Read Online Angel of Smoky Hollow by Barbara McMahon - Free Book Online Page A

cheeks.
    Stretched out in front of the fire, he felt warm and replete. The steady drone of the rain on the roof was a pleasant background. He had better keep his distance from Angelica Cannon. Her hands had been warm and soft. Smaller than his, dainty. She intrigued him. And there was that attraction that wouldn’t let go.
    But he was too wise in the ways of women to get hooked. She’d stay a few weeks and then be gone. Might even be a shorter visit once she realized how little there was to do in Smoky Hollow compared to New York City.
    â€œHave you always lived here in Smoky Hollow?” she asked, mimicking him, stretching out her feet toward the fire, leaning against the sofa front. Keeping herself busy asking him questions took her mind off the memory of his lips brushing against her fingertips.
    â€œDid a stint in the army.” He tapped his left ear. “That’s how I lost hearing in this ear, mortar fire. Don’t hear that much from the right either.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine not hearing.”
    â€œI got used to it. When my tour of duty was over, I set out to see America.”
    â€œAnd did you?”
    â€œOh, yeah.” He told her about starting in New York and doing all the sights tourists did. Gradually he moved north, west, south, taking his time and going places he’d always heard about and wanted to see. Picking up construction work was easy. Working with locals helped him really know people who lived in a community. One summer he’d swung through parts of British Columbia and Alberta, dropping down to Montana and continuing his travels.
    Â 
    Angelica listened to Kirk and envy rose sharply within. He’d done so much in just a few years. She’d done so little. The places came alive when he told her of his exploits. Was it the tradition of the hills of Kentucky or was he just a giftedstoryteller? She laughed at his story of the shock of cold water when he went swimming in Yosemite. Caught her breath when he described the grandeur of the Grand Canyon. Wistfully wished she could have seen whales off the coast of British Columbia.
    From time to time Kirk tossed another log on the fire, then resumed his place next to her and continued talking when she prompted with another question. Angelica knew she could listen to him all night. His deep voice resonated within her, his slow drawl had her relaxing and enjoying the evening. She had nothing else to do. It was wonderful.
    â€œIt’s different for a guy. You can go wherever, work some odd jobs, move on. I only know how to play the violin,” she said at one point.
    â€œYou don’t strike me as the nomad type,” he said.
    â€œWho knows what type I am? I’ve been stuck in the same rut since I was six!”
    â€œPast time you broke out, then.”
    â€œYes, like to the wilds of Kentucky.”
    Kirk laughed.
    â€œIt’s not really funny. This is so different for me. I want to see new places, try new things. Have something different in my life! This is very different from New York.”
    â€œOkay, maybe fate had a reason for sending you here.” He gazed at the fire for a moment. Then glanced at her. “Until Webb Francis is up and around, I’ll show you something of the wilds of Kentucky. You can learn to make a fire without matches, hike a trail, catch a fish. Bet you’ve never been to a county fair. We can go. And you can join in the music festival. Play something other than classical music. Really bust out.”
    â€œWith my fiddle,” Angelica said, feeling a sense of elation. “Would you really take me hiking and to a county fair?” He had seemed unhappy with Webb Francis’s suggestion he look out for her. Why the change of heart?
    â€œSure, why not?” He reached out and took her hand. Onceagain Angelica felt the jolt of electricity, but this time she gripped his back, holding on and savoring the sensations. He