Books by Karen Witemeyer

A Tailor-Made Bride
Head in the Clouds
To Win Her Heart
Short-Straw Bride
Stealing the Preacher
Full Steam Ahead
A Worthy Pursuit
No Other Will Do
Heart on the Line
More Than Meets the Eye
More Than Words Can Say

Novellas
A Cowboy Unmatched from A Match Made
in Texas: A Novella Collection

Love on the Mend: A Full Steam Ahead Novella

from With All My Heart Romance Collection

The Husband Maneuver: A Worthy Pursuit Novella from

With This Ring? A Novella Collection of Proposals Gone Awry

Worth the Wait: A Ladies of Harper’s Station

Novella from All My Tomorrows: Three Historical
Romance Novellas of Everlasting Love

The Love Knot: A Ladies of Harper’s Station Novella from

Hearts Entwined: A Historical Romance Novella Collection

Gift of the Heart from The Christmas Heirloom:

Four Holiday Novellas of Love Through the Generations

More Than a Pretty Face: A Patchwork Family Novella

from Serving Up Love: A Harvey House Brides Collection

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group © 2019 used by permission

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 More THAN
WORDS CAN Say

K A R EN W ITEMEYER

5
More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer
Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group © 2019 used by permission

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on-

© 2019 by Karen M. Witemeyer

Published by Bethany House Publishers

11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com

Bethany House Publishers is a division of

Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, pho-
tocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only
exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Witemeyer, Karen, author.
Title: More than words can say / Karen Witemeyer.
Description: Bloomington, Minnesota : Bethany House Publishers, [2019]
Identifiers: LCCN 2018058133| ISBN 9780764232190 (trade paper) | ISBN
9780764234118 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781493418602 (ebook)
Subjects: | GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3623.I864 M68 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018058133

Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products
of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

Author is represented by the Books & Such Literary Agency.

19 20 21 22 23 24 25 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 To Peter.

You’re the quiet one of the family, but you have a

huge heart when it comes to connecting with others.
I admire the young man you already are, and I am
enjoying the journey of watching God transform you
into the mature man of faith He’s designed you to
be. You make your mama proud!

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 But as for you, ye thought evil against me;
but God meant it unto good.
—Genesis 50:20

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 CHAPTER

May 1896—Honey Grove, TX

“The council has denied your appeal, Miss Kemp.” Mayor Long-
fellow delivered the blow with a finality that threatened to buckle
Abigail’s knees.
His aldermen, who had risen to their feet when she entered
the City Hall meeting room, shifted around the large table until
they all stood on one side, leaving her alone on the other. Some
of the more pompous officials nodded in solemn agreement with
the mayor’s pronouncement. Others wore more sympathetic
expressions. One or two even cast her apologetic glances. A
timid fellow in the back avoided her gaze entirely.
Despite the displays of regret, however, none of them spoke
up against the injustice being done.
“This isn’t right.” Abigail Kemp, her legs wobbling, strode
up to the table and pressed her hands into the polished oak
surface next to the stack of ledgers she’d left them to review and
the business plan she’d written to demonstrate her capability.
“I’ve been running the Taste of Heaven Bakery on my own for
more than a year, ever since my father took ill. In that time,

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 More Than Words Can Say

the bakery has earned a profit every quarter.” She grabbed the
top ledger and opened it to a middle page, jabbing her finger
at the numbers that proved her words true. “We pay our taxes
on time and support all civic activities on the town square. You
have no right to take away my bakery.”
“No one is doubting your abilities, Miss Kemp,” the mayor
said as he rounded the table. His voice was calm, his smile
friendly, if a tad condescending.
Feeling like a wounded deer facing down a pack of wolves,
Abigail straightened and threw her shoulders back to regain
every inch of her five foot, six-inch stature.
Chester Longfellow bared no fangs, however. Neither did he
lunge for her jugular. He simply closed the cover of her ledger
and stacked it neatly atop the other evidence she’d provided
in support of her appeal. “I’m afraid the law is the law, Miss
Kemp.” He picked up her papers and held them out to her. “We
consulted Judge Hardcastle for his recommendation, and the
judge concurred. The ordinance must be upheld.”
Abigail made no move to take her ledgers. To do so would
be to concede defeat, and she wasn’t done fighting. Not when
her livelihood was at stake. If she lost the bakery, she’d have no
means of providing for her sister. Besides, the Taste of Heaven
was her family’s legacy. Her legacy now.
“That ordinance is completely outdated and should have
been repealed years—decades—ago. The idea that women be
forbidden from owning business property within the city limits
is ridiculous. There are dozens of women successfully running
their own enterprises in town. Dora Patteson’s millinery shop.
Judith Kell’s laundry. Norma Wilson’s dressmaking—”
“Yes, we are aware,” Mayor Longfellow interrupted. “You’ve
already argued this point, Miss Kemp, and rehashing it now
will not gain you any benefit. The ladies you mention all rent

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 KAREN WITEMEYER

their space from male property owners. They don’t own their
businesses outright. When you inherited the Taste of Heaven
following your father’s death, you became a business owner
and therefore have been operating these last several months in
violation of the laws of this city. We extended grace in giving
you time to grieve your father before confronting you on this
issue, but I’m afraid we can postpone no longer.” He extended
the ledgers again, nearly prodding her midsection with them.
With no choice but to accept them, she folded the books
against her chest but lifted her chin in silent defiance. She would
not bow her head in defeat. Not today. Not ever.
Mayor Longfellow showed no sign of being impressed by her
fighting spirit. His bland expression assured that no matter her
opinion, the matter was settled. “You have until the end of the
month to either put your property up for sale or find a financial
backer to serve as a silent partner.”
Abigail set her jaw. No, she had until the end of the month
to construct and execute a third option, because neither of the
ones he’d presented were acceptable.
Two weeks didn’t give her much time, but she was no stranger
to working under pressure. She’d find a way around this dis-
criminatory ordinance. These stuffy male councilmen might
want to hold her down, but like a well-made bread dough, she
planned to rise to the occasion.

Abigail strode away from City Hall on a full head of steam.

Her face must have given away her mood, for any pedestrians
she encountered along her path gave her a wide berth. None
made an effort to approach or even wave at her. None, save the
person she least wanted to see.
“Afternoon, Miss Kemp.” A thin man approached from the

More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 More Than Words Can Say

opposite direction, his gaze fixed on her as if she were his des-
tination and not simply an acquaintance met along the way.
Abigail gritted her teeth. A smile was out of the question,
but she managed a slight dip of her head to the drugstore owner
who had been trying to convince the Kemps to sell him their
property ever since her father took ill.
“Mr. Gerard.” Her steps did not slow. In fact, she picked
up her pace as she brushed past him. It might not be precisely
polite, but she’d been dictated to enough for one day and feared
what might happen if Samson Gerard chose this moment to
proposition her again.
He proved dauntless in his pursuit, however, for after tipping
his bowler hat, he immediately pivoted and matched his stride
to hers. His infuriatingly long-legged gait made it impossible
for her to outdistance him without running.
“I wondered if I might have a word,” he said.
Abigail kept her gaze focused on the street in front of her,
doing everything in her power to discourage this conversation.
“I’m afraid this is not a good time, sir. As you can see, I’m in
a bit of a hurry.”
“Yes, your pace is rather, um, brisk, but I believe I can keep
up. No need to slow on my account.”
Breaking into a run was growing more tempting by the mo-
ment. Yes, she’d make a spectacle of herself, but the chances of
Mr. Gerard joining her in such a display were exceedingly slim.
Unfortunately, while working in a bakery all day gave one prodi-
giously strong fingers, wrists, and forearms, it did little for the
legs or lungs. She could already feel perspiration gathering on
her upper lip, and her chest had begun to heave ever so slightly.
Yet the sooner she reached the bakery, the sooner she could
be rid of this man. So she pressed on, doing her best not to huff
when she asked, “What do you want, Mr. Gerard?”

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More Than Words Can Say • Karen Witemeyer

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 KAREN WITEMEYER

“Your building, of course.”

That brought her up short.
Abigail halted and spun to face him. His smug smile rankled,
but it was the calculating gleam in his eye that put her on her
guard. “What did you say?”
He shrugged and kept on smiling, as if unaware of the dag-
gers he tossed at her heart. “I want your building. That can’t be
a surprise to you. Perhaps I stated my intention a tad bluntly,
but in deference to your apparently tight schedule, I decided
to omit the standard niceties and cut to the chase. My offer to
buy still stands. My price is fair and will allow you to set up
shop in another town that doesn’t have such strict ordinance
codes.”
Ordinance codes? He knew about the appeal. About the
decision. But how?
Abigail narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to keep any
passersby from overhearing. “You put the council up to this,
didn’t you? Dug up this obsolete ordinance about women not
owning businesses and somehow persuaded them to enforce
it. Just so you can get your hands on my shop. Well, I promise
you, Mr. Gerard, that if I sell, it won’t be to you.”
“Careful where you fling those unfounded accusations, Miss
Kemp.” He chuckled, though no levity softened his gaze. He
placed his hand over his heart and sketched a slight bow. “I
assure you that I had nothing to do with uncovering that or-
dinance. In truth, I didn’t even know it existed. Not that I’m
sorry it came up, of course. Whoever dug up that old law did
me a great service.”
Samson Gerard was a slug, but Abigail had to admit that he’d
always been aboveboard in dealing with both her and her father.
Yes, he coveted their prime real estate on the town square and
made no secret of that fact. Yet theirs wasn’t the only business

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 More Than Words Can Say

he’d sought to buy out. Many of her neighbors had received

similar offers.
But if he hadn’t targeted her with this obscure law, who had?
The mayor might have made it sound like they had given her
time to grieve before bringing the issue forward, but the more
likely scenario was that no one recalled the ordinance’s exis-
tence until someone brought it to the council’s attention. That
someone could have been Mr. Gerard, but that idea didn’t sit
as well with her now as it had a moment ago.
“How did you know about the council’s decision?” she chal-
lenged, not quite ready to deem him innocent. “I just came
from meeting with them. The rumor mill works fast in Honey
Grove, but not that fast.”
“You forget that my wife’s father is an alderman. He knows
of my interest in your property and informed me of the coun-
cil’s decision ahead of time. He knew your appeal would be
denied. The law was too clear to argue. So he told me the date
and time of your hearing so I might be the first to offer a solu-
tion to your problem.”
“You are not the solution to my problem, because I won’t
be selling.”
“You will if you don’t find a financial backer.” Did he really
have to look so sure of her demise? It was hard enough to hold
on to hope amid her own doubts without someone else shovel-
ing skepticism on her head. “And no man in town will invest
in a business without being given a say in how to run it. I may
not know you well, Miss Kemp, but you’ve proven to have a
stubborn streak—one that would surely irritate any business
partner you might acquire. Knock heads on too many issues,
and you’ll find yourself on the losing end of a dissolved part-
nership, which would leave you without a building altogether.
Once you’re out of the way, your partner—whose name will be

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 KAREN WITEMEYER

on the deed to your property—will be clear to sell. I’ll make him

the same offer I’ve made to you, and my guess is he’ll accept.
So your choice is to take my money now, or watch me give it to
someone else in a few months. Either way, you end up without
a storefront. You can ensure you have the funds necessary to
start over elsewhere if you deal with me, or roll the dice on a
financial backer and risk losing everything your father built.
The wise choice is clear.”
Clear to him, maybe, but she wasn’t ready to concede. Not
yet.
“You are entitled to your opinion, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse
me.” Abigail turned away from the irritating man and resumed
her trek to the bakery, wishing she could leave all her problems
behind so easily.
Mr. Gerard didn’t follow, but he did call after her. “Unless
you have a secret male relative lying around who will stand up
for you, Miss Kemp, my offer is the best you’re going to get.”
Abigail stiffened but kept walking. If she had a male relative,
she wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place, because
her father would have willed the bakery to him. He’d never
thought a daughter good enough to carry on the family business.
She stewed over that regret for a moment or two, but as she
let go of the old hurt, it fell into fertile soil and germinated an
idea. An idea so crazy it just might work.
A smile creased her face. Only God could bring good out of
a meeting with Samson Gerard. He might be a slug, but he’d
given her a strategy. One that, if it worked, would give her father
the male heir he’d always wanted.

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