more feet, and Raylen felt like she needed to squint to see the bull’s-eye.

“Final round!” Rourke yelled and lifted the flag again.

Thomas quickly glanced over at Raylen. She stood from her chair, her eyes wide and her hands folded together in prayer as she watched them. He let his smile spread across his lips. He knew she was praying he won this contest. He was more determined than before to get that kiss now. Their argument completely forgotten. The green flag lowered and the arrows released. A collective gasp spread through the crowd when the red arrow landed in the bull’s-eye, but the blue arrow planted itself in the dead center too, splitting the red one in half.

“Oh my god, we have a winner by a miracle shot!” Rourke shouted and gestured with the flag to the winner. “Thomas Kilborn!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, Rebecca shouting louder than most. He smiled and lifted his bow in a wave to them.

William stood beside him, his mouth hanging open. He moved to clap him on the back. “Nice try,” he said. “How did you do that?” the other man asked, his eyes wide with awe.

He laughed. “Practice.” He held his hand out for him to shake. “No hard feelings?”

The other man blinked but took his hand and pumped it. “None whatsoever. That was very impressive.”

“Thomas, come up and claim your prize!” Rourke hollered from the other side of the competition arena.

He swung his gaze to where Raylen was sitting. She had sat back down on her chair, and she was staring at the target with her mouth hanging open too. She looked completely dumbstruck. He held back a laugh. It wasn’t often that she looked like that. He found he rather liked surprising her. He stepped forward and started walking toward her. When she turned her head to meet his gaze, he saw her shut her mouth and then visibly swallow. He knew he wanted her kiss more than words could explain. He actually craved it, but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of all these people. He stared at her full lips as he neared her, forgetting completely why they had been fighting altogether. She slowly stood as he approached, her hand momentarily holding onto the back of her chair when he neared. When she lifted her head to look up at him, her lavender eyes were clear and bright. He let his smile grow. Without saying a word, he let his hand slide to the small of her back, and he guided her chest to his as he lowered his head. Her lips tasted like apple and sugar from the tart she just ate, but her fragrance suddenly surrounded him, making him want to sample more. She smelled of strawberries and wildflowers. It was a smell he recognized and wanted to bury himself in. The kiss was light and passionate but chaste enough as to not shock their observers. When their lips met, the crowd exploded with applause.

Raylen’s head was spinning. She couldn’t believe when he entered the competition after he had just announced he had no intention of participating. Then he won the competition he didn’t even want to be a part of. She had no idea what his intentions were. She couldn’t believe how he won either. He had practically decimated William’s arrow. It seemed like he was putting a stamp on his property the way he did it too. She wanted to be mad at him for acting like such a brutish male, but then he had been walking toward her, his eyes intense on getting what was deserved. He prowled forward with the air of a man on a mission, but his face had softened into that magical smile of his when he dipped his head to hers. She couldn’t do anything but melt into his embrace as he tasted her again. He smelled of rain, books, and his musky aftershave. She wanted to drown in that smell as his lips feasted on hers. She reached up and clutched his forearms, her fingernails digging into the muscles as his large hand pressed her into his body.

“Congratulations,” Rourke said, interrupting them entirely.

Raylen jumped, and Thomas lifted his head. His eyes were like molten chocolate as he stared down at her, but she watched them swiftly change when her brother clapped him on the back to get his attention. He turned his head and released her.

“That was amazing!” Rebecca announced as she pushed her chair in between them.

“Spectacular!” Cressida beamed, too, eyeing each of them knowingly.

Raylen clutched a hand to her stomach but didn’t speak.

“Could you teach me how to split an arrow like that?” Rebecca was asking.

Thomas briefly met Raylen’s gaze as he swallowed thickly. “Yes, of course.”

She hid a smile. Perhaps he was just as affected as she was by that kiss.

“Is this your sister?” Cressida was asking, her eyes lighting on Rebecca.

Thomas cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon. This is my little sister, Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Raylen’s mother, Cressida Fontaine.”

Rebecca did a small seated curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.”

Cressida reached out and took her hand in hers. “Oh, the pleasure is mine. Thomas has spoken very highly about you. I was wondering when we would get to meet.”

Rebecca laughed. “I don’t get out of the house a lot, I’m afraid. I am so excited to experience the fair this year though.”

Cressida squeezed her hand. “Well, we are happy you could be here. Your brother tells me you are an excellent musician.”

His sister’s eyes lit up. “I love the piano.”

“That’s wonderful,” Cressida enthused. “Our piano just sits there going out of tune. Raylen has no skill for it, and none of my other children are interested in it, I am afraid. I do miss hearing the sound of it. Their father used to play all the time.”

Her eyes suddenly lit with an idea. “I know, you should come over and play for us. Anytime you want.”

“Are you serious?” Rebecca practically jumped for joy. “Our piano is getting re-strung. I’d love to play yours if it won’t disturb anyone.”

Cressida waved away her concerns. “Come over whenever you want. What’s ours is yours.”