Love's First Bloom (Hearts Along the River Book #2)

Delia Parr

Description

Ruth Livingstone's life changes drastically the day her father puts a young child in her arms and sends her to a small village in New Jersey under an assumed name. There Ruth pretends to be a widow and quietly secludes herself until her father is acquitted of a crime. But with the emergence of the penny press, the imagination of the reading public is stirred, and her father's trial stands center stage. Asher Tripp is the brash newspaperman who determines that this case is the event he can use to redeem himself as a journalist. Ruth finds solace tending a garden along the banks of the Toms River--a place where she can find a measure of peace in the midst of the sorrow that continues to build. It is also here that Asher Tripp finds a temporary residence, all in an attempt to discover if the lovely creature known as Widow Malloy is truly Ruth Livingstone, the woman every newspaper has been looking for. Love begins to slowly bloom...but is the affection they share strong enough to withstand the secrets that separate them?

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441213747
• Langue: English

Extrait

Love s First Bloom Copyright 2010 Mary Lechleidner
Cover design by John Hamilton Design
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Parr, Delia.
Love s first bloom / Delia Parr.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-7642-0671-9 (pbk.)
1. Clergy-Fiction. 2. Trials (Murder)-Fiction. 3. Children of clergy- Fiction. 4. Journalists-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3566.A7527L68 2010
813 .54-dc22
2010014684
Dedicated to The Shell Point Girls
on
Anna Maria Island, Florida, who welcomed me into their homes and now have a special place in my heart.
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
The Seashell
More Heartwarming Romance from Delia Parr
One

March 1838 New York City
Ruth Livingstone had very little time left to change her father s mind.
After a hasty ride through dark, deserted streets, she parted the curtains on the coach window while waiting for Capt. Grant to arrive. Moonlight rested on the Sheller , a packet ship that was lying at anchor in the harbor. She blinked back tears. Unless Ruth could sway her father s decision, the morning tide would carry her far from home, along with Lily, the sleeping toddler now nestled against her father s chest.
She dropped the curtain and swiped at her tears. Even though he had rejected every one of her arguments since rousing her from bed two hours ago and telling her she had to leave, she prayed she still might get him to agree to let her stay home with him.
Please, Father, she whispered. When Capt. Grant gets here, tell him your plans have changed so you can take another day or two to find someone else.
Seated directly across from her, Rev. Gersham Livingstone cradled the sleeping child and shook his head. I don t have another day or two, Ruth.
But I don t understand why I must go when you have so many supporters who would be better suited-
You re the only one I can trust to take Lily away and keep her safe, he insisted, keeping his voice low.
But what if Capt. Grant questions me? What am I supposed to say if he sees that I m not this this Widow Ruth Malloy that he expects?
I told you. Capt. Grant never meets any of the women he helps me to relocate before sailing. At least you get to keep your given name, he added.
Frustrated, Ruth found it hard to be grateful for keeping her first name when she was giving up so much else. What about the Garners? Surely they ll suspect that I m not-
Elias and Phanaby Garner will accept you without question when you arrive. In turn, they ll introduce you to the community as a distant relative whose period of mourning is over and is in need of a home. I explained all this to you on the way here, he gently chided.
Dropping her gaze, she swallowed hard. According to her father, the Garners did not know that the real name of the woman they were expecting had been Rosalie Peale, the wellknown prostitute found murdered some days ago. Or that the child in the reverend s arms was in fact Rosalie Peale s secret daughter.
The very idea they would think Ruth was a former prostitute Oh, it both shamed and humiliated her as a woman of faith. Being the daughter of a controversial minister who devoted his life to the fallen angels of the city had never been easy, but Ruth found it terribly ironic that the only way she could support him now was to become one of his reclaimed fallen angels herself.
Desperate to change his mind, Ruth tried another tack, keeping her voice to a whisper to keep from waking the little girl. The constable can t seriously think you could have killed Rosalie Peale, she argued, unable to fathom that anyone would consider him capable of murder.
Indeed he shouldn t, but the press has fueled public clamor for an arrest that should have been made days ago.
She snorted. The reporters who ve surrounded our house from dawn to dusk for the past two days are even worse than the scoundrels you allowed inside to interview you. Have they no sense of decency?
Decency doesn t sell newspapers, he replied. Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. Instead of being angry about a situation we can t control, we should be grateful that my lawyer was able to persuade the constable to give me time to put my affairs in order before arresting me.
She placed her hand on top of her father s and blinked back more tears. But you re innocent! It isn t fair!
It s not fair for Lily to bear the stain of her mother s sins, either, but she will-unless we can get her out of the city before anyone finds out about her, especially one of those reporters. Unfortunately, Rev. Livingstone added wistfully, many people, even people we know well, actually believe everything they read in the newspapers. They don t need to wait for a trial to convict me.
Ruth s heartbeat slowed to a thud that pounded against the wall of her chest. She tried not to think of their several neighbors who had closed their hearts, as well as their doors, to both her and her father in recent days. Even Harrison Steward, her father s closest friend, had abandoned him, refusing any contact.
For several long moments she allowed herself a time of self-pity, until she realized her father would pay a far greater price, even beyond losing the affection of their neighbors or even his dearest friend.
He would pay with his very life.
Her father edged forward in his seat to get closer to her. The path God chooses for each of us to follow isn t always an easy one, but we all have to decide whether or not we re willing to trust in His wisdom and embrace His will. I can t risk letting the glare of scandal that s already churning in the press to shine upon this innocent child. Can you? He gently urged the sleeping child into Ruth s arms.
Ruth awkwardly cradled the little girl close for fear she would wake up. No, I-I can t. I ll go. I ll take care of her, she whispered, then tensed when she heard two soft raps on the coach door.
Her father answered by parting the curtain only long enough to nod and drop the curtain back into place before cupping her cheek. It s time to go now, Ruth. With God s grace, I ll be exonerated quickly. Then I ll send for you, and we ll make more permanent arrangements for Lily. Until then, God will take care of you both. Trust in Him.
Ruth managed half a smile. As more tears slipped free, she kissed the palm of her father s hand, pressing the memory of this moment deep within her heart. When he turned her hand over and kissed its back, she felt his tears, too.
Quietly, without saying another word, he disembarked. Ruth gathered her courage. Once she stepped out of this coach, she would have to swallow her pride and silently bear the mantle of a sinful past she had not lived.
Two

Toms River, New Jersey
Please don t throw your food, Lily, Ruth cautioned for the third time, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out in frustration. As she wiped a glob of soggy bread from her own forehead with the tip of her apron, she laid her other hand atop the toddler s hands to keep them still.
Three weeks ago when she first arrived here, Ruth knew her faith would be tested while she waited anxiously for her father s innocence to be recognized in a court of law.
Hiding the truth of her real identity, and allowing the middle-aged couple who had opened their home to her to believe she was a former prostitute, had been just as hard as she had expected it would be.
She d had no idea, however, that her greatest challenge would come from twenty-two pounds of pure mischief disguised as the eighteen-month-old toddler sitting directly in front of her. With bright blue eyes and a mop of unruly blond ringlets, the slender toddler was a pretty, delicate little girl who had a mind of her own, a will to match, and one favorite word: no .
With her eyes dancing, Lily tugged her hands free and smeared bread soggy with gravy all over her face and through her curls.
Mercy! Ruth cried. You need another bath for certain now.
Giggling, little Lily clapped her hands, sending drops of gravy in all directions. Bath! Me. Bath!
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth caught a glimpse of the smile on Phanaby Garner s face and heard the woman catch a giggle of her own before turning back to stir the pot of fish chowder bubbling on the cookstove.
Exceptionally tall and uncommonly thin, the middle-aged woman was still just as patient and good-humored as she had been from the moment she and her husband had welcomed both Ruth and little Lily into their home. The heat from the cookstove today added a flush of pink to her cheeks, and wisps of hair that escaped from the tight bun she wore at the nape of her neck curled around her narrow face to soften her sharp features.
Without a word of complaint, Phanaby set down her spoon and gracefully sidestepped her way around the food Lily had thrown to the floor. After moistening a fresh rag, she carried it back with her, stopped in front of Ruth, and smiled. There s a bit of gravy in your hair, too, she said and gently dabbed at Ruth s hairline. There! All gone now, she pronounced and handed the cloth to Ruth. I ll he