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The Rancher’s Devout Bride
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THE RANCHER'S DEVOUT BRIDE
Bride of Inspiration
Book 6
By
MAYA STIRLING
DESCRIPTION
1879
Devotion to God, Family and Children
Accompanying two sweet, young orphan girls to their new foster home in frontier Montana is supposed to be simple for Emma Dunbar. But, trouble strikes and Emma is forced to take an action which promises to change her life, and that of the children now in her temporary care, forever.
Returning to Inspiration, rancher Jake Buchanan rescues the beautiful stranger and the children. Now, the only place that is safe for them is the Buchanan ranch. That means Jake will have to face up to having his own surprise family living under his roof.
However, it soon becomes clear that the feisty easterner has secrets of her own. When danger promises to end their new-found happiness, Jake and Emma will have to face up to an uncertain future with faith and devotion.
The Rancher's Devout Bride is a standalone FULL LENGTH NOVEL in the Brides of Inspiration series. It can be read on its own and as part of the series. It is a clean and wholesome historical Christian romance with inspirational themes of faith, family and love. And it has a guaranteed happy ending.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
© 2018 Maya Stirling
Psalm 25:4-6
Shew me thy ways, O Lord; teach me thy paths.
Lead me in thy truth, and teach me: for thou art the God of my salvation; on thee do I wait all the day.
Remember, O Lord, thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses; for they have been ever of old.
Dear Reader
This is the second story about the cousins to the original Buchanan family from the earlier books in the series. In this story Jake Buchanan meets, and rescues, Emma Dunbar, a beautiful young woman with a secret. She also has two little girls in her charge.
I wanted to write a story which shows the power of true devotion to God and family.
The novel takes place a year after the events of Abigail and Noah's story. I hope you enjoy this novel. Grace's story will be told in the next novel which will be available very soon.
Love
Maya
CHAPTER ONE
Montana
August, 1879
With a roar of wheels and defiant shriek of the four horses pulling the carriage, the Concord stagecoach drew to a shuddering halt sending up plumes of dust into the cool, early morning air. The plump, elderly driver roared from his position perched on the high seat, announcing the arrival to his passengers.
Standing on the staging station porch, Jake Buchanan leaned against the wooden supporting pillar and peered at the stagecoach. He saw movement in the dark interior. A brief glimpse of features. Then, a face appeared at the carriage's open window. Jake felt his breath catch. Determined not to betray his reaction, Jake schooled his expression. But, no matter what he did, he couldn't take his eyes off the woman.
Almond-shaped eyes; green eyes alive with curiosity; high cheekbones; even features; pretty, bow-shaped lips. Once again, Jake's breath hitched in his chest. Beautiful, was the word which came instantly to mind.
The young woman leaned her head out of the stagecoach window, craned her neck, and looked warily at the large, rough wooden cabin that comprised the staging station. Her gaze flickered hesitantly up at the clouded sky. Her dark brows furrowed, as if disappointment had seized her.
From what he could see, she looked elegantly dressed. Jake tried not to look too interested in the tidily-attired brunette. But, for some reason, dragging his eyes away from her was proving impossible. He guessed she was in her early twenties. She wore a neat, pale blue bonnet which matched what he could see of her smartly-tailored gown. White-gloved hands clutched the edge of the open window.
Jake felt interest flare into life. Curiosity, even. The woman didn't look at Jake. Maybe she figured he was just another wayfarer, passing through on the way to somewhere else. Like herself.
Well he was, and there was no rush to get back to Inspiration, he told himself. He'd been away for a week, and the way he was feeling, he told himself he'd appreciate another seven days away from the town. Images of what awaited him back home floated into his mind. He pushed them firmly away. There would be plenty of time to deal with those issues when he got back.
Excited, high-pitched voices sounded from behind the woman. Young voices. Head turned in response, she leaned back inside, and was lost to view.
The stagecoach door was flung sharply open. A heavy-set man of middle years, dressed in a charcoal gray suit planted a booted foot on the small step. The stagecoach creaked as his lumbering bulk eased through the door. Like his female companion, his expression was one of wary uncertainty as he gazed at the building. He didn't look at all pleased. Heaving his considerable figure through the opening, his feet pounded resoundingly onto the dusty yard.
The man peered evenly at Jake. For a moment, inexplicably as far as Jake was concerned, instant animosity settled on the man's features. Jake wondered why the man had looked at him like that.
Behind Jake, the door to the staging station opened, and Grace emerged. Jake's youngest sister, dressed in boots, gray riding skirt and pale green blouse, came to Jake's side. "New arrivals," she observed.
Jake nodded. "Just in from Billings. Guess they must be on their way to Helena."
The heavy-set traveler's eyes widened when he saw Grace standing next to Jake. Instantly, a familiar protective instinct kicked in. Jake drew in a sharp breath and leaned closer to Grace. He narrowed his brows, peering disapprovingly at the older man. Jake didn't like any man looking at his sister. Let alone someone who was almost of an age to be her father.
The man's gaze met Jake's and then dropped as he tugged out a watch from a waistcoat pocket. The driver threw down a bag onto the yard. It landed perilously close to the man's feet, causing him to leap to one side.
"Sorry Mister," the driver declared with a weary shrug.
The man drew himself up and glared at the driver. "That's Mr Lucius Vance to you, sir" he stated loudly. "Or have you already forgotten the names of your passengers?"
Seemingly unmoved, the driver rolled his eyes as if this wasn't the first time he'd been told off by his passenger. The driver loosened a strap and lifted a larger bag. He jumped off the stagecoach and dumped the bag on the ground. Thrusting his hands against his hips, the driver prepared to say something, probably rude, Jake guessed, but was cut off by the sound of a female voice.
Jake watched as the woman stepped out of the carriage and paused, straightening her gown with abrupt, gentle tugs. "I would like my bag, please," she instructed the driver as she pointed to the bag on the ground at the man's feet.
The driver lifted the red carpetbag and handed it to the woman. "There you go, Miss Dunbar," the driver said. She took the bag and held it close to her. It slipped in her hand and landed heavily at her booted feet. Ignoring the way the bag had escaped her grasp, she peered at the driver. "And I need the bag belonging to the children," she added abruptly.
Jake frowned. Children? He glanced at Grace and saw his sister's brows shoot up in a line. It seemed he wasn't the only one whose curiosity had been aroused.
As the driver battled to bring the oth
er bag down from the roof of the stagecoach, two small individuals emerged through the open door. Two girls. They were each wearing gingham dresses, one grey, the other light green. Over the dresses each of the girls wore a dark gray coat. Taking their place next to the woman, they both glanced nervously up at Miss Dunbar. Jake guessed the girls were both around six or seven years old. He noticed they both stood obediently and stiffly, holding their hands clasped at their middle, shoe-clad feet pressed primly together. It was almost as if they were following prior instruction. Both girls looked tired from their long journey. They must have traveled overnight from Billings, Jake speculated.
"How long are we going to be here?" Miss Dunbar asked the driver.
The man ran his hand through his lank hair. "A few hours," he croaked. "We need a change of horses." He peered at the stable which adjoined the staging station. "Although that depends on what they've got here."
That answer did not seem to please the woman. Not one bit. Her full, red lips pursed and her brows furrowed. As far as Jake was concerned, seeing the newcomer's annoyance wasn't entirely displeasing.
"See you make it quick, Mr Brogan," Vance exclaimed. "I have important business in Helena. And I can't afford to be delayed." He shook his round head and sighed as he regarded the slightly dilapidated wooden building which was no bigger than a homesteader's cabin. Jake knew the owner had tried to make the place a comfortable stopping place for travelers. But, it looked like Lucius Vance, used to grander establishments, wasn't impressed.
The driver, Brogan, waved a dismissive hand at Vance and trudged to the porch. Giving a cursory nod to Jake and Grace, Brogan disappeared inside the staging station building, slamming the door noisily behind him as he went.
Miss Dunbar lifted her bag, and the one belonging to the children. She grunted audibly. It was clear to Jake that the weight of the bags was causing her difficulty. He stepped off the porch, ignoring the startled look on Grace's face.
Striding across the yard, he advanced toward Miss Dunbar. "May I be of assistance, ma'am?" Jake asked, trying to sound as friendly as he could.
Miss Dunbar's eyes widened at Jake. Her mouth opened, forming a pleasing O shape. Her gaze lingered on him a few moments longer than he'd anticipated, given that he was a complete stranger. Then, drawing herself to her full height, which was a head shorter than Jake's, she shook her head. "Thank you, but, no," she stated firmly.
Jake planted himself in front of her. Up close, the woman was even more pretty, he couldn't help telling himself. But there was a weary expression in her eyes that was undeniable. Almost as if she was bearing a burden even heavier than the two carpetbags which were currently straining her arms.
Jake stretched out his arms toward the bags. "Ma'am. I can see those bags are nearly ripping your arms out of their sockets. Can't stand by and let such a thing happen. Especially since you and those two lovely girls of yours have had such a long journey."
He tried to speak with as much good-humor as he could muster. He gave her a smile, hoping to ease the obvious tension and make her less hesitant to accept his help.
From behind him, Jake heard Grace advancing closer. "You have to forgive my brother," she said, halting by his side. "He's a rancher." She glanced brightly up at Jake. Was there a hint of annoyance in her eyes? That he'd taken the initiative and offered the woman help? "And he just can't help trying to be gentleman," Grace added.
"A rancher?" Miss Dunbar said, a brow curving abruptly upwards. For a moment, Jake was sure he saw her gaze flicker from his head to his toes and back up again to his eyes. "That's interesting," she said and glanced down at the two girls. "You haven't met a rancher before, have you girls?"
Both girls' eyes widened and they shook their heads in perfect unison. The way they were looking at him, Jake figured he might be just about the strangest thing they'd ever laid eyes on.
Feeling his face flush with heat, Jake shrugged. "It's nothing special," he said casually.
"What's a rancher doing at a staging station?" Lucius Vance demanded. Jake immediately bristled at the man's rude tone of voice.
Jake turned and faced Vance. Once again, their eyes met in unspoken, inexplicable enmity. Jake was used to facing down men who didn't take an immediate liking to him. It happened all the time with the ranching life. Even though he knew he didn't owe the man an answer to that question, Jake was determined not to allow himself to be treated like that. "Me and my sister are on our way home after taking some cattle to sell at Billings."
Jake glanced at Miss Dunbar. He couldn't help noticing the way she had looked at Grace. Had the announcement that she was Jake's sister taken her by surprise? Grace had insisted on accompanying Jake and the other ranch hands on the cattle drive to the station north of Billings where they'd sold a couple of hundred head of cattle the day before to one of the local buyers. Now they were heading back to the Buchanan ranch outside Inspiration. Their home town. This stop at the staging station was the only one they'd make before the final day-long trek across the Montana landscape.
The bags slipped from Miss Dunbar's grasp. Jake stepped forward. "Please, ma'am. I insist," he said reaching out.
From his side, Jake heard Vance's raised voice. "Didn't you hear what the lady said?" he barked. "She doesn't want your help."
Jake froze and then turned his head slowly, fixing Vance with a stern look. "Are you the lady's protector?" Jake snapped. He could feel the sudden tension in the air. Vance didn't seem the kind of man who could hold his own in a fight. And that was an understatement, Jake told himself as he ran a dismissive look up and down the length of the man's portly figure.
Vance took one step toward Jake, but then halted when he saw the steadiness in Jake's gaze. There was a long moment when it seemed that the men would come to blows. Jake wasn't a man of violence. His faith prevented him from taking that attitude to the hardships of life. But, Vance was surely testing Jake's patience.
Miss Dunbar took a step toward Jake. When she spoke, her voice was bright and friendly. "I'd be happy for you to take the bags," she announced. Jake glanced at her and saw her gaze shift nervously for a second in the direction of Vance. That had that been fear he'd seen in her eyes, Jake told himself.
Miss Dunbar held out both bags. Jake took them, their weight an easy load for his powerfully muscled arms. She smiled at him. "Thank you, Mr...?"
"Jake Buchanan, ma'am," he informed her. "And this here is my sister, Grace," he added.
Miss Dunbar smiled at Grace. "My name is Emma Dunbar," she said. Then, laying a hand on the top of the head of each girl, she said: "This is Bethany," indicating the girl on her left. Turning to her right she said: "And this is Clara." Emma hesitated for a moment and then added: "They're sisters." Jake thought it was odd that Emma sensed a need to add that last part. If they were her daughters, then it went without saying, didn't it? But then there was no sign of Mr Dunbar, Jake told himself. Clearly this fellow, Vance wasn't related. But that was none of his business. Sometimes it was best not to pry.
Abruptly, Clara lifted her head. "I'm the oldest," she declared with absolute conviction. On Emma's other side, Bethany frowned. "But, I'm slightly taller than my sister," she countered. Jake guessed the sisters played this game every time they met someone new. There was an unmistakably awkward silence
Jake touched the front brim of his hat at both girls and smiled. "Pleased to meet you." Both girls exchanged excited smiles, apparently delighted by Jake's courteous manners.
He turned and faced the staging station. "It isn't much of a place," he explained. "But they've got food and places to bunk down. If that's necessary."
"I certainly hope not," Vance muttered.
Jake smiled at Emma and the two girls. "I figure you folks will be on your way pretty soon." Jake started toward the building, carrying the bags with an effortful stride. Grace walked alongside him and the others followed behind him. His sister's eyes narrowed at him, an unspoken inquiry in them. It was a look Jake knew all too well. She knew how
much he liked to impress people with his charming demeanor. Jake always assumed the best in the folks he met. Even those of Vance's kind. But there was something about the newcomers which didn't feel right. And Grace had already sensed it.