“Tell you what. I’ll leave peaceably if you’ll put down the gun.”
“Drop the knife, Mr. Benchley, I’m warning—”
He lunged at her.
Renna squeezed the trigger. Click. Then again. The gun fired with a deafening blast and jammed her shoulders back. She prepared to shoot again, but Benchley’s body crumpled to floor.
Frozen in dread, Renna waited as the smoke cleared. She took a cautious step toward her victim, lest he be able enough to retaliate. But one glimpse of the hole in Benchley’s chest and she knew her nursing skills would be of no use to him now. Her aim had been right on.
At least he hadn’t suffered.
Undaunted Faith
TWENTY-NINE
Brian heard the shot as he climbed from the buggy. “Wendell, it came from in the house.” He took off up the brick walk and pushed open the heavy front door. Running into the foyer he looked to his left then right before he saw the darkly clad figure of a man sprawled near the stairwell. As he neared, he spotted Renna, sagged against the wall.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
With his gaze still inspecting Renna for any signs of trauma, he moved near the form on his terrazzo floor. Thinking Renna looked no worse for wear, he peered at the gunshot wound to the left side of the man’s chest.
He pursed his lips. Impressive shot. Questions swirled in his head. With the tip of his boot he moved the man’s head so he could see his face. “Benchley.” He looked at Renna. “How’d this happen?”
“He broke in and came at me with a knife, so I . . . shot him with this gun.” She held up the revolver with her thumb and forefinger as though it were a repugnant object.
In a few strides Brian reached her and took the weapon.
“It’s loaded,” she warned.
Handling the gun with care, he pulled the hammer to the half-cocked position then inspected it. He rubbed his thumb over his engraved initials on the bottom of the handle. “This is my revolver.” He frowned, curious. “How did you manage to find it?”
“Gabe gave it to me. He watched you hide it some time ago.”
“That rascal! But under the circumstances I’m glad.” He encircled her with one arm and hugged her to him. “Where are the others?”
“Upstairs. Mum, Hester, Michael, and the girls. Gabe went to fetch the authorities.” Renna wet her lips. “So you see, Captain, your eldest is really the hero in all this.”
“Hero? Hmm . . . it’s really you, Renna, who has saved the day.” Brian pulled her close. He expected her to dissolve into tears over the ordeal, but she didn’t. Pride and admiration welled inside of him.
Wendell entered the house with Gabe and the police. The boy was the first to run for the body.
“Saints alive! You really did shoot him, Miss Fields, didn’t you?”
“Gabriel Sinclair!” Brian cleared his throat and released Renna. He beckoned Gabe with a forefinger, and the youngster sidled up to him. A reprimand formed on his tongue, but when Renna wagged her head ever so slightly, Brian decided on a different approach. “Gabe, I understand I have you to thank for your quick thinking.”
“Yessir.” He brought himself up to his full height of five feet nothing.
Brian slung his arm around his son’s shoulders. “Good job, son.” He grinned, seeing Gabe’s expression fill with pleasure.
“I said that you could trust me.”
“And you’ve proved it. But we’ll talk more later. For now, how about running upstairs and letting everyone know that Renna is fine. Tell them they may come downstairs, but they need to use the back way. Ask Hester to keep the little girls in the kitchen. They don’t need to see any of this at their tender ages.”
“Right.” Gabe was halfway up the stairs already, and Brian realized a little praise went a long way with his son.
He steered his attention to the other side of the foyer. Police surrounded Benchley’s body and rolled his lifeless form onto a gurney. The men quickly carried him from the house.
Wendell hugged Renna. “You’re a brave woman, my little wren.”
Brian agreed. He enfolded her hand in one of his. “Yes, in fact, you’re more courageous than some of the soldiers I’ve commanded.”
“You’ll forgive me if I can’t feel quite the same about my actions.” Sadness rimmed her green eyes. “I hated to kill another human being. But I had no choice. I feared for my life and the lives of my mother, Hester, and the children.”
An officer had shuffled over and listened intently.
“We found a Bowie knife under the body, sir.” The officer looked at Brian, holding his blue hat in his hands. “This appears to be a clear-cut case of self-defense.”
“Of course it is.” Wendell looked offended. “My daughter isn’t in the habit of shooting people.”
Brian grinned. “Easy, Wendell. I know it’s been a stressful time for the both of us, but this man’s just doing his job.”
“You’re right.” Contrition crawled across the older man’s face. “My apologies.”
“Accepted.” The lanky officer inclined his head.
“As for your daughter, Wendell”—Brian eyed Renna—“I can promise you that I will never take her for granted or treat her like a child again. She’s a woman. A very capable woman. Not to mention trustworthy and loyal.”
“And quite pretty if I do say so myself,” the officer interjected.
Brian turned and sent him his darkest glare.
“But if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” The man scrambled to join his comrades.
A faint grin tugged at his mouth. But as moments passed, Brian realized how close he came to losing Renna.
Lord, never allow me to take her and my family for granted again.
“The important thing is, this whole nightmare is over.” Wendell put his head back and whispered a quick prayer of thanks. “Matt Benchley will never threaten anyone again, and that means, Brian, you can stop the pretense. You’re free to live again. We all are.”
THIRTY
Renna helped her mother carry in coffee and slices of sweet potato pie from the kitchen. This Thanksgiving Day had been a true celebration!
Da prayed before the meal, giving God thanks and praise for all He’d done and for all He promised to do. Then, after eating roast turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and green beans, they transitioned to the main parlor.
Renna set down the large round tray and smiled, seeing Brian and Richard clasp hands near the hearth. Richard had accepted the partnership! She sent a glance at his parents. Their smiles spoke of their own happiness over Richard’s decision. As it happened, they had been praying for a similar outcome since they learned Brian survived the accident. Now, after having prayed and considered Brian’s offer for the better part of three weeks, Richard took his former boss up on it.
“But I never dreamed of a partnership.” Richard sported an ear-to-ear grin. “It’s more than I would have imagined.”
How like God to do over, abundantly, and above all we ask or think, Renna thought.
Sarah clapped her hands, laughing softly. She too was pleased with the decision.
“Well, you’ve earned it.”
Renna caught Brian’s earnest expression.
“I just hope you’ll allow my family to be part of your family, because that’s how I think of you, Richard—like a brother.”
“Well, certainly! We’re brothers in Christ, to be sure. Brothers in business now also.”
“And I hereby adopt you, Captain Brian Sinclair,” Marty Navis boomed from his wheelchair, “as my eldest son.”
The children stood by and cheered.
“So that makes you our . . . grandpa.” Gabe placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder. Renna didn’t miss the hopefulness in the boy’s gaze.
“That would be Grandpops to you, young man.” Richard grinned. “I’ve called my father ‘Pops’ for as long as I can recall.”
“And I’m Aunt Sarah,” Sarah declared, pulli
ng Rachel onto her lap.
Renna’s heart swelled to think Richard and Sarah would still be very much a part of the children’s lives.
“And now there’s just one other thing I must take care of,” Brian said.
Renna handed a plate of pie to Mrs. Navis, then turned to look at her beloved—and, yes, Brian Sinclair was the man she loved with all her heart.
“Wendell?”
“Go right ahead, Brian.”
Renna straightened, feeling confused. She faced Brian. “Are you leaving?”
“No. We are leaving.” He stretched out his hand. “Come.”
“Was she naughty, Daddy?” Rachel’s hazel eyes were wide.
Sarah whispered something to her.
“Oh . . . ” Rachel gave Renna a large smile.
And that got Renna feeling suspicious. She wiped her hands on the apron she wore over a black gown with white pearl buttons and lacy collar and cuffs. Mum stood and took it from her. Then she took Brian’s hand. “Where are we going?”
“I need some air after that delicious meal.”
Ramsey brought their outerwear. “Everything’s all set, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Before Renna could voice a question, Brian guided her outside to an awaiting carriage.
“I thought you wanted to take a walk.”
“No, darling, I have something else in mind.”
Their driver helped them inside and then closed the vehicle’s door.
“Where are we going?”
“Sit back, Renna. Allow me to hold you close. I want to savor this trip with you here beside me.”
Renna did as he bid. No longer insecure around him, she rode silently. With her head on Brian’s shoulder, her eyelids grew heavy. It had been a busy day, baking and cooking. Isabelle had the holiday off, so Mum, Hester, and Renna prepared their Thanksgiving Day feast.
Her mind drifted back on the past few weeks. After killing Benchley in self-defense, Renna stayed in Milwaukee with her family. Brian insisted on it, and Renna had never really wanted to cut their holiday short anyway.
With the danger past, Renna had been able to get to know the man she loved and pray about whether it was God’s will that they marry. It seemed each time she asked, God used Da to reply, “He’s a fine man, Renna.” Sometimes the comment came offhandedly, and even Da looked surprised that he’d said it. But Renna knew the Lord gave her direction.
As for herself, she liked getting to know the real Brian Sinclair—and what a blessing it had been allowing his children to get to know her. She sensed they loved her as much as she loved them. When she was with Brian and his kids, Renna felt like they were a family. A happy family . . .
“Renna?” Brian’s voice pulled her from her reverie. Had she fallen asleep?
“Wake up, darling. We’re here.”
“Oh . . . ” Renna blinked. “Forgive me. I hadn’t meant to nap.”
Brian hugged her close in reply.
Their driver opened the carriage door, and once they both climbed out, Renna realized they stood in front of his mother’s estate. A golden glow coming from the windows made for a welcoming sight.
“Does someone live here now?”
“I should say so.” Brian took her hand and led her to the front door.
Renna tamped down her disappointment. She’d been fond of this place and imagined herself living here with Brian and the children. Silly wishes! But the fact was, she’d live wherever Brian did. She’d follow him to the ends of the world if need be.
Brian turned the brass knob and let them in. Renna shrugged out of her wool coat and pulled off her gloves. Her velvet bonnet came next. Accepting her outerwear, Brian slung them over the back of a chair in the foyer.
Brian took her hand. “This way, Renna.”
He led her into the parlor where a fire in the hearth blazed. Crystal vases containing long-stemmed red roses had been placed on every available tabletop and flat surface.
“They’re beautiful,” Renna breathed. “This room is beautiful.”
“Like you, Renna.” Brian sat on the settee and patted the place beside him. He reached into his suede jacket and pulled out a black velvet box.
Renna held her breath as he opened the lid. Diamonds and emeralds sparkled at her.
She gasped.
“A ring. For you. The line of emeralds match the color of your eyes, and the diamonds signify my undying love for you.” Brian removed the band from its white satin cradle and slipped it on her finger.
“Oh, Brian . . . ”
“Will you be my wife, Renna? I’m very much in love with you.”
“I know.” She admired the way the dazzling ring looked on her finger. “And, yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Because you’re pleased with the gift?”
“No, not because of it.” She recognized his vulnerability hidden beneath his facetious tone. “I love you too, Brian. And I adore your children.”
“You proved you’d do anything for them—and me.”
“And it’s true. I would. I know you’d do the same for me.”
“Without question.” He clutched her wrist and pressed a kiss inside her palm. “You have just made me a very happy man. And I swear . . . no more pretense. Not ever.”
“I believe you. You’re a pirate no more, Captain Brian Sinclair.”
“Well, perhaps . . . ” He arched a sardonic brow. “I’m still just a little bit of a pirate.” He stole a kiss.
He’d stolen her heart—long ago.
“We’ll live here, raise our children here. I’ve always been happy in this house.”
Renna was overjoyed. “Oh, Brian, that’s what I’ve been hoping!” She glanced around the room. “It almost feels like home already.”
“So you approve?”
“I more than approve!” She ran her fingertips along his shadowed jaw. “I feel so blessed right now.”
His black eyes darkened even more. “I love you, Renna.”
He kissed her again, this time slowly, deliberately. Then he wrapped her in a snug embrace, and Renna never felt more cherished—
And yes, even beautiful.
UNDAUNTED FAITH
Book 4 in the Seasons of Redemption Series
One
A knock sounded once. Then again, more insistent this time.
“Coming.” Bethany set down the quill and capped the inkwell. Closing her journal, she stood from where she’d been sitting at the rough-hewn desk Mr. Winters had hammered together for her use. Then, before she could open the door, Millie Winters poked her round, cherubic face into Bethany’s bedroom.
“Mama says breakfast is ready.”
“Thank you, Millie, I’ll be down shortly.”
A grin curved the flaxen-haired girl’s pink mouth. “Reverend Luke and Reverend Jacob are already here. Sheriff Montano is too.”
“I’ll be down shortly.” Walking to the looking glass, Bethany brushed out her long brown hair. It had dried from her earlier bath in the river.
Thirteen-year-old Millie stepped farther into the room and closed the door behind her. “I’ll bet we’ll hear some lively conversation. Something about cattle stealing. Papa said the Indians have been causing trouble again.”
“Oh, dear.” Bethany tried not to show either her discontent with this town or her unease of the natives of this land. She gathered her hair, then twisted it into a coil and pinned it at her nape. “Was anyone killed?”
“I don’t know, but I expect we’ll find out at breakfast.”
With her hair in place, Bethany turned to Millie. “I’m ready.”
“Good.” The girl strode to the door and paused. “Miss Stafford, who do you think is more handsome, Reverend Luke, Reverend Jacob, or the sheriff?” A conspiratorial expression spread across her face. “I fancy Sheriff Paden Montano is a handsome curiosity, is he not?”
“I don’t notice such things,” Bethany fibbed. She folded her arms in front of her. If truth be told, only a woman deaf
and blind wouldn’t notice Paden Montano; however, she wasn’t about to encourage Millie. The young lady was one of her pupils, and Bethany wanted to set a good example. “And what would your parents have to say if they heard you talking like this?”
Millie gasped. “You’re not going to tell them, are you?”
Bethany raised a contemplative brow. “Well, maybe not this time.” She strode earnestly toward the young girl. “But you must stop allowing your thoughts to be consumed by romance. You’re going to get hurt.”
“Pshaw!”
Bethany gasped. “Millie, really!”
The girl continued unabashed. “Miss Stafford, if you haven’t already noticed, you and I are the only eligible women in Silverstone—well, except for Dr. Bryce. But she’s too busy to notice men. Even so, you and I can have our pick of any bachelor we want.”
“You are not eligible.” Bethany knew both Mr. and Mrs. Winters wanted their only child to receive an education before she married. “And I am not . . . interested.”
“Are you certain about that?” A taunting glimmer entered Millie’s eyes. “You and Reverend Luke seem to spend a lot of time together.”
Bethany felt her cheeks flame in a mixture of embarrassment and aggravation. “Millie, I’m a teacher, and Reverend Luke—and Reverend Jake, I might add—are starting a school. It’s only natural that we’d spend time together . . . to plan and organize.”
“Well, fine. But I am interested—in getting me a husband!”
“You’re much too young.”
“Am not! My friend Emma got married last year, and she’s younger than me!”
“Than I,” Bethany corrected. “And every circumstance is different.” She knew girls were married off at Millie’s age and younger. “But we’re talking about you, and you’re not ready for marriage. You have a lot of schooling left.”
“So I can end up like Dr. Bryce?”
Bethany’s jaw tightened. “And what’s wrong with Dr. Bryce? She seems like a remarkable woman. She’s come all the way from Ohio.” Bethany felt a kinship between them, both being women from east of the Mississippi River and two women who had survived the journey along the Santa Fe Trail. But it seemed the physician wasn’t interested in making friends, although she was pleasant enough.
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