His Mountain Miss (Smoky Mountain Matches) Read Online Free PDF Page A

day, he seemed particularly down. I joined him in the parlor—uninvited, mind you—and we wound up talking for hours. He wanted to be a writer. Did you know that?” Huddled inside his overlarge coat, her pale hair clinging to her skin, she looked small and vulnerable. Sadness tugged at her mouth.
    “No, I didn’t.” He forced himself to look away from her, to watch the continuing storm that mirrored the one inside him.
    It sounded as if she and Charles had shared a special bond. Of course he hadn’t been privy to his grandfather’s dreams, his likes and dislikes, or anything else remotely personal. He had never even met the man! The spurt of jealousy took him by surprise.
    Why should he care? Charles had written his mother and him off years ago. They had ceased to exist in his grandfather’s mind. This will stipulation only served to prove Charles’s dislike, one final thrust of the dagger. It hadn’t been enough to ignore Lucian during his lifetime. He’d had to go and complicate matters with this house, just to underscore his loathing.
    “He tried his hand at poetry,” she continued, “and he even penned a couple of short stories. I think it kept the loneliness at bay, if temporarily.”
    He chose to ignore the censure in her voice, the unspoken questions.
    “Lucian, your grandfather was a good man. He—”
    “Stop. I do not wish to discuss him anymore today.”
    “But—”
    “Megan, don’t.” He shot her a warning glance.
    “Fine.” She jutted her chin. “Then how about we address the poetry recital coming up?”
    “Poetry recital?”
    “You know, when people stand up and recite poetry by rote?”
    “I know what it is,” he told her drily. “How many people are we talking about?”
    “We average between twenty-five and thirty.”
    He sighed. Thirty strangers parading through his house. He didn’t like it. Resented this present circumstance that was beyond his control. As empty as his life in New Orleans had become, it was his home. Comfortable and familiar. Predictable. He knew what to expect from those around him, and they him.
    Frustration surged. If not for this young lady, he would’ve already put the house up for sale and been well on his way out of this backwoods town.
    “By all means, proceed with your plans as you’ve always done.”
    Surprise flickered.
    “But let me make myself clear—I plan to do everything possible to find a way around that stipulation.”
    She jerked her head back. Anger flashed in her eyes. “Why am I not surprised? You don’t care about the children or the people of this community.” Yanking off his coat, she thrust it at him, and he fumbled to catch it before it fell to the floor. “You care only about yourself—” she poked him in the chest “—what you want and what you need. Well, let me assure you, Mr. Beaumont, I will do everything I can to fight you on this.”
    Then, to his shock, she pivoted and dashed out into the rain. Though it had slacked off, the rain was still steady. Did she plan to run the entire way home?
    “Megan!” He rushed to the top step. “Wait!”
    He wasn’t sure if she heard him or not. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down, just kept going. Across the grass and down the lane, until she disappeared around the bend.
    Shoving his hands through his hair, he blew out an aggravated breath. The woman was a danger to his sanity. And control? Hah! She had him so mixed up, he couldn’t tell up from down.
    He was beginning to wish he’d never heard of Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

Chapter Four
    L ucian couldn’t in good conscience allow Megan to leave without some sort of protection from the elements. Ignoring the fact he was dripping water all over the floors, he went inside in search of his umbrella. Seizing one propped against the wall, he tossed his coat on the hall table and hurried back out into the rain. There, at the end of the lane, was a flash of white and blue.
    As he sprinted across the sprawling lawn, bits of mud