A Reluctant Melody - Will she risk losing everything … including her heart? Read online

  A RELUCTANT MELODY BY SANDRA ARDOIN

  Published by Heritage Beacon Fiction

  an imprint of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas

  2333 Barton Oaks Dr., Raleigh, NC, 27614

  ISBN: 978-1-941103-67-8

  Copyright © 2016 by Sandra Ardoin

  Cover design by Elaina Lee

  Interior design by AtriTeX Technologies P Ltd

  Available in print from your local bookstore, online, or from the publisher at:

  www.lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com

  For more information on this book and the author visit: http://sandraardoin.com

  All rights reserved. Non-commercial interests may reproduce portions of this book without the express written permission of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, provided the text does not exceed 500 words. When reproducing text from this book, include the following credit line: “A Reluctant Melody by Sandra Ardoin published by Heritage Beacon Fiction. Used by permission.”

  Commercial interests: No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only.

  Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown’s patentee, Cambridge University Press.

  Brought to you by the creative team at Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas: Susan Craft, Eddie Jones, Rowena Kuo, Ann Tatlock, Brian Cross, Paige Boggs

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Ardoin, Sandra.

  A Reluctant Melody / Sandra Ardoin 1st ed.

  Printed in the United States of America

  PRAISE FOR A RELUCTANT MELODY

  Sandra Ardoin writes compelling, fast-moving stories with fascinating characters, and A Reluctant Melody is no exception. No kidding, she hooked me in the first three pages. I loved everything about this novel, the drama, the suspense, the strong romantic thread, and the redemptive element. Don’t miss this one, or you’ll be missing out on a real gem.

  ~Sharlene MacLaren

  Author of the Tennessee Dreams Series

  A Reluctant Melody takes a background of discord and mismatched notes in unusual characters and well-hidden secrets to weave a story of repentance, renewal, reconciliation and forgiveness which become a sweet melody of hope for a harmonious future.

  ~Martha Rogers

  Author of The Homeward Journey Series

  For such a complex novel filled with twists and turns, the storyline of A Reluctant Melody remains clear, easy to follow, and captures your attention throughout. This is a historical I will be recommending for a long time. A five-star tale of intrigue, hope and romance. Well done!

  ~Elaine Cooper

  Author of Fields of the Fatherless

  A Reluctant Melody by Sandra Ardoin has a perfect blend of romance and suspense. The Christian message is nicely woven into the story with delicate healing threads. Speaking as a woman who has experienced the heartache and difficulties associated with addiction, I could relate to the characters’ dark moments. Then I rejoiced with them as hope, grace, and love filled their lives. Readers will too!

  ~Andrea Boeshaar

  Author of the Shenandoah Valley Saga

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Acknowledgments

  A Reluctant Melody was born during the writing of my Christmas novella The Yuletide Angel. After the character of Kit Barnes arrived on the scene, it didn’t take long for me to realize he must have his own story! So …

  My gratitude goes to those at Heritage Beacon Fiction and Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas for their willingness to publish this book and its predecessor. Their hard work in editing, designing, marketing (and other tasks I’m not even aware of) creates a product a reader wants to add to their to-be-read stacks. I especially thank Ann Tatlock, Susan Craft, Eddie Jones, Paige Boggs, and my fellow LPC authors for their efforts and support.

  Critique partners and beta readers refine the manuscript and make it shine. I’ve had some incredible polishers on this one. Angie Arndt, Marilyn Lentz, Heidi Chiavaroli, Nicole Miller, Phyllis Keels, and my “in-house” reader, Catherine Ardoin—I couldn’t do it without you.

  And, of course, no book’s launch into the world is complete without enthusiastic readers willing to tell their friends. Word-of-mouth recommendations and reviews are the lifelines that keep a book afloat. Thank you so much, readers, for your help.

  Hebrews 4:16 is my scripture of choice for A Reluctant Melody, because we all need the grace and mercy only God can bestow. My prayer is that everyone who reads this story will find something in the fictional experiences of Kit and Joanna that blesses their real lives.

  Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to do what I truly enjoy.

  Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace,

  that we may obtain mercy,

  and find grace to help in time of need.

  Hebrews 4:16 (KJV)

  A Gift for You

  Thank you for investing in this book. As a thank you, LPC Books would love to offer you advance review Kindle copies of our forthcoming books. These Kindle ebooks will be delivered to your Kindle reader. We release around 40 books a year. You pick which ones you wish to receive. Visit the link below to sign up for our FREE Kindle ebook subscriber list:

  http://lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com/free-ebook/

  CHAPTER ONE

  North Carolina, 1892

  Joanna Stewart’s fingers waltzed across the silk covering her lap. Had the stripes of the dress fabric been piano keys, the cab of her brougham would be filled with the melody of Sullivan’s “Let Me Dream Again.”

  She halted the romping digits and gripped the material of her skirt in a tight fis
t. Dreams. She awoke to the pain they caused years ago … after the lie of romantic love dealt its deadly blow.

  A horse car rattled past on the tracks running down the middle of Broad Street. The bell dangling from the animals’ collars jingled with each plodding step.

  Joanna’s driver, Liam McCall, turned onto Cleary. When the carriage stopped, she peeked out the window and scanned the dry and dusty street in front of the Stewart Broom Factory. When was the last time she’d ventured out of her house and into the midst of strangers? A month? Two? She wouldn’t be in town now if Perry’s note hadn’t stressed the importance of their meeting.

  A man on a bicycle passed too close to the carriage and thumbed the bell on his contraption. Her horse shied and the brougham rocked. Joanna grabbed the window frame to brace herself.

  Using coarse language and the power of brawny arms, Liam brought the animal under control. A moment later, he yanked the door open and held out his hand. “Foul things, horses. If it were up to me, I’d shoot ’em all.”

  Inwardly, Joanna cringed. “Even work animals deserve our respect and compassion, Mr. McCall.” As he helped her down, his callused fingers swallowed her lace-gloved hand.

  What she wouldn’t give to rid herself of the drunkard with the bloodshot eyes and whiskey breath. She had never met a more unsavory individual than this man, her best friend’s husband.

  She picked coins from her purse. “It’s near noon. Get something to eat. I should be no more than an hour.” He grunted and reached for the money. She pulled her hand back. “Something to eat, not drink.”

  Liam’s lower jaw worked back and forth, and his stare hardened. He would be a handsome man if the surliness ever left his face, and drink hadn’t bloated it. Looks were a fool’s delight, especially when wasted on a man with a fondness for alcohol. Joanna learned that lesson the hard way.

  “Yes, Miz Stewart.”

  She placed the coins on his palm, then lowered the brim of her hat and turned toward the two-story brick building containing the broom factory’s offices.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  The husky male voice jolted her. She glanced up and into the somber, brown eyes of a man whose scarred face, off-center nose, and tattered clothing said he’d witnessed some of the worst of life.

  He whipped off his hat and lowered his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to have more of those coins, would you? It’s been a couple days since I’ve eaten.”

  Most likely, this rough-looking man had spent his money at one of the local bars like Liam was wont to do, yet something about him struck a chord of empathy in Joanna. She dug into her purse a second time, handed him the same amount of money she’d given Liam, and added a brief smile. “Go with my driver to the café down the street.”

  The man dipped his chin. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Joanna ignored Liam’s scowl and escaped to the building. Inside, she nodded to a gentleman seated behind a desk and climbed the L-shaped staircase to her right. At the end of the hallway, she stopped outside a door marked Perry Stewart, President.

  As she clutched the knob, a tall shadow formed on the other side of the frosted glass. Before its presence fully registered, the door swung open and the knob jerked from her hand. A soft squeak emerged from her throat.

  Perry stood in the doorway, a column of strength and masculinity. As usual, he was impeccably dressed in an expensive black suit, and his hair, short and dark, was combed back to form waves on top of his head. With a narrow face and aqua eyes, he resembled his mother more than his father.

  “Good morning, Jo. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  At his warm smile, she lowered her gaze to the hands clutching her purse. Perry had been her friend for more than five years. Sadly, her visits meant more to him than to her. Somewhere there must be a rule she could recite to him that discouraged grown stepsons from becoming romantically involved with their younger stepmothers.

  “You simply took me by surprise. How did you know I’d arrived?”

  “The transom.” He laughed. “A woman’s light step is apparent. I must say, in your case it was eagerly anticipated.”

  He eased back into the room where English landscapes hung from mahogany paneling, and an antique oriental carpet covered the wood floor. The latter’s intricate patterns in red, gold, and deep blue matched the richness of the walls. Unlike his frugal father, Perry had excellent taste and an appreciation for quality.

  A breeze wafted through two open windows and carried the essence of the adjacent factory into the room: broom corn, machine oil, dust, men’s shouts. The factory had prospered under Perry’s management, but its income hadn’t provided the Stewarts’ fortune—a fortune that dwindled under her late husband’s control.

  Although her husband had chosen to bequeath her—his disgraced spouse—little more than a rundown, old mansion, Joanna didn’t begrudge Perry his inheritance. Nor had she blamed Clayton for leaving her a symbolic reminder of the state of their marriage. She had earned his contempt when she confessed her shame a week after they married.

  She entered the room and stopped between a pair of hand-carved chairs facing a mahogany desk. Papers covered the surface of the desk and were stacked inches high on each end.

  “You look busy.” She kept her back to Perry. At thirty-two, he was six years older, but she often felt as ancient as the carpet under her feet.

  “You know I’m never too busy for you. I hate seeing you waste away in that crumbling relic alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Rose and Annie.” And Liam. She attempted a smile, but it faded before it began. “Why did you send for me?”

  The door clicked shut. “Someone is interested in buying the house.”

  This time the smile blossomed, inside and out. Finally. “That’s wonderful news.”

  Instead of walking around the desk, Perry stopped behind her. He gave her shoulders a light squeeze, and then slid his hands down the full, green and white-striped sleeves covering her arms. “I’m happy to see you finally treated yourself to a new dress. You’ve worn those old frocks for too long.”

  Pressed between her stepson and the desk, she turned in his arms. “Perry—”

  Behind him, glass rattled with the opening of the office door. Joanna hid from view.

  A throat cleared. “I’m sorry for interrupting. I was instructed to walk right in.”

  Kit Barnes. Even after all these years, the familiar voice left her weak. She peeked around Perry and drew back before Kit could recognize her.

  What was he doing in Banesville? How had he found her?

  Joanna’s vision blurred, and her head grew light. If Perry hadn’t caught her, she would have fallen to her knees.

  ***

  Mr. Stewart caught the woman as she collapsed. “My dear.”

  Kit strode forward. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I’ll handle it.” Southerners were touted to be hospitable, but Perry Stewart’s abrupt response made it clear he didn’t welcome assistance. Kit backed away to give the couple room, while Stewart helped the woman into a chair and crouched beside her, his profile sharp with worry. “Darling, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” The voice barely reached a soft hum.

  Kit had spied only a sliver of white-gold locks piled under a black straw hat. “Shall I summon a doctor?”

  “No.” The feminine whisper turned harsh.

  Perry Stewart ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at Kit, his expression shifting from displeasure to anxiety. He turned back to the woman. “Did you eat this morning?”

  She shook her head.

  “We’ve had this discussion before. You must let Rose fix you regular meals. It’s near noon. I’ll order lunch for the three of us.”

  “Don’t bother.” She started to rise, but Stewart pushed her back into the chair.

  “You must revive your strength.”

  Her back stiffened. “I ca ...” A shout from the factor
y yard covered the rest of her reply.

  “If the lady isn’t feeling well, perhaps we should postpone this meeting.” Kit clutched the brim of his hat in a tight fist and waited.

  “Perhaps it would be best.” Stewart led him to the door and ushered him into the hallway. “I regret your wasted time, sir.”

  The moment he’d received the attorney’s letter indicating the availability of the house on Hickory Grove Road, Kit dropped everything to travel to North Carolina. He discarded the idea of going back to Pittsburgh without at least discussing a possible purchase.

  “I’ll be at the Hotel Ambrose and won’t consider my time wasted as long as we can meet again soon.”

  “I’ll send a message with a new appointment time once Joanna is able to join us again. Good day, Mr. Barnes.”

  The door snapped shut behind Kit, and he stood in the stuffy hall with the brim of his hat curled in his hands. Joanna? He dismissed the sinking feeling in his gut as ridiculous. Numerous women with that name were born into the world, even some with hair the color of a midday sun. He loosened his grip on the tortured head covering, rolled his shoulders, and trudged down the stairs.

  Why had he been so quick to suggest postponing their meeting? Though he questioned the need for Mrs. Stewart’s attendance, how long would he have to wait for another appointment?

  Time was running out. He must purchase that house or it would be the alcohol-obsessed men of Banesville who would suffer.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kit walked out of the office building and into the sunshine of the early June day with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets and his shoulders hunched.

  His partner, Benton Greer, stood with one foot on the ground and the other propped against the bricks of the front wall outside the broom factory. “Well?”

  Kit stopped at Ben’s side. “I don’t know.”

  Using the sole of his boot, the lanky giant pushed away from the building. “What does that mean?”

  “The meeting was postponed. There’s a woman involved somehow. She became ill, so I suggested we wait until she felt better.” Kit marched through the opening in the picket fence surrounding the broom factory with Ben walking in his shadow. “We might as well head back to the hotel and eat lunch. Mr. Stewart said he’d arrange another meeting and send a message.”