McKenzie

by Penny Zeller

  What People Are Saying about Penny Zeller and McKenzie…

  Penny Zeller writes with wit, brilliance, descriptive clarity, and gentle, inspirational prose. She provides a plentiful supply of intrigue, romance, and drama, truly enough to keep anyone reading during every spare moment. I am eager to watch the impact this book will make on Christian fiction as a whole, but especially on individual readers, as they clearly find a well-defined yet never preachy message of God’s unchanging, never-failing, ever-forgiving gospel. This book is intended for your keeper library shelf, with its beautiful cover, endearing story line, and gripping characters who will stay with you. Don’t delay in adding it to your to-be-read pile. Matter of fact, lay it on the top!

  —Sharlene MacLaren

  Award-winning, best-selling author,

  the Little Hickman Creek and The Daughters of Jacob Kane series, Through Every Storm, and Long Journey Home

  Penny Zeller’s McKenzie is a moving, compelling story that’s rich with panoramic beauty and characters you’ll identify with. You will laugh, you will weep, you will wish you had taken speed-reading in school so you could find out even faster what happens next! I’m definitely adding this one to my keepers list!

  —Loree Lough

  Award-winning author of seventy-five novels, including Beautiful Bandit (book one in the Lone Star Legends series)

  McKenzie is a captivating tale weaved together masterfully with characters that quickly steal the reader’s heart. They certainly did mine.

  —Shirley Kiger Connolly

  Author, Flame from Within and the I See God series

  McKenzie is a sweet love story that transcends the pages of time and brings a fresh, new voice to the historical genre.

  —Bonnie Calhoun

  Publisher, Christian Fiction Online Magazine

  GPCWC Writer of the Year, 2009

  With a gentle touch and warm style, Zeller pens a story that looks deep into the heart of love—the kind between sisters that her heroine would do anything to honor, and the unexpected romance that springs up in its pursuit. McKenzie is a novel that will lead you on an adventure along with the title character and touch your heart as Zach touches hers.

  —Roseanna M. White

  Author, A Stray Drop of Blood

  Senior Reviewer, The Christian Review of Books

  Publisher’s Note:

  This novel is a work of fiction. References to real events, organizations, or places are used in a fictional context. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Holy Bible. Scripture quotation in the Acknowledgments marked (niv) is from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, niv®, © 1973, 1978, 1984 by the International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  McKenzie

  Book One in the Montana Skies Series

  Penny Zeller

  www.pennyzeller.com

  ISBN: 978-1-60374-216-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  © 2010 by Penny Zeller

  Whitaker House

  1030 Hunt Valley Circle

  New Kensington, PA 15068

  www.whitakerhouse.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Zeller, Penny, 1973–

  McKenzie / by Penny Zeller.

  p. cm. — (Montana skies ; bk. 1)

  Summary: “McKenzie Worthington heads west as a mail-order bride with plans to return to Boston as soon as she finds and rescues her sister, Kaydie, from an abusive marriage. What she didn’t count on was falling in love with her husband, a handsome, godly rancher named Zach Sawyer”—Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-60374-216-0 (trade pbk.)

  1. Single women—Fiction. 2. Sisters—Fiction. 3. Abused wives—Fiction

  4. Adultery—Fiction. 5. Montana—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3626.E3565M33 2010

  813’.6—dc22

  2010019273

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical—including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system—without permission in writing from the publisher. Please direct your inquiries to permissionseditor@whitakerhouse.com.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thanks to the following:

  Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior—May my writing always glorify You and bring others to a knowledge of Your saving grace.

  My husband, Lon—Thank you for your encouragement and support. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!

  My children—You are such blessings in my life! I love you and thank God for you daily.

  My grandmother, Ruth Brown—Thank you for your enthusiasm in reading each new manuscript I send your way.

  Barbara Dafoe—Thank you for your wisdom, insight, and inspiration.

  Fellow author, Sharlene MacLaren—Thank you for your encouragement. I want to be just like you when I grow up!

  My editor at Whitaker House, Courtney Hartzel—You have been awesome to work with. Thank you for all you do.

  Christine Whitaker and the staff at Whitaker House—What a blessing and a privilege to work with such an outstanding company!

  My readers—May God bless you as you grow daily in your walk with Him.

  —Penny Zeller

  May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight,

  O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

  —Psalm 19:14 (niv)

  To Madi

  CHAPTER ONE

  September 18, 1881 • Boston, Massachusetts

  Clutching the envelope that had just been delivered to her home, McKenzie Worthington walked into the parlor and closed the doors behind her. Sitting down, she ran her finger over the familiar, hasty penmanship on the outside of the envelope. There was no return address, but McKenzie already knew who had sent the letter. Bracing herself for the words on the pages within, she carefully opened the seal and unfolded the tattered, soiled piece of stationery.

  My dearest sister McKenzie,

  I write this letter with a heavy heart and a fearful spirit. I am convinced that Darius is not the man I thought him to be when I married him. He drinks almost continually, and when there is no more money to purchase his whiskey, he places the blame on me. He used all the money in my trousseau long ago, and we are constantly on the run to avoid the law. His threats are many if I dare turn him in to the local sheriff.

  We are without food much of the time, but Darius always finds funds for his alcohol. All the money sent to me in the past, he has found a way to spend. I wish more than anything that I could find a way to leave this place and return home. However, he has threatened my life if I leave and has arranged for several of his friends at the saloon to keep an eye on me. One of his friends, Bulldog, lives nearby and watches my every move. He scares me to death, McKenzie.

  Please, help me get away from my husband. He is such a mean man with a horrid temper. I fear for my life, at times. If he knew I was writing to you, I know he would kill me. I ask again that you please not tell Mother and Father the seriousness of my situation, since they will surely say that I deserve it for running away with Darius. But please come, and come quickly.

  With much love,

  Kaydie

  When she had finished reading the letter, McKenzie clutched it to her chest. She could feel a tear threatening to fall, and she diverted her attention to the mantel above the fireplace. A large, three-foot-square oil painting hung proudly in the same place it had for the past ten years. McKenzie stared at the three people in the portrait and suddenly yearned for things to be as they had been then. Time had passed so quickly; the
years of her childhood seemed barely a whisper in the conversation of life.

  On the left-hand side of the painting, McKenzie’s younger sister, Kaydie, posed in her pink satin gown. Her long, blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, and her brown eyes seemed to hold a sparkle that McKenzie knew was long gone due to Kaydie’s present circumstances.

  Sitting on a higher stool in the middle, McKenzie’s older sister, Peyton, emphasized her role as the eldest and most favored Worthington daughter. Beneath her dark, rolling locks, her large, green eyes held the look of arrogance and superiority that she continually flaunted over her less-preferred sisters.

  On the right-hand side, her head tilted toward Kaydie’s, sat McKenzie, then fourteen years old. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was pinned up at the sides, and she wore her favorite turquoise gown. The smirk on McKenzie’s face had caused her mother great disturbance. “Proper ladies never smile in a portrait. Your father will be so disappointed,” her mother had scolded her. “We shall have to insist the painting be redone.”

  The artist had been paid a reduced fee for failing to change McKenzie’s smile to a look of solemnity and had never been asked to paint any further portraits for the Worthington family. So, the portrait of Arthur and Florence Worthington’s daughters had never been repainted.

  Once the servants had hung it above the mantel, there it had remained, serving as a memory in different ways to the different members of the Worthington household. To Peyton, it was a reminder that she was the eldest and the most obedient. To McKenzie and Kaydie, it was a reminder of enjoyable days past, when they would secretly embark on adventures that were considered unbecoming for young women from families of prestige and wealth. To McKenzie’s mother, the portrait was a disgrace because of McKenzie’s smirk, and to her father, it was the observance of a costly tradition that had been carried on from generation to generation.

  McKenzie scanned the portrait again, her focus stopping on Kaydie’s face. Hang on, my dear Kaydie. I promise I will figure out a way to save you from Darius. Please don’t give up hope, she silently begged her sister. I don’t know how I will do it or when, only that I will. This much I promise you.

  McKenzie sat for a moment longer in the quietness of the parlor. She recalled her parents’ disturbance when their youngest daughter had eloped with Darius Kraemer and moved West with him.

  McKenzie’s mother had covered her mouth with her left hand and fanned herself with her right, clearly indicating her dismay at the situation. “I am so distraught by Kaydie’s marriage that I can barely manage day-to-day living,” she’d lamented.

  “She never should have married a man so far beneath her. Now we’ll likely never hear from her again,” Peyton had said, sipping her tea. “Of course, Kaydie was always the one who thought she could do whatever she pleased and face the consequences later.” Peyton’s voice had done little to hide her smugness. “I would never do such a thing. Not only was it an unwise decision to marry someone without a pedigree and move far from civilization, but it has brought nothing but shame to the Worthington family. I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve had to make up stories to explain her absence in order to preserve our family’s impeccable reputation.”

  McKenzie had glared at her older sister. “Now, Peyton, not everyone can marry such a fine gentleman as Maxwell Adams,” she’d said with more than a hint of sarcasm, thinking of how grateful she was that she herself hadn’t married Maxwell, or anyone like him. While he was polite and treated Peyton well, he was also stuffy and prudish, and he seemed incapable of doing anything for himself. It had been Peyton who had secured his position at their father’s law office. Maxwell hadn’t even been able to apply for the job himself. In McKenzie’s opinion, Maxwell was a helpless, spineless, sorry excuse for a man.

  “At least I am married,” Peyton had said, glaring at her sister, “unlike some people I know.” Peyton never missed an opportunity to rub in the fact that McKenzie, as an unmarried woman, was an oddity in a society that held marriage as the highest priority for women—marriage to a man from a wealthy family and with a thriving career, of course. The fact that Peyton had been successful on both accounts gave her an edge over a sister who in most other respects won the competition war.

  “Now, girls, please. This bickering between the two of you must stop,” their mother had said, wringing her hands.

  “You’re right, Mother. It is a shame that McKenzie doesn’t conduct herself in a manner more in line with our upbringing,” Peyton had said, smiling smugly at her mother.

  McKenzie shook her head now and pictured her mother. With the exception of her long, gray-blonde hair and the age difference, she and Peyton could be twins. Her mother’s large, emerald eyes made her look as though she were in a constant state of surprise. Her pert, upturned nose further conveyed the air about her that she knew she was from one of the wealthier families in the Boston area, both by birth and by marriage.

  “Marry a man of wealth, have children, attend social gatherings, and busy yourself with acceptable volunteer work” were the maxims McKenzie’s mother sought to instill in her daughters. Kaydie had managed to fulfill one of those wishes—she’d married. Yet, it had been in defiance of her parents’ desire, for Darius was hardly wealthy. Yes, they had met while doing volunteer work, but, based on what McKenzie knew now, it had probably been a ruse.

  The chiming of the tall, mahogany clock in the corner brought McKenzie back to the present, and she again focused her attention on Kaydie’s predicament. She knew that mailing money to Kaydie to secure her fare to Boston would be impossible, as she had no access to any funds; the money in her dowry would be passed to her husband alone.

  Poor Kaydie had thought her normally calm and complacent life would be so full of adventure when she’d agreed to marry the wayward Darius. He’d captured her heart and taken her from security and wealth to the dangerous, uncivilized Wild West. Granted, he was an attractive man with allure brimming in his erratic personality. He’d even said all the things Kaydie had longed to hear, making the men of Boston pale in comparison. Only after it was too late had Kaydie discovered that Darius made his living by swindling and robbing. When things didn’t go according to plan, he took out his fury, both verbal and physical, on Kaydie, essentially holding her hostage in her own marriage.

  Now, Kaydie was suffering because she’d fallen in love with what had turned out to be a mere façade. Her dowry, which Darius had been after from the beginning, had been spent while Kaydie had been blinded by the love she’d thought she had found.

  McKenzie had always been closest to Kaydie and knew that there must be a way to help her. Besides, she knew Kaydie would do the same if the situation were reversed. She reached up to twirl one of her tendrils between her finger and her thumb, as she habitually did when she was in deep thought. Not one to allow discouragement to defeat her, McKenzie knew she had to be the one to concoct a plan to rescue her sister. Kaydie’s life depended on it. No one else knew of the four letters Kaydie had mailed intermittently to McKenzie. McKenzie had been sworn to secrecy regarding Kaydie’s predicament, and, besides, her parents would no doubt have no shortage of words regarding their judgment of their youngest daughter’s poor choice. No one else knew the way her life had taken a turn for the worse. No one else knew of Kaydie’s desperation. McKenzie was the only one who knew and the only one who could help. But how would she afford the trip west? And, once she got there, where would she stay? Who would protect her while she searched potentially dangerous towns for her sister?

  Just then, it came to her—an idea so crazy, she thought that it just might work.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Six weeks prior • Pine Haven, Montana Territory

  I would love to help you write an advertisement,” said Lucille Granger, her eyes holding a twinkle.

  Zach looked at Lucille, with her gray hair swooped in a tight bun on her head, pulled back so tightly that it made her eyes turn up at the outer corners. Her plump fingers awaited th
e go-ahead to assist Zach with the task he anticipated yet dreaded. He’d known Lucille for over a decade. She and her husband, Fred, had been more than kind to Zach when he’d first moved to Pine Haven with little more than a bedroll. They’d given him a job at Granter Mercantile, the store they owned and operated, and had become a surrogate aunt and uncle to him.

  Surely, Lucille would be able to carry out the task she so eagerly awaited. After all, Zach reasoned, Lucille had an education and was very creative. She would have just the talent Zach needed to help him land a wife for himself and a mother for Davey. Yet, she did have one negative aspect of her personality—a penchant for gossip. It wasn’t that she was malicious or desired to cause trouble, but she simply struggled with keeping interesting information to herself. It was like her delicious, homemade honey bread, which was famous for a twenty-five-mile radius—she couldn’t wait to share it. Once someone took the chance of telling Lucille any news, it wasn’t long before the entire town knew.

  “All right, Lucille, but you have to promise me you’ll take this seriously, not tell anyone, and do your best in the advertisement to make me sound like a decent man.”

  “That won’t be hard, Zach. You are a very decent man, and I will take it seriously,” Lucille said. He didn’t miss her neglect to mention his other request. Still, he figured finding a wife would be worth the risk of having Lucille spill juicy gossip all over town.

  Lucille reached for a pencil and tapped it on the counter. “I’m going to think on this in between customers, and we’ll meet again tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “That would be fine, Lucille,” Zach said. He picked up the bag of flour he’d purchased and turned to exit the store.

  “By the way, Zach, would you like for me to mention Davey in the ad?”

  Zach thought for a moment. “Not right at first, Lucille. I’ll reply with that information if someone is interested.”