A Mail-Order Hope (Miners to Millionaires Book 3) Read online

  A Mail-Order Hope

  Miners to Millionaires - Book 3

  Janelle Daniels

  Dream Cache Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Titles by Janelle Daniels

  Determined to return a good deed, Isabelle Sweeney refuses to leave Asher Walker in peace until he agrees to stop his self-imposed seclusion and connect with other people. Finding him every inch as stubborn as herself, she offers a compromise: she’ll stop hiking to his cabin if he’ll agree to partner her on the scavenger hunt, participate in one Founder’s Day activity, and escort her to the dance. After that, he could go back to his lonely existence without her interference.

  After the death of his fiancée, Asher has no intention of interacting with others. His presence puts people at risk, and he refuses to injure anyone else. But when Belle vows to keep visiting him, he reluctantly agrees to her three demands. However, after his final task, he would return to the mountain without looking back.

  Their pasts force them apart, but there’s something between them neither can deny. Can they push past their fears and come together…or will history repeat itself?

  To sign up for Janelle Daniels’ mailing list and receive notice of new titles as they are available, click here.

  To my fans. You really know how to make me feel amazing.

  And, as always, to Dan.

  Chapter 1

  Isabelle Sweeney didn’t care if she had to come back here every day for a year. Asher Walker would talk to her. It wasn’t right that he was holed up in that tiny cabin in the woods, and she refused to let him continue doing it.

  She swiped one of the lower hanging pine branches out of her way, the pokey needles abrading her skin. A small drop of sap lingered on her palm and she kept touching the sticky substance.

  She hefted the basket higher up her arm, ignoring the ache in her bicep. She didn’t care about her discomfort. At this point, she’d haul a whale up the trail if it would tempt Asher to join the ranks of the living.

  Oh, she’d heard the tales. Bandits had kidnapped his fiancée, eventually tying her to a tree. Asher had looked for her, but the search had ended tragically.

  Bear attack.

  She felt for the man. No one could go on easily after that. But the fact was, he was still living. Belle intended on reminding him of that.

  Just as soon as he opened the door and spoke to her.

  Seven baskets. Seven! That’s how many she had delivered to his cabin, and that’s how many times she’d been turned away.

  She frowned. Well, not exactly turned away. The man would actually have to speak to her to tell her to go away. But he’d never opened his door, he’d never come out. She’d been left standing on the porch practically talking to herself.

  But she knew he had been inside. He’d heard every word.

  It was high time someone gave that man a kick in the backside. She only hoped it would jar him out of his grieving.

  She paused once she reached his clearing. The structure wasn’t much, but she couldn’t deny that he’d chosen a glorious spot. The air was crisp, clean, and she could smell the lingering flowers that had wilted in the meadow.

  For a man who shunned the world, he had certainly chosen a little piece of heaven to imprison himself in.

  With deep breath, she entered his little patch of perfection, weaving around on a thin path through the grass until she was in front of the cabin. “Hello, Mr. Walker,” she called out. “It’s Isabelle Sweeney. I’ve come for another visit.” She waited a moment for his reply, but other than the floorboards shifting inside, it was silent. In fact, it was as if the meadow followed his lead and even the birds and insects quieted.

  Harrumph. Well, then.

  “Why, yes! I’d love to stay.” She took a few more steps and placed the basket on his porch before heading back to sit on a stump in the meadow. If the man had a chair on his porch, she’d sit there, but alas, he didn’t want company.

  Too bad for him.

  Her smile widened. She’d just have to change his mind.

  “I hope you enjoy the basket,” she called out a little louder to make sure her words carried through the cracks in the closed door. “I packed some strawberry jam I made yesterday, along with a fresh loaf of bread. There are books too. Why, I didn’t realize it until this moment,” she said with false surprise, “but those items are perfect for a picnic. Why don’t you come out here and join me? The weather is very fine.”

  A soft breeze rustled through the trees, and the warm sun shined on her upturned face. It really was a perfect day.

  Still no reply. Sigh.

  She ran her hands through the tall grass. What was he interested in? What would he want to know?

  Her hand paused. She didn’t know much about his past, but she did know it involved one person. “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but Olivia married Ronan Briggs.” The floorboards stopped squeaking.

  “It’s true,” she continued quickly. “They went to Atlanta on their honeymoon and returned a few weeks ago. At least, that’s when Ronan finally made it back.” If the mystery sparked his curiosity and he managed to bring himself to ask why Ronan returned at a different date than Olivia, she might give him information. Something had to make him want to come out.

  She’d seen him in town a time or two getting supplies at the mercantile, but he’d always been in a hurry, so she hadn’t bothered him. The whole reason she’d started visiting Asher was because of the assistance he’d given Sawyer Morrison, the sheriff, when Clara had been kidnapped. Both Ronan and Asher had helped locate her.

  It seemed like forever ago, but in truth, Ivan’s almost brides, the nine women whom Ivan Pavlova wrote to and intended on marrying, had only been there a short time. So much had already happened, Clara’s kidnapping was only one incident.

  Asher and Ronan most definitely had a history. Whether it was pleasant or not wasn’t known to her, but by his reaction, she’d guess the latter.

  She rolled her eyes at herself. And she was basing that off what? The fact that he stopped pacing? It was little to go on.

  Still… “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some sort of party soon. There wasn’t exactly time to celebrate their union. I could talk to Ronan and make sure you’re invited. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Silence.

  She stood from the stump but didn’t move forward. “Listen, Mr. Walker. I’m going to keep coming here. Every. Single. Week. I don’t care how long it takes. I know you don’t want me here—you’ve made that perfectly clear—but I’m not giving up. I’m going to visit you and speak of utter nonsense until you open that door and let me in.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but she didn’t pay it any mind. In fact, her whole focus was on the house, willing him to open the door.

  “Do you hear me, Mr. Walker? Until you open that door, I’m going to keep coming back.”

  Her mouth fell open when the door inched open. She’d only needed to threaten to come back? She should’ve done that in the beginning. This all could’ve been finished by—

  A shotgun barrel slid through the opening. “Don’t move,” he said.

  She swallowed hard as her heart rate sped up with the clear threat. “I’m… I’m sorry. If you
feel that strongly, I… ah… I won’t come back.” She retreated a step.

  “I said don’t move,” he whispered harshly. His gun angled at her.

  “I think it’s best if I just leave—”

  A growl sounded behind her. She froze, her eyes widening like a hunted animal. “Mr. Walker?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She refused to close her eyes, refused to look away from the door. It was almost as if that one link to him could keep her alive.

  The animal behind her growled again. It sounded like a bear, but with her limbs frozen, she couldn’t bring herself to check for sure. She was going to die here. Just like that.

  Alone.

  Finally shuttering her eyes, she prayed for peace, prayed that she would somehow survive this. I’ll do better. I swear it. I’ll make sure Asher lives a good life. I’ll get married and have children. I’ll do anything.

  She continued making nonsensical promises to God as seconds ticked by. How long did she have? How long until she was mauled?

  A thump of paws hitting the ground sounded behind her, and her eyes flew open in time to see the shotgun barrel waver, then lower in the doorway. She still didn’t move though. In truth, she didn’t know if she could.

  After another minute or two, he said, “Come here.”

  She didn’t need to be told again. Her legs practically flew her to the porch and into the house—straight into Asher’s arms.

  Moving around her, he closed the door firmly, bolting it. If only it was strong enough to hold out the bear if he changed his mind and decided he really wanted to eat her.

  Her teeth chattered and she began shaking.

  “Hey.” He set the gun aside and stepped closer to her. “You’re okay now.” He rubbed her upper arms briskly. “You’re safe.”

  She shivered as she nodded, trying to believe his words, but her body didn’t think she was okay. She’d almost been killed. By a bear. How had she not seen him? She should’ve sensed something, should’ve known. Bears didn’t just show up out of the blue. There were signs. Things like stillness and—the meadow had been dead quiet.

  Stupid.

  She should’ve realized the danger immediately. If she hadn’t been so focused on getting Asher to talk, she would’ve. “So stupid.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She knew he’d heard her. He was probably asking who she was calling stupid, him or her. In truth, they both were. She was stupid for letting signs of danger slip by, and he was stupid for holing himself in here, and she was stupid for pushing to get him out, and he was stupid for—nope. She needed to stop that line of thought right there. Besides, it didn’t help anyone to assign blame. “You heard me.”

  His hands stopped rubbing her, but she nudged them, asking him for more without saying the words. He complied, but asked, “Why am I stupid?”

  “We’re both stupid,” she mumbled.

  “I see.”

  But there was no way he could see, because even she didn’t understand any of it. She let out a pent-up breath, hoping the motion would calm her. “That bear could have killed me.”

  “Yes, but it didn’t. I wouldn’t have allowed that.”

  “You wouldn’t allow that?” She snorted. “And how would you have stopped it?” She hadn’t thought a man could be so arrogant. Not that she minded in the least. His self-assured tone helped soothe her as much as his hands.

  He shrugged, and her eyes flickered over the heavily muscled shoulders concealed beneath his green and black plaid shirt. The green matched his eyes, she realized. Well, not quite. It matched the green in them, but there were flecks of brown and gold in there too. She’d never seen eyes quite that color.

  “I would’ve shot it. It would have never touched you,” he promised.

  She believed him. But still… “What if you had missed?”

  “I never miss.”

  “Never?” She arched a brow, grateful this conversation was distracting her. The last of her shivers eased, but he continued stroking her. She should probably tell him to stop, but the connection to him was nice. She’d never allowed a man to touch her this way, and every brush of his hands were sending tingles up her arms.

  He held her gaze another moment before he finally broke the contact. “No.”

  No. Well, that left little more to be discussed. But she wasn’t done. She was inside his cabin. Inside! The thought jarred her, and she finally broke contact with him. She’d done it. She’d gotten inside. All because a bear had almost killed her. But it hadn’t. And now that she was still alive and actually inside Asher’s home, he’d have to talk to her. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner? She snorted.

  “What’s funny?” he asked. He looked over her with concerned eyes.

  No doubt he thought she’d lost her mind, cracked under the pressure from her near-death experience. She pursed her lips. “Just thinking how I should’ve arranged for a bear attack on my second attempt to talk to you. Had I known how easy it was to get into your house after, I would’ve done it a lot sooner.”

  His eyes narrowed, but she wrinkled her nose at him. Could he not take a joke? Or was it just that it was too soon after the ordeal? Either way, it was behind her. And that was exactly where she preferred near-death experiences to be.

  “Do you think this is a joke? You almost died.”

  She lifted a brow. “I thought you said you’d never let that happen?”

  He spluttered, and she smiled. It was turning out to be a lot easier to unnerve him than she thought it would be. “I’m only teasing.”

  “It’s not funny. Had that bear come upon you on your way here…” He shook his head as if he couldn’t stand the thought.

  He looked really torn up about it. Guilt pricked her. She wanted him to come out of his shell and start to live again, but she didn’t want to bring him any pain.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping forward and placing her hand on his arm. When he flinched, she didn’t comment on it, but continued touching him. It might not be proper, but he needed the connection. “I’m sorry. I won’t tease you.”

  “It’s fine.” He stepped away from her touch, and she curled her fingers into a fist, determined not to push him. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to talking to women.”

  “Just women?” He gave her a look, and she shook her head. “Forgive me. I can’t ever seem to keep my mouth shut when needed. Or…ever for that matter.”

  His lips twitched, and she felt as if she’d performed a huge feat.

  “No. You’re right,” he said. “I’m not used to dealing much with others.”

  “If not for that bear out there”—she nodded toward the closed door—“this wouldn’t be happening, would it? I’d still be out there sitting on a stump, talking to myself.”

  He nodded once.

  Well, at least he was being honest with her. “Mr. Walker, you can’t stay here forever.”

  “You’re right. I’ll need supplies eventually.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “You know what I mean.”

  She knew he did. In fact, she had a feeling he’d been teasing her. But teasing or not, there was truth in his words. “You have to move on eventually.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, looking uncomfortable once again. “Look, Miss Sweeney. You don’t know me, and I don’t know anything about you, other than the things you’ve said outside my house. I appreciate you’re concerned for me, but you needn’t be. I’m fine.”

  He could say he was fine until he was blue in the face, and it still wouldn’t convince her of it. “No, you’re not.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You helped find Clara when she was kidnapped. If it weren’t for you, we would’ve never gotten her back. We owe you.”

  His hand sliced through the air. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  Why was he so upset over that? “M
aybe we don’t owe you, but one good deed deserves something in return.”

  “Consider it done. I’ve had more treats from you than I’ve had in years.”

  He had no idea who he was dealing with. “I’m not giving up on you. Until I’m satisfied that you’re living a full and healthy life, I’ll keep coming back. See you next week,” she added a little too sweetly as she moved toward the door.

  He growled at her on her way out.

  Chapter 2

  Asher dumped his camping gear on the ground before stepping on his porch a week and a half later. He’d left shortly after Belle’s visit and hadn’t returned until then. He wasn’t hiding, exactly. No. He wasn’t hiding at all, he reassured himself. He’d needed the time away to think, to hunt.

  He’d most definitely not been hiding from Belle and her threat—promise—to return. And spotting the basket on his porch, she’d made good on her promise. She’d come back just as she’d said. Determined. Stubborn. Didn’t the woman know when to give in?

  He stomped up the rickety steps, clumps of dried mud chunking off his boots with each step, before he fished a note attached to the offering.

  Mr. Walker,

  Don’t think that just because you have avoided me, I’ll stop. As I told you, I’m not giving up. You might as well accept it. I hope you have a chance to enjoy these muffins. But if some hungry creature steals them before you return…your loss.

  Warm (but not too warm) regards,

  Isabelle Sweeney

  His lips twitched as he read the note twice. He didn’t want to be amused. He really didn’t. But heaven above, how she become so stubborn? He hadn’t paid much notice to Ivan’s brides, but with Belle’s attentions, how could he not notice her?

  It wasn’t only that she was beautiful. He’d seen plenty of beautiful women, but she was so much more than that. He’d been annoyed with her first visit, but after an hour of listening to her—the way she found humor in the smallest things, the way she spoke about others—her light had drawn him in.