Listen to Your Heart Boxed Set

Listen to Your Heart

The Complete Series

by

Margaret Lake

Author of

historical, contemporary,

and fantasy romance

illustrated children’s books

graphic novels

http://www.margaretannlake.com

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Brave Heart

Listen to Your Heart

The Bold Heart

Contact

Copyright

THE BRAVE HEART - DESCRIPTION

October, 1917 – Lena Garson, 19 years old, daughter of an old-fashioned banker and his wife, thinks of herself as a very well-brought up young lady leading a quiet life with a predicable future. When Clarence Muldoon, son of the richest man in town, begins to court her, Lena feels her life is now going in the direction her parents want for her.

Jack Manning, born on the wrong side of the tracks but determined to make a better life for himself and his widowed mother, sees Lena as part of that life. All he has to do is convince Lena that love and laughter are worth much more than all the money Clarence Muldoon has to offer.

THE BRAVE HEART

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Description

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

October, 1917

Lena Garson pedaled her bicycle from her parents’ home on the outskirts of town to the small grocery store on Main Street. Mother had gotten so fussy since she’d sprained her ankle and Lena found herself traveling this dusty road nearly every day in search of something to brighten her mother’s spirits. At least Lena liked to think of it that way instead of catering to Ellen Garson’s every whim.

Besides, she liked the ride into town, especially this time of year with autumn evident in the blazing colors of the trees and a nip in the air that made her blood sing.

Only one thing marred Lena’s happiness and she felt some of her joy slip away as she approached the grocery store. There he was. Jack Manning. Tall and slim, blond hair gleaming even in the weak autumn sun, broad shoulders straining under his shirt as he wrestled barrels of apples to the front of the store.

He’d known she was there before she even arrived. He always seemed to know. Always seemed to be outside the store as if waiting for her. She hoped he wasn’t, but knew that was a vain hope every time he flashed those bright green eyes at her. But he had such a bad reputation.

Yes, he had a steady job, supported his widowed mother, and even took her to church on Sundays. But once his work day was done, gossip said he hung out at the saloon, shooting pool, of all things, betting money and even getting into fights! Mr. Jack Manning was definitely not the kind of young man her parents had in mind for her.

Good morning, Miss Garson, Jack nodded, giving her a cheeky grin.

Good morning, Mr. Manning, Lena replied, moving past him and into the store as quickly as she could. That cheeky grin always brought heat to her cheeks and a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach and it got worse every time she passed by him.

Jack tried to laugh off Lena Garson’s cool rebuff, but it wasn’t so easy anymore. It had started out as a sort of joke; grinning at her, sometimes a wink or a raised eyebrow, anything to break through that frosty reserve.

Now it was more than that. The dark-haired beauty had gotten under his skin and he was afraid he’d already ruined his chances by his forward behavior.

What chance did he have anyway? Lena’s father had a respectable job in the bank and was a pillar of the church. Jack’s father died in prison and he and his mother lived on the wrong side of the tracks.

At least he had a steady job. That was one thing in his favor. But stocking shelves and helping customers load their cars and wagons didn’t pay the bills, so he made a little extra shooting pool and delivering moonshine. A guy had to take care of his mother, didn’t he? And if he wanted to afford a wife, he’d better be able to rake in the dough one way or another.

Jack had a plan, alright. He had his eye on a sweet three-story Victorian that was about to become vacant and he’d saved enough money to move his mother into it next month. Plenty of room for a wife, too, and maybe a couple of kids. Trouble was, the only wife he could imagine in that house was Lena Garson and she turned up her nose at him every time she walked by.

Lena wasn’t as indifferent to Jack Manning as she wanted him to believe. He wasn’t only devastatingly handsome, there was something about him that made Lena feel like she did when riding her bike in the cool autumn air this morning. A sense of freedom and an urge to throw her head back and laugh.

But that was ridiculous. She was here to find something to cheer up her mother, not act like a flibbertigibbet.

Good morning, Lena. How is your mother? Henry Lloyd asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

On the mend, I’m sure, but fractious and chafing at the inactivity.

Your mother was always a busy woman. Hard to keep her down.

Yes, you know her well, Mr. Lloyd. Lena nodded at Mr. Lloyd but the tingling up her spine told her that Manning boy was watching her and it was hard to concentrate on why she was here.

Jack was dusting a row of canning jars when he heard Lena laughing with his boss. I could make her laugh like that if she’d only give me a chance, he muttered to himself, grinding his teeth in frustration.

So, what can I do for you today, Lena? Henry asked.

Lena cleared her throat, putting Jack out of her mind and reminding herself what she’d come there to do.

I need something to keep my mother occupied. She was never one much for reading, but maybe something to keep her hands busy?

Well, I’ll tell you, we just got some new wool in. Real pretty stuff. Make some fine hats and mittens for the poor kids in the orphanage with winter coming on.

Wonderful, Mr. Lloyd! Lena exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. Mama’s been fretting because she hasn’t been able to make her charitable visits since she got hurt and this might be just the thing to cheer her up.

Jack wasn’t sure how long he could keep on dusting those jars, but it was the only way he could be close to Lena. Besides, listening to the talk between her and Mr. Lloyd gave him an idea.

I’ll take the brown and the tan for the boys, and the pink and the gray for the girls, Lena told Mr. Lloyd.

He wrapped up several skeins of each color and entered the purchase in his account book.

"You let us know how your mother liked the wool.

I will, Mr. Lloyd, and I thank you for the suggestion. Lena bobbed a goodbye and turned to leave, all the while aware that Jack Manning watched her from the back of the store. The hairs at the back of her neck prickled, even with them all tucked up in a net. Lena knew she should be offended by the man’s blatant stare, but that prickly sensation was not altogether unpleasant, although she’d never admit it to anyone.

Let me help you with that package, Miss Garson, Jack murmured, taking it from her hands before she could protest.

Thank you, Mr. Manning, but it isn’t heavy and I can manage quite well myself. Lena tried to keep her tone cool, but his nearness caused her fingers to tremble so that she had to clasp her hands tightly together.

I’m sure you do many things quite well, Miss Garson, he told her, his sharp green eyes boring into her dark ones.

There was a challenge in those eyes and the mocking tone of his voice, as if he dared her to reject the courtesy in front of Mr. Lloyd and the other customers who’d just arrived.

Thank you, Mr. Manning. My bicycle is parked by the steps as you well know since you saw me arrive. There, that should let him know that I’m aware of his watching me, Lena thought.

Jack opened the door, inclining his head to indicate Lena should precede him onto the porch. She hurried out of the store, beating him to her bicycle by several seconds. His unhurried stroll to where she held on to the handlebars set her insides to seething. The man didn’t even try to hide his insolent stare.

Jack took his time, carefully laying the paper-wrapped parcel in her big basket, keeping his eyes on hers. He knew Lena had to be annoyed, but at least he’d gotten under her skin. At least she was aware of him.

Thank you, Mr. Manning, she nodded stiffly, then mounted her bicycle for the ride home.

At first Lena thought about how her and her mother would sit together, knitting for the poor orphans, but her thoughts kept returning to the devilishly handsome face of Jack Manning. No profit in that, as Mama would say. She could almost hear her mother’s voice in her head. Best keep your mind on the straight and narrow, child. The only problem was, the straight and narrow tended to be a bit boring when set alongside the challenge in Jack’s eyes.

Lena arrived home, firmly pushing all thoughts of that Manning boy to the back of her mind. At least that allowed her to greet her mother with an innocent smile and a daughterly kiss.

I brought you something, Mama, she said, laying the package in Ellen Garson’s lap.

What is it? Ellen asked suspiciously.

Open it and see, Lena smiled, removing the pins from her hat. She knew her mother was normally not like this. It was just being laid up and not allowed to walk around and do things that made her so crotchety.

Wool! Now what am I going to do with all this! Ellen complained.

Why, Mama, we’re going to sit together and knit things to keep those poor orphans warm during the winter, Lena replied, not giving in to her mother’s bad mood.

Ellen sat for a few minutes, chewing over the idea, but she couldn’t find anything wrong with Lena’s plan.

Lena held her breath, watching her mother’s thoughts flit across her face. When Ellen finally smiled back, Lena let out her breath, and leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek.

I’ll make us some tea and we’ll start right away. Okay, Mama?

You do that, my dear. You’re a good daughter, Lena.

Thank you, Mama, Lena replied. I love you, too.

Jack waited until after midnight to put his plan into action. He was delivering moonshine, and guided the horses past the Garson’s house on his way to the meeting place.

He hitched the horses a little distance away so they wouldn’t be heard. He’d just have to take the chance that no one would be out for a midnight stroll and steal the moonshine; horses, wagon and all. But then he was all about taking chances. It’s what made his life fun and exciting.

If Lena became his wife, he’d maybe have to change some. Settle down a bit. Find a better job. Give up the whiskey runs.

Jack didn’t like that idea so much. He enjoyed outwitting the revenue men, but he knew Lena wouldn’t like him doing anything illegal. And by the time they got around to being married, he’d have quite a stash under his mattress. More than enough to take care of his wife and mother until he found some legal ... or at least semi-legal ... enterprise to keep them going.

Anyway, this was the first step in his campaign to show Lena Garson he was a decent guy.

Creeping up to the Garson’s front porch, Jack left a carefully wrapped package by the front door. When Lena opened, it she’d know exactly who it came from.

Barney Garson had already left for the bank when the door knocker sounded and Lena rushed to see who was calling. Clarence Muldoon stood erect, hat in one hand, flowers in the other and a paper-wrapped parcel tucked under his arm.

Good morning, Mr. Muldoon, Lena greeted him, pasting a friendly smile on her face. Won’t you come in?

Mr. Muldoon, Sr., owned the only hotel in town and had his finger in quite a few other pies in the county. When Clarence had asked her father’s permission to come calling, Barney had been more than happy to give his consent. He wanted only the best for his beautiful daughter and knew she’d have a good life if she married this young man.

Don’t mind if I do, Clarence replied, stepping across the threshold.

Mama, Mr. Muldoon has come to see you and he’s brought presents.

Lena knew very well that the man had spoken to her father, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be courted by such an old stick. Maybe he wasn’t old in years, but he certainly stood around stiffly with hardly a word to say for himself.

That’s why she deliberately misunderstood the situation and put Clarence in the position of having to present her mother with his gifts. She wasn’t yet ready to accept anything from the man and maybe she never would be. No sense encouraging him when blond hair and emerald green eyes kept getting in the way.

I’ll put these flowers in water for you, Mama, she said, creating an opportunity to slip out of the room. By the time Lena got back, her mother had opened the package.

Look, Lena, Mr. Muldoon has given me the same wool you bought for us yesterday. She turned toward the confused young man. How did you know?

I, uh, well, I, uh, just thought it would suit.

And the apples, Mr. Muldoon? Lena asked.

"Well, they, uh, looked so ripe and juicy, I thought you might like some. You know what they say. An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

Clarence had to control himself from running his finger under his collar. He hadn’t meant to claim the gift as his own. It had just happened that way and now it was too late to tell the truth. Besides, there was no calling card in the package and Clarence thought it was pretty cowardly to leave anonymous gifts.

I see, Lena said, puzzled by the strange combination of yarn and apples, not to mention Mr. Muldoon’s reluctant responses. He didn’t usually have much to say for himself, but when he did, he spoke with a quiet timidity. Not this time. Not only was the man stammering and stuttering over a couple of simple questions, but he appeared to be blushing as well. Made him seem almost human.

I do thank you for your kindness, Mr. Muldoon, Ellen said. Won’t you sit down? We were just about to have some tea.

Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am, Clarence replied, taking a seat across from the sofa where Ellen sat, and where he couldn’t help but notice some of the same yarn peeking out of the knitting basket. No wonder the ladies were confused by his so-called gift. He would have been better off to interrupt Miss Lena and tell her right away he’d found the package on her doorstep.

By the time Lena brought the tea things in from the kitchen, Clarence was sitting stiffly opposite her mother while Ellen attempted to start a conversation.

Your father is well, Mr. Muldoon? Ellen asked.

Yes, Ma’am.

And your mother? I haven’t seen her in church lately.

She’s caring for her sister in New York who has not been well of late.

Oh, I do hope it’s nothing serious!

No, ma’am.

Ah, here’s Lena with the tea. Ellen was glad of the distraction. Maybe Lena could get more out of Mr. Muldoon than she had.

How do you take your tea, Mr. Muldoon? Lena asked.

Cream and sugar, please.

Lena prepared the cup and handed it to Clarence, then arranged four cookies on a plate and attempted to hand that to him as well. Unfortunately, he still held his hat in one hand while the other hand held the tea cup.

Lena bit her lip to hold back a giggle. She stole a look at her mother who was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

May I take your hat, Mr. Muldoon?

Yes, I ... uh ...

Lena put the plate of cookies on the table beside Clarence and took his hat, placing it on the same table. Now if he would only get the hint that he could do the same with his teacup, he might feel a little more comfortable.

Ellen felt sorry for the young man. Everyone knew his father kept the boy under his thumb and never let him make a decision about even the smallest thing. No wonder he was shy around people. It was a miracle he even had the gumption to come here on his own. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was under orders from his father to court Lena, although Ellen had no idea why the senior Muldoon would decide on her daughter for his son.

The Garson’s were respectable, god-fearing, middle-class people, but not in the same league as the Muldoons with all their money and property. Maybe the old man thought a girl like that, raised properly and unspoiled, might be more biddable than a society girl. He’d want to control his son’s marriage, too.

Ellen would be worried that Lena might be dazzled by all that wealth, but she knew that, as sweet and well-behaved as she seemed on the outside, there was a streak in Lena that wouldn’t take kindly to being ordered around.

Lena noticed that Mr. Muldoon hadn’t touched the cookies and had barely sipped the tea. He’d said nothing, either, other than to thank her.

Ellen had just opened her mouth in another attempt to start a conversation when Lena interrupted her.

Mr. Muldoon, do you often shop at Mr. Lloyd’s store? she asked, all innocence. It had just occurred to her that none of the Muldoons would be caught dead in a store frequented by the common people.

No, I ... uh ... no. I ... uh ... was driving by on my way here and saw the apples outside, thinking to buy them for cook.

Lena almost felt sorry for the blushing, stammering young man, but she was beginning to doubt his story. Although why he would lie about it, she had no idea.

More tea? Ellen asked, pasting on a bright smile.

No. No, thank you, Mrs. Garson. I really must be going. Clarence carefully set his cup down on the side table, praying he wouldn’t drop it. Hat in hand, he bowed to Ellen and Lena.

Thank you for the tea. No need to see me out.

Lena stared after Clarence, her mouth slightly open. The longest speech he made in the fifteen minutes he’d been there had been to say goodbye.

Clarence paused, his hand on the door, then turned back to Lena.

Miss Garson. May I trouble you to join me on the porch for a moment?

Of course, Mr. Muldoon, she replied, raising her eyebrows at her mother.

Once outside, Clarence turned his hat round and round in his hand, not knowing where to begin. At last, he straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. The Garsons were nice people and they deserved to know the truth.

I’m sorry, Miss Garson. I owe both you and your mother an apology.

For what, Mr. Muldoon? Though the man hadn’t spoken much, he certainly hadn’t been rude.

The yarn and ... well, it was sitting right here and I picked it up and you just assumed ... I mean, I was embarrassed to tell you ...

That the gift wasn’t from you? Lena prompted.

Yes, exactly, he sighed, relieved that he she guessed the truth.

Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Muldoon, Lena smiled, hoping to put the young man at his ease. She was only nineteen to his twenty-three, but he seemed so much younger than that with his quiet and shy ways.

And thank you for your forbearance, Miss Garson, he nodded, relieved at her understanding. I’ll take my leave now, and trouble you no more.

Mr. Muldoon, she called as he turned to go, would you like to call again?

Clarence turned around slowly, hardly daring to believe his ears.

Are you sure? I mean, yes, Miss Garson, I would be honored to call on you again. At your convenience, of course.

Lena was pleased to see that he had gained a little confidence. She hadn’t meant to be forward. Her mother had warned her often enough that men didn’t like that. But the poor fellow obviously needed to be coaxed.

Perhaps day after tomorrow at the same time?

I shall look forward to it, he bowed, smiling for the first time.

As shall I, Mr. Muldoon, she smiled back, then waited on the porch for him to drive away.

Not a handsome man, but well set-up and gentlemanly. Not at all like that impertinent Jack Manning, she thought. Who was probably the one who’d left the package on her front porch. He’d seen her buy the wool and she’d seen him hauling barrels of apples. He’d obviously intended the apples as a calling card.

Apples! Lena snorted to herself. Why should I settle for apples when I can have the whole orchard if I want it? But the thought left Lena curiously unsettled as she turned to go back into the house.

CHAPTER TWO

Lena hadn’t been to the store in several days, and Jack knew why. Clarence Muldoon was courting her. He’d seen them at the filling station where he’d gone to buy kerosene and he’d been seen driving out to her house at least twice in the last week. And after Jack had spent his hard-earned money on her ... money that should have gone to his mother ... she hadn’t even stopped by to thank him. Women!

Jack wanted nothing more than to shove that namby-pamby’s face into the nearest mud hole. Then he got mad at Lena for being so stupid as to fall for that milksop, just because he had money. Lots and lots of money. Daddy’s money, of course. Junior’d never done a lick of real work in his life. Pencil pusher, he snorted to himself.

Well, he’d show her a thing or two about being a man and making money and taking care of your own. Just wait until he moved Ma into that nice house on Pittman Avenue. Then she’d see that he wasn’t just some no-account from the wrong side of the tracks.

They’d be moving next week and the church ladies would probably bring food and stuff to the house out of respect for his mother. Ma had always done her bit for the church, as much as she was able, anyway, since she’d always been poorly, so the ladies were bound to come and Lena with them. Then she’d see how he was moving up in the world. Then he’d rub her nose in it.

Lena was feeling all fluttery and nervous inside. She and her mother were on their way to the Mannings’ new home with a pot of beef stew and an apple pie. Lena hadn’t wanted to go, but it was her mother’s first outing with a cane since she sprained her ankle and she needed Lena to help her.

Lena tried to tell herself this was just a duty call and there was nothing to be nervous about. She’d been doing this since she was nine years old and judged mature enough to sit quietly while her mother visited. But this time, she was a woman grown and Jack Manning would be there.

She hadn’t seen him in over a week, but thoughts of him intruded at the most inconvenient times like when she was knitting with her mother and mama was chattering away about this and that. Or worse, when she was riding in Clarence’s motorcar and he was so quiet and shy. She knew it was up to her to make conversation, but that was impossible when she thought about Jack spending his hard earned money on a present for her. A present that he’d put some thought into.

It’s not that she didn’t like Clarence. She did ... at least as much as she could like someone that hardly ever smiled or talked, even. Or laughed. Lena just couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life with someone she couldn’t laugh with.

Neither could she imagine herself with Jack. Not only wouldn’t her parents approve, but if the gossip about him were true, she didn’t want to live like that either. Why, one Sunday he’d come into church with his eye blackened and his lip split as saucy and uncaring as you please when he should have had the decency to stay at home and not shame his mother.

Lena helped her mother down from the carriage and turned to pick up the food basket. It was going to be a chore to carry the basket and help her mother up the porch steps. She was just thinking she should come back for the basket when the front door opened and Jack hurried out.

Mrs. Garson, it sure is nice of you to come. Ma will be pleased to see you’re out and about.

Just being neighborly, is all, Ellen smiled.

Are you sure Dr. Warren would approve? he asked, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Who do you think gave me this cane? she replied, waving it in the air.

Whoa, you be careful, now. I’ll help you up the steps, he declared. You just lean on me.

He hadn’t said a word to Lena and she felt like a fool, standing there with the basket in her hands while her mother was being swept away by that rascally Jack Manning.

Miss Garson, I’ll take that basket if you’ll just go on ahead and hold the door open for us.

Certainly, Mr. Manning, Lena replied, frost shimmering in the air around her. The least he could do was look at her. But, she had to admit, he was taking very good care of her mother, holding on to her arm, slowing his steps to match hers, speaking to her politely and making her smile.

So taken was Lena by the courtesy the man was showing to her mother that she forgot to glare at Jack when he flashed those emerald eyes at her and sent her one of his cheeky grins.

Jack turned away from Lena before she realized she’d actually smiled at him. Well, almost smiled. Best not to push his luck. He’d let the ladies talk while he brought the food into the kitchen and made coffee. He could smell apple pie and a slice would keep Lena from leaving.

That almost smile had given him hope and an idea how to win over the prickly Lena Garson. After all, didn’t Ma always say you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? Time to see if that worn out old saying was right.

Mrs. Garson, Miss Garson, I took the liberty of slicing up that delicious smelling pie you baked. Hope I did all right with the coffee, he said, a sheepish smile on his face.

Now, Jack, I’m sure the coffee will be fine, Ruth Manning told her son. Don’t you make the coffee every morning? And don’t I have two cups every morning?

You do indeed, Ma, Jack grinned.

Ruth turned to Ellen. My Jack takes such good care of me. So ambitious. Working in the store all day, and making deliveries at night. I swear, I don’t know how he does it, she sighed, looking at her son fondly.

It’s not so hard, Ma, he told her, taking her hand, not when I know I can keep you in comfort.

This was a Jack that Lena hadn’t known existed. And, she had to admit, all she’d had to go on were rumors of his waywardness and the brazen way he looked at her. Well, not just rumors. There was that black eye. She’d never really had a conversation with the man, and to her shame, realized she’d never even tried to get to know him. And maybe there was an innocent explanation for that black eye.

I didn’t know you did deliveries for Mr. Lloyd in the evening.

For Mr. Lloyd and anyone else who needs something delivered, he told Lena, simply.

He wasn’t at all like the braggart she’d thought he was, but there was still something in his eyes; a glint, a sparkle, a zest for life that sent a thrill up Lena’s spine.

You’re a lucky woman, Ruth, Ellen smiled.

If you ladies are done embarrassing me, Jack grinned, maybe I could get a taste of this pie.

I hope you like it, Lena said, ducking her head modestly.

I’m sure I will, he said, sinking his fork into the flaky crust.

Lena held her breath until she saw Jack close his eyes, delighting in the taste of apples and cinnamon. She’d had compliments on her baking before, but she was ridiculously pleased by Jack’s obvious appreciation.

Good? she asked, anxiously.

Heaven, he replied, finally opening his eyes and giving her a wink.

The wink almost spoiled it, but then Lena realized it was just Jack’s way. He wasn’t being brazen. He was just being ... well ... Jack ... and Lena couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Thank you, Mr. Manning. Although Lena smiled, she lowered her eyes demurely as befitted a well-brought up young lady. But she wasn’t sure the fluttering in her stomach was something of which her mother would approve. She wasn’t even sure if she approved of it herself. And she had the uncomfortable feeling that Jack was very aware of her flutters.

"Mrs. Garson, I do hate to eat and run, but I have to get to the depot to pick up a shipment for Mr. Lloyd.

He turned to Lena with a serious look. Miss Garson, I do thank you for the pie and I hope you'll come visiting again so we can return your kindness.

It was quite a courteous speech from someone who was raised on the wrong side of the tracks and Lena was impressed in spite of herself.

Thank you for your kind invitation, Mr. Manning, Lena replied, inclining her head graciously, but properly waiting for her mother to answer for them.

That would be lovely, Mr. Manning. I'll make arrangements with your mother. Now, you run along and don't mind about us. We'll manage just fine."

Lena let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and ducked her head to hide the little smile she couldn't help. No sense giving Jack Manning any encouragement when she was sure her parents would want her to marry Clarence Muldoon.

Oh, they hadn't said anything, but he was just the kind of man they would prefer for their only daughter, and Lena knew it.

Not, of course, that she would ever consider marrying the Manning boy ... even if he was the marrying kind ... but those snapping green eyes spoke of adventure and fun and ... and ... ... and freedom!

Lena was appalled at the turn her thoughts had taken. She was a good daughter and not one to be yearning to break free of her bonds ... if she had any bonds ... which she didn't, of course. That was just an absurd thought and had no place in the mind of a properly brought up young lady ... which she was ... most definitely.

And Clarence Muldoon would be a good provider. Not that Jack Manning didn't provide for his mother. That was a real cameo she had pinned to her blouse, and this house was certainly a step up from the tiny cottage they'd lived in across town. But it was one thing to provide for an elderly woman and another to provide for a wife and several children.

No, it was time to put Jack out of her mind before she forgot who she was and what her life was supposed to be.

Turning her attention back to the conversation between her mother and Ruth Manning, Lena straightened her spine, pasted a smile on her face, and resolutely ignored the pang in her heart.

Jack was whistling all the way to church on Sunday. He'd be seeing Lena and there might be a chance for some harmless flirting before the services. No sense reforming too much, he grinned to himself.

Not only that, but the Garsons were coming to call after church for coffee and pastries. Most likely, Mr. Garson would not have called on his mother if Jack hadn't been depositing money in the bank where the man worked. Jack had a fine little nest egg salted away. Another step on the path to legitimacy.

So, at the house, he'd be on his best behavior to make a good impression on the Garsons, but it might just be possible to get Lena alone, maybe in the kitchen, for a little sweet talk. He needed to move fast if he was going to beat out Clarence Muldoon and his pots of gold.

Even when he saw that pasty-faced Muldoon take Lena's arm to escort her into the church, Jack wasn't discouraged. Muldoon might not have noticed it, but the girl leaned away from him. The man's ram-rod straight posture did nothing to encourage any kind of intimacy between them, either, and he'd bet his bottom dollar that Lena had more spirit than Muldoon could ever handle.

Jack removed his cap and stuffed it in his pocket before passing through the double doors not far behind the Garsons so he could keep a sharp eye on them. He snorted and had to duck his head when he saw Lena reclaim her arm and nod at Muldoon. She then proceeded to enter the pew ahead of her parents, leaving Muldoon standing awkwardly in the center aisle. He nodded respectfully at Mr. and Mrs. Garson, then made his way to the front of the church and his own family pew.

Looked like Lena did have a mind of her own and she wasn't yet ready to commit herself to Muldoon by inviting him to join her family at services. Funny that neither of her parents had invited the man considering he was the best catch in the county.

Maybe they were reluctant to hand their daughter over to old man Muldoon, for that's what would happen if Lena married little Clarence. She'd be under that tyrant's thumb and would probably never see her family again.

Jack didn't want to get too cocky, but he was feeling better and better about the chances of making the delectable Lena Garson his wife. Her respectability was just what he needed to help him take his rightful place in this small town's middle-class society. Not to mention her rightful place in his bed.

Ruth Manning was all in a flutter over Mr. Garson coming to her home for coffee. It was one thing to entertain a lady she'd worked on church committees with, but Mr. Garson was an unknown quantity. She'd only seen him waiting for Mrs. Garson in their buggy (he didn't hold with new-fangled inventions like motorcars, even though they'd been around for decades). Sitting up straight and tight-lipped, even though he nodded at the ladies and doffed his hat in respect, he seemed the picture of buttoned up respectability.

And even though Ruth now lived in a nice house in the better part of town, she was sure all the man would be thinking about was where she'd come from and who her husband had been.

Not to mention the rumors about Jack. Ruth was well aware of what the town said about her son, but all she knew was that the boy worked himself to the bone to make a better life for both of them. And what more could a mother ask than that?

At least Pastor and Mrs. Gilman were coming as well and would help ease any awkwardness.

Now, Ma, you sit and rest. Put your feet up. I'll see to everything, Jack told her, easing Ruth into the chair with a cushion under her feet.

You don't have to do that, Jack, Ruth protested. I'm feeling just fine.

I know that, Ma, and I want to keep it that way. Besides, this is a very important opportunity for me. I want to talk to Mr. Garson about a loan and I'm hoping the Pastor will vouch for me.

A loan, Ruth croaked, clutching her throat with her hands. What's happened? Did you spend too much money on the house and my cameo? Oh, Jack, she moaned. You haven't lost all your money, have you?"

No, Ma, nothing like that, he laughed. Have a little more confidence in me, okay?

Alright, Jack, she agreed, but you would tell me if something like that happened, wouldn't you?

I would, Ma, you know I would, Jack murmured soothingly, kissing his mother on the forehead. And I'll tell you all about it when I get the loan from Garson.

Alright, son. I'll trust you.

Jack hurried to the kitchen to put on the coffee, hoping to have it near ready by the time the guests arrived.  The apple tarts and almond cookies his mother had baked the day before were already set out on trays, ready to be served.

The doorbell rang and Jack wiped his hands after slicking his shaggy, blond hair back behind his ears. He badly needed a haircut, but there never seemed to be any time, he thought as he hurried to the door.

Come on in, folks, he called to them heartily. From the look Mr. Garson shot him, Jack knew that hadn't been the proper greeting and right then he determined to watch these people and learn good manners.

Maybe not Mr. Garson. He was too stiff and formal. But surely the Pastor would be a good man to ape. Everybody respected and admired Pastor Gilman, not just because of his position in the church, but because he was a good man with a kind word for everyone.

That's how you get along in the world, Jack thought. Make it your business to know everyone and know something about them all so you could talk to them kind of personal like. Make it seem like you're interested. That's what the Pastor did, and Jack thought he ought to do it as well, if he was going to be a success in his business.

Jack took everyone's coats and hats and hung them on the wall tree, then he ushered them into the parlour where his mother was waiting, standing by her chair.

During all the fussy hellos and asking-afters, Jack slipped back into the kitchen to check on the coffee. It was nearly done, but now he was stuck. They had no coffee service and all their cups and saucers were mismatched. He hadn't thought about those matters when he'd rented the house and now he didn't know what to do. He couldn't ... wouldn't have his mother embarrassed.

I thought you might need some help, Mr. Manning, Lena said softly to his bowed back. There was something wrong here and Lena thought it might be more than just his first attempt at entertaining in the new house. Then she realized that the Mannings probably never entertained at all and Jack hadn't a clue what to do next.

Yeah, well, we forgot to pack the silver coffee service, Jack sneered, trying to cover-up his embarrassment.

In that case, Mr. Manning, I suggest we pour the coffee in here and offer your guests full cups. So much less awkward, don't you think? she smiled.

Jack straightened up and returned her smile, relieved that Lena wasn't looking down her nose at him. In fact, she was treating him like an equal. And it was at that moment, that Jack Manning truly lost his heart to Lena Garson.

I think that you are not only the most beautiful girl in town but the kindest, and I thank you most sincerely.

Jack took her hands and lifted them to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips across her knuckles for the briefest of moments. He didn't want to risk scaring this precious gift away, and that's what his Lena was. The most precious gift in the world. Not to be taken lightly, but to be cared for and loved and he knew he would spend the rest of his life working to be worthy of her.

Lena's stomach dropped to her knees at the intimate and unfamiliar gesture. At the same time, her blood rose to stain her cheeks a bright red. Not in embarrassment, but in yearning for something that only this man could give her.

Jack knew he had to take control of the situation before Mr. Garson came storming into the kitchen, demanding that Jack unhand his daughter.

Miss Garson, if you would be so kind as to put the cups on that tray there, I'll pour the coffee.

Of course, Mr. Manning, she whispered, unable to trust her voice, but she, too, knew they had to act as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all. But she wondered if anyone in the other room noticed the small earthquake that had trembled through her body.

Lena mentally shook herself and began to lay out the cups on the tray, noticing it wasn't a tray at all, but a baking sheet covered with a tea towel. The pastries were on the same sort of arrangement, and Lena's heart went out to this brave man and his mother, trying to move up in the world. She'd talk to her mother and together they would find a way to furnish, not only the kitchen, but the whole house. After all, what were church ladies for?

CHAPTER THREE

Jack waited until their company was well on the way down the road before giving a loud whoop and leaping into the air.

Ma! Where are you? he yelled.

In the kitchen, dear, she called, already doing the washing up. It went well?

It sure did. When I told Mr. Garson about my plans to open a freight hauling business, and Pastor Gilman said he thought it was a fine idea, I got invited to come into the bank tomorrow to talk to him about the loan. Ain't that grand, Ma?

Oh, son, I'm so proud of you. I had no idea you were thinking about going into business. But are you sure? Isn't that awfully risky?

Sure it is, Ma. But that's the fun of it. You take your chances on the roll of the dice and sometimes it's snake-eyes, but sometimes you hit the jackpot. I've already got contacts all over the county from doing deliveries for old-man Lloyd and those guys back in the woods. I'm just setting up on my own, now.

Alright, Jack. I'll try not to worry, Ruth told him reluctantly. After the way his father had died, and so young, too, she couldn't help but worry about her boy.

And, Ma, something else. Jack took her hands in his, holding them tight. As soon as I have enough money saved, I want to get married.

Married? To who? Ruth asked, nervously. It would be just like Jack to go after one of the Muldoon girls. He'd get his head stove in the minute their father heard.

Jack gulped back his fears and took a deep breath. Lena. Lena Garson.

Oh, no! Jack, don't you know she's all but promised to Clarence Muldoon? If you try to take her away from him, his father will crush you like a bug. And what about Mr. Garson? What about your loan?

He won't know a thing until after the wedding, Jack laughed. By then I'll be so successful, he won't have any reason to object.

Trust me, Ma, he pleaded, shaking her hands in his.

I do, son. Truly I do, she protested, but in her heart she was mortally afraid.

Jack was glad he'd had his mother trim his hair the night before. Even though he didn't have a suit or even a tie, he was neat and clean with his collarless shirt buttoned up to his neck.

Okay, so he didn't have one of them fancy leather folder things, but he had his papers all done up nice in a paper folder tied with a ribbon. It was what was on those papers that was important, not how he carried them.

He'd spent hours figuring the customers he could get, the amount of freight he could haul, and how much he could charge and he hoped Barney Garson would be impressed.

Jack swaggered into the bank, determined to show old man Garson that he was someone to be reckoned with. No stiff-necked, fuddy-duddy was going to push him around. But then he thought of his mother. He thought of Lena and the gentle ways of both women, and he knew he had to adopt a whole new attitude.

Mr. Garson, thank you for seeing me, Jack told him, but did not offer his hand. It would be too humiliating if the man refused to shake.

Sit down, young man, Garson said, barely nodding his head. Now, what's all this about a freight business?

This sure was different from yesterday with the Pastor there adding his two cents in. Jack was on his own and he'd never backed down from a fight, yet. He couldn't use his fists, but he could use his God-given common sense.

Yes, sir, Jack nodded. As I said yesterday, I do the odd hauling job for Mr. Lloyd who is my present employer and a bit here and there for other businesses, but if I went into the business full-time, more businesses and just plain folks, too, would be able to use my services.

And you want a loan to tide you over until your business becomes a success?

No, sir, Jack shook his head. I've got enough put by to see us through the next few months, and if need be, I can take on some odd jobs here and there, but I mean to put my back into this thing and make it work.

Then why do you need money from the bank?

"That old wagon of mine needs fixing up, and I want to paint it up nice with my name on the sides. Manning Haulers. We take on all size jobs. Something like that."

Is that all?

No, sir. I figure I'll need a second horse. Old Charlie isn't getting any younger and he won't be able to work a full day. I plan on working from sunup to sundown and I need to make sure my horse isn't gonna quit on me.

What about a motorcar? Seems like the blasted things are all over the place these days, Garson asked, his displeasure evident in his clenched fists.

I won't say no down the road, sir. If my business is going to grow, we have to grow with the times. But for right now, it's just going to be me and my horses and the sweat of my brow.

Barney Garson was impressed in spite of himself. As far as he was concerned, Jack Manning was nothing more than a cheeky upstart from the wrong side of the tracks, and only his wife's urgings had induced him to take Sunday coffee with the man and his jumped-up airs.

Alright. You've thought about the equipment and you seem to be confident that you can handle the work. But what about the business side? Cash-in-hand, expenses, accounts receivable, capital outlay.

I have it all figured here, sir, Jack nodded, untying the tapes holding his precious folder together and handing the papers to Garson.

"To be honest, I'm not much for figuring, but I can add two and two and know how much it'll take to keep Manning Haulers afloat and still put food on the table.

I know I'm going to have to hustle all over the county and maybe way past that. But I'm willing to hustle and I'm willing to learn and I'm willing to take my lumps along the way if I have to."

Jack couldn't help but lean over the desk, slapping his hand down and startling Barney so that his chair jumped back a few inches.

That's how much this means to me, sir, and come heaven, hell or high water, Manning Haulers will be a success with my name painted on wagons and motorcars and maybe even my horse's patoot all over the state before I'm done.

Barney cringed a bit from the intensity of that deep emerald gaze, but he saw a man totally committed to his dream, a man not afraid of hard work ... or anything else for that matter ... and knew he'd recommend making this loan.

Well, Mr. Manning, I think I can recommend this loan to the bank president, although I can't speak for him. I'd like to go over your figures before I submit your application, maybe get you a bit more money to see you through. Your mother's a good woman and I know you want to do right by her. No sense moving her into a new house only to find all your income tied up in the business so you can't make your rent payments.

I'd be most beholden for your help in that area, sir, Jack nodded. He slowly straightened up, sitting casually back in his chair, although he wanted nothing more than to sag in relief.

Garson rose in his chair offering his hand to Jack. Drop by tomorrow at this time, Mr. Manning, and I'll have Mr. Chumlee's answer. We'll go over the revised figures then and get you set up.

Jack shook Barney Garson's hand unable to do more than nod his head and mumble his thanks. It wasn't until he got out to the sidewalk that he realized that Barney Garson had not only shaken his hand, but called him Mr. Manning twice. That's when he began to believe that Lena's father just might consider him good enough for his daughter.

Jack wanted to run and whoop and holler all the way home to tell his mother, but he forced himself to walk sedately down the street, greeting the passers-by and tipping his cap to the ladies. Potential customers all.

Lena and her mother had been busy all week, visiting the women who'd worked side-by-side with Ruth Manning, asking for things that good woman could use in her new home. The generous people of their small town opened their hearts and their attics, donating everything from furniture to doilies, which included, much to Lena's delight, a somewhat battered but still usable, coffee service.

Papa, she said that night, Mama and I have collected some wonderful things for Mrs. Manning. Furniture and such. But we have no way of picking them up and getting them over there.

Yes, Ellen added, "maybe you can organize some of the men to help us. It'd be a shame to do a good deed and then tell the Mannings they have to pick up everything themselves.

Barney allowed himself a rare laugh. Well, mother, I have to tell you that there's a new freight service in town, and I'd be willing to bet the owner will move all donations at a greatly reduced rate.

What's so funny, Papa? Lena asked, glancing over at her mother who was just as dazed as she was.

Our bank has just financed the business. Pretty ambitions young buck. I think he'll go far.

Perhaps you'd be willing to get in touch with this man and ask him?

Of course, my dear, but it will have to be handled very carefully. Mr. Manning is a very proud young man and won't want to take charity.

Manning? Lena exclaimed.

"Yes, daughter. Didn't I mention the name of the business is Manning Haulers?" Barney couldn't help but smile at the shocked expressions of his two favorite women.

I think I'll tell him he'll be doing these people a favor by helping clear out their excess chattels, and instead of a fee, he may keep whatever goods he needs and sell the rest. I think that'll save his pride. He'll want to give his mother first choice and you two lovely ladies might want to be there to help her choose.

Oh, Papa, Lena exclaimed, throwing her arms around him, you are so clever!

Yes, yes, daughter. Calm yourself, now. But inside, he was very pleased that his precious daughter admired him. Only from her would he accept any outward display of affection.

It wasn't until later when Lena was preparing for bed, that the full implication of her father's words struck her. Jack Manning was now more than a grocery boy and a moonshine hauler and a boy from the bad side of town who was always getting into one scrape after another.

He'd moved his mother into a nice house, started a legitimate business, and was poised to join the ranks of the middle-classes. That is if this small town allowed themselves to forget who he was and where he came from.

From that moment, Lena became determined to help Jack overcome the stigma of his origins. For his good mother's sake, of course.

Feeling self-righteous, Lena slid underneath her warm coverlet to slip into dreams peppered with golden tropical suns and exotic emerald mines.

Jack had just finished fixing up his wagon with additional cross-pieces for strength, and was now waiting for the paint to dry. While he waited, he combed and curried the new horse, Young Charlie (okay, so he didn't have a lot of imagination when it came to naming horses) as Old Charlie patiently waited his turn.

Good morning, Jack, Pastor Gilman called. Thought I'd drop by to see how you're coming along.

Well enough, Pastor. It's kind of you to call. Jack thought he might be getting the hang of this good manners thing.

The wagon is looking good. Nice lettering.

Thank you, sir. Painted it up myself.

Good to do things yourself. Saves money, too.

Yes, sir, and that way, I make it my own, Jack grinned.

New horse, too. Coming up in the world, eh, Jack?

I hope so, sir, Jack nodded, his eyes sparkling with confidence, not more than a little of his old cockiness.

Glad to hear it, Jack. You're a good man, the way you take care of your mother and all, and I'm proud to have you as a member of my congregation.

Jack wasn't one for blushing, but now here was another prominent man treating him like he was something and not just old Black Jack Manning's no-good son.

I have a little proposition for you, Jack. It'd be doing the town a favor and might help get your business started.

Favor, sir? Jack asked skeptically. Favor meant no pay. But he trusted the pastor so he'd hear him out.

The church is trying to get a head start on the Christmas jumble sale and we've got pledges of items from quite a few households. What we need is someone to pick them up and bring them over to the church. You know we can't pay you, but we thought you and your mother could pick out the things you need to furnish your new home as payment.

Jack thought it over for a moment. He hated seeing his mother in that sparsely furnished house, not to mention serving coffee on old tin sheets, and if this was a way to fix that without costing him any of his precious savings, then that's what he'd do. Besides, he'd be showing off his newly painted wagon all over town, declaring that Manning Haulers was in business.

I'll do it, Pastor, Jack said, holding out his hand to shake on it.

Pastor Gilman didn't hesitate, but took Jack's hand, beaming his gratitude.

Thank you, Jack. Now you tell your mother to just take whatever she needs. Don't hold back. There'll still be plenty left over for the church.

I will, sir, and thank you.

Jack watched the Pastor walk away, feeling elated that he'd gotten his first job so quickly. No money, of course, but good for getting him seen. Then it occurred to him that there was an unexpected side benefit to this.

The furniture and things might be second-hand, but with a filled-up house and maybe even matching coffee cups, his mother would be able to invite the Garsons and the Gilmans over for coffee again as a thank you. And, of course, Lena would see he was already on the way up the ladder.

With a light heart and a steady hand, Jack began grooming Old Charlie, whistling as he worked.

Jack was surprised to see Lena and her mother standing on his porch when he brought the first load in but he sure was glad to see her.

Mrs. Gilman told me what you're doing for the church and suggested you might need some help deciding, so here we are, Ellen Garson told him.

Thank you, ma'am, we surely do appreciate it, Jack replied, flashing a grin at Lena.

Lena lowered her eyes, her hands folded primly in front of her. It wasn't so long ago that Lena found that grin insulting. Now she knew it meant that all was right with his world