Free Heart of the Lonely Exile by BJ Hoff Page A

gripped the dry, gnarled hand of Cletus Denvers, intoxicated as usual. Putting a hand to the man’s shoulder, he said, “It’s good to see you here, Cletus. You’ll come back again next Sunday, I hope?”
    Kerry looked up at him. “Sara’s not all that clever at disguising her feelings, is she?”
    Jess shook his head, both in answer to her question and as a greeting to a young woman who refused to meet his eye. Her face was garishly painted, her hair frizzed, but he had noticed her among the crowd on more than one occasion. “Good to have you. Please come again,” he said warmly, shaking her hand. She hurried from the tent, still avoiding his gaze.
    Kerry’s eyes softened as she watched the woman scurry outside the tent. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Do you suppose the sergeant is aware of Sara’s…interest?”
    â€œNot likely,” answered Jess with a tired sigh as his gaze took in several worshipers still milling about the tent. “I believe the sergeant is too busy dealing with his own feelings to notice Sara’s.”
    â€œOh, d’you think so, Jess?”
    He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice.
    â€œI recognize the signs,” he said, solemnly, “having been badly smitten myself a few years back.”
    Her sharp little chin snapped up. “You make it sound somewhat like hydrophobia.”
    He pretended to consider her retort. “It does carry some of the same symptoms, I suppose.”
    â€œAnd am I to assume from that remark, then, that you are no longer smitten, Mr. Dalton?”
    He grinned at her. “Not at all, Mrs. Dalton. Just like hydrophobia, my condition has no known cure.”
    She attempted a severe frown, reminding him, “We were discussing Sergeant Burke and Sara Farmington.”
    â€œYou were discussing Sergeant Burke and Sara Farmington. I was counting the shamrocks in your eyes.”
    â€œYou are daft.”
    â€œAnd it’s entirely your doing.”
    â€œWe should be getting home,” she said, ignoring the squeeze he gave her hand. “Where has our son taken himself off to, d’you suppose?”
    â€œIf he’s true to form, we’ll find him at the chestnut stand on Mulberry by now.”
    â€œJess,” Kerry said thoughtfully, “that limp of Sara Farmington’s—do you know how she came by it?”
    Jess nodded. “Her father told me. She was born with one hip out of alignment. The doctors could do nothing to correct the problem.”
    â€œAnother condition with no known cure?”
    â€œApparently,” he responded. “But I must say, the condition doesn’t seem to slow Miss Farmington down very much.”
    â€œI’ve noticed,” Kerry mused. “And it certainly doesn’t seem to affect Michael Burke in the least, either.”
    Dalton looked down at his wife with an affectionate grin and raised one eyebrow.
    â€œJess, I’m wondering—” She stopped, but he heard the slight rolling brogue in her voice that invariably meant she was plotting something.
    He cocked his head and waited, intrigued by a stray copper curl that had escaped the confines of her bonnet.
    â€œD’you truly think Sergeant Burke might be interested in Sara?” Without waiting for his reply, she hurried on. “I have an idea—why don’t we invite the two of them to go home with us for dessert? There’s at least half of Molly’s chocolate cake left over—plenty for all of us. Sara will be riding back with us anyway, and you know how I do enjoy her company… and you admire Sergeant Burke, you’ve said so yourself…it would be an opportunity to spend some time with the two of them, as well as giving them an opportunity to be together…”
    When she finally stopped, Jess said only, “Mightn’t that be awkward?”
    Kerry’s mouth drew to an impatient pout, which he never