Free Wanted: A Family by Janet Dean Page B

throat.
    What would she do then?
    What she would not do is worry. The tightness in her chest eased. If God gave an assignment, he enabled its success. She’d find a way to care for these girls and her precious child.
    Unbidden, the image of Jacob Smith popped into her mind. She forced it away. Nothing good would come from her attraction to that man.
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    After securing the last board on the porch, Jake stowed the tools, his work done for the day. The idea of examining those newspapers and scrapbooks for information about his birth crept into his thoughts. If he asked to see them, Mrs. Mitchell would want an explanation. An explanation he couldn’t give.
    The temptation to enter her house uninvited lurchedin his stomach. Unlocked or not, such an action would be deceitful. Time in jail didn’t mean he’d lost his standards. Perhaps she’d give him an opportunity. But for now he’d visit the café, talk to that chatty waitress and see what he could learn. Nothing to stop him now that he’d finished the porch.
    Not so long ago he’d lived behind bars, confined to a space the size of the lean-to. Now he could move about the Mitchell property, the town of Peaceful, why, the State of Indiana, even the whole country if he got the itch to roam. Grinning, he gave a whoop, then headed out.
    On Liberty, he entered the Corner Café, a nondescript colorless place, but spotless as a shiny penny. All eyes turned to him, the stranger in town. Some filled with curiosity. Most appeared welcoming. Not the reaction he’d come to expect. He removed his hat and gave a friendly nod.
    Small-town scrutiny was a far cry from what he’d experienced in prison. The warden, guards, convicts serving time appraised each new inmate. All formed judgments, putting a man into one of two slots—troublemaker or target. Troublemakers got respect. Targets got contempt. That first day, Jake learned he’d have to wear a tough-guy persona to survive.
    Better remember that welcoming smiles didn’t mean these folks wouldn’t probe into his past. A past he wanted to forget. But couldn’t. No, shouldn’t. That past taught him a valuable lesson. Never trust anyone. Even those he felt close to.
    Especially those he felt close to.
    â€œHiya, handsome.” The waitress, a crisp apron tied around her waist, approached the counter. “
    â€œHi, Jessie.”
    A dazzling smile lit her pixie face. “A gal likes to be remembered. What can I get ya?”
    He laid his hat on the stool beside him. “Coffee, black.”
    She grabbed a cup with one hand, the pot with the other and poured mid air, never spilling a drop. “Heard you’re working at Callie’s.”
    â€œWord travels fast.” Jake took a sip, strong and hot. Not as pungent as Mrs. Mitchell’s, but good. “Thanks for the suggestion.”
    â€œPlenty wrong with that old mansion to keep a man busy for months.” She poured a cup for herself then sidled closer. “I hope this means you’re staying.”
    â€œMy plans are indefinite.”
    She chortled. “Isn’t that always the way with you good-looking types?”
    Jessie’s interest was obvious, even to him, a man who avoided connections. She was cute, but lacked the gentle refinement of Mrs. Mitchell.
    Why was he thinking about either of them? He had no intention of getting entangled with anyone. No right to consider it, especially with the attractive young widow. He had no idea about what made a family. No idea how to create one. Even if he trusted a woman enough to consider settling down.
    Conversation resumed in the café, permitting Jake to pursue his objective. “You get lots of people passing through?”
    â€œNo such luck. Life would be more exciting if we did.” She leaned a hip against the counter. “You’re the first stranger to come into town in ages.”
    â€œHave you lived here