Measure of a Lady , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Deeanne Gist

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165 pages

English

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Rachel van Buren arrives in Gold Rush San Francisco with two wishes: to protect her younger siblings and to return east as soon as possible. Both goals prove more difficult than she could imagine as her brother and sister are lured by the city's dangerous freedom and a missionary-turned-gambler stakes a claim on her heart. Rachel won't give up without a fight though, and soon all will learn an eloquent but humorous lesson about what truly makes a lady.Speak Politely. Even when you're the only respectable woman around, protesting the decadence of a city lost to gold fever.Dress Modestly. Wear your sunbonnet at all times. Ensure nobody sees your work boots muddied by the San Francisco streets.Remain Devoted to Family. Protect your siblings from the lures of the city, even against their wishes.Stand Above Reproach. Most difficult when a wonderful man turns out to be a saloon owner.Rise Above Temptation. No, not even just a little kiss....When these rules become increasingly difficult to uphold, can Rachel Van Buren remain a beacon of virtue in a city of vice?

Sujets

Historical fiction

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 juin 2006
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781585580729
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0259€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The
MEASURE
of a LADY
Books by Deeanne Gist
A Bride Most Begrudging
The Measure of a Lady
Courting Trouble
Deep in the Heart of Trouble
The
MEASURE
of a LADY
A Novel
DEEANNE
GIST
The Measure of a Lady Copyright 2006 Deeanne Gist
Cover design by Brand Navigation-Bill Chiaravalle Cover photograph by Steve Gardner, PixelWorks Studios, Inc. Interior design by Eric Walljasper
Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the New King James Version of the Bible. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 978-0-7642-0073-1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gist, Deeanne. The measure of a lady / Deeanne Gist. p. cm. ISBN 0-7642-0285-5 (alk. paper) - ISBN 0-7642-0073-9 (pbk.) 1. Brothers and sisters-Fiction. 2. San Francisco (Calif.)-History-19th century-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3607.I55M43 2006 813 .6-dc22 2006007823
To my parents, Harold and Veranne Graham, who have given tirelessly of their time, their wisdom, and their love. Thank you so very, very much. I love you. Dee
DEEANNE GIST has a background in education and journalism. Her credits include People, Parents, Parenting, Family Fun, and the Houston Chronicle . She has a line of parenting products called I Did It! Productions and a degree from Texas A M. She lives with her husband, four teenagers, and two dogs in Houston, Texas, and loves to hear from her readers at her website.
Contents
acknowledgments
Sanfrancisco April 1849
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
chapter 15
chapter 16
chapter 17
chapter 18
chapter 19
chapter 20
chapter 21
chapter 22
chapter 23
chapter 24
chapter 25
ONE YEAR LATER
epilogue
author s note
acknowledgments
I cannot seem to complete a manuscript without first visiting the actual locale in which the story takes place. Many thanks to Richard and Linda Alvarez for opening their home to me, for taxiing me around San Francisco and the surrounding area, for giving me the skinny that only the locals are privy to, and for enriching not just this novel but also my life. May God bless you tenfold to how you have blessed me.
My first novel, A Bride Most Begrudging, took me three years to write. Once I sold it to Bethany House, I was given one year to finish writing The Measure of a Lady . Nothing like a little pressure to send one into a complete panic. My saving grace throughout this project was my critique partner, Meg Moseley, whose input was invaluable. She encouraged me, prompted me, taught me, and prayed for me. I do not know what I would have done without her. Thank you, Meg. I am looking forward to many more years as professional colleagues and dearest friends.
I could not possibly close without thanking my team at Bethany House. What an incredibly talented group of folks they are, not to mention a good deal of fun. Special thanks to David Long for going above and beyond, and to Paul Higdon and his creative team. As far as cover art for books goes, the buck stops with Paul. And you must agree that the cover of Lady is one of the most incredible covers of all time. Thank you. I am truly blessed.
Love, Dee
S ANFRANCISCO April1849
chapter 1
T his Street Is Impassable, Not Even Jackassable . Rachel Van Buren reread the sloppily painted, dripping red letters splattered across the rickety sign. Even as she watched, its supporting post tilted forward, better exposing an endless blanket of mud stretching up behind it and beyond.
Where are the trees, Lord? Why, it s nothing but mud and scrub brush .
With the Pacific at her back and a sea of mud before her, she hadn t even a dry spot to drop the valises she held in each hand.
What are we going to do? her sister asked, swiping a strand of golden hair from her face.
I m not sure, Lissa.
Her fifteen-year-old sister, fourteen-year-old brother and she were all exhausted from their two-month voyage. And all newly orphaned by the unexpected passing of their father, Jacob Van Buren.
The promise of easy gold in the California territory had seemed like an answer to her father s woes. So, he had scrounged up what little capital they had and bought the family tickets on the Oregon with high hopes. Hopes lost in grief and stranding the three of them in a foreign territory with no guardian, no money to speak of, and no means of support.
We can t go back to the ship, Michael said. The crew has abandoned us.
Not only the crew, Rachel thought, but their fellow passengers as well. She d never seen that many men move so fast. Glancing at the now-empty rowboat secured to the rustic wharf, Rachel decided they had no choice but to leave behind their traveling trunks which sat forlornly on the pier like little caskets destined for the graveyard.
Fog whipped in from the waterfront, swirling onward to the slopes of San Francisco peppered with rambling tents and shacks. Twilight had begun its final curtain call, ushering in the deeper shadows of nightfall. One-by-one, lanterns inside the distant canvas dwellings came to light, transforming the hills into fiery nuggets.
Rachel tightened her grip on the leather valises. I ll tell you what we are going to do, Lissa. She took a deep, fortifying breath. We re going to get muddy. We re going to get quite muddy.
But look how steep it is, Lissa said.
Rachel eyed the extreme incline they must traverse to get to what she assumed was the town square. Even if the road were packed hard, it would be a strenuous hike. But soggy mud? Near impossible.
Michael yowled with delight and raced right into the thick of it, slipping, sliding, and coating the bags he carried with the clinging goop. His feet way too big for his scrawny fourteen-year-old body, he landed on his backside before he was even a third of the way up. Ho, it s slippery, girls. And deep.
He twisted around, flashing them a full-sized grin barely discernible in the fading light. If you ll wait for me, I ll come back and give you piggybacks.
What do you think, Lissa? Rachel asked, quirking a brow.
Lissa worried her bottom lip. I will if you will.
Rachel hesitated, then shook her head. No, I think I ll try it on my own.
Her shoulders drooped at this introduction to San Francisco. She had donned her best dress for this momentous occasion, its skirt peeking out from beneath her three-quarter-length coat. She stepped into the murky ankle-deep mess, caking herself with wet, malodorous mud, and trudged up the incline.
Panting from exertion and shivering from the biting wind, she crested the hill and stood with her siblings in mute fascination. But fascination didn t cover the half of it. More like consternation. Disbelief. Shock.
Light poured from the open doors of the huge tents that lined San Francisco s plaza, crisscrossing the square like a swath of gingham. Signs tacked to the canvas shacks greeted them with that now familiar red paint, but with unfamiliar words in a variety of languages.
The muddy streets teemed with people. No, not people. Men . Oriental men with long braided pigtails. Dark-skinned men with colorful sombreros. Men with so much facial hair one couldn t even begin to guess from whence they came.
And with them a swelling of voices. Yelling. Laughing. Cursing. In more languages then she could count and set to a lively musical score made up of banjos, bugles, fiddles, and jig-time ballads.
This was San Francisco? The Golden Gate? The Mother Lode? Oh, Papa. You were thinking to strike gold in this mess?
She placed one foot in front of the other, crossing the plaza, until she stood in front of a wooden building sporting a large projecting verandah and a sign that read City Hotel.
A huge man weaved into the doorway, blocking the path of light from within, then stumbled into the street. Face first.
Oh my, Lissa breathed.
The man lay still and unmoving.
What if he drowns in this muck before he can get up? Michael whispered.
Handing her valises to him, Rachel moved forward. Sir? Are you all right?
No response. She slanted the others a glance. Maybe we better help him. But before they could, the man rose onto all fours with a roar.
She squeaked and jumped back. The man pushed himself to his feet and stumbled past, never even acknowledging them.
Oh my, Lissa breathed again.
Rachel smoothed down the front of her coat with her hands. Stay here. At least until I can be assured that this is a, um, proper hotel.
Michael frowned. Maybe I better go instead.
She shook her head. No. I ll go. Besides, I need you to wait here with Lissa.
Mud oozed beneath her skirt, her pantalets, clear up to her shins as she hoisted herself onto the large verandah. The interior could not be determined from the murky view beyond the open doorway. Straightening her coat sleeves, she stomped her feet in an effort to dislodge the clinging mess and proceeded into the City Hotel.
Nothing could have prepared her. Smoke stung her eyes, curses seared her ears, and rancid smells assaulted her nose. She hesitated, trying to adjust, and scanned the room-squinting to see through a haze almost as thick as the mist outside.
The interior was one huge area that functioned as bar, gambling house, and sleeping quarters. With a border of four-tiered bunks running along three of the walls, men alternately read b