Authors: Patricia Pacjac Carroll
Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Westerns, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Religion & Spirituality, #Christian Fiction
Liberty Belle (42 page)
“The outlaws came and Andrew told how he killed Rowen. The same gang that robbed my stage.”
The sheriff rode up to them. “He said you might need a doctor.”
His arm around her, Wade frowned. “Harley, he’s shot in the shoulder. I left him up the trail. Maybe, three miles from here.” He should go, help them find the gambler, but he couldn’t leave her. Not now. Not ever.
###
The following days kept them in a whirl. With Flora promising to take care of him, Harley would recover. Libby’s parents welcomed Wade into their family. Even her mother seemed genuinely happy to call him son.
Wade watched the women of the town busily decorate the sheriff’s cabin for them while the men built an extra room for Mark. The citizens of Denver went all out to tell Libby how sorry they were, and she’d forgiven them.
And that was the biggest change Wade noticed in him and his wife. He could see that sweet spirit in Libby and feel it in himself. The same faith that had Mark praying all along on their journey, he now understood.
Libby walked up to him, love lighting her face.
Wade gazed into his bride’s eyes. “Our home is almost ready. But there is one more person we need to talk to.”
She smiled. “Mark. But first I have something to give you. I’ve carried it since the first day we met.”
Puzzled, he stared at her.
She pulled his old star from her pocket and pinned it on his shirt. “There. Just as it should be.”
Wade kissed her. He just couldn’t seem to do that enough the last couple of days. But she was right. The Lord had restored everything. His honor. The badge. His dreams. And given him a family. Wade pulled her into his arms. “I am never going to let you go.”
A sweet giggle reminded him of unfinished business.
Mark
. “I sent Cody to get the boy.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“Mr. Wade!” The boy ran toward them.
Wade stared at Mark and wondered if maybe the limp wasn’t quite as bad as he remembered. He smiled. If God could deliver Libby, healing a small boy didn’t seem so hard. He held an arm out and hugged Mark to him. “There’ll be three of us now.”
“Three partners.” Mark grinned and dug into his pocket. “I got a wedding present for you.”
“That’s nice of you, Mark.” Libby planted a kiss on the boy’s cheek.
He blushed and held up a leather pouch. “I found gold on our claim. Beaver Dan said it won’t be much but enough to start the horse ranch and build us a cabin on our land.”
Wade hugged his family and gazed into the heavens. He’d already struck gold.
THE END
For Libby, Wade, and Mark – just the beginning.
Dear Reader,
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Golden Dreams
He's going east
She's getting nowhere
Until their dreams collide
Union soldiers kill her father, burn her home, and steal her virtue, leaving
Katy Gilbreth
with a wounded spirit and scarred face. Vowing not to give up, she sets her sights on California, a land where she can get away from the hauntings of the past and start over in a land full of
Golden Dreams.
With her faith shattered and her hopes fading, Katy trusts no man, yet needs one to take her west.
Revelation Tarver
is traveling east to reconcile with his father and God. Along the way, he has visions of a golden-haired woman with a scar on her cheek, but he has no intention to ever falling in love again. Until he stops for supplies in a nowhere town and sees Katy.
Because of her past, Rev shuts his heart to Katy. After all, he is headed east. Until a killer, land grant, and a tornado throw them together on the California trail.
Katy and Rev embark on a journey where their dreams collide as they face the wild land, a wicked outlaw, and their own fears. Will Katy and Rev allow God to heal them from the wounds of the past and lead them to the land of
Golden Dreams
?
Sometimes you have to go through your past to reach your dreams.
Golden Dreams
Independence, Missouri
December, 1866
Shod hooves clattered on the boardwalk behind Katy Gilbreth. She whipped a hurried glance over her shoulder and scrambled to the wall of the general store. Glaring at the drunken cowboy, she pressed hard against the rough wood as he spurred his panicked horse down the narrow walkway.
She gulped in a breath as the animal passed by so close she feared for her toes. Feet intact, she shook her fist at the rowdy.
Scoundrel.
In answer to her thoughts, gunshots rang out and more riders galloped through the rain-soaked road.
Katy rubbed her arms to ward off the chill of the night breeze and scowled. Too bad there was no way to warm her heart, but Independence, Missouri, was a city cold in more ways than the weather.
A man on a spotted horse slid to a stop in front of her and waved his hat. “Hey, Goldie, I’ll be waiting at The Midnight. We’ll celebrate the New Year together.” He laughed mockingly and raced his prancing mount after his friends.
That Farley
.
She stared after him, turned, and nearly ran into Mrs. Winthrop. The town’s queen of gossip sneered and backed away as if she feared being soiled. After an exaggerated harrumph, the woman trundled her huge bulk past without a kind look or word.
Instinctively, Katy put a hand to her face to hide the scar.
A bothersome niggle in the back of Katy’s mind set her to wondering how many times she had walked past the people society deemed invisible in Atlanta?
She tugged her wrap tight about her.
Can’t do anything about that now.
She rubbed her finger over the raised skin on her right cheek. A cruel reminder of what the deserters had stolen from her. Had it only been a little over a year? She’d gone from a woman of comfortable means to one wearing discarded clothes she found in the trash.
Katy straightened and set her gaze west. When she got to California, things would be different. Had to be better than
Mi-ser-y.
A fit of coughing doubled her over. Exhausted and sick, she leaned against Mac’s General Store.
She’d tried to find honest work, but no one had given her a chance. They’d taken one look at her ragged clothes, the pink wound, and then slammed the door.
Katy shuddered. She’d sunk to the lowest level a woman could go. But she was still alive.
An icy wind whipped the hole-infested wrap she held around her, reminding her that winter held her in its grip and the wagon trains wouldn’t leave until spring. Worse, she’d been told in no nice way that single women
like her
weren’t allowed. She needed a husband, as if she could find a decent man to marry her.
Katy scoffed. She had plenty of men. The Midnight Saloon saw to that. She tightened the old cloak around her grimacing as the rough wool scratched her chin. She tried to divert her thoughts, but they were already going down the path of regret reminding her of the fine clothes she’d owned in the past.
Church bells rang, calling the faithful to the New Years’ service. Anger piled more stones around her already hardened heart. Katy turned her back on the call and strode to the edgier side of town. The part without God.
She trudged up one street and turned. Dread and shame washed over her as she stepped over a drunken form passed out in the road. Two streets over the ring of saintly chimes gave way to riotous laughter, shouts, and gunshots. Darkness swallowed the road yielding only begrudgingly to the weak, yellow flames of the sparsely scattered streetlamps. Eerie shadows danced like skeletal hands beckoning her to the land of the living dead.
She dodged a saloon girl and wild cowboy embracing on the boardwalk only to run into an old whiskered man who grabbed her shoulder with dirty bony fingers. Katy twisted from his grasp. The coarse noise and stench of filth sent her world spinning. She grabbed the nearest post and hung on, shivering.
Her fever had returned. No doubt the result of being scantily clothed, scarcely fed, and with little rest. Her balance recovered, Katy trudged to the last saloon on the block, the two-story building where she worked.
The two windows on the upper floor leered at her as if they were judging eyes. The tinny piano screeched out a gaudy tune while the putrid smell of whiskey, smoke, and unclean men drenched her in the stench of sin.
She stood outside the door wishing she had somewhere else to go. Chills shook her. Did she even want to go on? Could she?
Watching at the door, the saloon owner, Smiley, sent her a steely glare of disapproval. How he got his name was a mystery. She’d been here for a month and had yet to see the man’s lips turn upward. Then again, maybe his heavy dark mustache weighted them down.
“You’re late. Customers’ve been waitin’.”
His harsh words snapped her thoughts of surrender. She’d not give up. Not today. Not in the presence of such a man.
Katy matched his scowl. “Happy New Year.”
He shoved her into Farley’s calloused hands.
The cowboy grasped her arm with an iron grip and dragged her toward the stairs. “Come on Goldie, I’m in a hurry to celebrate.”
Katy tugged and pulled him to a stop. “Give me a minute.”
Reeking of liquor, Farley yanked her to him, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her roughly.
A wave of nausea weakened her knees.
He leaned on her and spoke foul things into her ear.
Blindly, she kicked out.
His hands fell away. Groaning, he dropped to the floor.
She wanted to laugh. Instead, she staggered and brushed against a muscled frame. Strong fingers jerked her neck.
“You go up and make him happy or get out. You’re nothin’ but trouble.” Smiley’s gruff voice split through the pain in her head.
Katy held her stomach. Fear gave way to anger as she tore loose from his grasp. She faced him and squared her shoulders. “Better to starve than be treated like a dog.”
His lips curled into a snarl. “That’s all you are and don’t forget it. Who wants a scar-faced whore anyway?”
With a quick move, Smiley bent her arm behind her back and shoved her out the door and off the boardwalk.
Katy sprawled headlong into the street. She pushed up, spitting mud and worse out of her mouth. Dazed, she turned at the sound of driving hooves. She wanted to scream, to run, but couldn’t move.
Hands grasped her out of the path of the charging animal.
Katy turned, shivered, and her world went black.
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