Witemeyer Karen Quotes & Sayings

Jericho, hmm?" Hannah felt an answering grin curve her lips. "I suddenly feel a great fondness for that name."
The two women giggled like young girls scheming behind the schoolhouse. Jericho Tucker had no idea what was coming his way. — Karen Witemeyer

Stone rose to his feet and bent down to capture on of her hands. Dobson's not the only man you can depend on, Charlotte.She looked at him a long moment before tugging her hand free. We'll see. — Karen Witemeyer

If you want to protect me, prayer is just as powerful a weapon as that gun you carry. — Karen Witemeyer

Are you sure I can't mend a shirt or darn a sock for you in trade? Anything?"
"You can quit your yammerin' and carry this table downstairs so I can get back to minding my own business instead of messing around in yours. — Karen Witemeyer

I love you, Lottie, and I want to make you my wife." Stone's low voice rumbled between them. Ardent. Unwavering. Determined. "I'll pursue you," he vowed, "until a parson either joins us in marriage or speaks words over my grave. — Karen Witemeyer

Joanna pivoted and bit back a groan of despair.Crockett Archer was even more handsome than she'd remembered. Somehow his rancher's clothing made him seem more approachable, more ... within her reach. And if that wasn't the most ridiculous notion, she didn't know what was. A man with his looks and kind heart could have any woman he chose. He'd never settle for a shy, freckled redhead with an ex-outlaw for a father. She was everything the ideal preacher's wife was not. — Karen Witemeyer

You plowed him with a pitchfork?"
"I sure did. My daddy didn't raise no hothouse flower, you know."
Gideon had a feeling he would have liked her daddy. — Karen Witemeyer

Loving this woman was either going to kill him or make his life richer than he'd ever imagined. — Karen Witemeyer

He unlaced his arms and took a step forward. "You hurt?"
"Not badly." She tried to smile, but her lips only curved on one side. "My main problem is that I'm stuck to a cactus."
( ... )
"How'd you manage to get tangled up with a cactus?" J.T. crouched beside her and started extricating her from the prickly plant.
"Well, believe it or not, I was on my way to apologize to you when a prairie-dog hole jumped up and grabbed my shoe heel. — Karen Witemeyer

The fiasco in the barn flashed through her mind. Yesterday she'd showered him with oats and today she'd pummeled him with a broom. At this rate, he'd be dead by the end of the week. — Karen Witemeyer

Why was it that thoughts and plans always made more sense when confined to one's mind than when they exited one's mouth? — Karen Witemeyer

I love you too much to give up on you. — Karen Witemeyer

Will you need assistance with the boilers, as well?" "I can manage those on my own, but we'll need two wheelbarrow loads of wood to fuel the fireboxes. There's a barrow out by the woodshed. If you would start loading it while I move the boilers down to the pond, that would save considerable time." "Aye, aye, Captain." Nicole clicked her heels together and snapped a salute. Her employer seemed a bit nonplussed by her actions until she winked at him and allowed the smile she'd been fighting to bloom across her face. He laughed then and gave her a playful push in the direction of the shed. "Hop to, sailor, before I make you walk the plank for insubordination." Nicole scurried away, giving her best imitation of a cowed crew member, bowing and scraping as she trotted over the packed dirt of the yard. Darius's deep chuckles followed her, the rich sound warming a place inside her that she hadn't even realized had been cold. — Karen Witemeyer

Jericho? You're smiling." "I am?" He stroked her cheek again. Warm tingles coursed through her, and instinctively, she followed his touch a second time. His smile widened. "I must be happy." ( ... ) "You're quite handsome when you're happy." Jericho trailed one finger under her chin. "I'll make a note of your preference. — Karen Witemeyer

Beware, Charlotte Atherton," Stone murmured as she disappeared around the corner of the barn. "I'm coming for you." A smile of anticipation stretched across his face. "And I always retrieve what I set out after. — Karen Witemeyer

It would be unfair to measure him against a fictional standard that he could never possibly achieve. — Karen Witemeyer

It was like skimming through a novel without fully engaging with the story until a well-turned phrase or powerful bit of imagery snagged her attention, hinting at depths previously unnoticed. — Karen Witemeyer

Certainty of purpose pumping with every heartbeat. That rare sense of satisfaction that came only when one responded to the call to the direct call of the Lord. — Karen Witemeyer

I should have died. Not her. Nicole stiffened against him. There it was again, that woeful statement belittling his value, his worth. — Karen Witemeyer

I myself prefer being called Cassie. It's so much friendlier and less pretentious than Cassandra, don't you think? ... I think both fit you right fine. One is elegant and graceful, the other fun and lively. — Karen Witemeyer

Honey, if you got yourself a man who's willing to pay court to you even after the vows are spoke, you got yourself a treasure, not a problem. — Karen Witemeyer

He gently covered her hand with his, wishing he could feel her soft skin through the rough leather of his work gloves. He dragged her fingers down from his mouth and cradled them against his chest. His gaze never left her face. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't look away. Fingers splayed, her palm pressed against the thin cotton of his shirt, directly over his heart. In that moment, he knew she belonged to him. — Karen Witemeyer

Really, Mr. Grant. One would think that after living in this town for nearly a week and making numerous visits to my library, you would extend me the courtesy of learning my name." "I know your name, Eden." Her eyes shot to his. "I know your name." The intensity in his gaze left no doubt of his sincerity. — Karen Witemeyer

Eden," he said, staring at their joined hands. "I built the arch to reveal my heart. Your name will forever be the focal point, uplifted by love. And if you would permit me, I'd like to build more with you - a family and a life." Levi raised his gaze to her face, surprised to see wetness glistening on her cheeks. "Eden, will you marry me? — Karen Witemeyer

Anyone who could disappear with three kids and leave no trace is a force to be reckoned with. I respected your mind from the beginning, but over the last few days, I've come to respect your heart as well. — Karen Witemeyer

Travis came up behind her, his hat brim bumping her head as he nuzzled her neck. She giggled and danced away, feeling playful yet oddly shy at the same time. Travis gave chase, his husky laughter blending with hers as the two of them darted out of the barn. When they neared the porch, he grabbed her about the waist and lifted her off her feet. Meredith squealed. "You can't escape me," Travis murmured in her ear as he gently settled her back on the ground. Meredith turned in his arms to face the man she loved. "I've no desire to." His eyes darkened, and for a moment she thought he would kiss her. But then he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the porch steps. The front door proved more of a challenge to conquer. Travis had to juggle his hold on her a bit before he could get the latch open. Meredith laughed in delight, endeared by his awkward efforts. Once the door was cracked, he kicked it wide with his boot and carried her over the threshold. "Welcome home, Mrs. Archer. — Karen Witemeyer

2 Nicole gnawed on her lip as she pressed her back — Karen Witemeyer

Unable to resist any longer, he buried his fingers in the hair at the base of her neck and angled her face upward. He leaned forward and dropped soft little kisses onto her lips, starting at the corner and working his way across until she began to stir. Her lashes flittered. "Gid - ?" He smothered her question with his kiss. No longer playful, he took her mouth fully, holding nothing back. She was no longer Adelaide Proctor, governess. She was Adelaide Westcott, wife. His wife. It didn't take long for her to recover from her surprise. She clasped his shoulder for support and stretched toward him. His pulse surged, and when she finally pulled away, he refused to let her separate from him completely. He rested his forehead against hers and listened to their ragged breaths echoing in the quiet morning. "Feeling better today, are we?" Adelaide asked as she lowered her head back down to her pillow, her face a becoming shade of pink. Gideon grinned. "A little. — Karen Witemeyer

Every time he came in, he tried to charm me into tellin' him my name, but I never did. I was too aware of who I was. And who I wasn't. — Karen Witemeyer

It was amazing how the right words spoken by a man could soothe insecurities. — Karen Witemeyer

Is that any way to talk to your betrothed?" His syrupy voice set her skin to itching. Eden gathered her shawl a bit more tightly about her. "I'm not your betrothed, Sheriff. I refused your proposal three weeks ago." "And nearly busted my heart in the process, but I forgive you. — Karen Witemeyer

I don't want anyone hurt because I made a wrong choice, God. I need all the wisdom and guidance You can spare. — Karen Witemeyer

I'd hate to be putting a bullet in a lawman, so I'd appreciate ye lowerin' yer weapon, sir. — Karen Witemeyer

His timing might not be our timing, but it is always perfect. — Karen Witemeyer

His gaze slid toward the back of the sanctuary and collided with Joanna, standing silently in the doorway. You ... Crockett's voice tapered off.
For a moment, all he could do was stare. Her rapt attention, the tiny smile that brought into relief the freckles dusting her cheekbones, the way the light passed through the doorway behind her to see her hair ablaze beneath the prim straw bonnet she wore. Yet it was her inner light that captured him the most. The serenity of her features. The glow in her blue eyes. This was a woman of authentic spirituality. No wonder the Master Weaver had chosen her to be the central thread to anchor his new tapestry. — Karen Witemeyer

God, forgive me for my impatience. I saw what I thought I wanted, and when you made no move to give it to me, I took matters into my own hands. I wasn't content, and I didn't trust you enough to wait." She inhaled a shaky breath. "I've really made a mess of things, haven't I? I need you more than ever, now. Show me where to go, what to do. And please give me enough faith to follow you even when I can't see where the path is leading. In the name of Jesus, amen. — Karen Witemeyer

As she slipped back into the house, Travis mumbled, "It's about time." Everett Hayes had the gall to wink at him. "Better get used to it, Archer. Things are never the same after you install a woman in your house." "That is true," the parson said as he pushed up out of his chair, his expression slightly censorious as he glanced at Everett. "But if the Lord is installed, as well, the changes can bring blessing to a man." He shifted his attention and peered at Travis. "Marriage is a sacred union, son, and not something to dread. As Ecclesiastes says, 'Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. . . . A threefold cord is not quickly broken.' Keep God woven into your relationship and this union will make you stronger. But if you treat it as a burden, it will become one. — Karen Witemeyer

She glimpsed Levi cutting through the crowd to get to her. Smoothing her hair and finding a smile, she greeted him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Would you like a piece of cake?" Levi peered down at her, concern lining his face. "Are you all right?" "Yes, of course. I'm fine." She tugged on her sleeve as if it could conceal the evidence of the sheriff's touch and reached for a clean plate. "You should try some of Chloe's lemon pound cake. It's delicious." Levi stroked her arm, his caress a soothing balm after the sheriff's manhandling. "Eden, look at me." She did, and all pretense fell away. "Did he hurt you?" "No." Eden sighed. — Karen Witemeyer

Mollie blushed as Mr. Walters released his hold on Jacob in order to embrace her in an enthusiastic hug. Jacob frowned at the sight of another man's arms around his woman, but it was only right that she receive credit for the part she'd played. His woman. Had he really just labeled her as such? It seemed odd yet so very, very right. What also felt very, very right was getting Trent Walters's arms away from Mollie. — Karen Witemeyer

Your kite, milady?"
She curtsied and handed it to him. "Why, thank you, Sir Tucker. Take care, though. The fabric is wont to snag. — Karen Witemeyer

That's it!" "Anton," her mother gasped. "You startled me." "Sorry, my love." Papa patted her hand as she returned to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. "But I've just had the most astounding idea." "What is it?" The question rang simultaneously from both Nicole and her mother. Her papa smiled. A scheming, devilish, piratical smile that one would expect to see right before a blade ran him through. Nicole flopped onto the divan. "Nicki's going to take a little trip to New Orleans." "But why?" Maman asked. "She just got home." Papa rubbed his palms against his thighs in anticipation. "Don't you see? It will solve everything. It will keep Nicki away from Jenkins and secure the future of Renard Shipping at the same time." "How?" Nicole ventured, somehow certain she'd not like the answer. Her papa's grin confirmed it. "By giving me the next best thing to a son." "And that is . . . ?" her mother prompted. "A son-in-law. — Karen Witemeyer

Scripture instructs God's people to give our best to whatever task we turn our hands to, to conduct ourselves as if we work for the Lord himself, not for man. — Karen Witemeyer

I think you made your opinion clear already. Go home, Eden. And don't worry. I won't bother you anymore." He unlaced his arms and turned away to pick up a new log. "But I want you to bother me! — Karen Witemeyer

Meredith bundled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders before ducking her head and scurrying past his brother. Travis knew he probably looked like a lovesick pup just standing there watching her go, but he didn't care. Crockett even came into the room and stared into the newly emptied hall alongside him, obviously trying to taunt him out of his stupor. "So when are you finally going to tell her that you're insanely in love with her?" Crockett asked, only a hint of teasing in his voice. Travis rubbed a hand over his whiskery jaw, reaching his fingers up to the place she had kissed. "Tonight. Definitely tonight. — Karen Witemeyer

The woman might think God spared his life in part so he could be here when she found herself in desperate need of employment, but he knew the truth. God had not brought Nicole to Oakhaven for a job. He'd brought her here to pull the thorn out of a stubborn bear of a man's paw so that he could finally start to heal. And something told him if he allowed her to leave him, an even larger thorn would take its place. One from which he might never recover. — Karen Witemeyer

You're wrong about one thing, though," she said. Daniel looked quizzically at her. "What?" Etta reached up to his brow and brushed his hair off his forehead with a gentle caress that set his blood to pumping. Then she tilted her head back and met his gaze. "You are a hero. My hero." And — Karen Witemeyer

Honey, if the man is that dense, you can drag that cot he been sleepin' on into your room, nab his clothes, and lay in wait for him. When he comes lookin' for his things, lock the door and settle the matter once and for all. — Karen Witemeyer

With no sums to keep his conscience at bay, the black book loomed large, creeping into his line of sight.
He scanned the room for something else to do. The harness still needed work. And he'd been meaning to fix that rickety shelf since last month. The pipe on his potbellied stove was dented. The windowsill needed dusting.
Dusting?
J.T. braced his arms on the desk and pressed his forehead into the heels of his hands. — Karen Witemeyer

His gut clenched. He'd thought she was different. Thought she appreciated the man he was, not the out-of-all-proportion legend the sensationalists depicted. Was that what she wanted? Some larger-than-life hero? If so, he didn't stand a chance. She'd never be satisfied with a humble mule trainer. He'd worked hard to put life as a bounty hunter behind him. He wouldn't be that man again. Not even for her. — Karen Witemeyer

But when you continue clinging to your feelings of guilt, this God-given mission becomes nothing more than self-imposed penance. — Karen Witemeyer

She glanced at him and winked. Gideon found himself enchanted all over again. Her clothes might be a wrinkled, mismatched mess, and strands of her hair might be sticking out at odd angles from the knot at her neck, but when he looked at her, he saw a princess. Now he just had to convince her to marry him. — Karen Witemeyer

Levi's gaze sought out Miss Spencer. Eden. All she had to do was smile to release those little frissons of lightning in him.
As that thought crossed his mind, she glanced up, and Levi realized he was wrong. She didn't have to smile. All she had to do was look at him.
Heaven help him. He was in bad. — Karen Witemeyer

The things which are impossible with men are possible with God. — Karen Witemeyer

One day I'm going to catch you in a full-blown grin, Mr.Tucker," she said, wagging a finger at him, "and when I do, watch out because I'm going to crow in victory." "We all need goals in life, Miss Richards." J.T. swung two boards up onto his shoulder and peered down at her. "Mine's to get this stuff delivered before the first snow falls. You think I got a chance at making that happen? — Karen Witemeyer

If you can't see the good man he is, you need to unscrew them eyeballs of yours and try on a different pair. — Karen Witemeyer

Ye comin'?" Ben shook his head. "Nope. I'm just the driver. Ms. Adams owns the shop. She makes all the buyin' decisions." McPhearson nodded. "Seems my woman's determined to make a few buyin' decisions of her own." He shrugged. "I'll have to keep an eye on her. If Hazel has her way, she'll probably trade away me favorite chair. Finally got the thing fittin' me backside just the way I like it." "Colin McPhearson," his wife scolded from the porch, where she and Tori had paused to eavesdrop on the men's conversation. "No one in their right mind would take that lumpy, broken-down thing. There's a better chance of me breaking that old chair up for kindling than there is of a sensible woman like Mrs. Adams taking it in trade." "Don't be criticizing me chair, woman," McPhearson blustered, raising his voice but putting no real heat behind the words as he stomped the rest of the way across the yard. Ben — Karen Witemeyer

away from Eden. She's mine. — Karen Witemeyer

Drop the bat, mister, or I'll fill you so full of lead the undertaker will charge double to bury you! — Karen Witemeyer

Hanging back to get her reaction under control, she wiped her knife on the edge of her petticoat, then angled her body away so she could raise her skirts enough to slip the knife into its sheath, taking care not to drop the pilfered food cradled in her other arm. When she straightened, she expected Darius and Jacob to be well ahead but instead found her companions only a few yards away, their far-too-curious eyes riveted on her. "So that's where you keep it." Darius's attention dropped to a spot halfway down her skirt. "I had wondered." Nicole lifted her chin. "Yes, well, I tried carrying it around in one of those lacy little reticules, but it kept getting tangled in the ribbons. Not very practical." Keeping her eyes averted from Darius's face, she marched past the gawkers and headed for the house. — Karen Witemeyer

I'm not going anywhere, dear heart. I have a happy ending to write with you." Addie stiffened. "You heard that?" she muttered against his chest. Gideon chuckled, his joy too large to contain. He pulled back just enough to see her face. "Yes, I did, my little dreamer. And I plan to fulfill that duty to the best of my ability. — Karen Witemeyer

Travis, I love you with all of my being, but I love Cassie, too. And right now she needs me more than you do. Forgive me. Meri She loved him. The wonder of the statement seeped into him, but the joy that should have accompanied the knowledge faded beneath his growing frustration and fear. How could she possibly think that anyone needed her more than he did? She was his heart, his very life. If anything happened to her . . . Travis tore the top page from the tablet and hardened his jaw. He'd just have to make sure nothing did happen. After all, if a wife was going to tell her husband she loved him, she ought to do it in person. And he aimed to see that she did precisely that. Right after he kissed the living fire out of her and showed her exactly how much he truly needed her. — Karen Witemeyer

He'd listened to enough half-truths and outright lies from the outlaws he'd collected bounties on not to notice the slight hesitations in her speech or the exaggerated casualness of her posture. The woman was up to something. Heeding — Karen Witemeyer

She had curled up with those books on more than one occasion, and yes, she had dreamt of a handsome, red-haired man of action, but it hadn't been Dead-Eye Dan, drat it all. She'd dreamt of Daniel Barrett, the man who worked her father's cattle, who trained the finest mules in the county, and whose sky-blue eyes could melt her heart with a single glance. Daniel Barrett had stolen her heart before she'd ever even heard of Dead-Eye Dan. I — Karen Witemeyer

In the last three years, he'd met many women.Young. Old. Pretty. Plain. Devout. Flirtatious. After living only among men for years,he found he enjoyed the company of women.Their gracious manners.Their gentle ways.Their lovely figures. But never had he felt anything deeper than a surface admiration. Perhaps because he'd been so focused on his training.Yet only after a handful of minutes, Joanna Robbins had touched something deep inside him, as only a kindred spirit could do.
She'd experienced the Lord's call on her life as surely as he had.And while he'd been called to minister to many, she'd been called for one. Who was he to say her calling any less significant than his own? In fact her dedication to the one in her care humbled him, gave him a perspective he'd been lacking. In other circumstances,he could easily imagine the two of them becoming friends. Maybe after he settled in Brenham, he could write to her, encourage her. — Karen Witemeyer

I'd like to build a house there someday. One with a big plate-glass window in the front so I can sip my tea and watch the flowers grow. Eden leaned into his side as she stepped around a hole dug by a ground squirrel or some other burrowing creature, and Levi couldn't help but picture himself behind that same window, moving up behind Eden to touch his lips to the sensitive skin along her neck. She'd smile and ask about his day. He'd wrap his arms around her and say that the best part of it was coming home. Then perhaps a little girl with reddish curls and moss-green eyes would run into the room, call him Daddy, and latch on to his leg. He'd swing her high into the air and laugh at her delighted squeals. — Karen Witemeyer

The Lord probably didn't appreciate her feigning nearsightedness in order to repeatedly lean into her husband when she should've been concentrating on the meaning behind the hymn she was singing. — Karen Witemeyer

And therein lay the crux of her problem. She didn't trust God to direct her steps. When trouble loomed, she altered her course, convincing herself she was displaying wisdom and the courage of her convictions. Yet in actuality, she was surrendering to fear, letting it control her in place of the Lord's hand — Karen Witemeyer

I . . . uh . . . thinking about the time you got mad at me for . . . trampling that cockroach. Then remembered how you lit into Goodwin with that bat. I found it funny. — Karen Witemeyer

Watching the Archer brothers eat was like watching a twister blow through the room. Meredith sat with her elbows tucked close to her side, afraid to do more than occasionally raise her fork to her mouth for fear of being rammed by a reaching arm or thumped by a tossed biscuit. The venison steak was overdone, the beans gluey, and the biscuits were dry as unbuttered toast, yet the Archers attacked their food like a pack of dogs fighting over a fresh kill. No one spoke. They just ate. — Karen Witemeyer

The friendly, welcoming smiles she had grown to love still made her breath catch, but he'd added a new weapon to his arsenal. A secret, intimate smile that reminded her of warm kisses and strong arms. It never failed to flush her cheeks and flutter her stomach. The man was an invalid in a dressing gown convalescing amid a mound of cushions on the parlor settee; yet when he smiled at her like that, he became masculinity personified. Gideon had a dash of the rogue in him. And Adelaide adored him for it. — Karen Witemeyer

Only a master weaver could intertwine dark and light threads in such a way that all one saw was beauty when looking back at the finished tapestry. — Karen Witemeyer

You've a good heart,Joanna Robbins,he said from his perch on the wagon seat. It's easy to see why Jackson admires you. — Karen Witemeyer

Ever since she'd come home from school three years ago, she'd been burrowing under his skin, itching like a host of chigger bites. He kept telling himself not to scratch, but invariably he did anyway, fool that he was. And here he was scratching again, thinking about her when he should be focused on the work at hand. He — Karen Witemeyer

Archers stood together, no matter what. Not even frilly-smelling laundry could tear them apart. — Karen Witemeyer

I dreamed o' ye, lass, down in that pit. I dreamed . . . and I promised meself that if the Almighty saw fit to spare me sorry hide, that I'd be asking a favor of ye the moment I saw yer bonny face." Chloe lifted Duncan's filthy hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I'd do anything for you, Duncan. Anything." "Are ye sure, lass?" He paused, staring up at her. "I'm sure." "Good. 'Cause I want ye to let me give ye a last name. . . . Mine. — Karen Witemeyer

You didn't have to say it. It's written all over your face. You think more of that oversized iron-bender than you do of me. — Karen Witemeyer

She couldn't tell him the truth - that she was here to wrangle a proposal out of him. How desperate would that make her look? Besides, no man wanted to think he was being manipulated into marriage. He wanted to be the pursuer, the one in control. She was simply creating opportunities in which that pursuit might occur. No, — Karen Witemeyer

Oh, Levi. How glorious! Look at all the bluebonnets. Have you ever seen anything more stunning?" "Only you. — Karen Witemeyer

Forgive yourself for the child you were unable to save, Darius, and praise God for the many who are alive today because of your actions. — Karen Witemeyer

He tried to smile, but his bloodied lip wouldn't do more than twitch. "Want to tell you . . . got interrupted . . ." His eyelid drooped, and his words drifted away. Eden's chest throbbed. "You can tell me later," she assured him, stuffing down her disappointment while her fingers brushed the hair at the top of his head. "It's all right to rest." "No . . . tell you . . . now." His words were so low they were hard to make out. Eden leaned closer. Levi's languid eyelid slowly rolled upward. "Love . . . you. — Karen Witemeyer

Do I really have to face him again, Travis? The man will be insufferable after besting me as he did." Travis grinned and grabbed up the empty basket. "You can handle him. I've got faith in you." He held his hand out to her after she finished pinning a second petticoat to the line. She glanced uncertainly at his offering, then slipped her palm into his. On impulse, he tugged her arm, causing her to stumble into him. "We're Archers, Meri," he murmured as he tucked her briefly against his chest. "We can face anything if we do it together. — Karen Witemeyer

Not that this woman would need chains to capture a man's attention under normal circumstances. Her milky skin,soft eyes,and that mad riot of reddish-gold corkscrew curls that gave her a pixie-like appearance would see to the task. — Karen Witemeyer

Unless he'd missed is guess, Miss Joanna Robbins possessed the soul of a missionary. How that had come to be when she'd been raised by an outlaw and his gang, Crockett couldn't fathom. Yet he sensed her passion. Respected it. He'd not belittle her dream. — Karen Witemeyer

He was halfway to the house, thinking to set the cabbage inside the kitchen door,when a brown blur thundered past him.
Joanna Robbins tore out of the barn astride a magnificent chestnut quarter horse. She leaned forward in the saddle,hat flopping against her back, hair streaming out behind her in a wild curly mass as she urged her mount to a full-out gallop. Unable to do anything but stare, Crockett stood dumbstruck as she raced past.
She was the most amazing horsewoman he'd ever seen. Joanna Robbins. The shy creature who claimed painting and reading were her favorite pastimes had just bolted across the yard like a seasoned jockey atop Thoroughbred. She might have inherited her mother's grace and manners, but the woman rode like her outlaw father.Maybe better. — Karen Witemeyer

His gaze trailed over her face, memorizing each line and curve. She'd been his wife for little more than a fortnight, but she owned his heart. If anything happened to her, he'd be lost. — Karen Witemeyer

I also wrote them about you." His blue gaze bored into her with paralyzing force. She couldn't move. Couldn't flee. Could only stare at the social travesty of his ungroomed features - the scruffy half beard shadowing his jaw, the too-long hair falling over his forehead - and feel her heart beat with love for this unconventional man. Darius's grip softened on her wrist until his fingers were tracing tiny circles over the sensitive skin. "I told them that I had met a woman who wasn't afraid to stand toe-to-toe with me. A woman who had seen my flaws and learned my darkest secrets, yet didn't immediately run for the hills." His self-deprecating chuckle coaxed a reluctant smile from her, the sound soothing the sharp edges of her turmoil. "I told them how this woman seemed instinctively to know when to comfort and when to confront, and how I was better with her in my life than I'd ever been on my own. — Karen Witemeyer

No matter how many precautions we take, none of us are truly in control. Only God can claim that kind of authority. All we can do is use the good sense he provides and trust him to guide us. — Karen Witemeyer

God desires his people to be abounding in love and good works. To be people of integrity and honor. People who reflect his character. But we are human - sinful people capable of evil deeds. — Karen Witemeyer

Tori chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye to the man at her side. His attention appeared riveted to the road in front of them. Good. He probably didn't even notice. His head suddenly swiveled her way as if he sensed her gaze. He winked at her. Winked! "I gotta say your stamina is impressive." His voice held a warm, teasing lilt. "I didn't think you'd make it past Mrs. Cooper's chicken farm with that iron-poker spine, and here you lasted three times as long." Tori stiffened, then realized the irony of the action and settled for pursing her lips instead. "I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about." Mr. Porter chuckled. "And here I'd always thought you the honest type." Tori — Karen Witemeyer

No, she'd spent the last five years begging the Lord to help her find contentment in her spinster status. And he'd been faithful. She had her library, her Ladies Aid work, the children's reading hour. She could come and go as she pleased, spend her money as she deemed fit, all without the hassle of first gaining a man's permission. And if the loneliness sometimes ate away at her like water poured on a sugarloaf ... ? Well, God had seen her through the last five years. She figured he could be depended upon to see her through the next fifty. — Karen Witemeyer

Yet it was her inner light that captured him most. — Karen Witemeyer

He glanced down at his naked chest. "Where's my shirt?" Cheeks heating, Tori reached behind him and snagged the dangling shirt sleeve and held it open for him to push his left arm through. When she finally found the wherewithal to look him in the face again, the teasing look in his pain-filled eyes nearly toppled her onto her backside. "Knew you liked my muscles." Of all the . . . Oh, who was she kidding? She did like his muscles. Though they both knew that had nothing to do with his shirt being undone. "Modesty is obviously not one of your virtues." She'd tried to make the statement sound prim, but it filtered through her smile and came out sounding flirtatious instead. Her. Flirtatious. Good grief. Head injuries must be contagious. Offering — Karen Witemeyer

He could fit what he knew about women in a bullet casing and still have room for the gunpowder. — Karen Witemeyer

She brought the bite to her mouth and chewed slowly, as if savoring the sweet. But he knew better. She was stalling. Using the tart as an excuse to occupy her mouth so she couldn't answer his questions. Darius tugged her plate out of reach before she could stab a second bite. "Nicole." His use of her given name had the desired effect. Her chin jerked up and her eyes widened as she scanned his face. "Your safety is not a trifling matter." The urge to cover her hand with his speared through him, but he resisted, not knowing how she'd interpret such a gesture. Unsure, as well, how he'd want her to interpret it. "While you are at Oakhaven, you are under my protection. Whatever you are running away from - " "I'm not running away." Her eyes sparked, and she visibly bristled as if he'd offended her. "I'm simply taking care of an . . . an errand for my father. It requires a bit of secrecy, is all, and there are competitors who wish to . . . interfere. — Karen Witemeyer

You need not treat me like a child, sir. I am perfectly capable of navigating this staircase on my own."
He snorted.
Her nostrils flared. "I promise not to ask you to catch me again, all right? Now stop scowling."
Of course he did no such thing. — Karen Witemeyer

She leaned closer and gently took his face into her hands. His rugged, beautiful face. "Thank you," she said, her voice suddenly growing husky as moisture collected at the back of her throat. "Thank you for saving my son." She touched her lips to his bandage-covered forehead. "You're the best man I've ever known, Benjamin Porter. And I'm frightened by how much you are coming to mean to me." "Don't be afraid, Tori." The low mumble of words brought her head up like a shot. "Ben?" His mouth quirked a half smile even as his eyes fluttered open. "I like hearing you say my name." Never — Karen Witemeyer

Charlotte dropped her gaze to her feet. You're the most heroic man I've ever met, Stone Hammond. Slowly she lifted her face. I owe you everything. — Karen Witemeyer

Dan bit back a growl. No smooth-talking, barely-shaving stripling was going to charm her away. She needed a mature man, one with the skills and experience to protect her, provide for her. Hands balled into fists, Dan inhaled through his nose in an effort to stem the rising tide of jealousy that nearly had him shouting at her again. Maybe he shouldn't be in such a hurry to send her back to Richland. Where younger men named Clarence waited in the wings. — Karen Witemeyer

All this time she'd thought it God's will that she be a spinster. She had grown content with that expectation, taking satisfaction in the wisdom she'd gained through her experience with Stephen. No man would dupe her again. But what if living alone was never part of God's plan for her? What if she chose that life because it was safe - because she was afraid? — Karen Witemeyer

She'd not allow Daniel Barrett to escape her so easily. She'd placed a bounty on his heart, and she intended to collect. — Karen Witemeyer