Free Finally a Bride by Vickie Mcdonough Page A

name?”
    Jack’s cheeks actually pinked up. “Luke’s been my stepfather for ten years now, but he’s the only father I’ve ever cared for. I guess I sometimes call him Luke because that’s how I referred to him before he married my ma.”
    Noah leaned back, his hands holding on to the arms of the chair. He knew that, but she didn’t know he did. Maybe he could get some answers to his own questions. “So, I’m guessing that you didn’t care much for your real father.”
    Jack’s eyes flashed, and he recognized the spunk that had often gotten her in trouble in past years. She lifted her nose in the air. “I hardly see what that has to do with anything.”
    He offered her a placating smile. “We are who we are because of our past, Miss Ha—uh … Davis.” Sweat beaded on Noah’s forehead at his near-miss. He’d almost called her Miss Hamilton—the name he’d known her by previously. He’d have to watch himself and be extra careful around her.
    Jack’s narrowed gaze pierced him, but he forced himself to sit still and return her stare. The marshal strode back into the room, paper in hand. “Here you go.”
    Jack took the items without breaking Noah’s gaze. His heart thumped harder. The marshal glanced from her to Noah and back. He scratched his hand, then rested his thumbs in his waistband. “You want me to stay, Half Bit?”
    Finally she looked up at her stepfather and offered a cordial smile. “No, thank you. That’s not necessary—that is, unless the parson is afraid to be alone with me.” She wielded her smile like a weapon.
    A bead of sweat trickled down Noah’s spine, but he forced himself not to move. He was not without the means of affecting an unabashed female when the occasion warranted. He planted a smile on his face—his best feature next to his dark eyes, so he’d been told—and when the marshal glanced at Jack again, Noah winked at her.
    Her mouth opened wide, and the marshal spun back toward him, obviously wondering what he’d missed. Noah resisted chuckling and affected a straight face then rubbed his eye. “Your daughter is safe with me, I promise, Marshal.”
    The man stared at him for a long moment then gave a quick nod and spun on his heel, leaving the room.
    Jack leaned forward, her lids lowered halfway, her blue eyes cold as ice. “Are you in the habit of winking at single females, Reverend?” Her snide tone left no doubt that she’d taken offense.
    “I beg your pardon.” He rubbed his eye again, and she blinked. Confusion wrinkled her brow, and she stared at her blank paper.
    “Um … never mind. I must have misconstrued your actions.” She scribbled something on the paper. “So tell me, Reverend, where do you hail from?”
    “Emporia, like I said at the table.”
    “And have you always lived there?”
    He swallowed hard and stared at the top of her head while she wrote some more. Too soon she glanced up and lifted her brows. His heart flip-flopped at her direct perusal. “Uh … no, not always.”
    “Where else have you lived?”
    He straightened, knowing he’d have to divert her train of thought if he was going to stay truthful—and he fully intended to as much as possible. “I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”
    Her mouth quirked to one side in an enticing manner, and he focused on the bottom of her bare foot, which faced him where it lay on the chair. How could her feet be so small?
    “Where did you receive your ministerial training?”
    “From the man who took me in after my father died. His name is Pete Jeffers.”
    Her gaze darted up from her notes. “You changed your last name?”
    He nodded.
    “Isn’t that a bit drastic? I mean, was your original last name so awful you couldn’t abide it?”
    He lifted his brow at her question and turned the cards on her. They were more alike than she realized. “Was your original surname so awful you couldn’t abide it?”
    “What?” Her expression blanked out, and he knew the moment she