She cleared her throat. “I resented my father for what he’d done to my brothers and me. But by realizing I love you, I understand how much my father loved my mother and how much her condition worried him. He made a difficult decision, and I shouldn’t resent him for giving in to love.”
Clare blinked several times as she sighed. She looked up into Noah’s face and he could see love there. She really did love him.
Wonder struck him. “And I was wrong to allow Elizabeth’s lie to stand, and walking in here a moment ago, I asked for God’s forgiveness, but I didn’t know how to fix it. But God has a plan. With Elizabeth, Rupert, and with the second chances I’ve been given.”
She shifted closer to him, laying a hand on his chest. “Take the next step. Go back and reconcile with your father. You may not get that chance again. I didn’t.”
“Clare, listen—”
“No! I wish I could see my father one more time. He wasn’t perfect, but he cared for my mother. That was true love and I was wrong to resent him for it. He’s left me in a bind, but God is in total control. He’ll help me sort it out.”
“You’ll let me help, too, I hope.”
“Noah, I’m releasing you from that responsibility.”
He grabbed her hand and held it tight to his chest as he stared hard at her. “Loving you is hardly a responsibility.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. A frown marred her forehead. Finally, she spoke, her words soft. “You love me?”
“I do, very much so. More than anything on this earth. Clare, it was disappointing to let Turnip go, but that dream, whether or not it ever comes to fruition, will never come close to the love I feel for you and your brothers. Until this moment, I had pushed it to one side, time and again denied it, but the thought of losing you made me fully realize it.”
She laughed softly, her eyes glistening.
“Clare, just as you realized that marrying for love was important to me, I can see something that is important to you.”
“What is it?”
“Your independence. That’s why you initially turned down my proposal. So if it’s important to you, it’s important to me. I know you’ve seen many friends lose their freedom to their husbands. I will be head of our household, but God says we are to cleave together and unite.”
She giggled nervously. “It’s silly that cleave also has an opposite meaning.”
“I prefer the uniting meaning. The one mentioned in the Bible. I want to love you, protect you and give myself only unto you.”
“But you cannot marry me while your relationship with your family is so estranged. It hurts you, and you need to start a new life free from that hurt.”
He felt his own tears unexpectedly cloud his eyes, but he knew she was right.
Lord, forgive me. Help me fix this.
“I’ll do my best to mend my relationship with my father first. But that means we won’t be getting married tomorrow.”
She gripped him tightly. “We will marry, though, and hopefully with your family in attendance.”
Noah wrapped his arms around Clare and lowered his mouth to hers.
A banging on the back door jolted both of them out of the embrace. Shooting a concerned look to Clare, Noah hurried to the door and opened it.
In spilled the young errand boy from the telegraph office. “I knew I’d find you here!” He held up a narrow sheet of paper. “It’s from New York!”
Immediately, Noah felt the blood drain from his face. It wouldn’t be bad news about Rupert and Elizabeth. They would barely be in Kansas City by now. His father? He grabbed the telegram, ignoring the boy’s stumbling protest as he read.
“No, sir, Mr. Livingstone. I’ve been looking for Miss Walsh. The telegram is for her.”
But Noah had already finished scanning the scant words, and with a growing smile, he handed it to Clare. Confused, she cautiously accepted the telegram and read it.
Dearest Clare,
We are safe on Tenerife. Blown off course. Letter to follow. Mother is well. We will return soonest.
Love Father.
Noah caught Clare as she sagged with relief. She smiled up at him eyes glistening. “All the more reason to postpone our wedding, then. Don’t you agree?”
He laughed and kissed her soundly. At that moment, the sun, having dipped down to touch the mountains, broke free of a cloud and beamed through the small kitchen window.
In the warm rays, Noah lifted his head. “Let’s go get Tim and Leo. They need to be a part of this, too.”
Epilogue
The wedding was lovely, albeit several months later than planned. Mrs. Turcot had decorated the sanctuary with late roses and wildflowers. The air smelled fresh with their scents. Clare wore a beautiful white gown, borrowed from Victoria. Noah looked dashing in a fine gentleman’s suit.
Clare turned with Noah to allow Pastor Wyseman to introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone, taking the opportunity to look around Proud Bend’s small church with excitement.
Mother and Father beamed from their pew. Clare had never been more grateful to God than at that moment. He’d brought her parents back, safe and healthy. Between them sat Tim and Leo, scrubbed clean and behaving for a change. They were thrilled to get their parents back.
She’d learned all the details of her parents’ adventure, being lost at sea for weeks, engine gone, no way to check where they were, save a sexton, and even then, the days and nights were cloudy. They’d drifted on sea currents that led the ship to the Canary Islands, whose dry, hot climate proved a better Kurhaus than anything in Baden-Baden, Germany. Mother was healthy, and Father was relieved and revitalized and ready to return to work to take care of the family and the bills. They were beginning their lives again.
And in the time it took for them to return, Noah had acquired two mares from an old rancher, one ready to foal. Both were responding well to his care, and he’d already met with a businessman in town who wanted to purchase the pair once they were trained.
Across the aisle sat Noah’s parents. Noah and she had traveled to his hometown. With much prayer and the time of loneliness for both Noah and his father tempering their emotions, they’d talked and rebuilt their relationship. Clare had cried along with Noah’s mother when his father had asked for forgiveness for his arrogance. She’d cried further when Noah had done the same.
That was real courage, Clare had told Noah later that evening. She knew he had it in him.
Now, in the front pew, his mother was dabbing her eyes. His father beamed and Clare could see love in both their eyes. She felt Noah squeeze her hand and she turned to face the love of her life, tears filling her eyes. When she blinked, some slid down her cheeks.
Noah leaned close, his blue eyes glistening tenderly. “I remember when you promised me you wouldn’t cry at our wedding.”
“That was before I realized how much I love you!” She glanced once more out at the congregation. All imperfect people loved by God.
Thank You, Lord.
* * * * *
Don’t miss Barbara Phinney’s other stories
set in Proud Bend, Colorado,
THE NANNY SOLUTION
UNDERCOVER SHERIFF
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading this book. I must admit, it wasn’t easy to write. There isn’t any of the suspenseful danger that often fills my stories, but rather, I focused on emotion.
Clare resented being abandoned by her parents, and yet she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It wasn’t until she understood
love that she could forgive her parents.
Noah struggled against his father when he’d tried to bend him to his will. He also participated in a lie, but didn’t know how to fix either problem.
Asking God for forgiveness and help is the best way to start to fix any problem. But you need to trust Him. All in His perfect timing.
Love isn’t always easy, but its rewards are worth it when we set aside selfishness. Carry one another’s burdens. Love as God loves you.
Happy reading and God bless!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE OUTLAW’S SECOND CHANCE by Angie Dicken.
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The Outlaw’s Second Chance
by Angie Dicken
Chapter One
The Cherokee Strip
September 15, 1893
Aubrey Huxley rushed over when her father shoved his bony finger against the customer’s shoulder.
“You’re crossing a line there, boomer,” he threatened. Aubrey cringed as she approached the tense business negotiation. Of course, her brother was nowhere to be found. It was up to her to deal with Pa. Ed Huxley would try to sell a jar of the red Oklahoma dirt and label it “Gunpowder,” if it meant an easy profit. Just the same, the skinny horses with matted manes did nothing to live up to the sign tacked on the fence post: “Fastest in the West.” Yet he’d talked himself blue trying to convince any challenger that afternoon.
After all, it was the day before the land run. Thousands of settlers bustled around the sprawling camp, preparing for the next day’s race for free land. Each one had a flag, waiting to stake their claim at the precious markers dotted about the prairie. Leave it to her father to take advantage of the poor land-hungry boomers who’d need a horse to claim their own quarter section tomorrow.
She sucked in her dignity with a swallow of air. “Excuse me, sir.”
The disgruntled customer turned toward Aubrey, and her breath caught. Beneath his cowboy hat, green eyes squinted with cynicism—a handsome, stirring cynicism that made doubt look like a cool drink on a hot Oklahoma day. Aubrey doubted she’d change his opinion at all.
“Ma’am, this isn’t any concern of yours.” He smiled cordially then tipped his dusty hat. Her temptation to melt slid away with his smoldering look. She was not a pretty little fixture to be brushed off. This stubborn man, adorned with a shadow of stubble along his jaw and dark hair curling against a sunburned neck, had no idea he was dismissing the wrong girl.
Aubrey cleared her throat when he tried to turn his attention back to her father. “This is as much of my concern as it is my father’s.” But their reasons were as polarized as the sun to the moon. Her jaw ached from clamping her mouth shut day in and day out during this shady operation. Her mother would have never agreed to any of this. She was probably stomping around in Heaven knowing her beautiful horses had been sold to double Pa’s inventory with these pathetic creatures.
“Oh?” A grin hooked one corner of the man’s mouth. “Is it?” He leaned an elbow on the corral fence, which creaked beneath his weight.
“Yes, boomer.” She lifted her chin and ignored the flutter in her chest. Must he stare at her that way? She shoved her hand out for a shake. “I am Aubrey Huxley. If you have any questions, please direct them to me.” She spoke those last words through her teeth, trying to sift through the desperation in her voice. The last thing she wanted was to arouse Pa’s anger. Not when she was this close to completing her plan.
“Good day, Miss Huxley. I am Cort Stanton.” The cowboy’s grip was firm.
Aubrey tried to mimic his strength in her own grip instead of allowing it to distract her. Swooning at the first handsome man who crossed her path on the prairie would not add any courage to what she intended to accomplish.
“Mr. Stanton, please address your concerns with our horses—” she raised her voice over the yells of men pouring into the next-door tent set up as a temporary saloon “—to me.”
Mr. Stanton whistled a minty breath more pleasant than the mangy odor of her merchandise. “I’ve never been much of a businessman. But I know horses. And if you’d like to call that a horse...” He arched an eyebrow and wagged his head. “Then those pretty brown eyes of yours might need checking.”
Anger coursed through Aubrey’s veins, red-hot like the setting sun bleeding on the horizon beyond the myriad of tents. “I know horses just fine, thank you. You don’t know me, or the specimens we’ve sold before this.” Well, they were at least decent, anyway. Why was she fighting him? This would be her last day as an accomplice to her father’s schemes.
“Believe me, any specimen is finer than that one.” He threw another glance at the tawny mare and kicked his boot on the fence post.
Her father puffed out his chest, looking like he was ready for a duel, but then a holler from the saloon stole his attention. “Aubrey, take care of him.” He flung open the gate. “Got some business to take care of yonder.”
A heavy weight settled in her stomach as Pa abandoned their only customer in hours. He slipped into the pulsing tent. Exactly why she was leaving him. Just like Mama couldn’t trust him when she was alive, Aubrey couldn’t trust him to follow through, either. As much as she’d tried to revive her affection for the broken man, the ache of all he’d inflicted was too much to bear.
She’d had enough.
“So, Mr. Stanton, are you interested or not?” Aubrey folded her arms across her torso, the steam of the challenge changing its course with the wind of surrender. Her efforts to help Pa this one last time deflated, because he’d just walked out on her once more. Even if this cowboy, with his rich voice and gorgeous eyes, encouraged her to snap back, she just didn’t have it in her to continue this charade.
“Sorry, ma’am.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll have to look elsewhere.” His face softened with true regret as if he felt he owed her more. Her heart sped up at the small glimpse of compassion from the rugged man. It’d been a long time since someone showed concern for her feelings.
“Fine, then.” Why did his split-second glance of tenderness inflict such a fury of emotions deep within her? She brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it into her braid. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got to clean up before nightfall.” And get ready, myself.
Her nerves frenzied at the urgency of all she had to do.
First, she needed a horse. That was her only way to have a fighting chance tomorrow. The only fools who ran by foot in the last race ran the night before, even with the risk of getting shot for running early. Every time she spied the scouts guarding the line, she nearly buckled in fear.
“Are you running tomorrow?” Mr. Stanton seemed perfectly content to stay and chat awhile, even leaning up against the fence with one worn-out cowboy boot crossed over the other.
Aubrey tilted her head and studied his face for any sort of malice. While there were many good-hearted folk around, she’d met her share of scoundrels in these three long weeks. This cowboy had nothing but a kind smile.
She lifted her shoulders, arching her eyebrow.
“Just wondering.” He held his hands up like she’d threatened him. Perhaps she had. Aubrey didn’t have the restraint to control her emotions like she used to.
Mr. Stanton took out a handkerchief and wiped the back of his neck. “Just some friendly advice from one of the thousands of men running tomorrow.” He squinted into the crimson light beyond the camp then pushed away from the fence. “I think you’d do better running the race on foot.” He glanced at the horse, shook his head and then walked onto the crowded path. “Good evening, Miss Huxley.”
Aubrey rolled her eyes. Arrogant boomer.
Temptation to race the cowboy to a better horse deal pulled her toward the fence. She could cut through the tents, but she had to wait on a customer until seven. If Aubrey was any bit of her father, she’d do what was best for herself and forget the appointment. Yet she couldn’t follow Pa’s selfish way, could she?
Besides, she’d do nothing to hinder this chance to start over—to fill a dream at last, her mama’s dream. Provoking Pa to anger by shirking her duties was the last thing she wanted to do. If she did him wrong by leaving now, he’d make sure she’d pay for it. No matter how much money she’d leave behind.
Rancher to the Rescue Page 23