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191 pages

English

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Annabelle Grayson has been given a second chance at life, but she can't claim it with the cloud of her past hanging over her in Willow Springs. After her husband dies, she advertises for a trail guide to accompany her to land waiting for her in Idaho--and a most unlikely candidate applies for the job.Matthew Taylor is a man on the run, with consequences of past mistakes pursuing him at every turn. Meeting Annabelle Grayson the first time was unpleasant enough, but when she crosses his path again, her presence in his life--and what she reveals--is devastating. If given a single wish, Matthew would turn back time and right a grievous wrong. If given a second wish, he would make Annabelle Grayson pay.

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 novembre 2006
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781585588893
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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

© 2006 by Tamera Alexander
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 2010
Ebook corrections 04.14.2016 (VBN), 08.29.2016
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 in brief quotations in printed reviews.
Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations identified NLT are from the Holy Bible , New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Studio Gearbox Cover photograph by Steve Gardner, Pixel Works Studio
Praise for Rekindled, the first book of the
F OUNTAIN C REEK C HRONICLES
Alexander has written a charming historical romance that features well-drawn characters and smooth, compelling storytelling that will have readers anxiously awaiting the second installment of the F OUNTAIN C REEK C HRONICLES. Highly recommended. . . .
—Tamara Butler, Library Journal (Starred Review)
It’s a pleasure to read this debut book. Rich prose, a realistic setting and characters, and a compassionate story of love will keep you turning the pages long into the night. . . .
— Romantic Times TOP PICK (4½ stars)
[A] tenderhearted story of redemption. . . . Rarely does a debut novel combine such a masterful blend of captivating story and technical excellence. Alexander has introduced a delightful cast of winsome characters, and there’s a promise of more stories yet to be told.
—Kristine Wilson, Aspiring Retail
Tamera Alexander has penned an outstanding debut lyrically rich in life’s lessons and faith in God’s love, featuring two very likeable protagonists. It is generously peopled with memorable secondary characters this reader will be anxious to see in the future books of this series. This is a novel that should easily find its way into your hearts and onto your keeper shelves!
— Inspirational Romance Writers.com
A beautifully written and anything-but-old-school inspirational romance. Rekindled . . . is an examination of faith. Not only leaps of spiritual fidelity, but also the faith in self individuals choose when challenged to live their love, as well as their beliefs.
—Michelle Buonfiglio, Romance: B(u)y the Book, WNBC.com/romance
DEDICATION
To Deborah Ackey, my 7th grade teacher at Idlewood Elementary School in Tucker, Georgia.
Like a proverbial message in a bottle, this dedication is being cast on the waters in hopes that it one day finds you. Years ago you read a young girl’s poems and stories, and you gave her hope and encouragement, though her work was far from deserving. I’ve thought of you often through the years and pray that God has blessed you for all you gave to me, and to so many others.
CONTENT
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
PRAISE FOR REKINDLED
DEDICATION
EPIGRAPH
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER | TWENTY - FOUR
CHAPTER | TWENTY - FIVE
CHAPTER | TWENTY - SIX
CHAPTER | TWENTY - SEVEN
CHAPTER | TWENTY - EIGHT
CHAPTER | TWENTY - NINE
CHAPTER | THIRTY
CHAPTER | THIRTY - ONE
CHAPTER | THIRTY - TWO
CHAPTER | THIRTY - THREE
CHAPTER | THIRTY - FOUR
CHAPTER | THIRTY - FIVE
CHAPTER | THIRTY - SIX
CHAPTER | THIRTY - SEVEN
CHAPTER | THIRTY - EIGHT
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY TAMERA ALEXANDER
BACK AD
BACK COVER
Then Jesus told this story to some who had great self-confidence and scorned everyone else: ‘‘Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, and the other was a dishonest tax collector. The proud Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: ‘I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else, especially like that tax collector over there! For I never cheat, I don’t sin, I don’t commit adultery, I fast twice a week, and I give you a tenth of my income.’
‘‘But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, ‘O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.’ I tell you, this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home justified before God. For the proud will be humbled, but the humble will be honored.’’
LUKE 18:9–14 NLT
PROLOGUE
Colorado Territory, May 14, 1870 In the shadow of the Rockies
A NNABELLE G RAYSON M C C UTCHENS stared at the dying man beside her and wished, as she had the day she married him, that she loved her husband more. Loved him with the same desire he felt for her. Given all the men she’d known in her past, how was it that now, after meeting a truly good man who loved her despite what she had done and been, her whole heart wouldn’t open fully to him? No matter how she tried.
Jonathan tried to pull in a deep breath. Sitting beside him, Annabelle cringed as she heard the air thread its way down his throat, barely lifting his barrel chest. The shallow movement of air rattled dull against the fluid in his lungs.
An ache started deep inside her. How could this solid mountain of a man have been brought low so swiftly? The chest pains had started without warning. But the fatigue and coughing fits Jonathan had experienced in recent weeks had taken on a deeper, more ominous meaning in past days. How could the heart of a man beat so strong and steady in one sense and yet be fading so quickly in another?
A breeze whipped the wagon canopy and drew Annabelle’s focus upward toward a languid summer sun, hanging half masked behind the highest Rocky Mountain peaks. A burnt-orange glow bathed the vast eastern plains in promise of the coming twilight. The group they’d set out with from Denver nearly a week ago had waited with them a day, as was the agreement from the outset in such circumstances, in order to see if Jonathan would gain strength. But when Jonathan’s pain worsened and the prospect of recovery dimmed of all hope, Jack Brennan reluctantly explained the group had to push on. They needed to make up for a late departure due to unaccustomed spring rains in order to reach the Idaho Territory before the first snowfall.
After several minutes Jonathan’s breathing evened. His eyes were closed, and Annabelle wondered if he’d slipped back into sleep.
‘‘You’re as pretty as I’ve ever imagined a woman could be, Annabelle.’’ His voice came gentle. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers across her brow and down her cheek.
She gave a bleak laugh and shook her head at his foolishness.
‘‘Yes, I’m quite the catch. I’m glad you got me when you did, ’cause I had others waiting in line, you know.’’ Seeing his mouth tip on one side, Annabelle smiled.
She’d been pretty when younger, but beauty was a trait that time—and choices she’d made—had erased from her features, and she knew it. A thin, puckered scar marred the top of her right cheekbone, etching its jagged flesh-colored path up her temple and into her hairline. She’d lived with it for the past fifteen years, and it served as a tangible memory of her first lesson in what some men who had visited the brothel termed pleasure.
‘‘What do you think you’re doin’, Annie girl?’’
Only then did Annabelle become aware of how she was tugging her hair down on that side of her face. Quickly dropping her hand, she laughed in hopes of covering her self-consciousness. The sound came out flat and unconvincing. ‘‘I’m just thinking about how you must find scars attractive, Jonathan McCutchens.’’
With accustomed gentleness, he caressed her cheek. ‘‘I find you attractive, Mrs. McCutchens. Only you.’’
His tenderness silenced the ready quip on her tongue, and the ache inside her rose to a steady thrum. She cared more for this man than she had any person in her life, so why couldn’t she coerce her feelings to mirror his? For as far back as she could remember, she’d known that feelings in themselves couldn’t be trusted. Emotions lived for a moment, then faded, and they even turned traitorous, given time. So she’d learned not to give them much heed. She’d simply expected things to be different between them as husband and wife.
She’d asked God many times to increase her desire for Jonathan.
But apparently God didn’t listen to prayers of that sort. Or maybe He just didn’t listen to hers.
‘‘Thank you for havin’ me as your husband, Annie. I had such plans for us. . . for our child.’’ He moved his hand, and she guided it to rest over the place where their son or daughter was nestled deep inside. Jonathan softly caressed her flat belly as though trying to comfort the tiny babe within.
His hand moved in slow circles over their child, and she shut her eyes tight as an unwelcome memory fought its way to the surface. She sat there, defenseless and mute, as years-old guilt and shame crept over her again. Pregnancies in brothels were common, but so were aloes and cathartic powders to terminate them, often leaving the girls who took them damaged beyond repair.
That she was carrying Jonathan’s child was a blessing. That she was pregnant again. . . was a miracle.
‘‘I’m so sorry to be leavin’ you like this, Annie. It’s not—’’ His deep voice broke with emotion. ‘‘It’s not turning out like I planned. I’m sorry. . . .’’
She shook her head and leaned close, bringing