Rescuing the Runaway Bride

by Bonnie Navarro

  * * *

  Sighing deeply, Vicky looked deep into Chris’s eyes as he led her around the dance floor. Their first dance as husband and wife. Until now, she had never thought much about dancing. Had dreaded it most of the time, but now, it became an excuse to be held close to Chris. There might be over a hundred people in the room, and yet while they danced, it was as if the world ceased to exist.

  “You look so lovely today,” he whispered to her.

  “And you, Chris, very handsome?” He’d taught her the word while they were eating at the banquet.

  “Sí, mi vida. Mi reina.” She smiled at the new words someone had taught him. No longer the princess, someone had told him to call her his queen.

  “Te amo, mi rey.”

  A few minutes later, Papá took Chris’s place and led her around the floor. Ever since she was small, he had danced with her, but after her Quinceañera she felt disconnected from him. Like he was putting space between them, or maybe it was her perception. But this dance was different.

  “Hija, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you found Chris. He is a very good man. He already makes you happy. It shows on your face and in your eyes.”

  “He is wonderful, Papá. I love him.”

  “Don’t forget to visit your family here, too, child. I’ll miss my princesa, but this is as it should be. You will have your own home, where you are respected and taken care of.” He glanced up and narrowed his eyes slightly. She followed his line of sight and caught sight of the edge of Mamá’s black dress as she swept out of the ballroom, probably to retreat to her room.

  “Do not fret, Papá.” She held his gaze and met the unspoken apology there with a new confidence. “I know now that God made me beautiful for Chris. I don’t need to be what Mamá wanted me to be. Only what God made me to be. She is very sad and lonely and makes everyone else miserable because she is hurting. Please, find a way to be more kind to her. I know there are things that have hurt you, just like she has hurt me, but we must show compassion.”

  “Aye, mi’ja, how wise you have become.” He kissed her forehead once more and then led her back to the side of the room where her groom stood waiting for her.

  Magda intercepted her before she reached Chris and pulled her into a warm hug. “Mi princesa, you are so beautiful. I couldn’t be prouder.”

  “Aye, Magda, you’ve been like my mother in so many ways. I can’t thank you enough for all that you do. The wedding, the food, the dress...you organized it so perfectly.”

  “It was a joy to perform any task to see you happily married to a good man. And a handsome one at that.” Magda drew her closer once more and then let her go. “Now, go dance with that man who can’t keep his eyes off you. And don’t forget to come home for a visit from time to time.”

  “I’ll come and visit. And I expect you to come and visit our villa once it’s built. After all, I’d like to convince Rosa’s or Margarita’s family to join us there.”

  “We will see what happens here.” Magda stepped back and let Chris claim her.

  “You must come visit,” Chris insisted. He had surprised Vicky with some of the things he had understood over the last few days. “Vicky missed you when she was with us before. You are Vicky’s family, too.”

  “If God permits and Don Ruiz can make do for a few days, it would be nice to visit your new home,” Magda answered with a smile.

  Epilogue

  Vicky patted Tesoro’s neck as her horse leaned over the cool stream. She admired the wildflowers and tufts of green plants all around them. Chris sat astride Comet a few feet from her. From here they could see the work on the addition they were making to the cabin. She’d soon discovered she agreed with Chris’s desire for privacy but couldn’t turn Nana Ruth out from the cabin. Adding a two-story house to the cabin and leaving the original structure for their bedroom had been Chris’s idea, but she loved it.

  “Hey, bella, what are you thinking about?” Chris asked, pulling her down from the saddle and into his arms.

  “How good God is to us. He saved us both here, at this spot.” She pointed to where he had been standing just a few months before.

  “I’m so glad He brought you here to save my sorry hide.” Chris kissed her before she could answer. By the time he gave her a chance to speak again, she’d almost forgotten what they had been talking about.

  “He save me, too, Chris. He had Tesoro bring me home. Home to you. I never leave again,” she announced, pulling his head down for a kiss of her own.

  He grinned down at her when she finally pulled back. “Really? So you don’t want to go to the hacienda next month? José Luis finished his cabin today, and he’s going back to the hacienda tomorrow.”

  At her look, he held up a hand. “I’ve already reminded him to stop by and see you before he goes. And yes, his arm is much better. Nana checked his wound today. He and Maritza plan to get married next month and hoped we could attend.” Shaking his head as if disappointed, he shrugged, pulling her off the ground with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She loved the strength of those wonderfully broad shoulders. “I’ll just have to tell them...”

  “No, we go! We go!” Excitement filled her at the idea of going to visit everyone at the hacienda. “I learn now. I take long journey home.”

  He looked puzzled at her words, so she explained. “I leave hacienda looking for Papá without know that I looking for love and home. I go on long journey, brought me to Americano in woods and cabin with Nana Ruth. Mi Tesoro bring me home to my love and my new life.”

  “It’s true, Vicky, this is your home. And it took a long journey to get here, but you made it. We both did.”

  “I home here, with you.” She slid a hand to his cheek and caressed it and then tapped his chest. “This my home. We stay here or you take me to hacienda, to South Carolina or España. If I can come here—” again she tapped his chest above his heart “—I home.”

  He pulled her in tight. “You are my home as well, Vicky. I love you.”

  “Te amo, Chris.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, knowing he truly loved her. And had shown her that God had always loved her, too. She’d found her earthly home with Chris and had certainty that someday she’d go to her celestial home now that she had learned that God loved her and accepted her exactly the way He had made her.

  But before that happened, she intended to live a long and happy life with the best man she had ever known.

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss the other heartwarming

  historical romance from Bonnie Navarro:

  INSTANT PRAIRIE FAMILY

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MONTANA COWBOY FAMILY by Linda Ford.

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  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for coming on this journey with Vicky and Chris. They have a special place in my heart and hopefully in yours now. Growing up, different cultures and languages fascinated me. The church I attended actively supported many missionaries, and I would pepper them with questions about their foods, languages and customs. In high school, I became involved in tutoring students newly arrived to the United States. Charades and a lot of pointing became a way of communication.

  When I went to college, I met a man from Peru, and although he spoke English, he promised to help me learn Spanish by speaking only Spanish with me from then on. This June we will celebrate twenty-four years of marriage, and he still speaks “only Spanish” to me. I guess he’s kept his word. There have been times in our marriage where we have had issues with communication, sometimes because of the language, but most often because men and women
are wired differently—for which I am extremely grateful.

  As I’ve met people from all over the world or right around the block, I am constantly reminded that we are all God’s princes and princesses. And despite our differences we are all so very much the same. We all have fears, we all need to be loved and to love. We need community. We all want a hero who loves us enough to risk his own life to save us. I thank God that He is our hero. He loves each and every one of us regardless of our race, background, language, economic situation or education. And actually, He loves that we are diverse. After all, He designed each and every one of us and declares His creation “Good.”

  I’d love to hear what you think about Vicky and Chris’s journey, or you can share your own. You can email me at bonnie12navarro@gmail.com.

  May God keep you and bless you on your journey.

  Blessings,

  Bonnie Navarro

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  Montana Cowboy Family

  by Linda Ford

  Chapter One

  Bella Creek, Montana, 1890

  Logan Marshall stared at the place where he’d left his lunch. The sack was gone. The second day in a row. Stolen. The muscles in his jaw bunched. Nothing bothered him worse than any form of dishonesty. His stomach rumbled. How could he work without food to fuel his strength? And Grandfather would expect Logan to be working. The school wasn’t finished. As a Marshall and grandson of the founder of Bella Creek, Logan had to do his share and had been assigned the task of rebuilding the schoolhouse. It, along with all the buildings in that block, had burned to the ground during the winter.

  Following the fire, the doctor and teacher had left, requiring the town and the Marshalls to find replacements. The doctor’s residence and office had been rebuilt already and Logan glanced at the new building next door where Dr. Baker and his daughter, Kate, lived and worked. Kate had brought her friend, Isabelle Redfield, with her, and Isabelle had since married Logan’s brother, Dawson.

  He shifted his attention across the street to his uncle’s mercantile store. The new teacher, Sadie Young, presently held classes in the back room of the store, but every day she crossed to her living quarters in the rear of the schoolhouse. Grandfather had decided her rooms should be finished before completing the classroom, saying it wasn’t suitable for her to continue living in the hotel.

  Daily, as she made her way from the store, she stopped to see how much progress had been made on the rebuilding. He understood she was in a hurry to have her students moved into the school, but he couldn’t rush the work if he wanted it done right.

  Besides those daily visits, he’d met her several times since she had come to Bella Creek with the others. Sadie Young was about his age with brown hair, a perfect oval face, hazel eyes like late-summer leaves, and healthy-looking skin. Not a bad-looking woman, but she was so shy he wondered how she managed to teach. Something about her shyness triggered a protective note in him, which he managed to quell.

  He wasn’t interested in her for any reason. He might be only twenty-two, but he had learned enough lessons about women to last a lifetime and to make him completely wary of them. He rocked his head back and forth. Once he’d been enamored of a woman he considered to be ideal. She’d seemed so sweet and innocent. He’d been shocked to learn she had questionable morals. She’d teased him into following her to the nearby rough town of Wolf Hollow, where he’d thought he could protect her, but he ended up trapped by his shame and her continued deceit. Learning that his ma lay on her deathbed had brought him home, and he’d promised Ma he’d never fall into such a trap again. Later, after Ma’s death, when Logan was what he considered to be a mature eighteen-year-old, he met a woman and her daughter when they moved into the boardinghouse. The girl seemed like a gentle young lady. She went to church with him and attended the family dinners. But it turned out she was part of a gang and was setting up a robbery. Worse, even, she was married to one of the robbers.

  He figured it would take a lot for him to ever again trust a woman. Even more for him to trust his own judgment.

  His experience was enough to make him look at Miss Young with a certain guardedness. But never mind Miss Young. Logan had to find his lunch before the thief ate it all. He eased around the schoolhouse, eyes sweeping the area for clues. A flash of material behind the stack of lumber at the back of the lot caught his attention. He eased forward. What kind of robber stopped so close to the scene of his crime?

  He edged around the corner of the lumber pile, his muscles tensed to spring forward, but at the sight of a little boy opening up Logan’s lunch sack, he ground to a halt, his anger completely gone. This was one of Miss Young’s students. What was the child doing over here when he should be in the classroom with the other children?

  The boy looked up, saw that he was discovered and stuffed the sack behind his back. He considered Logan with wide brown eyes, doing his best to look innocent.

  Logan took a moment studying the boy. He had on overalls so thin you could spit through them. There was a button missing on his shirt. His dark blond hair was in sore need of a cut. Logan didn’t recognize the child. There must be a new family in the area he hadn’t heard of.

  “I think you have my lunch,” he said in a slow, lazy drawl.

  The boy’s thin shoulders came forward. He twisted his hands palms upward as if to prove he had nothing.

  Was there anything sadder than a hungry boy? His own hunger gnawed at his stomach. He lowered himself to the ground, his back to the lumber. The boy drew his legs closer to his body and watched Logan.

  Logan saw how tense the boy was. “What’s your name?”

  “Sammy.”

  “Got a last name?”

  “Sammy Weiss.”

  “Howdy. I’m Logan Marshall.” He stretched his legs out. “Guess you’re as hungry as me. Think we could share the lunch?”

  Sammy waited, and when he realized Logan wasn’t giving up, he pulled the sack from behind him and handed it to Logan, his eyes never leaving the promise of food.

  Logan carefully divided the lunch into two portions. The boy’s eyes followed every move of Logan’s fingers. He passed one half of the food to Sammy.

  “I like to thank God for my food before I eat.”

  Sammy bowed his head, loudly swallowing saliva.

  “Thanks for food and sunshine and fresh air and good work. Amen.”

  Before Logan could lift his sandwich to his mouth, young Sammy had taken a large bite. He ate like a boy who wondered where he’d find his next meal. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” Logan knew everyone within a
forty-mile radius.

  Sammy nodded. He pushed his mouthful of food to one cheek. “Been here more’n a week.”

  “Where’d you come from afore that?”

  “Wolf Hollow.”

  That explained his grubby clothes and hunger. The rough mining town to the west had its share of men and women whose dreams of making it rich had been shattered by reality.

  “Where are you living?”

  Sammy jerked his thumb over his shoulder as if that provided all the information needed.

  They ate in silence, Sammy’s full attention on his food while Logan contemplated what to do about the boy.

  Sammy finished before Logan, so Logan stuffed what was left back in the sack to eat later and pushed to his feet. “I expect the teacher will have noticed your absence by now.”

  They could hear someone approaching. A woman called, “Sammy? Where are you?” The schoolmarm must have realized she was missing one of her students.

  Sammy jerked to his feet and flung about, seeking escape.

  Logan caught him by the collar, a little disconcerted when the boy shrank back, his eyes blinking at a galloping rate. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to face up to your sins like a man.”

  Sammy straightened but his jaw quivered.

  Miss Young held up her skirts as she ran around the school building in search of Sammy. She wore a dark gray skirt as plain as unbuttered bread and a white shirtwaist fitted so tightly around her neck it must surely choke her.

  At the sight of Sammy in Logan’s grasp, she dropped her skirt and ran her hands over her head to make sure every hair was in place. Logan was pretty sure not one single strand would dare escape.