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Woman of Sunlight (Brides of Hope Mountain Book #2) , livre ebook

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148 pages
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Description

After years of isolation on top of Hope Mountain, Ilsa Nordegren may finally be ready to leave. Raised to fear the world, Ilsa and her sisters never planned on coming down, but when the Warden family arrived in need, they had to help. And it may cost them everything. Having made his fortune, Mitch Warden returned home and found the family homestead abandoned. In a land grab, a ruthless cattle baron had forced his family to escape up the mountain, and when he follows, the last thing he expects is to fall smitten to a black-haired woman who dresses like Robin Hood. Warden is intent on helping his family reclaim their land, but doesn't realize the risks his past has brought. Dangerous men have tracked him, and rather than risk innocent lives, he's determined to end the danger. But that means a journey to the city--and when Ilsa insists on joining him, the mismatched pair suddenly find themselves on a venture they'll never forget.

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Publié par
Date de parution 03 mars 2020
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781493421688
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0432€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Mary Connealy
From Bethany House Publishers
T HE K INCAID B RIDES
Out of Control
In Too Deep
Over the Edge
T ROUBLE IN T EXAS
Swept Away
Fired Up
Stuck Together
W ILD AT H EART
Tried and True
Now and Forever
Fire and Ice
T HE C IMARRON L EGACY
No Way Up
Long Time Gone
Too Far Down
H IGH S IERRA S WEETHEARTS
The Accidental Guardian
The Reluctant Warrior
The Unexpected Champion
B RIDES OF H OPE M OUNTAIN
Aiming for Love
Woman of Sunlight
The Boden Birthright: A C IMARRON L EGACY Novella
Meeting Her Match: A M ATCH M ADE IN T EXAS Novella
Runaway Bride: A K INCAID B RIDES and T ROUBLE IN T EXAS Novella ( With This Ring? Collection)
The Tangled Ties That Bind: A K INCAID B RIDES Novella ( Hearts Entwined Collection)
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2020 by Mary Connealy
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2020
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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-2168-8
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Author is represented by the Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
Dedication
Woman of Sunlight is dedicated to Lauren, my precious new granddaughter.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Mary Connealy
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
1

November 1873 Hope Mountain Near Bucksnort, Colorado, Near Grizzly Peak, Colorado
Y ou look awful.” Mitch Warden poured himself a cup of coffee and studied Ilsa Nordegren’s face as she stepped into the kitchen.
Her face was peppered with half-healed blisters left from having chicken pox, but she resisted the urge to slap her hands over her scabby cheeks.
For that matter, she resisted the urge to slap Mitch.
“You’re the reason I look so dreadful. You brought this sickness to me.” A cranky side of herself that she really hadn’t known she had made her shove Mitch back. He didn’t even move, but she felt good doing it. “No one ever got sick before you came home.”
He’d come down with it first and given it to Ilsa. He’d brought it with him when he came home from back east. He’d found his family’s Colorado ranch deserted, but he and his chicken pox had followed his family to the top of Lost Peak—that’s the name Ilsa’s grandpa had for this place, but the Wardens had always called it Hope Mountain.
She glared at him. “You look awful, too.”
He didn’t really. He wasn’t all the way healed—but he was two weeks ahead of Ilsa. And truth be told, he was a good-looking varmint. Not overly tall, but tall compared to her. Dark blond hair. A nice square chin and brown eyes that made her think of the rich wood of an old oak.
But all that wasn’t a good enough reason not to insult him back.
“Mitch, hush.” Isabelle Warden, Mitch’s mother, who made everyone call her Ma, spoke without turning around, and without stopping her work peeling apples for a pie.
Mitch set his tin coffee cup on the kitchen table and poured a glass of water, then handed it to Ilsa. “Drink this.”
He kept pushing water and broth at her even though her fever had gone down over two weeks ago and all her blistered pockmarks had dried up and scabbed over and she was eating plenty of food and had been for days.
But she really did look awful. And Ma had a mirror, something Ilsa had never seen before, so she couldn’t lie to herself or smash the mirror, which would be wrong and wouldn’t solve the problem anyway.
But she was getting better every day. The red was gone from her face—well, her whole body, but no one saw the rest but her—and her strength had returned.
Still, Mitch treated her like she was in desperate need.
The galoot probably felt guilty and well he should.
“You can quit being a doctor now,” Ilsa said. “I’m back to being the doctor for everyone here.” It was true that Ilsa had more doctoring skills than anyone else. She’d been taught them by her grandpa before he died, and he’d learned the ways of healing from native folks he’d lived with long ago.
Mitch held the water in front of her face. She snatched it away and gulped it down just to make him stop.
She thrust the now-empty cup back into his hands.
Mitch set it aside, picked up his coffee, and took a long sip as he studied her, most likely for signs of thirstiness.
To get his mind off her awful speckled face, she said, “As soon as Jo and Dave get back from town, I’m going to ride with them to visit Ursula. I’m well enough.”
Josephine was her older sister, newly married to Mitch’s brother, Dave. Ilsa always called her Jo. Ursula was her even-older sister who had turned into some kind of lunatic hermit.
Ilsa and her sisters had lived up here completely alone after their grandparents died, leaving the three girls on their own at a very young age. And they stayed up here because of their grandma and grandpa’s terrible warnings to never leave the mountains because there was deadly danger in the lowlands.
Those had been good days.
Then the Wardens had moved in, and soon after, along came their pest of a son Mitch.
Mitch slammed his cup on the table. “You are not up to riding to see your crazy sister any time soon. You’re barely up from your sickbed.”
“My sister isn’t crazy.” Honestly, some days Ursula seemed as crazy as a rabid skunk bear, but Ilsa ignored that and glared at Mitch. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel or where I can go.”
Nobody did. Not once since her grandpa died. Her sisters had let her come and go as she chose, and it suited her.
“Well, somebody’s got to tell you when you don’t seem to have a lick of sense.”
“Mitch,” Ma snapped, turning away from her apples, “go out and see if your father and Dave are coming up the trail.”
“Ma, you know there are sentries who’ll let us know if—”
“Go,” Ma snapped, then pointed a very motherly finger toward the door. She’d been throwing Mitch out a lot lately. “And don’t come back until you can be polite to Ilsa.”
Ilsa was always glad to see him go. And considering Ma’s order about being polite, he’d be gone awhile. Maybe forever.
Not that Ilsa really understood what polite was. It must have something to do with him being so cranky.
Mitch picked on her, nagged her, and found every fault in her. The man was just watching her too closely, and she felt much better when he was gone.
Ilsa knew she treated him a lot like he treated her. But he deserved it and she didn’t. Anyone could see that.
He snorted like a caged bull, then stormed out, slamming the door.
“Your son seems easily upset,” Ilsa said. She’d had no practice understanding what people were thinking. She’d gotten the impression others could look at someone in the face and say, “he’s mad . . . he’s worried . . . she’s sad.”
Well, Ilsa knew what a frown was and a smile. But beyond that, she and her sisters had always just said what they thought straight out.
She didn’t understand gleaning details from watching someone’s face.
“He most certainly does.” Ma gave her the oddest smile. And why was it odd? Ilsa couldn’t say.
Ilsa helped with the apples. Soon she heard hooves galloping away. Mitch had saddled up and was off.
“I have some eggs and bacon keeping warm in the back of the fireplace. Let me get you some breakfast.” Ma made food so deliciously. Ilsa paid rapt attention whenever cooking was involved. She was learning more from Ma every day.
As she ate the wonderful food, Ilsa thought of how much she stayed inside these days. It wasn’t normal for her. The woods and treetops, the caves and trails, were as much her home as the inside of a cabin, and she missed being outside until it was a kind of hunger. She’d spent far too much time indoors since she’d gotten sick. She wouldn’t have minded going along with Mitch, except she’d’ve had Mitch for company.
Anyway, Jo and Dave and Quill Warden, Dave and Mitch’s pa, weren’t coming yet. The sentries would’ve let them know. Ma just wanted peace. Ilsa would have liked to check for herself, though. She was anxious for Dave to get back because he’d taken Jo with him. And Ilsa wanted to see her sister again and go back to their cabin.
This one had too many grouchy men in it. One too many.
The cabin they were in was built near where the forest started on the northeast edge of a huge, grassy meadow. The trail down the mountain opened after a short ride into the forest on the far side. Ilsa expected the ride to take him a long time, especially since his mother throwing him out had so obviously been intended to keep him out.
If she couldn’t go see Ursula, she could at least get out of the confines of this cabin. A long, cold walk would suit her right now. With that in mind, and without asking Ma, who could be counted on to always have some rule Ilsa didn’t understand, she slipped into her coat, grabbed her bonnet and gloves, and was outside and running before Ma could say anything.
She dashed into her beloved forest. The first tree she found to her liking, she scampered up, light and easy as any woodland creature, then

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