The Valiant Hearts Romance Collection

by Kristin Billerbeck

  Love never fails.

  MARYLU TYNDALL, a Christy Award finalist and bestselling author of the Legacy of the King’s Pirates series, is known for her adventurous historical romances filled with deep spiritual themes. She holds a degree in math and worked as a software engineer for fifteen years before testing the waters as a writer. MaryLu currently writes full-time and makes her home on the California coast with her husband, six kids, and four cats. Her passion is to write page-turning, romantic adventures that not only entertain but open people’s eyes to their God-given potential. MaryLu is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America.

  If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

  2 CORINTHIANS 5:17

  Chapter 1

  Birdie Landry smoothed her gloved hand over the sign one of her sewing circle friends had made for her: FRESH EGGS CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN. She could picture it now, sitting inside the window of Finnegan’s Mercantile, drawing customers in to buy her eggs from Ned.

  I’m doing Ned Finnegan a favor. Gerard’s, the other general store in town, didn’t offer eggs. Birdie could have danced for joy when Miss Kate agreed that she could raise chickens on the property. She figured she would have enough eggs to pay for her room at the boardinghouse Miss Kate ran in addition to the diner, and then sell the extras for cash at the mercantile.

  Those two-and-a-half-dozen hens represented the first step in bringing Birdie’s dreams for her mission project to life. She hoped and prayed that Ned wouldn’t hold her past against her.

  No, Birdie told herself. Her friends—imagine, calling the daughter of a pastor a friend—kept reminding her that she was a child of the King. As in the fairy tales she had loved when she was a girl, that made her a princess. Unlike the stories, she didn’t expect Prince Charming to ride up and save her.

  Mr. Finnegan treated her with respect, like any other woman who frequented his store. Mr. Gerard had frequented the Betwixt ’n’ Between on more than one occasion, although he had never requested Birdie’s services.

  Every day Birdie was reminded of her former occupation as she walked the streets of Calico. No matter what route she traveled from the boardinghouse, she passed one of her former clients’ homes. Mrs. Fairfield, the pastor’s wife, encouraged her to pray for the men and the families involved. She called it heaping coals of fire on their heads.

  Like the pretty white house standing to her right. The bank president lived in that place. Birdie kept her eyes open as she prayed, hoping to imprint the image of new summer grass and children at play on the lawn over the sight of the man in his long underwear.

  The door to the house opened, and Birdie crossed the street. She tugged her sunbonnet forward and kept her gaze focused on her feet. No one else appeared in her line of vision as she turned onto Main Street. Because of the early hour, earlier than most people came to the store, she hoped to catch Mr. Finnegan before he had any customers.

  Spotting the deputy sheriff heading down the street, Birdie ducked into the doorway of the mercantile. Mr. Finnegan smiled at her as he unlocked the door. His slight build and kind face matched his occupation.

  He opened the door wide and stood back so she could enter. “Good morning, Miss Landry! You’re up and about early today.”

  He said that every time she came, although he must guess her reasons for the hour. She shifted the bag holding the sign from one arm to the other and prayed for courage.

  “I see you have something in your bag already. Are you wanting to trade?” He walked to his register and leaned forward on his elbows.

  With that unexpected opening, Birdie stammered a bit in her response. “No. I mean, yes, I hope to, in the future.” She drew a breath.

  “Sit a spell and tell me what you have in mind.” He led her to a table at the back of the store underneath a sign that promised a fresh cup of coffee. Without asking, he poured some into a dainty china cup and then refilled his usual mug. “Did you bring some of Miss Kate’s doughnuts, by any chance?”

  Birdie spread out the extra pastries Miss Kate had sent with her. Mr. Finnegan took one, broke it in half, and dunked it in his coffee. “Delicious.”

  He turned the bag in Birdie’s direction. “Go ahead and take one.”

  Birdie shook her head. “Thank you, but I already had some for breakfast.”

  Ned arranged the rest on a tray, fingers tapping on a sheet of paper as he counted up the total. “Tell her I’ll add the credit to her account. People do love her doughnuts and cookies. But you didn’t come here just to bring Miss Kate’s doughnuts.” He invited her proposition with a smile. “I always welcome a chance to examine new merchandise.”

  New merchandise. Birdie’s mind fled to the day Nigel Owen had used those words to introduce her to a man he promised would be gentle with her. She shoved that thought out of her mind, reminding herself that to her knowledge, Ned Finnegan had never set foot in a saloon.

  Ned waited for Birdie—he thought of her as Birdie, as pretty as a cardinal, with hair to match—but she seemed in no hurry to speak her mind. He sent up a quick prayer for wisdom.

  Pulling something out of her bag, she laid it on her lap. He resisted the temptation to take a peek. She looked at him briefly before returning her attention to her coffee cup. “You already carry my ready-made dresses, so I have no right to ask anything more from you.”

  Ned’s heart twisted. She acted like she didn’t quite trust him, and why should she, after all she had endured at the hands of evil men? “Give her time,” God’s still, small voice urged him. So he kept his voice to a strict, businesslike enthusiasm. “You have done me a service. I sold the first dress you brought in here in two days’ time, and I’ve had several requests for more.” He folded his hands on the table. “I would be happy to take anything you create with your needle.”

  Once again the sunbonnet lifted, and he caught sight of those vivid blue eyes, as wide and as innocent as the midday sky, in spite of everything she had gone through. “Thank you for that, and I plan on bringing you more soon. But I have another proposition for you. You see, I have the opportunity to buy some laying hens….” She stalled.

  “You’re wondering if I would be interested in buying eggs.” Ned’s mind raced around possibilities. Gerard didn’t carry eggs. He calculated he could charge three cents for two eggs. “What price did you have in mind?”

  She looked at him again. “I was wondering if you would pay a dime for a half dozen?” She looked away, as if unwilling for him to examine her face.

  He would need to adjust his prices, but he didn’t hesitate. “Twenty cents a dozen, a penny apiece if you have more or less on a given day.” He offered his hand, and she shyly shook it.

  “Now can I see what you have in that bag?” He kept his voice light, but she had aroused his curiosity.

  “I’m afraid I presumed upon your kindness.” She placed the object in her lap on the table between them.

  Reading the sign, Ned laughed. “I am honored that you would offer me this business opportunity. I’ll put it in the window right away. When do you expect the hens to start laying?”

  Birdie kept her eyes on Ned while she explained her timetable for setting up the henhouse, filling it with birds, and letting them settle into their new environment. “I’ll check back with you in a week.”

  “Good. Until then … do you need any fabric? Thread? Feed?”

  Birdie opened her mouth, closed it, then glanced away as she said, “I don’t have the funds for more than the feed.”

  Tempted to respond with a “put it on account,” Ned considered how to help her without offending her pride. Somehow God had smoothed Birdie’s ruffled feathers enough to accept Aunt Kate’s offer of a roof over her head and daily food. Kate’s relationship to Gladys Polson, one of Birdie’s friends, helped. Ned had experienced Birdie’s prickly pride firsthand. But God’s love compelled him to try again.

  Something Ned ha
d heard tickled his memory. He pulled out his account books and scanned the lines. When he couldn’t make out the ragged words, he pulled his glasses from the top of his head to his eyes. He didn’t like the way he looked wearing them, but no one as lovely as Birdie Landry would ever look twice at someone as homely as he was, whether he wore glasses or not.

  He found the entry and turned the ledger so Birdie could see. “Several of my customers are eagerly awaiting your next ready-to-wear dresses. Mrs. Olson is so eager, in fact, that she paid in advance so we would hold the next dress for her. I can use your share of the money for the supplies you need.” He held his breath, hoping she would agree.

  “Mrs. Olson?” Birdie’s eyebrows furrowed. “My regular dress pattern might not fit. I want to be sure she is pleased with the product. Besides—” Sighing, she rested her fingers on the counter where the sewing notions were kept. “It’s not good business to accept pay before the work is done. That’s what happens when farmers borrow money against their crops. They end up losing the land.” Such a sad look came over her face that Ned wondered if she had experienced that herself. Maybe that had forced her away from home and into a place like the Betwixt ’n’ Between. “I don’t like to accept money before I’ve done the work.”

  Ned had an answer for that. “That’s the way I usually do my business. Get horseshoes on my Ellie, I pay the blacksmith before he starts. When I added a backroom to the store, I paid for expenses right up front.”

  “Get a meal at Miss Kate’s, and you pay after you eat the meal,” Birdie shot back. “I know the Bible says if a man doesn’t work, he doesn’t eat.” Her back straightened. She had drawn her line in the sand, and she wouldn’t cross over it.

  Ned could quote half a dozen verses that talked about taking care of widows, orphans, and the poor, but Birdie would argue she didn’t fit into any of those categories. Taking his glasses off the bridge of his nose, he scratched his head with an earpiece. “Tell you what. Do you have enough material and whatnots to make something for a baby? A quilt, a christening gown? My sister …” Heat crept into his face. He was uneasy discussing such an intimate matter. But he kept his voice steady. “She’s in a delicate condition, and I’ve been thinking about what to give her. Anything you make would be a marvelous gift. You could probably fix that up quick, and then you’d have money for additional supplies.” He kept his eyes locked on hers, willing her to agree.

  Birdie returned his stare, her features not betraying her thoughts. She had a good face for poker. At last a rare smile burst out, bathing Ned with the first rays of sunrise. “I have some scraps that would be perfect for a baby quilt. When would you like it?”

  Ned’s niece or nephew wasn’t due for six months, but Birdie didn’t need to know that. “As soon as you can finish.”

  Birdie curled her fingers against her hands one by one, as if she was calculating the hours. “I should be able to finish it by a week from this Saturday.” Her smile faded like the last hint of color on the horizon at the end of the day. “Thank you for your business, Mr. Finnegan.” With a final nod of her head, she left his store.

  Most men would do almost anything to put another one of those smiles on Birdie’s face.

  With God’s help, Ned hoped to be the one who did.

  Chapter 2

  These are all the scraps I have.” Gladys handed a bag of fabric to Birdie. “I had set these aside to show to all of you before you told me about the baby quilt. If you find anything you can use, please take it off my hands. And here are the threads I pulled out from the seams, in case you can use them as well.” She dropped a spool half full of thread into the bag of scraps without waiting for Birdie’s answer.

  Since Birdie and the others shared alike when they had extra bits of sewing materials, she didn’t refuse the offer. The materials in the bag personified the adage her ma had branded on her mind: “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” But no matter how Ma scrimped, they never had enough. Pa drank money as soon as he got ahold of it.

  Birdie reached for the spool and dropped it into her basket. Sorting through the scraps she had gathered, she decided on a pinwheel pattern in yellows, greens, and lavender. She had enough white fabric to mix with the others without purchasing anything else. “I’ve dealt with some stubborn men in my time, but I’ve never met anyone as bad as Mr. Finnegan. He wasn’t going to let me go until he found a way to give me money.”

  The other women exchanged glances, and Annie laughed out loud. She examined a square Birdie had already finished. “He’s not giving you anything. You’ve put a lot of hours into this quilt already. I couldn’t make anything so fine in a month of Saturdays.” She turned it over and examined the tiny knots on the back. “And to think you did this with leftover thread. You are a gifted seamstress.”

  Birdie’s spirits lifted at the kind words. She had used those skills to repair dresses for the other girls at the Betwixt ’n’ Between. Then there came a time when she didn’t ever want to pick up a needle again. That changed after Mrs. Fairfield talked her into joining the Ladies Sewing Circle and she’d made friends with the women in this room. Ruth described the surprising turn of events as God turning something bad into something good.

  “You’re smiling.” Gladys spoke like someone taking notes for class or a report to her newspaper editor fiancé, Haydn Keller.

  “So spill the news.” As usual, Annie was more straightforward. “You’re smiling like Christmas Day.”

  Birdie cut one of Annie’s scraps of fabric into two squares while she considered her answer. “It’s something Ruth said about God making something good out of something bad.”

  “That comes from Romans,” Ruth said. “‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’”

  “Or that verse in Isaiah about beauty for ashes.” Gladys nodded.

  Birdie looked at each woman, seeing the love in their eyes. When she first ran to the parsonage after fleeing the Betwixt ’n’ Between, she half-expected the pastor, or his wife, to throw her out. At the time, she was desperate enough to try anything. “I never imagined myself in a place like this, making something for a baby, working among friends.” Tears she bottled up while at the saloon clung to her eyelashes, as they often did these days. “God is so good.”

  Annie laid aside her knitting needles long enough to pat her arm. “Yes He is. Even my Bear has learned that much.”

  Strange how these mission projects had led to love for Gladys and then for Annie. Birdie held no such illusions for her own future. Men wanted purity in a wife, and she had given that up a long time ago. Even Christians had to live with the consequences of earlier bad choices.

  The four of them bent their heads over their sewing and knitting. “Who are you making those for, Annie?” Gladys asked. “Seems like you’ve made enough socks to keep everyone in that fort in socks for a whole week.”

  “Not quite.” Annie laughed. “They get holes in them, or they get lost in the laundry, or a new soldier comes. Jeremiah lets me know, and I don’t mind at all. And what about you? You’re making yourself another wedding quilt and not allowing us to work on it with you.”

  Ruth stitched endless arrays of diapers, sheets, and other items to give to people who came to the church in need of help. Guilt tickled Birdie’s conscience, and Ruth tilted her head. “Now what’s bothering you?” Her gray eyes softened.

  “You’re all working on your mission projects for free. And Ned is going to pay me for this.” Birdie lifted the corner of the quilt.

  Annie and Gladys exchanged a look. At Gladys’s nod, Annie said, “You ask too much of yourself, Birdie. The three of us are blessed to live with our parents. You pay for your lodging—”

  “No I don’t. I help Miss Kate, that’s all.”

  “If you didn’t live there, she would pay you for your help. She pays me when I help out at the diner,” Gladys said.

  That fact was the only reason
Birdie accepted the room. She felt better now that she had the laying hens and could offer as many eggs as Miss Kate needed for the diner.

  Ruth said, “You won’t accept help in getting your supplies, so you have to make money somehow to start on the clothes you want to give to your friends.”

  When Birdie sighed this time, peace lifted her heart like a feather on the wind. “I always feel so much better after we get together.”

  “That’s why God tells us not to forget about gathering together. It’s easier to wander away from Him when we’re alone.” Ruth finished stitching the sheet she was working on and turned down the top, starting a floral embroidery along the edge. “How is your mission project going?”

  “So-so.” When they first discussed projects in January, Birdie knew exactly what she wanted to do: help other girls stuck at the Betwixt ’n’ Between. But doing that required so many things she didn’t have yet. A small house they could share together. Proper clothing. Work. Safety. All of that took money. Ever since childhood, money had been the problem. God had provided for all her needs, just as He promised. Was she wrong to want more so that she could help others?

  Ruth worked a leaf pattern on the sheet. “It will all work out in God’s time. But it can be hard to wait.” She pulled her needle and thread through the fabric. “I keep telling myself the same thing, while I wonder when God will show me what He wants me to do.”

  Ruth already did plenty by helping her parents with the church ministries. But she wanted something more personal, a specific person or situation.

  Annie tied off a finished sock and stuck her needles through the remainder of the ball of yarn. “I’m done for the day. I need to leave soon to meet up with the Peates. Before I go, do we have any more prayer requests?”

  Birdie enjoyed this part of their meetings the most, although she was still too shy to pray in front of the others. “We should pray for Mr. Finnegan’s sister, and the baby.”