Hearts Stolen (Texas Romance Series Book 2)

by Caryl McAdoo

  A Texas Romance

  Five Star Reviews of previous title

  Vow Unbroken by Caryl McAdoo

  With an intriguing plot line and well-developed characters, McAdoo, who's written nonfiction and children's fiction, delivers an engaging read for her first adult historical romance. --Publishers Weekly

  After reading Caryl McAdoo's story of Henry and Susannah in "VOW UNBROKEN," I felt like I'd had another adventure with Tom Sawyer and Becky, this time as young adults. --Alan Daugherty: columnist The News-Banner

  Caryl McAdoo is a new unique voice in historical Christian fiction. I fell in love with the characters from the very first page. They pulled me into their lives and kept me there through the whole interesting storyline. I found the setting authentic, and Caryl kept me turning pages. I know you’ll love this book as well as I did.

  --Lena Nelson Dooley, award winning, best-selling author

  Of Maggie’s Journey, Mary’s Blessing, Catherine’s Pursuit & many more novels

  Loved this story! Fresh strong voice from Caryl McAdoo…most memorable character [heroine Sue Baylor] I’ve encountered in some time. Well plotted and nicely paced. There’s a Louis L’Amour and All-American feel to Caryl’s writing. Beautiful romance, one of the nicest I’ve seen in a while. --Carrie Fancett Pagels, author

  Return to Shirley Plantation, a Civil War romance

  A Really "Wow" Debut Novel! I loved this book--fast paced, adventurous, and satisfyingly wholesome. Oh, you are going to love this book. --Anne Baxter Campbell, author

  The Truth Trilogy: The Roman’s Quest, Marcus Varitor, Centurion, and What Is Truth

  Five Star Reviews …continued

  Caryl McAdoo's fiction hooks fast and reads like a seasoned author's historical adventure. I soon felt intricate participation with the pieced family group. Fast paced story… typical of rugged pioneer struggle in Mexican Texas era... with period jargon, scenery, and historical facts… complete with spiritual bliss and a rainbow's end. Christian Romantic Historical Adventure Fiction--a BIG genre for a whole lot of novel for all ages, men and girls.

  -- Howard “Doc” Wolfe, top Amazon reviewer

  Outstanding! Caryl did an excellent job of creating flawed but endearing characters—even Blue Dog—who steal your heart. It lifts your soul and sticks with you long after you turn the last page. Can’t wait to read the next book! I hope she’s a fast writer because I want more! Vow Unbroken taps into every human emotion in the characters and in the reader. Simply one of the best!

  -- Holly Michael, author

  Crooked Lines

  Caryl McAdoo has penned a beautifully flowing story… a wonderful tale that will find its way into your heart. You couldn’t ask for more endearing characters. Caryl’s sweet storytelling made me feel like I was enjoying this adventure up close and personal, and by the time I finished, I felt like a part of this precious family! …a truly satisfying read! --Teresa Matthews, Overcoming With God (blog)

  Vow Unbroken is a delightful historical fiction novel with clean romance of life in the 1800’s. Ms. McAdoo does a splendid job of developing the characters you really can care about and putting together an interesting plot with excellent pacing. I loved this truth in this book.

  -- Kathryn Svendsen, reviewer

  Shelf Full of Books (blog)

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, places, characters, and events are products of the author’s imaginations, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  If you’ve purchased this book without a cover, please be aware that it was reported as unsold to the publisher, therefore neither the author nor publisher have been paid. If a stripped copy, it should be considered stolen.

   2014 by Caryl McAdoo

  All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever- except short passages for reviews – without express permission. For information, address Post Office Box 622, Clarksville, Texas, 75426.

  First Edition

  September 2014

  Printed and bound in the United States of America

  ISBN-13 978-1-5003-3651-1

  ISBN-10 1-5003-3651-3

  Cover Art by Kirk DouPonce of Dogeared Design, Woodland Park, CO.

  www.dogeareddesign.com

  Interior Book Design by Lee Carver

  Inquiries for volume purchases of this book may be directed to

  Post Office Box 622, Clarksville, Texas 75426

  For contact with the author or speaking engagements, please visit www.CarylMcAdoo.com

  Dedication

  Without my dearest and most beloved best friend, my high school sweetheart and husband of forty-six years, his inspiration, support, and encouragement, this story would never have been. Ron McAdoo stole my heart—well, I gave it to him—when we were sweet sixteen. This kind and patient man always seeks out the good and positive and whenever possible, disregards the bad and negative.

  His example of living a Christ-like life ever before me has made me a better woman and challenged me always to grow closer to God. Lest I infer that he is perfect, let me assure you, he is not, but through my eyes of love, he does come close—most of the time.

  Sweetheart, thank you for choosing me; I love you more today than yesterday, but less than tomorrow.

  And to Daddy, a voracious reader who asked for this manuscript concerned he might not be here on its release date. He did get to read it just before his retina detached. So surprised his firstborn could write a story that held his attention so utterly, he told me, “I can’t say this is twice as good as book one, but it’s close!” I’m so glad he enjoyed it before his home going on July 31, 2014. I’m glad you were my father, Daddy!

  Acknowledgements

  Only One deserves all the glory for anything I accomplish, my Abba who loves me so. He never ceases to amaze me, constantly showering me with His favor and grace, knowing ahead of time what I need and providing it. Every person below; God brought them into my life. Words aren’t enough to express how I’m blessed by their love and help.

  I thank my husband. I already gushed over him in the Dedication, but if y’all only knew him, how he treats me, you’d know why I do. I promise, without Ron, I couldn’t write the stories for you all to enjoy!

  Thank you, Kirk DouPonce of DogEared Design for creating my beautiful cover. So great knowing you’re a gifted Christian led by God, too. And you, Lee Carver! Thank you for helping me get it together.

  Authors need a few special volunteers to read the manuscript and help catch mistakes: typos, missing articles (a, the, by, for), wrong words, transpositions, echo words or phrases used to often. The writer knows what it’s supposed to say and reads right over too many uh-ohs. These ladies’ help… Well, my heart swells with appreciation: Louise Koiner, Leah Jones, Holly Michael, Susan Karstan, and Telena Contreras.

  During the throes of getting this book ready, I lost Daddy and my Uncle Jim a week apart—both eighty-five, and the last of their generation. I fell way behind editing. God sent Lenda Selph who tracked me down to proofread for me. What a divine appointment! Brought grateful tears. Oh, my, what a blessing you are, Lenda!

  And everyone who leaves a review at Amazon and Goodreads, clicks ‘Share’ and ‘Like’ on Facebook, Tweets, and recommends my books to friends. I need y’all and thank y’all and know God will bless you for blessing me! My cup overflows!

  “No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are ab
le, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it.”

  1 Corinthians 10:13

  Chapter

  One

  Just thinking about him made Sassy want to stick her tongue out like she used to do to her father when he ordered her around. But Charles had married her, and she promised to love, honor, and obey him.

  She loved the man alright, leastwise she guessed she did. If he’d only treat her like a wife, not a child.... Of everyone, he should understand most that she was grown; coming on sixteen, as mature as she would ever get.

  Rosaleen he’d called her. She hated her given name. Pshaw, she could do both, visit her mamma and have his ol’ supper ready. As the sun peeked over the treetops, Sassy leaned forward and tickled the mare’s ribs with her heels.

  “Haw, pretty girl; we don’t have all day. He said he’ll be back by dark.”

  Stretching her gait, the mare flew over the rolling terrain. The wind whipped Sassy’s hair behind her. Oh, how she loved riding, always had. In barely any time, she slowed the mare into a lope and topped the last hill before Kickapoo Creek.

  That’s where she always let Bliss get a sweet drink, but not too much, from the easy flowing stream. With only another eight miles to her folks’ place, she might make it in time for some breakfast leftovers. She clicked her tongue.

  Her mare cleared the far bank, then her snort and shiver shifted Sassy’s attention to follow Bliss’ gaze. Two bare-chested Indians sat on painted ponies. The bigger one pointed a long-handled club at her and whooped.

  Sassy hammered her heels into the mare’s ribs. The gray shot forward, hitting a full gallop in fewer than ten strides.

  Calm, stay calm, but her heart beat like the nines. She’d never lost a race in her life, not on Bliss. She definitely couldn’t lose this one. With a good lead, she’d outrun the little ponies.

  But as much as she pressed the mare, Sassy didn’t feel the horse giving the normal punch she counted on. Never should’ve run almost the whole way to the Kickapoo. Should have thought….

  She glanced under her arm. They cut the butter. Closing in. Her heart skipped. She tensed. Held her breath. Willed her horse to run faster. The reins slapped back and forth across Bliss’ neck. Sassy bent low.

  Where should she go? Was anyone nearer than her daddy?

  The whoops behind her moved closer.

  Everything happened in slow motion.

  One of the Indians came even. He glanced over and smiled a sickening grin.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  No, God, no.

  His dark-skinned hand reached toward her mare’s head. Sassy yanked Bliss the other way, but he grabbed the bridle. No, God. He reined his paint, squealing words Sassy didn’t know.

  Bliss matched the slower pace of the pony beside her.

  Sassy swiped at his hand. “Let go! Get your hand off my horse!” She slapped his arm with the ends of her reins.

  The second rode up on the opposite side and grabbed hold of her arm. He yanked his horse to a stop. Bliss ran right out from under Sassy. She went flying through the air screaming.

  Gravity claimed its due, and she hit the ground. She stumbled then found her feet and ran. Her stupid petticoats and skirt tangled around her ankles. She tripped and ate a mouthful of black dirt.

  The Indians laughed. She scrambled to her feet and faced them, spitting dirt, her fists balled. “Come on, you think you can take me.”

  They looked at one another and spoke strange words. One punched the other on the shoulder, grinning.

  “Sure, go ahead. Have your fun. I’ll show you.”

  They slid off their ponies. The smaller of the two started toward her, jumping out of reach each time she took a swing. The bigger one moved in closer.

  Sassy jabbed hard with her left fist and caught him square on the jaw. “Haw! Teach you to mess with me.” Didn’t grow up with five brothers for nothing.

  Reeling, he rubbed his face. The smaller boy laughed at him, slapping his belly with one hand, waving at the air with his other. Sore Jaw shouted angry words and pointed.

  The other quit laughing. He looked at her and grinned that same sickening smile when he’d grabbed Bliss.

  “Come on, you little coward. Scared of a girl?”

  He stepped in fast. A swift kick to his gut doubled him over. Both his hands grabbed his middle. An upper cut caught his chin solid. Dazed him. She jabbed his nose with a left. Followed with a haymaker to his jaw. He stumbled back and to the side.

  The big one laughed and pointed, obviously making great fun of his friend.

  Little Coward glared, bared his teeth and ran straight at her. Stepping sideways, she tripped on her torn bloomers. Hit her square and knocked her backwards. He landed on top, straddling her. She couldn’t breathe, needed air. He held her arms down with his knees and spat in her face.

  “Aaagghh. Get off me.”

  He hit her hard, harder than any of her brothers ever had. She bucked and bumped, rolled full circle out from beneath him, then away. Taking full advantage of his lost balance, she kicked him again. Scooted backwards on the ground, glaring.

  The redskin would never make her cry.

  He scrambled to his feet, leapt at her. Hit her again and again in the face, stomach, chest and arms. Sassy crumpled to the ground and curled up. He kicked her until the bigger one pulled him off.

  His words sounded angry. Little Coward stood over her and spat on her face. She lay perfectly still. Her head pounded against her skull, like a busted watermelon, its red meat lying out in the sun.

  Everything hurt.

  Sore Jaw grabbed her hand and pulled her up and forward, but her feet offered no foundation. Her legs refused to hold her erect. He ducked one shoulder and threw her over it. Could her upside down view be a sign of her life now? Nothing would ever be right again.

  Little Coward sneered.

  Her arms dangled toward the ground swinging as her captor walked. He threw her over Bliss, her stomach across the saddle then tied her hands and feet to the stirrups.

  Oh, dear Lord.

  She should have listened to Charles.

  Only after Swift Arrow crossed many creeks and the sun lay well below the horizon did he stop his march. Once he cut her loose and hobbled his new gray pony to graze, he relaxed, sat on his haunches, and chewed on a chunk of buffalo jerky.

  In the last of the day’s pale light, he studied the fiery-haired female as she lay on her side. He held out the dried meat, and though knowing she wouldn’t understand the People’s tongue, asked, “Hungry?”

  She spit at him then rattled off strange words. Crazy woman. Even with her hands tied behind her back and her legs bound, she struggled against the leather straps.

  Never had he seen or heard about a white woman fighting like this one. Even now, her face ugly and swollen, both eyes blackened, she glared with hate.

  Little Beaver stood. “I will kill her and eat her liver. The old ones will sing about this day for years.”

  Swift Arrow jumped to his feet. “She is worth many ponies. No one will kill the woman. I subdued her. She is mine.”

  “Ha. Only after I beat all the fight out of the white wild cat. You must share her price.” His friend glared then held up two fingers. “No, three.” He added a finger. “Bold Eagle will give his best horses for that fiery head.”

  “Agreed, but you will not touch one hair.” He tossed the last bite of jerky at the white woman. It landed a hand’s span away from her mouth. He faced his friend. “Rest now. The moon will show our way tonight. We cross the river before anyone knows she’s gone.”

  Sassy wanted the piece of meat, but wasn’t about to eat it off the dirt, or let that Indian think she would accept any crumb he had to offer. She wasn’t sure exactly what Little Coward had in mind, but from his tone, was grateful that the bigger one had put an end to it. She closed her eyes and willed herself to rest. Sooner or later, one of them would untie her, and then she’d be gone.


  Instead of sleep, the morning’s events replayed again and again before her mind’s eye. Each command Charles issued and all the angry words she’d loosed right up until he left.

  Every rebellious step she took after that haunted her. Would he guess what had happened to her? Would anyone ever know?

  He would see she’d taken Bliss, but would he bother to check on her? He might think for a day or two that she was upset and staying at her parents’.

  So wrapped up in his logging, the man might not have even come home. Wouldn’t be the first time he stayed in the woods all night without so much as a word. Or an apology. Or boo, or anything.

  The more she pondered her predicament, the more tears tried to well. But no matter how bad things got, she would never let these thieves see her cry.

  None of her brothers had ever seen her cry since – when? She couldn’t remember, but she hadn’t been too old when she decided they’d never get her goat again.

  Her brothers. If they only knew, they would come for her. Images of her family flooded her soul. Mama and Daddy. Would she ever see any of them again this side of heaven?

  Oh, Lord! Why did He let it happen? Had she really been that bad? She only wanted to visit her mother and help her get the apples put up. Maybe take home something out of Mama’s garden for Charles’ supper.

  Strong hands jerked her to her feet. Sore Jaw threw her over Bliss then tied her as before. She already hurt all over and hated riding like that. He said something to his partner, then they were off again. Upside down, she couldn’t recognize anything, but figured they headed north for the Red.