The Treacherous Journey
Escaping north is her only option…And he’s the only one with the skill to get her there.
Widowed and with child, Emma Malcom is fleeing from the reward offered for her arrest. She’s innocent of the dirty dealings her deceased husband orchestrated, but the angry townspeople didn’t stop to listen to her defense before she narrowly escaped with her life. Now, she and her twin brother, Joseph, must battle the mountain wilderness of the Rockies to reach Canada and the clean start she craves. But when a fall from the rocky cliff leaves Joseph wounded and weak, could the strange mountain man they encounter be God’s gift to see them to safety?
Simeon Grant makes bad choices. His deceased wife and twin babies are lost to him now because of his reckless decisions, and the penance he pays by living alone in this mountain wilderness is only a small piece of what he thinks he deserves. When a city woman, heavy with child, appears on his doorstep with her injured brother, her presence resurrects the memories he’s worked so hard to forget. And when she asks for his help to travel deeper into the mountain country, he can’t help wonder why God would force him to relive the same mistakes he’s already suffered through. Or maybe taking these two to safety could be the way to redeem himself.
But when their travels prove more treacherous than he imagined, Simeon finds himself pressing the limits of his ability to keep Emma and her brother safe. Can he overcome the past that haunts him to be the man she needs? Will Emma break through the walls around Simeon’s heart before it’s too late, or will the dangers of these mountains be the end of them all?
Enjoy an Excerpt
Emma fought a wave of protectiveness as the mountain man peered at Joseph’s arm again. His face was hard to read, but she didn’t like the way he’d tried to get rid of her. He either didn’t know as much about doctoring as he’d made it sound, or the work ahead would be painful for Joseph. Either way, she would be here to protect and support her brother. She’d had more than her fair share of secretive men with hidden agendas, and she wasn’t about to let Joseph suffer more than necessary at the hands of this one.
The mountain man rose to his feet, and she took an involuntary step back as his height towered above her. He was taller than Joseph. Taller than her late husband by at least six inches.
He strode to the other side of the room and opened a wooden box. After rifling through for a moment, he extracted a small cloth bundle and turned to face her. “I’m going to get a splint. Steep this in a tea for your husband.” He tossed the parcel, and she barely caught it in the crook of her right arm.
“He’s not…” She started to correct him about her relationship to Joseph, but the man slipped out of the cabin and shut the door before she could finish.
She held up the pouch, tied closed with a strip of leather, then glanced over at the pot warming on the hearth beside the fire. Should she make a whole kettle of the tea, or just one cup for Joseph? Her poor brother was pale as fresh milk, and his mouth was pinched in a tight line. If this was meant to help his pain, he’d need a whole pot full. She crossed to the fire and poured the contents of the pouch into the metal pitcher.
With the tea steeping, she knelt on Joseph’s good side and stroked the hair from his brow. “How’re you feeling, love?”
“Hurts.” Joseph didn’t open his eyes. And the fact that he didn’t try to make light of his pain or sound reassuring gave truth to the intensity of his anguish.
“I’m so sorry.” She combed through his curls, letting her fingernails skim his scalp in a way she hoped would be soothing. “I think we’ve found someone who can help you.”
As if summoned, the door opened, and the mountain man stepped inside again. He wore buckskins like the frontiersmen they’d seen in Fort Benton. Except this man even wore them on his feet, laced up to his knees. She’d only seen Indians wearing shoes like that, and even then, she’d only seen drawings on flyers advertising Wild West shows as she and Joseph had traveled up the Mississippi.
Was this man an Indian? His dark hair appeared more brown than black, even in the dim light of the cabin. And those blue eyes… They’d been piercing as he’d stood in front of his home like a sentry, glaring at the two of them. No, he didn’t look the way she’d heard the redskins described.
Although maybe there was something a little savage about him. No, not savage, just…wild. Something that made you take a second look at him. Something she wasn’t sure if she should fear or admire.
More About the Author
Misty M. Beller writes romantic mountain stories, set on the 1800s frontier and woven with the truth of God’s love. For a limited time, you can get her bestselling novel, The Lady and the Mountain Man, FREE here: https://www.subscribepage.com/s8n2o1
She was raised on a farm in South Carolina, so her Southern roots run deep. Growing up, her family was close, and they continue to keep that priority today. Her husband and daughters now add another dimension to her life, keeping her both grounded and crazy.
God has placed a desire in Misty’s heart to combine her love for Christian fiction and the simpler ranch life, writing historical novels that display God’s abundant love through the twists and turns in the lives of her characters.
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