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Wagon Train Sweetheart
Lacy Williams
A Promised BrideEmma Hewitt never thought she'd travel thousands of miles to wed. Yet Oregon is where she'll meet the groom her brothers have chosen. After years of nursing her ailing father, Emma's social skills are lacking. An arranged marriage is only sensible. And her growing feelings for Nathan Reed, a worker on her wagon train, are surely better forgotten.Nathan knows he's wrong for Emma. He's too rough, too burdened with guilt over his past. But when Emma nurses him through a fever, she sees something in him no one ever has. Now he wants to be a man worthy of her love. Emma's loyalty to family has always come first. Will she find the courage now to follow her heart?Journey West: Romance and adventure await three siblings on the Oregon Trail
A Promised Bride
Emma Hewitt never thought she’d travel thousands of miles to wed. Yet Oregon is where she’ll meet the groom her brothers have chosen. After years of nursing her ailing father, Emma’s social skills are lacking. An arranged marriage is only sensible. And her growing feelings for Nathan Reed, a worker on her wagon train, are surely better forgotten.
Nathan knows he’s wrong for Emma. He’s too rough, too burdened with guilt over his past. But when Emma nurses him through a fever, she sees something in him no one ever has. Now he wants to be a man worthy of her love. Emma’s loyalty to family has always come first. Will she find the courage now to follow her heart?
Journey West: Romance and adventure await three siblings on the Oregon Trail
“What do you think you’re doing?” Emma demanded.
“I thought I would—” A cough cut off his sentence. “Hitch up the oxen and get ready to pull out.”
Emma’s expression turned into a thunderhead. When Nathan’s gaze slid to her brother, Hewitt was…chuckling?
“I figured I’d get out of your way, now that I’m better.”
Her frown only intensified. “Lie back down.” She blocked him from moving anywhere but deeper into the wagon.
“Get some rest,” Hewitt said. The man walked off and Nathan wanted nothing more than to be able to do the same, to find somewhere private to lick his wounds. But he was still near face-to-face with Emma.
He gave in, lying back and staring up at the white underside of the bonnet.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded cheery. “The good news is you won’t have to bear my company all day.”
It was a relief. He didn’t know how to converse with her.
But he also felt a small twinge of disappointment.
“What am I supposed to do confined to the wagon?” he asked.
“Rachel and I would be cheered if you were to serenade us as we walk.”
He stared dumbly at her until she dissolved into giggles. How long had it been since he’d made anyone smile?
* * *
Journey West: Romance and adventure
await three siblings on the Oregon Trail
Wagon Train Reunion—
Linda Ford, April 2015
Wagon Train Sweetheart—
Lacy Williams, May 2015
Wagon Train Proposal—
Renee Ryan, June 2015
LACY WILLIAMS is a wife and mom from Oklahoma. She has loved romance from childhood and promises readers happy endings in all her stories. Her books have been finalists for the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award (three years running), the Golden Quill and the Booksellers’ Best Award. Lacy loves to hear from readers at lacyjwilliams@gmail.com. She can be found at lacywilliams.net (https://lacywilliamsauthor.wordpress.com), facebook.com/lacywilliamsbooks (http://www.facebook.com/lacywilliamsbooks) or twitter.com/lacy_williams (http://www.twitter.com/lacy_williams).
Wagon Train Sweetheart
Lacy Williams
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid;
do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God
will be with you wherever you go.
—Joshua 1:9
With gratefulness to my friends from the OKC Christian Fiction Writers chapter of ACFW, who helped brainstorm and always encourage me.
Contents
Cover (#u1c5974dc-fbf1-5511-ba1b-c2e9bda8c9c8)
Back Cover Text (#u8fec0782-61bc-556a-8e36-ee12d62991a7)
Introduction (#u8a89f63d-cfdf-5cea-b48e-538f86ea3109)
About the Author (#u6c24786d-84b3-5889-a1b8-932e2cb03f72)
Title Page (#u163165b5-3b26-5caf-9bcb-52edadf7e50b)
Quote (#ue29309f1-4844-543f-acab-c4c7c42b3242)
Dedication (#u07edf18c-7781-52ee-b4fe-624687543e78)
Chapter One (#ulink_d6c6e00e-2a33-5e1c-a8da-159b11613cd8)
Chapter Two (#ulink_e0047b9f-e1e0-5ec3-8650-9e5beab3fa7d)
Chapter Three (#ulink_c55c0db3-9f93-536b-9921-e80b6d41527a)
Chapter Four (#ulink_075a3fff-ddac-5028-ac31-dd80ef22dd98)
Chapter Five (#ulink_a154964f-e390-5fc4-b1c5-7e7de7ff8033)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_25edc7c3-1080-56c9-a002-7b638b419d26)
“He’s a stinkin’ thief!” The belligerent voice hurled the accusation like a stone. “We don’t need his kind on this wagon train!”
Nathan Reed stood against the words, hands bound in front of him with rope, the way they had been since last night. Like a common criminal.
Like he deserved.
But not for stolen hair combs. He was innocent—this time.
He kept his eyes squinted where the rising sun was lighting the top two jutting buttes that formed a narrow canyon—he’d overheard someone call it Devil’s Gate. The landmark was outside the circle of their wagons, where they’d stopped the night before.
“You’re sure you saw this man—Mr. Reed—climbing out of our wagon with my sister’s hair combs?” Ben Hewitt asked of the preacher.
The small committee had gathered in the predawn light, wanting privacy from the rest of the travelers in their westbound wagon train. This was Nathan’s judge and jury—the men who would decide his fate.
Hewitt was a broad-shouldered, sandy-haired and seemingly good-natured man, from the few interactions Nathan had had with him. But Ben Hewitt didn’t know Nathan. Didn’t count him as a friend. Nobody did, that’s why Nathan was the only suspect.
Out of the corner of his vision, Nathan saw that Hewitt’s sister Emma stood next to him and the group of men, the breeze blowing her deep green skirt a little. Probably sending wisps of her honey-brown hair dancing against her cheeks.
He didn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see accusation or recrimination in the vivid blue eyes he’d had only glimpses of when driving the Binghams’ wagon.
He saw enough of the emotion when he had a chance to spy his reflection in a stream or pond.
He knew, probably better than anyone, that defending himself would get him nowhere. He was friendless on this Oregon-bound wagon train. No one to stand up for him.
The wind blew his long, unruly black hair across his cheek, but he didn’t raise his bound hands to push it away.
“Erm…well, it was getting dark. It looked like him.” It wasn’t solid proof. It sounded as if the preacher didn’t fully believe it himself. But that didn’t seem to matter to the other men.
“Everyone else was accounted for,” Ernie Jones blustered. Jones wasn’t a committeeman, but had claimed to have witnessed the theft, along with the preacher.
“You got anything to say for yourself, Reed?” James Stillwell asked. The man had been watching Nathan with suspicion since Stillwell had joined up with the wagon train.
Nathan didn’t know why. Maybe he just looked suspicious, or maybe the man could see his past in his face.
Again, Nathan said nothing. What was the use?
The breeze felt good against his overheated cheeks. The rising sun played tricks with his eyes as he kept them locked on the gradual rise of the red rock slope in the distance.
He felt dizzy and a little nauseated. He hadn’t had much of an appetite the past few days, and maybe not eating enough was catching up to him. Being on the trail day in, day out wore on a body. With no wagon of his own, he depended on the kindness of others for his meals.
And Nathan didn’t like depending on anyone. Joining up with the wagon train was his last chance to find a new start for himself. A chance to finally outrun the past that dogged his every step.
“Did anyone find the combs on Mr. Reed’s person?” Emma Hewitt’s soft voice was almost lost among the men’s murmuring.
No one except Nathan seemed to hear her.
Without his consent, his gaze slid to her. Luckily, she was looking at her brother, not at him.
He’d been right. Her skirt fluttered. The brisk wind had set wisps of her honey-gold hair dancing at her temple and against her cheeks, like a vision out here in the wilds of the Wyoming Territory. Something beautiful that didn’t belong.
He forced his eyes back to the craggy rocks in the distance.
Then her brother spoke up. “Did anybody find Emma’s hair combs among Reed’s things?”
“He ain’t got much.” Miles Cavanaugh, a committeeman, tossed Nathan’s satchel on the ground at his feet.
