Second Chance Hero. Winnie Griggs

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Second Chance Hero - Winnie  Griggs


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Abigail’s library. Just let me know what sorts of books appeal to you.”

      “I’ve read Shakespeare and Dickens. Perhaps I’ll try Twain. And I believe I will take a look at the Gazette.”

      Apparently he was well educated. Now that she thought on it, there was a certain refinement that crept into his speech from time to time. It embarrassed her that she’d made so many wrong assumptions about this man. She should know better than to jump to judgments.

      “I’ll fetch the book and newspaper for you as soon as I put away these dishes. Can I do anything else for you?”

      After his No, thank you response, Verity made her exit and slowly headed toward the parlor, where most of the family’s books were located. Her thoughts, though, were on Mr. Cooper rather than her errand.

      There was still a faint air of something less than welcoming simmering below the surface in this man, a feeling of standoffishness. But for some reason it didn’t scare her away—in fact it had just the opposite effect. She was beginning to see him as a brave, honorable, well-educated person who just needed someone to teach him to trust enough to open up.

      If he had a wilder side to him, well, he seemed to have it well controlled. And that was a sign of maturity and responsibility, wasn’t it?

      * * *

      The sound of a tap at the door pulled Nate from his reading. One thing he could say for this place, they respected a person’s privacy. Which, after his time in prison, was another thing he’d never take for granted again.

      He sat up straighter. “Come in.”

      Mrs. Leggett stuck her head in the doorway. “You have a visitor, but if you’d prefer to rest I can ask him to come back at another time.”

      There was only one person here in Turnabout who would be visiting him. “Not at all. Show him in.”

      She gave him an assessing look, as if gauging his condition, then nodded and withdrew.

      Sure enough, Adam Barr strolled through the open door a few minutes later.

      “Hope I’m not disturbing you,” his friend said, “but Dr. Pratt said you’re up for visitors.”

      Nate waved Adam to a chair near the bed. “Actually, other than being a bit banged up, I’m fine. I’d be back home if it was up to me, but Dr. Pratt practically strong-armed me into staying.”

      “He cares about his patients,” Adam said. Then he grinned. “Are the ladies of the house smothering you with kindness?”

      Smothering wasn’t exactly the word he’d use, but he let it stand. “It’s a definite change from what I’ve been used to.”

      “A little female attention is never a bad thing.” Then Adam leaned back. “I hear you’ve become something of a town hero as of this morning.”

      Nate grimaced. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. You and I both know there’s nothing heroic about me.”

      Adam frowned. “I know nothing of the sort. In fact, I have good reason to believe otherwise.” He stroked the faded scar on his cheek, a reminder to both of them of how they’d met—in a prison fight.

      When Adam had entered prison all those years ago, Nate had already been there six months. That first day, a couple of the more hardened inmates had cornered the new arrival as he exited the food line and Nate had weighed in to even the odds. The two had been friends ever since.

      “That was just me looking for a fight—nothing more.”

      “That’s not how I saw it.” Adam crossed his arms and gave Nate a drawn-brow look. “Besides, I spent time in prison, too. Do you think that makes me less capable of acting heroically?”

      Nate gave a sharp, dismissive wave. “You didn’t belong there. I did.”

      That was one reason, besides his own selfish desire to be free of his past mistakes, that he couldn’t reveal to the townsfolk that he’d spent time in prison. Because, since folks knew that he and Adam were already acquainted, any confession on his part might cause speculation about Adam’s own past.

      “You had your reasons for what you did.” Adam shrugged. “But be that as it may, you served your time, so your debt is paid. And everyone deserves a second chance.”

      He had come to Turnabout looking for a fresh start, a place to begin again without the anchor of his past to weigh him down. Knowing that his friend believed in him allowed him to have faith that he might be able to pull it off.

      He just wished he felt as if he deserved this second chance. He knew the Good Lord had forgiven him long ago, but he was still having trouble forgiving himself.

      Then Adam changed the subject. “So how long do you plan to lie around here lollygagging?”

      “Assuming Dr. Pratt doesn’t tie me to my bed, I’m heading back to my place in the morning.”

      “Well, I wouldn’t be in too big a hurry. I hear Mrs. Pratt is quite a cook.”

      “You’ve heard correctly. I’ve already sampled her chicken and dumplings and it has my own cooking beat by a mile.” Then he turned serious. “Which reminds me, would you mind letting Mrs. Ortolon know I may not be able to help her at the boardinghouse for the next several days?” He touched the bandage on his arm. “I definitely won’t be swinging an ax anytime soon.” He’d been doing odd jobs at the boardinghouse in the evenings for meals and pocket change to help him get by until his business was better established.

      “I’m sure she already knows, but I’ll stop by when I leave here.”

      “Thanks.” Nate brushed at a bit of lint on his coverlet. “Mrs. Leggett—she’s a widow, I take it.”

      “She is. Her husband died a little over a year ago. She and Joy moved back here shortly after it happened.”

      Some time had passed, then. Of course, he knew from his own experience that one never totally “got over” the death of a loved one. “So she wasn’t living here when he passed away.” He hoped she’d had friends, people she could lean on, around her.

      Adam shook his head then shifted in his seat. “There’s something you should probably know if you’re going to be around Mrs. Leggett much—her husband’s passing wasn’t peaceful. He died of a gunshot.”

      Nate froze for a moment as that sunk in. That must have been horrific for her. Had she witnessed it? Had Joy?

      Then Adam cleared his throat and gave him a look that had a touch of sympathy in it. “It happened during a bank robbery.”

      Nate dropped back against his pillow as all the implications of that news thundered down around him like a rockslide.

      After Adam had gone, Nate retrieved his book, but he didn’t open it immediately.

      Adam’s revelation changed everything. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t trespass on this family’s hospitality any longer than he already had, couldn’t bear to have Mrs. Leggett look at him with that admiration and gratitude, not knowing what he now knew.

      Injured ankle or no, he’d make it back to his place. He just wished he’d thought to ask Adam to bring a wagon around to transport him.

      Deciding to test his mobility, Nate threw off the bedcovers and stood, putting all his weight on his good leg.

      Before he could try taking a step, there was another tap at the door. He clenched his jaw and sat back down on the bed, but left both feet on the floor. It might not be Mrs. Leggett. It could be Dr. Pratt or even Adam, returning to say something he’d forgotten earlier. “Come in.”

      But, of course, it was Mrs. Leggett. She


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