Hidden in a Whisper (Westward Chronicles Book #2) , livre ebook

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126 pages

English

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Rachel has secured herself a rare position at the newest Harvey House in New Mexico. She looks forward to a new life there, far from the memories and longings of her heart--only to find that the very man her heart refuses to forget will be working right alongside her! Westward Chronicles Book 2.

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 août 2005
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441203212
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.

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Hidden in a Whisper
W E S T W A R D C H R O N I C L E S
TRACIE PETERSON
Hidden in a Whisper
© 1999 by Tracie Peterson
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 2013
Ebook corrections 01.24.2013
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.
ISBN 978-1-4412-0321-2
Cover design by Melinda Schumacher
Dedicated to
R amona
With thanks for the years of friendship for walking through dark valleys with me for celebrating in the sun. You are truly a gift from God.
Books by Tracie Peterson www.traciepeterson.com A Slender Thread • What She Left for Me Where My Heart Belongs A LASKAN Q UEST Summer of the Midnight Sun Under the Northern Lights • Whispers of Winter B RIDES OF G ALLATIN C OUNTY A Promise to Believe In • ALove to Last Forever A Dream to Call My Own T HE B ROADMOOR L EGACY * A Daughter’s Inheritance • An Unexpected Love A Surrendered Heart B ELLS OF L OWELL * Daughter of the Loom • A Fragile Design These Tangled Threads Bells of Lowell (3 in 1) L IGHTS OF L OWELL * A Tapestry of Hope • A Love Woven True The Pattern of Her Heart D ESERT R OSES Shadows of the Canyon • Across the Years Beneath a Harvest Sky H EIRS OF M ONTANA Land of My Heart • The Coming Storm To Dream Anew • The Hope Within L ADIES OF L IBERTY A Lady of High Regard • A Lady of Hidden Intent A Lady of Secret Devotion W ESTWARD C HRONICLES A Shelter of Hope • Hidden in a Whisper A Veiled Reflection YUKON QUEST Treasures of the North • Ashes and Ice • Rivers of Gold
* with Judith Miller
TRACIE PETERSON is a popular speaker and bestselling author who has written more than sixty books, both historical and contemporary fiction. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
Chicago, February 1885
INEVITABLE. HER MOTHER HAD SAID it was inevitable.
Rachel Taylor stared at her gloved hands and tried to imagine what she would say when Braeden made his appearance at the park gazebo. They had met here every Sunday afternoon for the past two months, defying the cold, bitter winds that blew off Lake Michigan. Defying the gossip that surrounded any lady who met a man unaccompanied.
But today would be the last time they would meet.
Her mother had said it was inevitable that a dashingly handsome man of means such as Braeden Parker would find himself attracted to women of more physical beauty and social standing than Rachel could boast. And so it had happened at least according to the women who boarded in her mother’s house. The esteemed Mr. Parker was seen to have been in the company of a rather wealthy and beautiful blond socialite. Not only in her company, but in her arms maybe even her bed, as some suggested.
It hardly seemed to matter that Braeden also inhabited Rachel’s heart and would for as long as she lived. But fate seemed cruel and God rather distant on the matter.
Rachel considered herself plain and at times even unpleasant with her curly auburn hair and green eyes, but Braeden had pledged to her his love and showered her with words of admiration and praise. He had likened her ruddy complexion to the blush of a rose. Her green eyes, he had said, were like twin emeralds burning with the fire of adventure and love of life. He saw in her the epitome of perfection. At least that was what he had told her.
Rachel rose and walked to the gazebo railing. Pieces of white paint were chipping away, evidence that the winter had been unduly harsh.
Life was unduly harsh, she decided.
She sighed, trying to pretend that this wasn’t the most difficult day of her life. Her head ached with a dull pounding that seemed to permeate her every thought. The pulsating beat was driving her mad. Fool!
Fool! Fool! It seemed to beat in a driving rhythm. Rubbing her temple with gloved fingers, Rachel closed her eyes, hoping, even praying that when she opened them again she would find it was nothing more than a nightmare.
But opening her eyes revealed the culmination of her pain. Even now she could see Braeden making his way down the cobblestone path.
He whistled a tune and it carried on the chilly, damp breeze, reaching Rachel’s ear as a painful reminder of what she was about to lose.
It seemed destiny had mapped for her a future that did not include her beloved Braeden.
He waved from the distant walk, then grabbed hold of his bowler just as the wind caught hold of the edge. He smiled as though all was right with the world. Perhaps he had hoped she would never find out about his secret certainly he had never figured on her putting an end to their romance. But then, ending their romance had been the furthest thing from Rachel’s mind as well.
Only a year ago Rachel lost her father, a rail yard worker, in a tragic accident. Crushed between two freight cars, he had died within moments of the impact, love for his wife and daughter the final things he had spoken of. Rachel still found it difficult to believe he was gone. He had doted upon her as his precious little princess, and Rachel had found herself rather accustomed to his spoiling.
Her mother, now widowed and forced to turn her home into a boardinghouse, busied herself with her friends, listening to one tale of woe or another, encouraging news from the neighborhood, and reveling in the information. Always given to seeking out the latest tidbits on the community, the boardinghouse made this lifestyle even more productive, and Elvira Taylor always knew what was happening well before anyone else. That’s why Rachel couldn’t doubt her now. As much as it grieved her, Rachel knew her mother was seldom wrong when it came to telling tales on other folks. She didn’t share this latest information with Rachel to be mean or malicious; in her mind she was simply looking out for her only daughter. Her hope was to keep a young and vulnerable Rachel from falling in love with a man who would only use her and then discard her for someone else.
Her mother believed there was nothing wrong with sharing the news of one person’s mishap or another’s triumph. The neighborhood was her personal domain, and everything that took place was of the utmost importance. It didn’t matter that the preacher spoke out against gossip on Sunday mornings. As far as Elvira Taylor was concerned, it was her civic duty to know the lives of her neighbors. After her husband’s death, this duty only became more prominent and essential. Her mother clung to her friends while Rachel had turned to Braeden for comfort. But no more.
Braeden had nearly crossed the park, and Rachel turned her attention back to the water of Lake Michigan fearful that if she did otherwise, she might betray her misery.
God help me , she prayed. At twenty-one, the last thing she wanted was to turn down the prospect of marriage to the man she loved. But at twenty-one she was also old enough to understand that emotions counted for very little when it came to committing your life to another person. Her mother constantly reminded her of her gullible nature her willingness to believe the best about everyone. Rachel had thought it was Christian charity that allowed for this, but her mother said it was immaturity and lack of life experience. She supposed, given the most recent events of her life, that this fact was well proven.
“You must be half frozen,” Braeden said, ascending the steps to the gazebo. “I shall have to warm you up.”
She could hear the teasing in his voice without even turning to greet him. She bit her lip for courage. What should she say? How could she explain? Once she turned to face him, he would see the redness of her eyes and guess that she had been crying.
As if understanding something was wrong, Braeden’s voice changed. “Rachel? What is it?” He turned her gently to face him and his voice became more pleading. “Has something happened? Is it your mother?”
Rachel shook her head and forced herself to meet his gaze. Her heart seemed to shatter. She had thought it already broken, but it wasn’t until just now, seeing him face-to-face, that she knew her heart was completely destroyed. She would never love again.
“Then what is it?” he asked, the compassion evident in his voice.
Rachel studied him for a moment in silence. She wanted to memorize everything about him his blue eyes, fringes of golden hair at the base of his bowler. She wanted to remember the squareness of his jaw, the prominent nose, and thick blond moustache. She wanted to take these things with her to hide them in her heart for those long, lonely nights when the memories came to haunt her and her conscience taunted her that perhaps she had not made the right choice.
“I’m afraid this is good-bye,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Funny, she thought. In a whisper of hearsay her future had been destroyed. Now in a whisper she would bid her love farewell.
His expression changed from compassion to confusion. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I cannot marry you.”
“Am I entitled to a reason?” he asked gently yet urgently.
Rachel shook her head. “I believe you know the reason, and speaking of it would only give me pain.”
Braeden’s brows raised. “No, I don’t know the reason, and as much as I am loath to cause you pain, I must know what divides us.”
Rachel turned bac