9781631054617HeLovesMeCole
HE LOVES ME,
HE LOVES ME NOT
Christina Cole
Historical Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find a Secret Cravings Publishing e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at publisher@secretcravingspublishing.com
A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Historical Romance
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Copyright © 2015 Christina Cole
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-461-7
First E-book Publication: January 2015
Cover design by Dawné Dominique
Edited by Julie Reilly
Proofread by Shannon Ellis
All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
To my husband, Ken, the love of my life.
“There is no greater glory than love…”
- Lope de Vega -
I’d also like to acknowledge two very special friends and their contributions to the story. Debby Pence, thank you for giving a name to the character of Hattie Mae Richards, and Pamela Reveal, I love the name you came up with for Emily Sue’s horse. Thanks, too, to all the members of the “Lovestory” group of the Internet Writers’ Workshop. Your support and encouragement are appreciated.
The Cravings Ebook Club
The Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club
Have you heard about the newest idea in ebooks, the ebook club? Secret Cravings Publishing has two ebook clubs, The Cravings Ebook Club or the Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club, and we invite you to become a member.
As a new member, you will receive Trouble With a Cowboy* by Sandy Sullivan and Blood Kisses** by H.N. Sieverding FREE, just for joining!
You’ll also receive 4 BRAND-NEW EBOOKS, specially selected by our Editorial Director, every month in a variety of genres for a total price of only $9.99 for all 4. This comes out to barely $2.50 per book, much less than the retail price and you’ll be able to enjoy your books even before they are uploaded to the popular sales sites. One of several privileges of club membership.
*Trouble With a Cowboy, a western, erotic romance:
18 wheels had her heart until one hard-up cowboy found her kickin' up her heels and propositions her to take his bull to Vegas.
Jacie Hawkins drives big wheelers for a livin'. Something not a lot of women do. Littleton Oklahoma is just a dry stopover for a few hours of rest and relaxation at the nearest bar. Jacie needs to find a hot cowboy to release some of her pent up frustrations on for the night, but wannabe's aren't her style.
Tucker Marshall needs a big-rig driver to haul his prize bull to National Finals Rodeo and he needs one fast. Who would have thought he'd find one shootin' pool at the local bar dressed to kill and takin' numbers?
Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?
**Blood Kisses (Nightwalkers 1), paranormal erotic romance:
Ashleigh Brown, the author of the popular Nightwalkers series, lives a quiet life free of the limelight. She keeps her real identity secret by writing under the pen name, Victoria Allure. She soon finds herself in a bind when she's kidnapped by a group of handsome vampires seeking Victoria. She then agrees to meet their Master, who's a huge fan of her books. But instead of meeting him, she accidentally crosses paths with her rock star crush. He is the sexy muse behind Nightwalkers and the man she based the hero in the series upon. She would do anything to meet him but little does she know her crush has a secret...
We will try to match your books to your preferences, however, if you’re a major paranormal fan, we suggest you join the Cravings Paranormal Club. Everything is the same except that three of your four books will be paranormal. The remaining book will be of a different genre.
As a club member, you will also receive:
· our monthly newsletter
· sneak previews of new books
· exclusive interviews with your favorite authors
· special offers not available to the general public
To join, visit the Secret Cravings Publishing website. At the bottom of the page you’ll see a button for the club. You can sign up there and share your preferences for genre, format and heat level with us. You will be charged, automatically, through PayPal, only $9.99 every month. Your books will be shipped within 1 day after PayPal payment has cleared. You may cancel at any time by clicking on the “unsubscribe” button located on the Cravings Club tab at the bottom of our website and keep the FREE BOOKS as our gift.
We hope our Secret Cravings books will delight you each and every month.
Best wishes,
Beth Walker
HE LOVES ME,
HE LOVES ME NOT
The Sunset Series—Book 3
Christina Cole
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
November, 1879
Sunset, Colorado
Nobody flounced better than Emily Sue Phillips. She’d first begun working on her flounce in her pre-adolescent years, and now, at the age of nineteen, she had more than perfected the art. Demonstrating her abilities, she wrapped her cloak around herself with a flourish and pranced across the brick platform of the stage depot. Her long skirts swirled about her ankles, and she lifted her chin a bit higher. Unfortunately, folks around town were busy that morning—too busy to pay her any mind.
For good measure, Emily added in a disdainful shake of her head, knowing how perfectly the strawberry-blonde ringlets peeking out from beneath her bonnet danced around her heart-shaped face. To complete her performance, she threw in a well-practiced look of scorn—along with a rather unladylike snort. All to no avail.
No one noticed. Worse, no one cared that her heart was breaking.
With a sigh born of disappointment, Emily gave up flouncing about, stopped at the edge of the raised platform, and glanced around once more. She’d been waiting—and watching—for nearly an hour, ever since the stage had arrived in Sunset, and she’d eagerly disembarked.
But Benjamin had not come to greet her.
The bitter chill of the frosty November morning quickly seeped
through her woolen cloak. Emily shuddered as a gust of wind rose up, whipping at the edges of her skirt. Dead leaves rustled through the streets. A perfect day for heartbreak, indeed.
She bit back tears and clutched her pocketbook close, refusing to think of the peculiar letter tucked inside. She’d read it, but it had made no sense.
Regardless of anything Benjamin Brooks might have written, she’d still expected him to greet her at the depot. After all, they were sweethearts, and she’d been away for the last three months. He should have been rushing to welcome her home instead of making her stand about alone on a dreary gray morning.
The sound of yet another wagon caught her attention. Hope rising anew in her heart, Emily looked up, but the driver reined in at the mercantile, and a young woman climbed down.
Little point in waiting any longer. Ben wasn’t coming.
Snatching up her weary-looking valise, Emily stepped from the platform. Tears stung her eyes, making it hard to see. Somehow, she lost her footing, and with the heavy suitcase throwing her off-balance, she couldn’t right herself.
Down she went in a heap, landing with her right ankle twisted beneath her. Wincing as she wiggled the foot, she let out a grateful sigh. It hurt, but at least no bones were broken.
From out of nowhere, a rough, swarthy hand reached toward her. “You all right, miss?”
Wiping away her tears, Emily glanced up into the eyes of a huge, hulking stranger. She’d grown up around Sunset, had lived all of her life within shouting distance of the town, and she knew the folks who called it home. She’d never seen this man before. Instinctively, she drew back.
The big fellow didn’t move. He stood over her, his hand outstretched.
Emily guessed him to be close to her age, but it was hard to be certain. He had what Mama called a slow look about him—a low, sloping brow, close-set eyes, a weak chin. Nothing more than a big, dumb brute who’d stumbled into Sunset. A harmless sort.
That’s what Mama always said, but the hard look in this man’s mud-brown eyes said otherwise. Alarm shot through Emily. Her heart pounded.
“I’m fine.” Shaking her head, she struggled to stand. She no sooner got to her feet than she went down again, crying out from the pain.
The giant hovered over her, then, with surprising swiftness, bent down and swept her up into his arms.
“Put me down!” Dropping her valise, Emily clenched her hands into tight fists and beat at the man’s shoulders. Her blows had no effect. Frightened out of her wits, she fought wildly, scratching and clawing, kicking and biting. She couldn’t break free of the man’s grasp as he carried her along the street.
Why wouldn’t someone help her? Was everyone so busy preparing for the holidays that nobody had time to even look her way and see her distress? Apparently so.
Nobody cares what happens to me.
The pitiful thought once more brought tears to her eyes.
“What the hell’s going on?”
A deep, familiar male voice called out, and suddenly Emily felt herself falling as the big man let go of her. She landed on the dirt with a painful thud, confused and disoriented. With great effort, she scrambled again to her feet, careful this time not to put any weight on her twisted ankle.
“Go on! Get away from her.”
Emily nearly swooned at the welcome sight of the man she loved. Ben hadn’t forgotten her, after all. Grateful that he’d come in time to rescue her, she threw herself against him, expecting him to open his arms and enfold her in an embrace.
Instead, he stood rigid, his arms at his side. He stared at the broad-shouldered giant whose hands were now raised in apparent supplication.
“I didn’t hurt nobody,” the big brute said in a surprisingly timid voice. “Only trying to help. That’s all.”
A harmless fellow, indeed. Not the least bit dangerous. Emily bit her lip, unsure whether or not she should speak up, make some sort of apology, or if she should simply remain silent.
And what was going on with Ben?
He didn’t look the least bit pleased to see her.
Puzzled by all of it, Emily reached up to press gloved fingertips to her throbbing temples. For weeks, she’d looked forward to coming home, but returning to Sunset certainly hadn’t brought the expected pleasure.
Ben cleared his throat and nodded toward the bewildered rescuer. “You’ve helped enough,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. He might have been speaking to a child. Obvious concern in his eyes, he turned toward Emily and gave her a quick once-over. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. He frightened me, but he didn’t hurt me.”
Together, they glanced toward the big, dumb oaf, but he’d already turned away from them. They watched as he lumbered down the center of Main Street then disappeared around the next corner.
Out of sight. Out of mind.
Emily had other things to think about.
“I’m so glad you finally got here, Ben.” She reached out to place a hand on his arm, but he stepped away before she could touch him. Startled by the unexpected reaction, Emily drew back.
“I told you not to come home,” he said. “I told you to stay in Denver.”
Shocked and hurt by his rejection, and concerned by his fearsome scowl, Emily had no idea what to say to him. She’d never known Ben to act this way.
An apology rose to her lips, but she snapped her mouth shut and held back the words. Why should she say she was sorry when she’d done nothing wrong? Sucking in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and faced him.
“The school term is over, Ben.” True enough, and for now, that was all he needed to know. She could discuss the rest of her plans with him another time. “The holidays are here. Of course I’m coming home to be with my family.” She sighed, lowered her gaze, and said, “I came home to see you, too, but you no longer seem to care.”
“You got my letter, didn’t you?” He reached out, placed a hand beneath her quivering chin, and raised her face to his. “I wrote to you. I told you I was going to be too busy to spend any time with you.”
Benjamin Brooks had the most fascinating eyes Emily had ever seen. A light brown, almost golden, they reminded her of two amber gem stones. Warmth always seemed to glow from Ben’s eyes.
But Emily saw no warmth this morning. She heard no warmth in his voice. She felt no warmth from his touch.
Shivering, she pulled her gray cloak tighter about her shoulders. “Why did you bother to show up at all?”
His body stiffened at the question. He sucked in a deep breath, drew himself up, and peered down at the girl he’d called his own for the last seven years. As his gaze raked over her, Emily wondered again at the unmistakable changes she saw in him.
“I figured you’d be stubborn enough to come back, even if I didn’t want you here.” Without waiting for a reply, Ben looked around, spotted the dusty valise in the middle of Main Street where Emily had dropped it, and sauntered off to reclaim it. “Get in the wagon,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll drive you home.”
Ben took a few steps, stopped, and then turned to look at Emily again. “Have you really been waiting all this time for me?” For a moment, the familiar warmth returned to his amber eyes. The corners of his mouth briefly turned up as a grin flickered and died.
If only she could toss out a casual, cutting remark and tell him that she most certainly had not been waiting for him. Of course, it would be a flagrant lie. Ben knew how much she adored him, and yes, he knew she’d been waiting at the depot for nearly an hour.
“Never mind,” she said, taking a few halting steps toward him. Her ankle hurt, but she could move about so long as she didn’t put her full weight upon it. “I can make my own way home. That’s what I was about to do when I fell.” Turning her back to Ben, she gathered her long skirts in her hands and raised them a scant few inches, glancing down at her swollen ankle. A sigh slipped out.
“I saw you go down,” he said, “but that big fellow got to you before I could. Sorry, Em.
” Despite her insistence that she could get home on her own, Ben picked up her valise, then jerked his head toward the left. “The wagon’s parked over there by the mercantile. I need to pick up a few things while I’m in town.”
Tears stung Emily’s eyes. Wasn’t he even going to assist her? She began to make her halting way to the wagon, then paused at a touch on her arm.
“Here, I’ll help you to the wagon,” Ben offered, his voice a little softer than before.
“Thank you.” She grabbed hold of him, awed as always by the powerful muscles, the strong, hard feel of his bicep. Benjamin Brooks had grown a lot over the last seven years, maturing from a scrawny freckle-faced boy to a man whose good looks made every woman swoon. Had she not been so sure of his devotion to her, Emily would have died a thousand deaths from jealousy over the years. But Ben had never given her the slightest cause for concern nor the least reason to doubt his constancy.
Until now.
Blinking back her tears, Emily hobbled alongside Ben. Pain shot through her with each step.
Drat! If she went home now, Mama would make a fuss over her twisted ankle. She’d insist on wrapping it tightly and order strict bed rest for the next few days. That would never do. It wouldn’t fit in at all with Emily’s plans.
“I’ve changed my mind.” Her grip tightened on Ben’s forearm. “Instead of taking me to my folks’ house, I need you to take me back to the J Bar K with you. I can stay there with Kat and Josh.” The ranch where Emily had grown up—and where Ben had worked for the last seven years—now belonged to her sister and brother-in-law. They would be only too happy to have her stay with them over the holidays.