by Karen Kirst
He sunk into the chair as his defenses began to crumble. Who was he fooling? He loved Adelaide with all of his heart. There was no him without her. There was only misery.
Then what was holding him back? Why hadn’t he returned the words of love she already knew he felt? She couldn’t break his heart more than he already had. In fact, she was probably the only one who could mend it.
Wait. No. That wasn’t right.
God was the one who mended broken hearts. So where was God in any of this? Certainly not in Chris’s anger or refusal to forgive.
That’s when Chris realized he’d done it again. He’d slowly but surely booted God out of his life in favor of his own plans, understanding and desires. He’d been trying so hard to control his own destiny that he was right on his way to missing it completely. His destiny wasn’t wrapped up in a mail-order bride or Adelaide or the mercantile or the newspaper. It was in his relationship with God and how he allowed that relationship to define his interactions, behavior and ultimately his purpose.
No wonder he was miserable. He’d been neglecting his Heavenly Love even worse than his earthly one. All because he was too afraid to surrender his will to the One who loved him and wanted the best for him. Well, no more.
Chris sank to his knees beside the desk. The fear was still there, but Chris had learned that the only thing scarier than surrendering to God was living a life under his own control, so he didn’t let it stop him. He bowed his head. “Lord, I surrender my life to You. I surrender my need to control it. I choose to trust You with it instead. I choose to seek Your will and yield to it. Right now, I give you all of my anger and all of my fears. I place my thoughts, my actions and my relationship under Your authority. God, I pray not my will but Yours be done in my life from this day forward.”
As he said “Amen,” he felt a weight lift from his chest and shoulders. A new sense of freedom filled him and prompted his first genuine smile in at least a week. On its heels came certainty and purpose.
Seeing that Adelaide had left her gun behind, he locked it in his desk for safekeeping, then grabbed his keys. He went back to his parents’ house, packed his bags and returned to the darkened mercantile. Light shone out of the second story windows promising that Adelaide was still awake. He climbed the stairs to the apartment landing and pulled out his key. There would be no going back after this. If he unlocked this door, he would be declaring himself completely committed to his marriage and totally surrendered to God.
He slid the key inside the lock, making plenty of noise to alert Adelaide to his presence. He gave it a quick twist to unlock it. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside. Adelaide stood frozen by the stove in the kitchen where she seemed to have been starting a late supper. Her face shone with hope. He leaned back on the door to close it behind him.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you, Adelaide Johansen,” he announced. “I promise to stay with you, be true to you and give you my whole heart each and every day. I will not for one more moment take for granted the love or trust you have placed in me. This is my vow to you. Nothing in this world can stop me from keeping it.”
With a tremulous smile on her lips, Adelaide crossed the room to take the suitcase from his hand and set it aside. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Then, cradling his head with one hand, she kissed his cheek. Then his lips. Her gaze traced his face reverently. “You were right at our wedding. No one knows you better than me. I know how hard this week must have been for you. My arms are open to you, Chris, now and forever. Your heart is safe with me.”
“I know, sweetheart. Even if it wasn’t, I’d still want you to have it. You were right earlier, too. It belongs to you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away, then caught his hand and gave it a little tug. “It’s been a hard week. Come and rest. I’ll make you supper, then you can unpack…”
She chattered on about all of the things they could do together while he followed her to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter not saying much. It was enough to be with her as husband and wife in the home he’d made for her. He could see the future stretching out before him—them reading books together by the fire on chilly winter nights, spending lazy Sunday afternoons with their families, having long talks about the Lord in bluebonnet fields. The view from here was pretty perfect, all right.
Then suddenly it wasn’t.
Reaching around Adelaide, he turned the burner off on the stove. She spun to offer a confused protest, which he cut off with a sound kiss. When he pulled back, her lashes slowly lifted to reveal green eyes that started to sparkle. She caught the collar of his shirt and guided him down for another one. He could hardly do it properly since he was too busy grinning.
Yeah. This was much better. What a way to start the future.
*
Dear Reader,
I am blessed to have the most amazing readers a writer could ever ask for. Over the course of my writing career I have received so many inspiring messages from you. I can’t tell you how valuable they are to me. God has used them to minister to me in many different ways. Sometimes it’s to encourage me when I feel as if my writing is lacking. Other times it’s to make me smile when I’m having a bad day. Most often it’s to remind me of why I do what I do.
It isn’t to see my name of the cover of a book, though I have to admit that is pretty awesome. It’s to spread God’s love and truth. I pray He uses this story to break down the barriers we so often and sometimes unknowingly erect around our hearts to keep out people and His presence. I pray He heals any broken hearts that might be reading this. Finally, I pray that He gives us all the strength to forgive and keep on forgiving others and ourselves.
I hope you enjoyed this visit to Peppin. If you’d like to share your thoughts about the story, you can email me directly at [email protected]. You also can check out my website at NoelleMarchand.com for updates and a list of my backlist books. Or connect with me on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter or Pinterest. I’d love to hear from you!
May God bless and keep you,
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.
You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.
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ISBN-13: 9781488007736
The Texan’s Engagement Agreement
Copyright © 2016 by Noelle Marchand
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Westward Wedding Journey
Delsie Radford is going to make it to California, no matter the danger or difficulty. Her father may have kept her and her sister apart, but Delsie refuses to miss her sister’s wedding—even with only eighteen days to get there. And she’s found the perfect escort in Pony Express rider Myles Patton.
Myles can’t believe it when a pretty socialite hires him to take her cross-country through rough terrain and dangerous territory. Surely she’ll quit before they reach their destination—he’s known girls like her before. But the longer they ride together, the more Myles notices Delsie’s toughness and kindness beneath her polished exterior. And though they may be worlds apart…they might just be perfect for each other.
Now look at her, he thought with a wry shake of his head, traipsing through the brush without a care for her dress and wearing that hat like a real rider.
He could hardly believe they’d only met less than a week ago. It seemed more like a month with all they’d been through.
At the base of the rock spire, Delsie stopped. Myles came up beside her. Instead of the lofty height of the formation, her attention seemed riveted on the names and initials carved into the soft rock. There were dozens and dozens of them, some fresh, others growing faint from the effects of the sun, rain and wind.
“Just think how many people have passed by this very rock.” Delsie reached out and traced a name with her finger. “All looking for a new life out West.” Her voice held the same wistfulness it did whenever she spoke of her sister. Did Delsie hold out hope of possibly carving a new life out here, too?
Myles reached into his boot and withdrew his knife. “I say we add our names to theirs.”
Delsie looked from the knife to him, then smiled fully. “All right.”
Stacy Henrie has always had a love for history, fiction and chocolate. She earned her BA in public relations before turning her attentions to raising a family and writing inspirational historical romances. Wife of an entrepreneur husband and a mother to three, Stacy loves to live out history through her fictional characters. In addition to author, she is also a reader, a road trip enthusiast and a novice interior decorator.
Books by Stacy Henrie
Love Inspired Historical
Lady Outlaw
The Express Rider’s Lady
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
THE EXPRESS RIDER’S LADY
Stacy Henrie
Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
—Joshua 1:9
For my three families—the one I call my own, the one I grew up in and the one I married into. Love you all.
Thank you to my agent, Jessica Alvarez, the best advocate an author could ask for, and to my editor Elizabeth Mazer, who was as excited as me to see Myles and Delsie’s story come together. Thanks also to Giselle Regus for her excellent editorial help and suggestions. A final thanks to my readers, especially those of you who’ve traveled with me from the Old West to the battlefronts of WWI and back again.
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER ONE
Saint Joseph, Missouri, June 1860
“Can I help you, miss?” The horseman cocked an eyebrow at Delsie, his surprise evident in each line of his weathered face. Clearly he wasn’t used to finding ladies standing around the Pony Express Stables. Especially at this early hour.
Delsie forced her lips into a smile, despite the nervousness making her stomach roil. Good thing she hadn’t eaten any breakfast at the hotel. “I’d like to speak to your fastest Express rider.”
The man rubbed his stubbled chin. “I suppose that’d be Myles Patton, miss. But if you need a letter delivered right quick, you ought to take it to the office at the Patee House hotel.”
“This concerns more than a letter.” She drew herself up to full height, although the top of her rounded hat still didn’t reach the man’s shoulder. “May I speak with him please?”
The man shrugged. “I think he’s inside the stables. His run begins in less than an hour. If you’ll wait here, I’ll get him.”
“Thank you.” She exhaled with relief. One obstacle down. Now if she could only convince this Mr. Patton to go along with her plan.
Delsie turned her back on the open stable doors and brought her handkerchief to her nose. The smell of manure, permeating the morning air, made her nausea worse.
Hold on, Lillie. Delsie clutched her leather valise tighter in her hand as she thought of her sister. I’m coming.
Her luggage held a change of clothes, a nightgown, a few toiletries, money she’d received in exchange for selling nearly all of her inherited jewelry and the most recent letter from her older sister. One of many unopened letters Delsie had just discovered inside her father’s desk back home in Pennsylvania.
A man strode toward her, his face shadowed beneath his hat. He wore an elaborate riding uniform, complete with silver decorations and a scabbard hanging at his side. Delsie blinked in surprise; she’d been expecting a ruffian in a rawhide jacket and trousers.
“Mr. Patton?” She tucked her handkerchief into the sleeve of her blue riding habit.
He tipped up his hat, revealing black eyes and a dark beard that accentuated his strong jaw and bronzed skin. Delsie gulped. He was rather handsome, in a rough sort of way, minus the scowl on his face and the way he sized her up as if she were a pampered child.
“Who are you?” he asked in a tone bordering on rudeness. “And what do you want?”
He certainly wasn’t taken in by the beauty of her dark hair or her midnight-blue eyes like her would-be beau Flynn Coppell always claimed to be. But perhaps that was a good thing. If this Mr. Patton agreed to help her they’d be spending a great deal of time in each other’s company.
“My name is Delsie Radford,” she said with feigned cheerfulness. “I’m here to request a ride.”
“Livery stable’s down the street.” He turned away.
“Wait. You don’t understand.” She hazarded a step toward his retreating figure. “I need a ride to California.”
He spun back, his eyes traveling the length of her again. Delsie tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. “I’m guessing that fancy getup you’re wearing means you can read.”
She frowned. “Of course I can read.”
“Good. Then you’ll notice the sign above the building here says Pony Express Stables and not the Overland Stagecoach. Good day, Miss Radford.” He twisted on his spurred heel once more.
Throwing propriety to the wind, Delsie rushed after him. “I can’t take the stage, Mr. Patton. That’s a three-week journey and I must be in California in eighteen days. Not a day later.”
“Can’t be done,” he barked over his shoulder.
Delsie finally caught up with him, close enough to reach out and grip his sleeve. He froze immediately at her touch. An almost panicked expression flickered across his shadowed face, but at least he’d stopped.
“I read about the incredible feat the Express riders performed with that first run in April. Bringing the mail to California in ten days.” She hadn’t exactly read the newspaper article herself—Papa didn’t think perusing the paper a worthy pastime for women—but he’d read the news out loud to her and Flynn over dinner one evening.
Myles shook his head. “That wasn’t done by one Express rider. We ride a hundred miles
or more along our assigned routes. Then we return with the eastbound mail a few days later to our starting point and do it all over again.”
He shrugged off her hold. “We carry mail, Miss Radford, not passengers. Besides, I’ve heard talk that Indian trouble has likely closed parts of the Pony Express between Utah and California—some of the mail might not even be getting through. What would you do once you reached Salt Lake City?”
“I am aware of the situation and the dangers, Mr. Patton.” She’d heard plenty of talk—first on the stagecoach and later on the train after she’d left her aunt’s home in Saint Louis. “But I’m willing to pay you.”
He harrumphed. “I doubt you’ve got enough to make it worth—”
“How’s five hundred dollars?” She patted the front of her valise.
His eyebrows rose and a flicker of emotion skimmed across his features. Was it interest?
“I recognize the absurdity of my request,” Delsie admitted. He needed to know she hadn’t worked out this solution with no thought to the consequences. “But I’m willing to pay you five hundred dollars, if you’ll help me get to California by the twenty-first of this month.”
With her request out in the open, she pressed her lips together and waited for his response. Please, Lord, she prayed through the ensuing silence. I know this may be a foolhardy venture, but surely Lillian is that important to You, and to me, to make this work.
Myles blew out his breath. Was he relenting? “What’s so important you gotta get to California for?”
A flush heated Delsie’s cheeks. “I’d rather keep the reason to myself.”
“Look, miss.” He readjusted his hat, pushing it up and pulling it back down again. “If I’m going to attempt this, even for five hundred dollars, I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”