Sisters of Mercy Flats , livre ebook

Harvest House Publishers - Lori Copeland

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

128 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

From noted author Lori Copeland (more than 3 million books in print) comes a romantic new story of God's faithfulness when hope seems lost.The three wily and beautiful McDougal sisters can swindle a man faster than it takes to lasso a calf. But their luck is running out, and they're about to be hauled off to jail. When the wagon carrying them falls under attack, each sister is picked up by a different man. Unfortunately for Abigail, she's grabbed by a twit of a shoe salesman, Mr. Hershall Digman. She steals his horse and rides off to the nearest town, not giving him another thought...until she discovers those secret papers in his saddlebags. Could Mr. Digman be a Confederate spy? As if to prove it, the man who comes storming after her is no shoe salesman, but a handsome captain who wants his papers back...at any cost. And Abigail wants a ride back home. Together they embark on his mission, determined not to trust each other...or the God who won't seem to let them go.

Sujets

Historical romance

Romance

Informations

Publié par	Harvest House Publishers
Date de parution	01 juin 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780736943024
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0480€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota
Cover photo Chris Garborg; Bigstock / alctxphoto
Published in association with the Books Such Literary Agency, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409-5370, www.booksandsuch.biz .
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SISTERS OF MERCY FLATS Copyright 1992/2013 by Copeland, Inc. Published by Harvest House Publishers Eugene, Oregon 97402 www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Copeland, Lori.
Sisters of Mercy Flats / Lori Copeland.
pages cm
ISBN 978-0-7369-3022-2 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-4302-4 (eBook)
1. Christian fiction. 2. Love stories. I. Title.
PS3553.O6336S58 2013
813 .54-dc23
2012051515
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-without the prior written permission of publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a non-transferable, non-exclusive, and non-commercial right to access and view this electronic publication and agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author s and publisher s rights is strictly prohibited.
To Kathleen Kerr
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Discover What Happens to the Other McDougal Sisters
Other Books by Lori Copeland
About the Author
About the Publisher
One
July 1863
Houston, Texas
B est lookin herd of beef I ve seen this side of the Colorado! A.J. Donavan knocked the dust from his hat and then pitched it onto the bar. Texas Longhorns are a scroungy-looking lot, but this herd is prime hoof.
A three-bladed overhead fan in The Silver Slipper labored to stir the midday heat as Donavan signaled to the bartender for another shot. Turning to the cowboy standing next to him, he asked, Got any idea who owns the herd?
Ealy Moore turned his eyes to the ceiling pensively. Nope.
The bartender eyed the cattleman as he set a shot glass of whiskey in front of him. You in the market for beef, stranger?
I d be interested in buying that particular herd, A.J. admitted. Tossing the drink down, he motioned for another one. I ve been on the trail for over a month now and I m dry as a tick feather.
Don t guess it would be too hard to find out who owns the cows. The bartender lifted the bottle to refill the glass. My guess is they belong to one of those drovers who were in here round about noon. They were bragging about bringing in a big herd.
Know where the men went?
Said they were going over to the hotel for a bath and a shave and then they were gonna get skunk drunk- The man s voice faded when a shadow fell across the doorway of the bar.
The room s occupants glanced up to see three nuns standing in the entryway, their hands resting lightly on the heavy gold crosses that hung around their necks.
The men gaped at the sight. A reverent hush had suddenly enveloped the room. The sisters were young and exceptionally comely. Not remarkable, but it was noteworthy to find such rare, wholesome beauty hidden beneath dark habits.
The women remained in the doorway, their gazes moving slowly about the room, pausing momentarily on the table where four men with cigarettes dangling from the corners of their mouths were engaged in a game of jacks high. When they spotted the women they quickly folded their hands and crushed their smokes. Overhead a fly droned.
Moving with somber dignity the women glided across the room, their black habits brushing quietly along the wooden floor. The watering hole was near empty this afternoon. The earlier drinkers had gone about their business, and the evening crowd wouldn t be in for a while.
The air in the room was close; silence stretched. Others around the bar stood, glasses posed in midair, watching as the women approached.
Pausing in front of A.J., the middle sister spoke. I understand you are interested in purchasing our cattle. Her soft voice was peaceful, befitting her calling.
A.J. straightened. Er those your longhorns, ma am?
The sister smiled. Are you an interested buyer?
Well yes ma am. I d be real interested, Sister
Sister s eyes lowered submissively. Sister Anne-Marie.
Pleased to meet you, ma am er, Sister. He hurriedly wiped the dust from his hand and then extended it to her. A.J. Donavan s the name, cattle s my game.
Sister s head lowered. Mr. Donavan.
Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sister. You say you want to sell your herd? That s mighty fine beef.
Sister Anne-Marie lifted mournful eyes-a most uncommon shade of jade green. One man murmured. Exquisite. The term fit; still, it fell short of the breathtaking beauty that lay in the emerald pools.
The cattle are a gift to our mission, Sister Anne-Marie explained, her hand waving graciously to include the other two women.
A gift, you say? Surprise lit his craggy features, apparently astounded that women would be in charge of the sizable herd.
The sisters bowed their heads, murmuring softly in unison, Praise be to God, Sister Anne-Marie continued. If it were not for the kindness shown by others, our mission could not survive.
The bartender leaned closer. What mission is that, Sisters?
Our Lady of Perpetual Grace.
He frowned, shaking his head. Don t believe I ve ever heard of it.
It is but a small, modest mission, the nun conceded.
A.J. frowned. I don t understand, Sister. If the cattle are a gift-
A gift we cannot keep, Sister Anne-Marie acknowledged. We have no means to care for such a large herd. Our order is small, and our funds are meager. With the help of some very kind hombres, Sister Amelia, Sister Abigail, and I have managed to bring the herd here to sell. The money we receive from the cattle sale will help see us through the coming winter.
A.J. shifted to face the other two sisters. They nodded gravely.
They re mighty fine-looking animals, he admitted. How many head you got there? Twenty-five, twenty-six hundred?
No sir. Only twenty-four hundred thirty-three head, Sister Anne-Marie said. We began the journey with twenty-five hundred, but we suffered losses along the way.
Sister Abigail reached to lay her hand upon Anne-Marie s arm. Still, we have been most fortunate. The Lord has smiled upon us, for we only lost sixty-seven head in all.
Sister Anne-Marie nodded, clearly repentant. Of course, Sister. We have been most blessed.
You must have had good grass and water along the way. The cattle appear to be well fed, A.J. noted.
The Lord smiled on us, Mr. Donavan.
Well, ladies, the cattle baron nodded, if you re willing to sell the longhorns at market price-
Oh no, sir. Sister Anne-Marie held up a hand to stop him. We couldn t do that.
Now ma am, as fine as those cattle are I d have to think about paying above market price. His expression said that he wasn t about to be fleeced, even by a nun. You got a mighty fine herd, but I couldn t pay above three dollars a head.
Kind sir, it would only be fair if we sold the cattle for a dollar a head below market price, the nun insisted.
A dollar below market price?
Below market price, she stated firmly, and Sister Abigail and Sister Amelia nodded in solemn agreement. It is imperative that we sell the cattle and return to the mission as quickly as possible. The vaqueros who have so kindly helped us drive the cattle here have families who need tending, and the return trip is long and arduous. Even if we leave before sunset, we shall travel for days before we reach home again. Since it is we who find ourselves on the horns of this dilemma, it is hardly fair to ask you to pay market price. Sister Anne-Marie glanced at Sister Abigail and Sister Amelia, who were again nodding in full agreement. If you want the cattle, the herd is yours for a dollar a head below market price.
A.J. turned to face the room. You re sure? A dollar a head below market? You all are witness to the offer?
Men s heads nodded in unison.
We are quite certain, Sister Anne-Marie said. If we are able to begin our return journey back to the mission within the hour, the sacrifice will be warranted.
Sister, A.J. said, extending his hand, you just got yourself a deal.
Sister Anne-Marie smiled. May God richly bless you, Mr. Donavan, as He has so richly blessed us.
If you ll wait right here, it ll only take me a minute to go to the bank and get your draft.
Cash, the sister corrected. Cash would be most suitable.
Cash it ll be. Reaching for his hat, A.J. motioned to the bartender. Get the sisters a glass of sarsaparilla while they re waiting.
The women exchanged a glance, their eyes silently condoning the slight stimulation.

The clock on the wall slowly ticked away the minutes as the sisters sat at a table near the doorway, sipping their sarsaparilla. The men had drifted to one corner of the bar, obviously trying to look inconspicuous until Donavan returned with the money.
Exactly fifteen minutes from the time he left, A.J. reentered the bar. The sisters quietly rose when he hurried toward their table.
Here you are. He pressed a large brown envelope into Sister Anne-Marie s hand. You ll find the full amount, plus an extra hundred. He offered