Tracie Peterson

Copyright

ISBN 978-1-55748-710-0

Copyright © by Tracie Peterson. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

All scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. niv®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

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Prologue

R
iotous changes, for which the young country was already famous, ushered in the turn of the century in America. As the 1900s quickly added years and headed into their teens, a fascination grew for things mechanical and complicated. America was hungry for change and innovation, and her people were only too happy to comply.

Among those changes were some that would drastically alter the course of history. Skeptical crowds viewed automobiles and airplanes, never believing the contraptions would retire the horse and buggy. Meanwhile, the warm wonder of electric lighting spread like a fire out of control and soon engulfed the young nation. New carbonated drinks, rising hemlines, and a variety of contraptions and conveniences that baffled the mind were part of the flood that swept the country into young adulthood.

The world was, of course, not without its problems. Racial hatred ran rampant, especially in larger cities in the East. Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” was stolen in August of 1911 and not recovered until two years later.
And in 1912, the nation mourned in stunned dismay the sinking of the
Titanic
.

In an almost frantic frenzy, Americans pressed forward at such an alarming rate that old-timers questioned the sanity of those younger. Where would it all lead? And how could it possibly be good?

In the unspoiled innocence of the recently admitted state of New Mexico, things were no different from the rest of the country. A hunger was growing for the wealth and wonder of all that their sister states enjoyed. Perhaps the old-timers weren’t panting for change like the younger citizens, and maybe the natives looked with contempt on the destruction that always accompanied progress. But in the growing town of Bandelero, New Mexico, the children of its founders were now coming of age, and with this came bold ideals for the years to come.

Chapter 1

D
aughtry!”

“In here, Daddy!” a young, auburn-haired woman called. She finished cleaning the hoof she held between her slender, jean-clad legs before making any move to greet her father.

Garrett Lucas bounded into the stable with a look of determined frustration on his face. Now in his mid-fifties, Garrett was still lean and muscular from his years of ranch work. His hair was a salt and pepper brown that he fondly told his children was growing whiter by the minute due to their antics.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

Daughtry patted the back of her horse Poco and moved to put away her grooming equipment. “Daddy, you know very well that I ride before breakfast every single morning. Then I come back here and see to Poco, just like you taught me.”

Relief crossed Garrett’s face before he nodded to his daughter. “I think you ought to have one of the hands ride out with you,” he advised. “Or at least you could ask one of your brothers.”

“Daddy! I’m twenty-three years old. When are you going to realize that I’m fully capable of taking care of myself?” Daughtry’s voice betrayed the frustration she felt with her father’s constant overshadowing protection.

“Just because you’re grown doesn’t mean I stop worrying about you,” Garrett offered by way of apology.

Daughtry sighed and brushed the dirt from her pants. “I know and I’m glad you love me, but I have to have some room to breathe. You have one of the largest ranches in New Mexico to run, so why not concentrate on that and let me go my own way?” Daughtry paused and looked at her father seriously. “Sometimes you and the boys are just more than I care to deal with. I don’t know how Mother stands it.”

Garrett grinned. “I keep your mother too busy to worry about it. Besides, she likes my keepin’ an eye on her.”

“Well,” Daughtry said, coming forward to place a quick kiss on her father’s cheek, “I’m not Mother.”

She walked past her father and kept moving toward the adobe-styled
ranch house. For all her life Piñon Canyon Ranch had been her home, and all her memories, both good and bad, were enclosed by its boundaries. Now, it seemed more like a prison. The world was changing out there, but here, time seemed to stand still. Her family didn’t have electricity, telephones, or automobiles, and often Daughtry had the dreadful feeling that life was passing her
by.

“I wish you wouldn’t wear your brother’s clothes,” Garrett said from behind her.

Daughtry stopped in her tracks and turned, and her father quickly covered the distance between them. She fixed an expression on her face that she hoped would prove her determination. They’d argued this before, but she was willing to argue it again.

Garrett sighed. “Okay, I give up. Wear jeans when you work around the ranch. But I better never catch you wearing them into town. They’re too revealing, and I won’t have every guy there drooling and following you around.”

Daughtry laughed. “Oh, Daddy. You are impossible. No man is ever going to drool over me, because you’re always two steps behind or in front of me. No gentleman can get close enough to ask my name, much less ogle me.”

“Good,” Garrett said, putting his arm around his daughter. “Let’s keep it that way.”

❧

Inside the ranch house, a flurry of activity was managing to create absolute chaos. This was typical of breakfast at the Lucas table, and Maggie Lucas took it all in stride. Maggie was still a fine-looking woman, with a shapely figure and dark auburn hair, and Daughtry so closely resembled her mother that people often mistook them at a quick glance.

When her husband and daughter came into the dining room, arm in arm, Maggie couldn’t help but smile. Then, just as quickly, a frown crossed her face as she caught sight of her daughter’s grim expression. Garrett was obviously making himself a pest again.

Maggie knew why, but it didn’t help matters any. Her own heartfelt grief at the loss of their daughter Julie, almost four years earlier, caused her to sympathize with her husband. When Julie had ridden out on a cold December morning, no one thought that only hours later she would lie dead at the bottom of an icy ravine. Her horse had lost its footing, and Garrett had never forgiven himself for letting Julie ride out alone. Truth be told, Garrett had never stopped blaming himself for the tragedy and had become incessantly more preoccupied with Daughtry’s safety. Indeed, his concern had rapidly approached a level of grief all its own, for he knew his inability to protect Daughtry from all of life’s many dangers. His grief and frustration threatened to drive Daughtry away from her father and their home.

Daughtry’s brothers swarmed around the room. Dolan and Don were arguing, as was typical for the seventeen-year-old twins. Joseph, sixteen, was trying to snag pieces of food off the plates as Anna Maria and Pepita hurried around the table to avoid his reach, and fifteen-year-old Jordan, Jordy to everyone except when he was in trouble, was reading as he walked. No doubt another western. Jordy loved to read them and point out the inaccuracies. There was only one author he held any esteem for and that was Zane Grey.

Finally, Gavin, the oldest of the boys at twenty-one, entered, gave his mother a peck on the cheek, whirled her in a circle, more to clear her out of his way than anything, and took his seat at the table.

“I’m starved!” Gavin fairly roared, then grinned up at his mother who was shaking her head at him.

“Well, if we can get everyone to take a seat,” Maggie said, “we’ll have breakfast.” Nearly in unison, four boys took their seat, leaving Garrett and Daughtry standing.

“Well, come on Sis, Dad,” Gavin said, reaching out to take hold of his mother’s hand. “Let’s pray and eat.”

Garrett took his place at the head of the table, while Daughtry went to sit across from her mother. Everyone joined hands, while Garrett blessed the food. When his brief prayer ended, the chaos which had existed earlier died away to civility and calm. Maggie Lucas would tolerate no rowdiness at her table.

Daughtry picked at her food, while all around her, her brothers ate as though they were starving. She was hungry, or at least had been until that morning’s episode with her father. How could she ever get him to stop worrying that she was going to die tragically like her sister?

“Aren’t you hungry?” Maggie asked her softly.

Six pairs of eyes followed their mother’s gaze to see what Daughtry’s response would be. Sometimes, she felt as though she held the entire ranch hostage, awaiting her answers. But most of the time, Daughtry felt like she was the hostage.

“I’m fine,” she muttered under her breath and continued to pick at the biscuits and gravy on her plate.

“We’ve got a heap of work cut out for us today,” Garrett was telling his sons, and Daughtry let her mind wander, knowing that this would keep everyone occupied for a spell.

Why can’t I just get away from here?
Her mind reeled at the unspoken question. What she wouldn’t give to leave Piñon Canyon. At least for a little while.
I’ve never even been out of New Mexico,
she thought.
There’s a whole world out there that I only know from magazines and books. Will I ever see it? Will I ever be able to enjoy the things other people do?
She was twenty-three years old. An old maid by some standards, not that her father cared. If he had his way about it, she’d stay unmarried and lonely until her dying day.

The boys all seemed to be talking at once, and Daughtry nearly laughed out loud at the thought of being lonely.
How could anyone claim such a feat in this house?
she wondered. But she was. She was lonely and bored and unhappy with her life. She prayed about it often. She read her Bible. She even sought the advice of their longtime family friend, Pastor David Monroe, but nothing seemed to help.

David had suggested she mingle more with people her own age, but every time she tried to do just that, her father would come looking for her. She’d hoped that after a little time had passed and the pain of Julie’s death had dimmed, her father and brothers wouldn’t be quite so possessive of her. But, if anything, it was more of a problem than ever.

What made matters even worse was that Daughtry and Julie had never been that close—and now Daughtry felt as though her sister was to blame for all her misery. That only managed to add guilt to the loneliness and frustration that already smothered Daughtry.

I miss her too,
Daughtry thought.
Even if we didn’t see things eye to eye, she was my sister, and I loved her.
Daughtry looked around her at the family she cared for more than anything or anyone.
I love them all,
she argued with her heart.
But they’re killing me!

“What are you going to do today, Daughtry?”

“Huh?” Daughtry’s mind fumbled to recall the question.

Garrett seemed undaunted. “I was just asking what you had planned to do today?”

“Oh,” Daughtry said and glanced at Maggie. “I guess Mother and I are going to finish sewing our dresses for the fair.”

Garrett nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. The fair’s in two days and I wouldn’t want my favorite ladies to show up looking shoddy.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t care if we wore potato sacks, as long as you had one of us on either side of you.”

The boys snickered, but Daughtry didn’t. Her mother spoke the truth. Except maybe dressing in potato sacks was pushing the boundaries a bit.

“I guess you’re right,” Garrett said with a smile and leaned over to place a kiss on his wife’s temple. “I’d go anywhere with you, Mrs. Lucas, and you could indeed be wearing potato sacks and still outshine everybody else.” His gaze betrayed his pride and passion for the woman at his side.

“Well, I for one will not be wearing potato sacks,” Maggie replied. “Nor will Daughtry. We have some very special dresses planned. You just wait. There won’t be an eligible bachelor in town who won’t sit up and take notice of our daughter.”

“Not that it would do any good,” Daughtry said before she could check the thought.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Garrett questioned. All eyes turned once more to her for an answer.

Daughtry pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “It means just what you think it means. No one is going to look at me twice because my daddy might take offense at their forwardness and put them in their place. And if not him, then one of the mighty Lucas brothers. I’m so tired of being treated like I’m five years old. Did it ever once dawn on any of you that I’d like to meet a nice young man, fall in love, and move away from here?”

Everyone stared at Daughtry in surprise. She had never before given
such an outburst of criticism for what they perceived as their dutiful love for
her.

“Daughtry!” her mother gasped. “You apologize to your father and brothers, this minute.”

Daughtry leaned against her chair and considered the situation for a moment.

“Sorry,” she muttered and turned to leave. Stalking down the hall, she added in a whisper for her ears alone, “Sorry that I live in this house and will probably die in this house too!”

❧

When the boys had finished with breakfast, leaving their parents alone, Maggie couldn’t help but try to ease the tension between her husband and daughter.

“Daughtry does have a small point,” Maggie began. She tenderly ran her fingers across the back of Garrett’s hand. “She is grown up and does deserve to settle down with her own husband and family.”

Garrett’s eyes flashed anger, as though Maggie’s declaration was one of betrayal. “I just want to see her with the kind of man who’s going to respect her and love her. He needs to know what’s going on with this world and how to make a living that will support her. You’ve never taken her side over mine before. Why now?”

Maggie sighed. “I’m not taking sides, Garrett. It’s just that I see something in Daughtry these last few months that worries me. I’m afraid if you don’t find a way to work it out, Daughtry will put a permanent wall between the two of you. You don’t want that, Garrett. You’ve already lost one daughter.”

Garrett stormed from the table without another word. Maggie stared after him for a moment, tears brimming in her eyes. “Help him, Father,” she prayed. “Help Garrett to heal before it’s too late.”