Joe's Wife

Joe's Wife
Cheryl St.John

MEMORIES…Tye Hatcher returned to Aspen Grove to find that life in the sleepy Western town hadn't changed much. The townspeople stubbornly refused to see the man he had become. That is, everybody but Meg Telford. Meg definitely took notice of the reticent rancher and gave him a chance in life when no one else would.Still, Meg clung to the memories of her late husband, afraid of the feelings Tye aroused in her heart. And though Tye vowed to prove his worth to the town, could he ever prove to Meg that he was worthy of her love?

“I want you to sleep here tonight,” Meg said. (#u7763abed-6848-5daf-a100-21a9c57ece87)Letter to Reader (#u67af2ba7-b7d8-5401-8cd0-c4d5cc37ede5)Title Page (#uf71fde8e-7d9e-5084-8c8e-a506d05f114c)About the Author (#u5bfba5de-1606-54f1-b379-f0ecc040809a)Dedication (#u7f22382f-62a3-56d1-b71d-21e656f9a846)Chapter One (#u5fe36fc5-01e9-559a-a2bc-5d4f6e3ed292)Chapter Two (#ufa94f236-388b-5b17-bec7-1a1e609f7e4f)Chapter Three (#u6c367b54-ab28-555c-a7d7-27073adb2986)Chapter Four (#u72b232ab-468a-567b-aae5-4ea90161ee90)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“I want you to sleep here tonight,” Meg said.

Tye opened his eyes lethargically.

“Those stairs aren’t too easy to climb, and that floor up there is too hard. You’ll sleep here.”

Her damp fingers touched his lips before he could form a protest. The intimacy startled them both, and she drew her hand away.

Her touch remained on his mouth. She backed away, took the cooled towel from his thigh and gently dried his skin.

And then she touched him. She held a bottle of liniment in one hand, and with the other she worked the greasy salve into his puckered skin without a qualm. His leg absorbed the warmth, and he relaxed even more, once again allowing his eyes to close.

He sensed when she’d left the room, for the heat and the light seemed to leave with her. He experienced the softness of the mattress beneath him, the gentle brush of cool night air from the open window, and wearily tried to recapture the glow of her presence....

Dear Reader,

Entertainment. Escape. Fantasy. These three words describe the heart of Harlequin Historicals. If you want compelling, emotional stories by some of the best writers in the field, look no further.

This month, we are delighted with the return of Cheryl St.John, who is known for her emotional stories set in America’s heartland, all with strong yet tender heroes. Cheryl made her debut with Harlequin Historicals in March of 1994, and has gone on to write five more historicals and three contemporary romances for Silhouette. Joe’s Wife is extra special. Tye Hatcher, the town bad boy, returns from the Civil War to prove his worth. He marries the widow of the once most popular man in town, Joe, and must live up to the memory of him. Keep a hankie close by!

My Lord Protector by first-time author Deborah Hale is an ultraromantic English tale of a young woman who is forced to wed. She marries her tiancé’s uncle, who vows to “protect her” until his nephew returns—but the two fall in love.... Margo Maguire is also making her debut with The Bride of Windermere. In this captivating medieval tale, a rugged knight succumbs to the charm of the woman he has been sent to protect on her journey to see the king.

And don’t miss Silver Hearts, a delightful new Western by Jackie Manning. Here, a doctor turned cowboy rescues an Eastern miss stranded on the trail, and their paths just keep crossing!

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historical

.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell, Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Joe’s Wife

Cheryl St. John

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHERYL ST.JOHN is the pseudonym for Nebraska author Cheryl Ludwigs. Cheryl’s first book, Rain Shadow, received nominations from Romantic Ttmes, Affaire de Coeur and Romance Writers of America’s RITA.

She has been program director and vice president of her Heartland RWA chapter, and is currently a liaison for Published Authors’ Network and a conference committee chairman.

A married mother of five and a grandmother several times over, Cheryl enjoys her family. In her “spare” time, she corresponds with dozens of writer friends from Canada to Texas and treasures their letters. She would love to hear from you.

Send a SASE to:

Cheryl St.John

P.O. Box 12142

Florence Station

Omaha, NE 68112-0142

This bopk is lovingly dedicated to

Erin, Ryan, Zachary, Adam, Jaden, Alexis and Eric,

the most precious grandkids a Bama ever had.

I love you.

Chapter One

Aspen Grove, Colorado, 1865

“I’m tellin’ ya the same thing I told ya last week an’ the week before—there ain’t no job for ya here.” Uncomfortably, Emery Parks glanced past Tye Hatcher as if he wished he’d disappear before any respectable customers discovered the town pariah in his store.

Even though Emery’d had a help wanted sign in his front window since the first time he’d inquired, Tye didn’t argue. It wouldn’t do any good to challenge the mercantile owner. It had been the same everywhere he’d gone in the five months since he’d been back in Aspen Grove.

The only one willing to give him work had been Jed Wheeler, and Tye had taken the position of part-time bartender, part-time piano player with the intention of getting out of the Pair-A-Dice Saloon as soon as he found something else. Roundup was growing near; one of the ranchers would need him, even though they couldn’t afford an extra hand right now. “I’ll take some papers.”

Emery reached behind him and impatiently tossed the packet of cigarette papers on the counter.

Tye plunked down a coin. “Thanks.”

Sometimes he wondered why he’d come back here after the war. He could have ridden anywhere in the country and started his life over where no one knew him, where he didn’t have a past...or a reputation hanging over his head. Sometimes he wondered why he’d chosen instead to return to the town he’d grown up in, the place where he’d never been accepted. His mother was dead now, and there was nothing physical binding him.

More than once he’d lain on his lumpy bed at the boardinghouse and wondered what had drawn him here. Something more than sentiment or lack of? Something less tangible probably. Something like pride.

The bell over the door clanged, and Emery glared at Tye. Tye leaned insolently back against the counter, crossed his ankles and watched three women enter the store and pass through a dusty patch of sunlight streaming in the window. Edwina Telford, hair as steely gray as iron, her stiff black skirts rustling up dust motes, led her two daughters-in-law into the mercantile. Tye had rarely seen Edwina in any color but black. She’d worn it after the death of her parents and after the death of her husband. And now she wore black following the death of her eldest son, Joe.

Joe’s widow, Meg Telford, and her blond sister-in-law, Gwynn, trailed behind the stalwart woman like ducklings on their way to a morning swim.

“Good morning, Mr. Parks,” Edwina called.