High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart)

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High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) Page 28

by Lynnette Bonner


  She started toward him, but just then Mama clutched her arm with a demand to know everything that had happened to Nicki since she’d last seen her. Nicki turned to answer the barrage of questions. She could talk to Jason later. For now, she was thankful to have her family here.

  The day went quickly after that. With so many people there to help, the roof was completed before the last rays of the sun disappeared below the horizon. Then everyone moved inside the newly roofed structure for the dancing that was to follow.

  Men brought forth fiddles and harmonicas and guitars and the music began.

  Women lifted their skirts and sashayed to the lively tune, petticoats flashing white lace in the lamplight.

  Janice passed by in a splash of jade, twirling in the arms of Jacob, one of Nicki’s new ranch hands. Janice’s mouth moved a mile a minute and Jacob listened so raptly that he missed a beat and stepped on her toes. Nicki grinned as they both laughed, and Janice limped off the dance floor to sink onto a barrel, Jacob right by her side.

  Nicki tucked her hands behind her back and leaned against one wall, her mother and sisters flanking her. Sawyer leaned against her legs and clapped his tiny hands totally off-beat to the music. Nicki grinned, loving the sight of him enjoying the music.

  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, wondering how it was possible to have so much joy bubbling up inside her. She listened to the sounds of life flowing all around her and almost felt giddy from the sheer blessing of it.

  Tanner, the ranch hand Jason had sent to California to find her family, stopped before them and asked Rosa if she would dance with him. Juna giggled as Rosa agreed, and the couple moved out onto the dance floor. To her right, Mama sighed and Nicki smiled.

  Someone cleared their throat in front of her, and she opened her eyes to find Jason. Her heart skipped a beat. The bullet scratch along his jawline had healed, but there was still a scar there. She knew it would fade, but it would forever be there to remind her of all that he had done for her.

  His face serious, he studied her for a moment, then turned to look out over the dancers. “Could I talk to you for a minute outside?”

  Nicki’s throat constricted. After she had watched him read the letter, he had been quiet and pensive all day. She had talked to him several times. Even tried to coax a smile from him once, but always his face had remained serious, thoughtful. Why couldn’t he talk to her right here? There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read, and that scared her.

  A thought suddenly hit her. What if he wanted to leave? After all, he’d done what she hired him for. He’d gotten the ranch back on its feet, and she could take the reins from here. He’d done more than she hired him to do. He’d brought joy back into her life, made her last weeks bearable. What if the letter was an offer for a job somewhere else?

  Tilly stepped up beside them with Conner just behind her. She squatted down to Sawyer’s level. “Sawyer, do you want to come and dance with Conner and I?” She held her arms out to him, and he gladly reached up chubby arms to allow her to lift him. With a meaningful look from Nicki to the door, Tilly sauntered onto the dance floor with Conner’s hand at her back.

  Nicki turned back to Jason. His eyes were once more on her face, waiting for her reply.

  She couldn’t seem to form an answer. Her heart lodged in her throat making it hard to breathe.

  He arched his brow. Mama elbowed her.

  She wet her lips. “Si.”

  He seemed to release a breath and took her hand, leading her out into the dusky night.

  She followed him up the trail past the soddy and onto the ridge above. The music from the barn grew faint and blended in with the crickets and the bull frog that croaked nearby. Could she let him go if that was what he wanted? She inhaled slowly. He’d come to mean so much to her in such a short time.

  From the crest of the hill they could see the last rays of the sun caressing the sides of the Three Sisters, their snowy night-caps aglow with crimson. The sky behind them was fused with saffron, tangerine, and jade.

  Jason took in the sight for a moment in total silence as he interlaced his fingers with hers. He never took his eyes off the sunset. “Nicki…”

  She waited quietly, drinking in the beauty of the night.

  The silence stretched long, and she turned to study him. This brooding silence was not like him. She’d never seen him this way before. Something surely was wrong. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  His eyes turned back to study her face, and he stepped closer, wrapping one arm around her so that their interlaced fingers rested at the small of her back.

  Her confusion grew.

  “I got a letter today that made me realize I want to move on with my life, and I…”

  Blood drained from her face. He really was leaving.

  “Nicki.” He watched her intently, his free hand caressing the hair at her temple. His throat worked. “Will you marry me?”

  She gasped and felt her knees go weak.

  He grimaced and looked toward the mountains again. “I know. We haven’t known each other that long, and you’ve only been a widow for a short time. I’ve been talking myself in and out of asking you all day. I probably should have wait—”

  She covered his mouth with the fingers of her free hand, and his eyes snapped back to hers. She couldn’t hold her tears at bay. “I thought you were trying to work up the courage to tell me you were leaving.”

  He blinked.

  “What was in the letter?”

  “My cousin Sky and his wife, Brooke, just had a baby girl.” He kicked at the ground. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  She closed her eyes and let all the love she felt for this man pour into one little word. “Si.”

  Total silence greeted her.

  She opened her eyes.

  He wore a look of stunned confusion. “Yes, you are going to answer? Or yes, you will marry me?”

  She grinned. “I will marry you, Jason Jordan. Yes, yes, yes.”

  His face cleared. He let go of her hand and cupped her face, lacing his fingers back through her hair. A slow smile spread across his face. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”

  He dipped his head and his lips touched hers softly, like the caress of a butterfly’s wing. He eased back, but she leaned after him, unwilling to live with such a brief bit of bliss. Wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and pulling his head back down to hers, she whispered, “No pares todabia. Don’t stop yet.”

  A rumble escaped his chest and when his lips settled on hers once more, she felt a tremor race through him. He slid one hand down her back, tucking her firmly against him.

  She cupped his face, her thumbs caressing the corners of his mouth as he kissed her. Standing on tiptoe and leaning into the solid strength of him, she reveled at the love she felt for this man. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

  With a ragged breath he pulled away, looked at her, leaned back in, trailed a line of kisses from her mouth to her earlobe and then pulled her head to his chest and rested his chin on the top of her tangled hair.

  She pressed her ear against him, clutching handfuls of his shirt in her fists. She could hear the wild hammering of his heart…or was it hers?

  From this vantage point Nicki could see out over her ranch, their ranch.

  Smoke drifted lazily from the soddy chimney, a soft gray column against the dimming sky. Light spilled from the barn door in a happy golden rectangle, and laughter and music floated on the cooling air. Off to the right the milling herd of horses mingled, feet stomping and heads bobbing as if they themselves were dancing to the music.

  She sighed. So much had happened here in such a short time. So much death and destruction, but through it all, God had kept His promise to her. His promise to be a comfort to her. And much of that had come about because of the man holding her in his arms.

  “Jason?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I’m glad God sent you to
me. You have taken this valley of death,” she gestured to the spread stretched out before them, “and turned it into a haven for me.”

  He dropped a tender kiss against the top of her head, and Nicki closed her eyes, simply relaxing in the safety of his arms.

  Dear Reader,

  The saying is true that reality is stranger than fiction. Historical records show that the Ochoco Livestock Association was much more violent than I have depicted here. Most people of that day simply referred to them as “The Vigilantes.” Their desires were enforced upon the community with hemp rope and bullets. The Association’s mission was to keep the range free of settlers, and anyone who opposed them was in danger of losing their life. One man made the mistake of announcing that he’d found an underground river on his property. Since that was viewed as something that might attract settlers to the area he was “asked” to move on. Being a smart man, he did. Others who weren’t so lucky were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or were of the “wrong” lineage. For further information about this time of turmoil in Oregon’s history, I recommend Thunder Over the Ochoco—And the Juniper Trees Bore Fruit, by Gale Ontko.

  Also, of note is the fact that most of the terrible reign of The Vigilantes ended in 1884. Those who are history buffs, please forgive me for fudging the timeline of history to fit my story.

  Don’t Miss…

  He’s different from any man she’s ever known.

  However, she’s sworn never to risk her heart again.

  Idaho Territory,

  Brooke Baker, sold as a mail-order bride, looks to her future with dread, but firm resolve. If she survived Uncle Jackson, she can survive anyone.

  When Sky Jordan hears that his nefarious cousin has sent for a mail-order bride, he knows he has to prevent the marriage. No woman deserves to be left to that fate. Still, he’s as surprised as anyone to find himself standing next to her before the minister.

  A thirsty soul. Alluring hope. An Oasis of love.

  Step into a day when outlaws ran free, the land was wild, and guns blazed at the drop of a hat.

  www.lynnettebonner.com

  To purchase Rocky Mountain Oasis click here.

  What People Are Saying About

  Rocky Mountain Oasis

  The perfect blend of suspense, drama, and romance. Best keep your eyes on Lynnette Bonner. She’s a gifted storyteller.

  —SHARLENE MACLAREN, Through Every Storm, Long Journey Home, Little Hickman Creek series, The Daughters of Jacob Kane series

  A tale with a unique twist that keeps your attention from the front cover to the back. Based upon actual events, people, and places, this story will linger with you long after you’ve read the last line.

  —BRUCE JUDISCH, Katia, A Prophet’s Tale series

  A delightful step back into the Wild West. A touching, fulfilling, strong message of redemption.

  —L.D. ALFORD, Centurion, Aegypt, The Chronicles of the Dragon and the Fox series

  Full of wonderful scenery, excellent character development, and intense emotion. I read many books a week and am happy to say I will be reading this book over and over. The message is simply STUPENDOUS. I loved every minute of it and was quite sad when it was over.

  —ANNDRA, Amazon reader

  I love this story. I couldn’t put it down. I kept it in my hands until I was done. The story line was well-written, and the use of historical facts made the story all the more fascinating for me. Thanks for such a great book! I can’t wait for the next one!

  —KRISTA, Amazon reader

  I enjoyed every word of Rocky Mountain Oasis! I really related to Brooke’s feelings and emotions. Lynnette does an excellent job making you feel each aspect of her life. Plus the suspense part keeps you on the edge of your seat! This is a great historical mail-order-bride read. I highly recommend it!

  —MARTHA, Amazon reader

  To purchase Rocky Mountain Oasis click here.

  Now Available…

  She’s loved him for as long as she can remember.

  But can she trust her heart to a man haunted by constant danger?

  Shiloh, Oregon, April 1887

  Victoria Snyder, adopted when she was only days old, pastes on a smile for her mama’s wedding day, but inside she’s all atremble. Lawman Rocky Jordan is back home. And this time he’s got a bullet hole in his shoulder and enough audacity to come calling. Since tragedy seems to strike those she cares for with uncanny frequency, she wants nothing to do with a man who could be killed in the line of duty like her father.

  But when an orphan-train arrives at the Salem depot, Victoria is irresistibly drawn toward the three remaining “unlovable” children…and stunned by a proposal that will change all of their lives forever.

  Can she risk her heart, and her future happiness, on someone she might lose at a moment’s notice?

  Two stubborn hearts. A most unusual proposal. Persevering love.

  Step into a day when outlaws ran free, the land was wild, and guns blazed at the drop of a hat.

  www.lynnettebonner.com

  To purchase Fair Valley Refuge click here.

  Fair Valley Refuge – AN EXCERPT…

  Prologue

  New York City, July 21, 1867

  Thick black clouds covered the moon and stars, blocking out even the pretense of light. God had, at least, granted that favor. Ignoring the pain that emanated from every pore of her body, the woman clutched the baby to her chest and took Zeb’s hand, allowing him to help her from the coach. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Darting a look around, she scuttled across the cobblestone street.

  The Foundling Hospital lay just ahead now, all its lights extinguished. Hannah had told her to expect that. She trembled as she stepped onto the walk. Pausing, she swiped the tears from her cheeks and glanced both ways, and then behind her, straining to glimpse any movement or change of shadow. No one was there, as it should be at this hour of night.

  Clutching her precious bundle tightly, she hurried on towards the hospital. Mercifully, the babe slept. At least her last memory of the child would be one of peace and contentment.

  The door loomed ahead, its pointed arch only a lighter shadow outlining a darker center. Her steps faltered, now that safety was so near.

  Easing back into the dark shadows next to the door of the hospital, she pressed against the wall and lifted the baby touching her damp cheek to the child’s small soft one. A silent sob parted her lips, shook her shoulders, and stole the strength from her legs. Sliding down, she laid the babe across her lap and wrapped the blanket tightly around her so she wouldn’t get cold in the night. She dashed more tears from her cheeks with quick, angry swipes and tucked the note carefully into the folds of the blanket making sure the rag doll was there too. It was not right, this travesty.

  Yet love compelled her. One last time, she trailed the back of her first finger over her daughter’s soft cheek. “Ahh Lambkin, the good Lord He be knowin’ I’m only tryin’ ta save ye. ’Tis His forgiveness I’ll rest on. I ken not another path to take.”

  The baby took a soft shuddering breath and turned her face towards the finger, searching even in her sleep for something to latch onto.

  Quickly now, lest she change her mind, the woman opened the outer door of the hospital and stepped into the vestibule. Standing still, she let her vision adjust to the soft candlelight, searching first for anyone who might be lurking in the room. It was empty. She sighed in relief even as her heart sank at being so close to this oh-so-final act.

  There across the room, tucked into a small alcove she could see the candle-lit niche holding a white-swathed cradle. A crucifix hung above it, Christ’s arms stretched wide to welcome the children placed below him, a reminder that loving sacrifice had been made before.

  She swallowed, looked down, pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, instinctively pulling the child tighter to her breast. I’m so unlike Ye, dear Father. I ken only make this sacrifice kickin’ and
screamin’ on the inside. I didna know he was such a bad’n. Give me strength, Father of Grace.

  The baby bleated a soft cry of protest and the woman’s heart skittered. The last thing she needed was for one of the nuns to hear and come to see what was going on. Quickly she brought the babe’s hand to her tiny mouth so she could find her thumb. A smile softened her face as the wee child spurned her thumb and settled for slurping on her two middle fingers.

  Tears blurred her vision again, shattering the candle flames into glittering, twinkling, haloed-stars. Slowly, she stepped towards the cradle and laid the bundle of blessing inside. Trembling, she clasped the heart-shaped silver locket at her neck and slid it back and forth on the chain. She’s a right to be free from me mistakes. The metal against metal zinged softly as she stared down at the babe, indecision furrowing her brow. She’s also the right to know. After only a moment’s hesitation she lifted the chain from around her neck and tucked it into the babe’s blanket next to the note and the rag doll.

  Looking up at the crucifix, she folded her barren arms. “Ye brought this child safe from me womb into this world. I give her back to Ye.” The broken whisper sounded loud in the room. A sob caught in her throat as she touched the baby’s cheek for the last time. “The Lord bless ye and keep ye, chil’. May He cause His face to shine upon ye. And give ye rest.”

  Turning she stumbled out into the darkness, leaving the babe behind.

  Sister Josephine Claremont stepped into the vestibule the next morning, her hands tucked carefully into her sleeves. A slight rustling sound was her first clue that they had a new little one. Leaning over the side of the cradle, she peered down at the tiny babe. Lying on its stomach, eyes open, two fingers captured in its little mouth, the baby couldn’t have been more than a day or two old.

  “My, my, tiny one.” She reached for the baby and snuggled it into the crook of her neck. “What hardships has our Good Lord rescued you from, eh?”

  The baby shifted a wobbly head and slobbered all over its fist trying to find something to suck on.

  “Now, now. That’s not going to do you a bit of good, that fist is not. What say we get you a yummy meal of milk, hmmm?” Sister Josephine calmly walked upstairs to the nursery, even though her heart was pounding like the choir-boy who got carried away with his drum last Christmas. It never ceased to surprise her when a child was left here for them.

 

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