A Bullet to the Heart by Kathy Wheeler (most read books of all time .TXT) 📕

was the perfect place for him. I spoke to a few of my NYC cronies. Kingsley admitted himself he gotten in trouble with the mob. A few of my old cronies in the city confirmed it.” Wyn shuddered to think what would have happened to Jo if the man had talked her into marrying Styles. No telling how deep the two were in.

“Did you learn anything regarding Simon, Jr.?”

He snorted. “I should have thought of it myself. Apparently, Simon couldn’t keep his hands off the girls. I guess Mary had some idea.”

Jo tilted her head. “Victor rarely let us out of his sight. She must have warned him. He kept the shrubbery trimmed back so that we were always in view.”

“I did some checking. Simon’s father has been diligent in keeping his son’s criminal record under wraps. I suspect it was Simon, the son, you heard running away that night. I believe he killed Penelope Knox. He was at Serpent’s Point that night.”

“So, Mary had told Bobby her suspicions about Simon. I always suspected she didn’t care for us moving here. But at least she didn’t relish harm coming to Tevi, Lydia and me.” Jo blew out a breath even as her vision blurred again. “What a fool I was. How could I be so gullible as to believe a perfect stranger telling me he was my father? And my mother? I should have remembered how controlling Grandmother Claudia was.”

Wyn took hold of her hand, careful not to jar her unnecessarily. The sling she wore wouldn’t keep her from being sore. He turned her palm up and studied the lines there, traced them with the tip of his finger. “You’re being too hard on yourself, love. You were just a child. Adults are there to look after children.” He turned her hand over and squeezed, looked deep in her eyes. “They failed you, Jo.”

“Oh, Wyn.” She blinked and the drops from her lashes fell.

He cupped her jaw and, using his thumbs, swiped at the damp tracks. “I love you, Jo. You know that, don’t you? You outclass me in every conceivable way, but I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Her lips quivered.

“Would I be making the biggest mistake of my life by asking you to spend your life with me?”

“No. That wouldn’t be a mistake,” she said softly. “Would it be a mistake for me to accept?”

“No,” he whispered against her lips. Every emotion possible roared through him at her touch, her trust. He vowed never to forget how difficult it was for her to trust another.

She pulled away, her brows furrowed. “Your mother won’t be happy.”

He laughed, not the least bit concerned. “Maybe not, but it’s my life—your life—our life. Will you be happy with a small town, small island cop?”

Mirth twinkled in her eyes. She batted them at him with a coyness that thrilled him, though her eyes still glittered. “Are you talking about you or Jackson?”

“Me. Jackson hasn’t been deputized yet,” he growled, leaning forward and taking her mouth with determined possessiveness. “Don’t tease me. My nerves are too frayed.”

She let out a delicate snort. “You have nerves of steel.”

“Not when it comes to you, love.”

“I love you, Wyn. I believe I would be deliriously happy with a small island cop.” She brushed her mouth back up against his. “You know we have to live here, in this house, for a year, right?”

“See if you can stop me,” he breathed. “If you lose your inheritance, you would be stuck with me.”

“I can live with that, Wyndel Smith, Jr.”

Epilogue

T

he others gathered in the room: Jo, Wyn, Tevi, Jackson, and Eleanor, all awaiting the call for dinner as the conversation flowed around them. Jo didn’t participate but sipped at her sherry. She couldn’t believe how hungry she was and caught herself smiling at the thought. She was almost never hungry. It was the first time in weeks.

Esther announced another visitor. “Mr. Guthrie.”

Simon, Sr. walked in. “Josephine, might I have a word?”

“Of course.” Jo slipped out, ignoring Wyn’s frown. Wyn still harbored resentment over Guthrie hiding his son’s fallacies. After all the years that had passed, there hadn’t been enough evidence to charge Junior. Jo, on the other hand, couldn’t help liking the older man. She followed him to Uncle Victor’s study.

“I have a letter for you from Victor. The instructions were that it was to be delivered once you were married.” He pulled the envelope from an inside breast pocket and handed it to her. “I’m truly happy for you, my dear.” He kissed her on the cheek.

Jo stared at the letter, barely hearing Simon leave, and with trembling fingers slit it open and read:

Josephine dearest.

This is a difficult note for me to write. By now, you must realize that something terrible happened, and I am now a dearly-departed. I know you believe that I’ve been attempting to rule you from the grave, and perhaps that is true to a degree. Old habits die hard…and all that rot. You must trust me when I say I only wish for your happiness, and more importantly, your safety. First, you should know, your mother is not dead. Second, please forgive my decision in placing you and Jackson in the same house. I pray my visions came through and you and Jackson have buried your differences. Third, my love for you is unbounding. Your sisters and Jackson are the only family you have. Remember that, Jo. Family is everything. In my heart, I hope you chose Wyndel for your husband. He will keep you safe. He will love you as you were meant to be loved, Jo. You are a shining light, and that light will go far. Don’t fret for me, my dear. The world belongs to all my heirs.

Stay safe.

V. Montgomery

Jo fell onto the tufted sofa and dropped her head in her hands, missing her uncle as she’d never missed him before. What would she do without him?

“Jo, darling? What are you doing?”