The Preacher's Daughter by Cheryl St.john

door and checked all the windows.”
    “Thank you.” A lonely ache had swelled in her chest until she felt close to tears for no good reason.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    She nodded. “Good night.”
    “Thanks for supper,” he added.
    “Thank you for all your help.”
    He settled the hat on his head and strode off the porch.
    Lorabeth watched him mount the black horse that whinnied at his approach and listened until the sound of hoof beats on the brick street faded into the distance.
    After turning down the remaining lamp wicks, she climbed the stairs to her room.
    There’d been a time when she’d seen the bleakness and toil of her mother’s days and dreaded growing up into the same kind of life. Her mother had known there was more, too. She’d been powerless to change things for herself, but she’d made certain to encourage Lorabeth to strive for more.
    Now Lorabeth knew that one day she wanted her own home and a family. She’d worked for the Chaneys for two years, and in that time she’d had plenty of opportunities to be certain of what it was she wanted for her own life.
    From her bedroom window, she gazed out into the dark night and tried to imagine where the park was. Why had she been so hesitant to go in? One of her dreams of freedom had been fulfilled this night, but she’d been afraid to plunge in all the way and dare the unknown.
    Never again. She’d never again miss anything by holding back.

Chapter Six
    A ppreciating the physical exertion that same week, Ben tossed down hay from the top of a stack in the barn and forked it to the stalls in the rear. He’d put a lot of enthusiasm into commanding his head and his will into submission over the past several years. He worked to use his energy in good ways because he had to be a man of strong character.
    His life had been all about self-control, but it had been too easy. He should have known. He’d never been tempted from his purpose or distracted by physical or emotional desires. Until now.
    Lorabeth was his weakness. He recognized it. He resented it. She was all he valued and respected. She was pure and innocent.
    Doubly dangerous because of her perfection. She stirred up responses that he had vowed never to allow.
    The sound of a buggy alerted him to the presence of a visitor or a patient. Dropping the pitchfork with a flurry of swirling dust motes, he strode out into the sunshine and met the female driver who stepped down.
    “Mornin’, ma’am. Fine day for a ride.”
    Her straw bonnet hid most of her face from view as she turned to the rear floor of the conveyance and took out a crate covered with an afghan. “I’ve brought my Minnie for your help, Doctor. It seems the foolish girl has managed to get a fish hook stuck through her paw.”
    A loud mewl from inside the crate told Benjamin that the feline inside wasn’t any happier than its owner.
    He stepped forward. “Let’s have a look at Minnie.”
    The woman held the crate forward at the same time she introduced herself. “I’m…I’m…” She flattened her palm against her chest and stared at him as though she’d seen an apparition. “Oh, my.”
    “Ma’am?”
    “I’m—Susanne Evans,” she said haltingly.
    Ben took the crate, but her eyes didn’t leave his face.
    “You’re Dr. Chaney?”
    “My brother-in-law is the medical doctor, as I’m sure you know. I’m the vet. Call me Ben.”
    He guessed her to be in her mid-thirties.
    She had black hair and ebony-winged brows above green eyes. She was a striking woman, full-figured and apple-cheeked.
    She stared at him. Then, as though realizing she hadn’t let go of the crate, she jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…”
    “What?”
    Her skin seemed unusually pale.
    “Are you all right, Mrs. Evans?”
    She nodded.
    “Do you want to come into my office while I look at your cat?”
    She nodded.
    “Do you need a drink of water or somethin’?”
    She cleared her throat. “No.”
    He peeled away the