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  The boys all wore their new school clothes—store-bought pants and suspenders, and hand-sewn shirts that Miriam had made herself in the evenings since they’d arrived in their home. Several women from the community, including Natasha Zook, came over to sew with her to get the boys ready for school that fall. And they each had four fresh new shirts, and three pairs of pants to last them the winter. If they didn’t get torn... Boys tended to wear out clothes before they outgrew them—at least, that was the advice she’d received from Fannie Mast. And Fannie would know.

  The last few months Miriam had been feeding her new sons food they loved, food they’d never tried before, and discovering their favorites. Babies bonded with milk, but big boys like these needed shoofly pie and fried chicken. A mamm fed her boys—and she’d been reveling in this new role of wife and mother.

  Outside, Amos had just hitched the buggy, and the horses shifted their hooves impatiently. Miriam glanced out the window at Amos, who was leaning forward, waiting for them.

  “Are you ready for your first day at school?” Miriam asked brightly.

  “We don’t know Dutch,” Jack, who was twelve, said nervously. He’d been mentioning the same thing over and over for weeks. It was his personal worry.

  “That’s okay,” Miriam said for the hundredth time, it felt like. “The teacher understands. You’ll be fine. And you’ll meet some other kinner your age—” She paused, winced. “Kids your age,” she amended. “And you’ll be back home before you know it. I’ll make sure there are some warm cookies, if that helps.”

  “Okay.” Jack smiled faintly. He still looked nervous.

  Vince was ten, and he peeked into his cloth lunch bag, rooting around. Michael nudged him.

  “Wait until lunch, Vince,” he said.

  “I was only looking...” And Vince glanced up at Miriam with a small smile. They all knew Miriam well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t get upset over them eating. If anything, Miriam took great joy in feeding these growing boys. Her boys. Her heart flooded with love just looking at them.

  “All right,” Miriam said. “Off you go. Daet is waiting. Have a good day.”

  The boys seemed okay with Dutch names for mom and dad, because they were different enough not to overlap with their memories of their birth parents. But just sending them off today...it didn’t feel quite right.

  Michael opened the front door, but before he could push open the screen, Miriam said, “Boys!”

  They turned, and her heart sped up. She wasn’t used to making speeches, but before they went out the door to school for the first time, she felt like she needed to say something important.

  “Boys, I want you to remember something,” Miriam said earnestly. “I love you all. I know this is different and new, and I know we’ll all stumble a little while we figure out how to be a family, but one thing you’ll learn about me is that I’m very stubborn. I might drive you a little crazy with it sometimes, but the good part about me is that nothing you do will ever shake my love for you. Ever. I’m just too stubborn to change my mind once it’s set, and I love you. Do you understand? I’m your mamm now, and I will love you until the end of time. That’s how this works.”

  It hadn’t been quite what she wanted to say, but it would do.

  Colby, who was the youngest at nine years old, came back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. She put a hand on the top of his hat on his head, and then he headed back to the door as quickly as he’d hugged her.

  “Bye, Mamm,” Colby said. “See you after school.”

  Michael shot her a shy smile, then opened the screen, and the boys all tramped outside toward the buggy where Amos waited.

  This was it—their first day of school. And they were plenty old enough to handle it just fine, so why was she feeling this strange flutter of anxiety at the thought of it? Maybe this was just part of being a mamm.

  Amos smiled over their heads at her. He’d drive the boys to school for the first day, and they’d walk home. It wasn’t far, but the first day seemed like an important day to get a ride with their new daet.

  Amos’s smile warmed his eyes and made her cheeks grow warm in response.

  “Have a good day at work, Amos!” she called.

  “Yah.” He blew her a kiss. “You’re coming by the shop later, right?”

  “I’ll be there!”

  Then Amos flicked the reins and they were off.

  Miriam watched the buggy head down the drive, and when she went back inside to the kitchen, the screen door bounced shut behind her before she closed the door. The house was silent, except for the ticking of the kitchen clock. But she wouldn’t be lonely or bored on her own today. She had dishes to do, breakfast to clean up and a stack of ledgers waiting for her attention on the counter. And next to the ledgers sat that beautifully carved box that her husband had spent a decade finishing for her. She was using it for her recipe cards because she liked looking at it every day. It reminded her of how much her husband loved her, and that reminder was just as sweet today as it was the day she’d come back home.

  Miriam stood in the kitchen in absolute silence, her heart soring upward with a silent prayer of thanks. Gott had given Miriam the deepest desires of her heart that she’d been too afraid to even ask for. She had her husband, who she loved deeply; she had four sons to call her own, two businesses to grow with the man she loved and a beautiful array of days spreading out in front of her to fill...

  She was finally home.

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader:

  We don’t all fit into an easy spot, do we? As a romance author, I find it hard to describe myself to new acquaintances. People don’t know how to react to “I write books.” When I wrote this story, I identified with Miriam a lot. She’s strong, smart and just different enough that no one quite understands her.

  I truly believe that there aren’t any “mistakes” born on this planet. We were given our talents and our personalities for a purpose, and I also believe that God provides us companions for the journey.

  So, hang in there, even if you’re a little different, like I am. If you’d like to connect, come find me on Facebook, or on my website at patriciajohnsromance.com. I’d love to hear from you!

  Patricia

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

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  ISBN-13: 9781488071133

  Wife on His Doorstep

  Copyright © 2021 by Patricia Johns

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by ar
rangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].

  Love Inspired

  22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor

  Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada

  www.Harlequin.com

  Everyone had their secrets but this one changed everything.

  He shook his head as he studied the photo. Numbness took over and his heart constricted.

  “What are you doing in here?” Avery’s voice from the door shook him loose and he looked up, meeting her gaze, seeing her fear.

  He didn’t know what to say to her. Even if he had the words, he didn’t know if he could speak.

  “Give me the picture.” She reached to take it from him.

  He pulled back, keeping the frame from her grasp. Her eyes widened as she realized he knew the truth.

  “Please, Grayson,” she said with a trembling voice. “Please give me the picture.”

  “Give me my daughter,” he countered.

  “She isn’t…”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head and he held on to the photo. A photo of Avery and a little girl. A little girl with dark eyes and dark hair, the light catching flecks of auburn. A little girl with his dimples.

  Brenda Minton lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and is sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.

  Books by Brenda Minton

  Love Inspired

  Her Small Town Secret

  Mercy Ranch

  Reunited with the Rancher

  The Rancher’s Christmas Match

  Her Oklahoma Rancher

  The Rancher’s Holiday Hope

  The Prodigal Cowboy

  The Rancher’s Holiday Arrangement

  Bluebonnet Springs

  Second Chance Rancher

  The Rancher’s Christmas Bride

  The Rancher’s Secret Child

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Her Small Town Secret

  Brenda Minton

  It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

  —Lamentations 3:22–23

  This book is dedicated to the friends and family who have kept me going through the writing process. Thank you for the prayers, the support and the time.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  CHAPTER ONE

  The door to room 204 in the Pleasant Residential Care center squeaked open. Avery Hammons glanced that way but didn’t greet the visitor. She finished taking the vitals of her patient, then gave the redhead at the door a questioning look.

  “There’s an incredibly gorgeous cowboy waiting for you at the front lobby. He might be all hat and no cattle, but I’d take him if I wasn’t happily engaged.” Assistant to the administrator of Pleasant Residential Care, Laura Anderson, winked.

  “Gorgeous cowboy type?” Avery asked after settling her patient’s arm back on her bed. She smiled down at the woman, hoping to reassure her. “Margie, your pulse is strong and your blood pressure is better than that of most twenty-year-olds. In another month you’ll be back to walking Dudley in the park.”

  Margie Duncan drooped a little, her mouth pulling down in a slight frown. That look had become one of her few signs of discontentment. She’d been a model patient in the four weeks she’d been at the facility, recovering from a fractured hip. “I’m so sorry for making a fuss. I just felt a little funny when I got up a bit ago. You’re probably right about being anxious. And I can’t wait to get home to that silly dog.”

  The same silly dog who had wrapped a leash around Margie and tripped her as she went down the front steps of her house a month ago. Avery smiled past the worry she felt for her patient. As a supervising RN, worry was a big part of her job.

  “You don’t have to apologize, Margie. That’s what I’m here for. Also, you could have your daughter bring Dudley in for a visit. I won’t tell.”

  “Could I really?” Margie’s face lit up at the mention of her poodle.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  From the door, Laura cleared her throat. “About the visitor...”

  The last thing Avery wanted was a visitor. Especially a male visitor. The only man she could think of was Tucker Church. They’d been on a few dates, nothing serious. She doubted he would visit her at work, especially since she’d made it clear they were just friends and would remain friends. Avery doubted she would ever be at a place in her life where she let someone be more than a friend. It seemed trite to say but she was content with her life as it was. She had a job she loved, people in her life whom she loved and she was building the home she’d always dreamed of. Why complicate things?

  Fortunately, Tucker, as a friend, knew her and her past. He knew her heartaches and her secrets. That made it easy to explain to him why she wasn’t keen on new relationships.

  “You’d best get out there to your visitor,” Margie encouraged.

  Avery winked at the older woman. “Guess I have to go see who this amazing visitor is and what they need with me. What does it mean, all hat and no cattle?”

  Margie laughed at that. “That means he looks like he might be a cowboy but he’s probably never seen a cow in his life. I bet he has a pair of shiny boots that ain’t ever kicked up the dirt, and a hat that sits on top of his head like a city feller.”

  “Gotcha.” She turned to Laura. “Do we know why our cattle-less visitor is here?”

  Laura smirked a bit. “Community service. He said the law grabbed him on his way into town and gave him an ultimatum. Jail or community service that he failed to serve eleven years ago.”

  “Eleven years ago?”

  “Yeah, I guess they aren’t aware of the statute of limitations. Nevertheless, he said he’s here to work off his service and Mr. Davis told him to see you, that you would oversee his time. Forty hours, just ten hours a week.”

  “Wonderful, just what I need. I don’t have time to babysit a city feller who broke the law nearly a dozen years ago.”

  “Avery Hammons, please come to the front desk. Avery, please come to the front desk.” A male voice, not one of their staff, called over the intercom.

  “Who was that?” Avery asked, leaving Margie’s room, Laura hot on her heels.

  “My guess is that would be our man, Mr. All Hat. Can we keep him? Please tell me we can keep him.” Laura practically gushed and she wasn’t typically the gushing type.

  Avery hurried down the hall of the west wing of the facility, turning a corner and then stopping so quickly, Laura nearly ran into her. “Oh no!”

  The cowboy leaned against the counter, the intercom phone in his hand. One corner of his mouth hitched up as he nudged his hat back a smidge. “Honey, I’m home.”

  No, no, no. Avery stood there in the center of the hall, caught in a nightmare in which Grayson Stone was the star. He was th
e one person who could—and would—shake up her life and ruin everything. It was what he’d always done. What he did best. He knew how to make her feel beautiful and worthless, all at the same time.

  She shook her head, wanting, needing to wake up and have him gone. She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer and opened her eyes slowly.

  “I’m still here,” he drawled with a slight chuckle as he set the phone on the desk and straightened.

  Yes, he was still there. All six feet, lean athletic build of him. He grinned, as if this was all a big joke and he wasn’t pushing her life off its foundation. Life had always been a joke to Grayson. The spoiled son of a judge and a pediatrician, he’d always been given everything he ever wanted or needed. He was her exact opposite. She’d been serious, studious, determined to change her future. She had wanted to prove that a kid from Dillon’s Trailer Park could become something, someone.

  Grayson was her kryptonite.

  Eleven years. Had he thought of her even once in all that time? Going by the lack of phone calls, return visits to Pleasant, or even a card, she guessed he hadn’t given her a single, solitary thought. He hadn’t thought about Pleasant, about her, about that summer.

  She had thought about him. Every. Single. Day. And not always pleasant thoughts.

  Since her return to town six months ago, she had been working on her relationship with God, seeking a closer walk. But this made her question everything. Why now? Why did Grayson have to show up here just when she finally had her life on track? She had a plan. She had a path forward.

  “Ah, now, come on, Avery, that isn’t the greeting I expected from you.”

  She stared at him, unable to speak. Grayson Stone always managed to jerk the rug out from under her. He had a way of turning her inside out. He’d been doing it for as long as she could remember. Probably since kindergarten, when he’d given her a daisy and then tossed a spider on her as she bent her head to smell the flower.