Vestige of Hope

by Sara Blackard

  Viola detected someone bending down next to her.

  “What would you know about a life worth living?” Linc spat. “Don’t you touch her. She’s mine.”

  “I’m just checking her wound, so stop fretting. You left a welt the size of Texas on her head,” Robert answered as he brushed the hair off Viola’s forehead. “I want a life built on honesty and hard work. Don’t you remember anything you learned in church when Mama would take us?”

  As Linc ranted and raved about all the good churchgoing ever did, Robert bent over her and whispered, “I will do all I can to help you, Miss Viola. I promise you that.”

  “Get away from her.” Linc yanked Robert away, causing Viola to flinch. “Oh, good. You’re finally up. Now we can get moving again. The sooner we get away from here, the sooner I can make you mine.”

  Viola’s eyes flew open, and she scooted away as fast as she could without her hands. Linc grabbed her by the arms and yanked her up, causing pain to radiate from her head all the way to her fingers. He pulled her close and leaned in to kiss her, making Viola almost vomit again.

  “I don’t think so,” Hunter’s strong voice thundered into the clearing.

  Viola’s knees gave out as Linc spun her around and pulled her back up against him.

  Righteous indignation flared through Hunter as he moved into the clearing from his spot behind the trees where he’d listened as Linc ranted at his brother. Hunter lifted his Colt to aim at Linc.

  Hunter realized things would happen fast, past experience had proved that, but the whiny brother surprised him when he stood quickly and drew. Before Hunter even reacted, an arrow flew through the air, hitting the gun from the brother’s hand.

  “My gun!” The youngest Sweeney yelled as he gaped with rage from his gun that now laid on the ground, to Beatrice who’d already nocked another arrow. “You’re going to pay for that, missy.”

  “I’d suggest if you don’t want anything more precious shot, you’d get your hands up and keep them there,” Beatrice answered, cold and even.

  “Shut up, you imbecile,” Linc yelled at his brother.

  Hunter focused all his attention back on Linc, who’d pulled Viola in front of him, placing his gun to her temple. Hunter blocked everything else out, knowing his team would worry about the other two, though from his peripheral, Robert had his hands in the air, not willing to help his brother.

  “Let her go.” Heat flushed through Hunter’s body, and his muscles quivered.

  Linc sneered and chuckled, pulling Viola tighter against him.

  “Linc, you’re outnumbered four to one. You’d be smart to let her go,” Robert said, his voice placating.

  “Never, and you’re gonna have a time of it explaining to Pa how you betrayed your family when you meet him in hell.” Linc spat at Robert, spittle running from his lips and rage burning in his eyes.

  “That’s just it,” Robert said with a sad shrug. “I’m giving my life to Jesus, like Mama always taught us, so I doubt I’ll be seeing Pa again.”

  “Coward,” Linc yelled, pressing the gun harder into Viola’s temple.

  The rage on Linc’s face and the way his hands shook told Hunter the situation bordered on spiraling out of control. A sudden sense of peace breathed through his body, and he glanced into Viola’s face. Terror and pain swam in those beautiful green eyes, but he also saw her confidence in him there as well. He knew without a doubt that she trusted him to get her through this. The peace of God rooted solid within his feet as he lifted his gun higher.

  “Last warning, Sweeney. Let her go, or pay the price,” Hunter warned.

  “I’d rather die first,” Linc said, a sinister gleam entering his eyes. “And I’ll take Viola with me.”

  Linc shifted the gun ever so slightly, and Hunter didn’t wait a second longer to react. He took aim and pulled the trigger. Time slowed as Linc and Viola dropped to the ground in a heap together. Hunter ran up to them, sliding in next to where they landed. Viola’s frantic scream and kicking legs from where she lay pinned beneath Linc’s body filled Hunter with such relief his throat constricted, tight with unshed tears. He helped her get untangled and pulled her to him. Hunter captured her face within his hands and wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks, fully aware tears flowed down his.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered placing his forehead to hers.

  “How in the world did you make that shot?” Orlando asked as he looked up from where he crouched next to Linc, the bullet wound seeping from his forehead.

  “God,” Hunter replied, “and a lot of practice.”

  Hunter turned to the Sweeneys. Robert’s hand lay on William’s shoulder, who stood rocking back-and-forth, staring at Linc’s body. Hunter wondered if what he’d overheard was true or if it was another game being played.

  “I listened to what you said. Was Linc the one who killed Joseph Thomas?” Hunter asked, keeping his eyes on Robert’s face for any sign of deception.

  “Yeah.” Robert looked down, running his hand through his dark hair. “We all had a part in getting the jump on him, but the plan was to get him to tell us about their mine. I never planned on him getting harmed, wanted none of this actually. William and I left to hunt up some game after we’d captured Joseph, and when we got back, Linc had already killed him.”

  “He didn’t simply kill him, he brutalized him,” Orlando said firmly.

  “That was the most disturbing thing I’d ever seen.” Robert shuddered. “I never imagined Linc had gotten so desperate, but I’d seen the rage in him growing for some time. With that though, I realized I was done with his schemes, but after what Viola said to us back at the cabin that first day, I knew I had to figure out a way to help if I could. So I kept William with me, refusing to slink around with Linc, and prayed for God to show me the way out. I never meant for things to get where they did. I’m sorry for all we’ve put you through. When you are ready, we’ll go willingly to Denver with you to turn us into the Marshalls. I just ask, though he doesn’t deserve it, that you let us bury Linc before we leave.”

  Hunter glanced from Viola to Beatrice to Orlando. The grief on their faces was stark, varying in their expressions. No matter what they decided, he would support his family in whatever way he could.

  Orlando stepped forward and stared directly in Robert’s eyes and stated, “Yes, you helped Linc in getting Pa, but if what you say is true, and I believe it is, then you didn’t kill him. There’s been enough evil and hurt between our families. I’m ready to be done with it. God calls us to rise above evil and to forgive those who sin against us. If you promise you’re through with chasing after foolishness, I’m okay with letting you live out that life worth living you were talking about earlier.”

  “But we deserve justice for our part in this,” Robert insisted.

  “All of us deserve punishment, Robert, but like God gave us grace and mercy for our sins, we want to show you the same,” Orlando encouraged as he put his hand on Robert’s shoulder.

  Hunter had never seen such Christian faith in action. The forgiveness Orlando gave, despite the horrendous crime done to their father, humbled him. He looked forward to getting to know his new brother-in-law after they got back home.

  “I promise,” Robert vowed. “William and I won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll head out as soon as we get things finished here, and you won’t have to see us again.”

  Hunter wondered if William thought the same thing, considering the leering looks he was sending Beatrice’s way. Hunter motioned for River to come over.

  “Why don’t you and Beatrice go round up the horses and meet us back at the cabin?” Hunter asked as River came closer.

  “Good idea,” River stated as he grabbed Beatrice’s arm and pulled her away. Hunter chuckled as he heard River ask in awe, “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

  Hunter turned to Viola and pulled her close. He was ready to go home. He was eager to finally start this new life God had blessed him with.

&nb
sp; Viola leaned into Hunter’s side as he pulled her through the forest. She figured he was taking her home, but she was still in such shock that she couldn’t quite process everything yet. It amazed her that the whole ordeal finally seemed over. They’d get to live their lives without the constant shadow of doubt that had blanketed the last weeks.

  Viola let Hunter help her onto the back of Cocoa. He mounted up behind her and she leaned into him as he steered them toward home. She didn’t talk, just cherished the touch of his strong arms around her and the scent that represented him, pine and leather and a hint of grass. She knew she’d never feel safer than when she was with him, and she hoped he finally realized he had proved more than capable to do that job.

  The fast clip of a horse’s footsteps told Viola that Orlando approached. The mercy Orlando showed to Robert still overwhelmed her with love and pride. She rejoiced that evil would ruin no more lives and prayed Robert and William embraced a life rich in Christ.

  She peered over at Orlando as he pulled even with them. She thanked God that He had saved Orlando. It was obvious from the blood that still caked his hair and saturated his shirt that he’d been injured by the bullet. Viola figured since he seemed to be riding alright, he was fine for the moment, though she’d want to look at the wound when they got home. He also appeared rough around the edges from his travels and needed a good shave, but he remained handsome with his blue eyes shining with seriousness.

  “You have a lot to tell me about since I’ve left, sister of mine,” Orlando joked, smiling over at her and raising his eyebrows to Hunter.

  “Orlando, you have no idea.” Viola laughed.

  “We have a long ride home,” Orlando replied, then eyed her and Hunter skeptically. “There’s not a baby on the way, is there?”

  “Not yet,” Viola said, eyeing Orlando sternly at the improper implication. She then smiled and added coyly, “But I hope there will be soon.”

  Hunter inhaled sharply behind her. Without warning, his arms loosened from around her waist. She turned. Hunter’s eyes opened wide in shock, and his body dropped from behind her with a thud as Hunter fell off the horse.

  Epilogue

  April 19, 1878

  Hunter beamed at the baby wrapped snug in flannel that he held in his arms. His son, Chase Joseph, had thick blond hair that curled upon his head. Hunter had insisted on being there for the baby’s birth, and he was glad he had. He never imagined he’d help birth his baby in the middle of the mountains, trapped by feet of snow and miles of nothing and no one. But then again, God had required him to do a lot of things he never thought he’d do.

  Viola sighed in the bed, so Hunter crossed to sit on it with her. As he leaned up against the headboard, Viola rested her head against his arm and stroked their son’s hair as he slept.

  “Isn’t he perfect?” she announced.

  “Yeah, but he takes after his mom that way,” Hunter replied, kissing her on the head.

  She beamed up at him. His breath left his lungs in a whoosh. He praised God for sending him back here to this beauty, for how full his life was now that he had her and their son. He kissed her, hoping to convey some of his astonishment.

  “How are you feeling?” he murmured.

  “Better than you did when you fell off the horse when I mentioned having babies,” Viola sassed.

  “Hey now,” Hunter muttered. “We agreed never to talk about that.”

  Viola laughed and snuggled in closer, replying with sleep in her voice, “If I recall, you begged, but we never actually agreed.”

  Hunter knew she was right. No amount of cajoling would make them forget that event. He wondered how far up through history the family story would pass, and if his great grandkids would laugh about the day he fell from his horse in shock. He chuckled and figured he would make a history full of stories while he figured this life out here in the Colorado wilderness. Hunter hugged his family closer. He would embrace the gift God had given him full on without regret or doubt.

  Be sure to pick up the next book in the Vestige in Time series. Vestige of Legacy is available on all major retailers.

  Want to get in on giveaways, sneak peeks, and the latest book news? Sign up for Sara Blackard’s newsletter and grab the latest freebie. Visit www.sarablackard.com for more information.

  Also by Sara Blackard

  Vestige in Time Series

  Vestige of Power

  Vestige of Hope

  Vestige of Legacy

  Vestige of Courage

  * * *

  Stryker Security Force Series

  Mission Out of Control

  Falling For Zeke

  Capturing Sosimo

  Crashing Into Jake

  Want to know how it all began? Find out what propelled Hunter to the mountains and back through time by signing up for Sara Blackard’s newsletter and receive Mission Out of Control, the Vestige of Hope prequel for FREE.

  Acknowledgments

  The process of writing a novel is much more complicated than one would think, taking many hands and minds to make it come to fruition. I never imagined I’d get to write, edit, and publish a book in a year, let alone at all. A dream often fantasized, but never believed possible. Without the amazing people in my life that surround me with love and encouragement, I’m not sure if this dream would’ve ever become a reality.

  To my husband, Stretch: Thank you for always supporting my crazy ideas with a shake of your head and a “Go for it.” You inspire me to be a better person with the way you give so selflessly to those around you. I’m more proud to be known around town as “Stretch’s wife” than just about anything. I’m so glad my name can be connected to yours for all time.

  To my children: Tucker, Titus, Sadie, Maddox, and Finnegan. For constantly asking me how the book is going and making your own grilled cheese sandwiches for the umpteenth day in a row as I figure out what I’m doing. I’m so glad God blessed me with such fun and amazing kids. Thank you for all the hugs and understanding as we journey through this together.

  To my mom and dad: You always sacrificed so much so that we could pursue our interests growing up. Your belief that I was worth the time, money, and effort it took to invest in my pursuits, driving me for countless hours to dance class and supporting me through college when I had no clue what I wanted to grow up to be, showed me true unconditional love. Thank you so much for being pillars of strength and trust I could build my life upon. God blessed me when He formed me in your womb and placed me firmly within your arms.

  To my girls, Shelly Sulfridge and Jodi Bayse: I’m so blessed to have such amazing friends who have a passion for writing and a deep-rooted desire to share the love of God through the written word. You’ve pushed me to get a move on, struggled with me through difficult characters, and read through slow, agonizing text that should’ve seen an editor way before it saw the eyes of anyone else. I love that we have each other on this writing adventure and look forward to years of tears, plotting, and dark chocolate.

  To Kathy Morgan and Rosalie White: Thank you for being guinea pigs and reading that first draft. For being gracious in your feedback and helping me believe as if there might actually be talent flowing from these fingertips. I’m blown away that you still want to be my trusty proofreaders — even after that epic first read.

  To my incredible editor Raneé Clark at Sweetly Us Press: Seriously, girl. You helped me take my okay novel to where I desired it to be, pulling the scenes and words like taffy until they transformed to the sweet story I have now. Your guidance has improved my writing by leaps and bounds, words whispered in my head prodding me to immerse my readers into a world of adventure and true emotions. Thank you for being patient with a newbie author who had no knowledge of proper format. I look forward to many more books fine-tuned by your knowledgeable insights.

  Most importantly, all glory goes to God, the Giver of dreams and the Author of life. Thank you for being a vestige of hope threaded within my life, blooming to brightness when I put my trust in Y
ou. “Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.” Romans 15:13

  About the Author

  Sara Blackard has been a writer since she was able to hold a pencil. When she's not crafting wild adventures and sweet romances, she's homeschooling her five children, keeping their off-grid house running, or enjoying the Alaskan lifestyle she and her husband love.

  Contents

  FREE Vestige of Hope prequel

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Also by Sara Blackard