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Fear iced the blood in her veins.
He glanced down the trail in the direction she'd come. "You came here alone?"
"No," she lied. But it wasn't a lie. G.o.d was with her. Help me Help me, Lord. Lord. She stood a bit straighter. "The dynamite isn't there. Your plans have been found out. The authorities are right behind me." She stood a bit straighter. "The dynamite isn't there. Your plans have been found out. The authorities are right behind me."
She'd hoped her words would make him retreat. Instead he moved closer, and his expression turned angry.
"Then I guess I'd better keep you close." He pressed the barrel of the gun against her breastbone. "Hadn't I?"
O G.o.d. Rescue me!
THIRTY-THREE.
Morgan's mouth felt dry, his breathing shallow. Nothing in his life had struck terror in him like the sight of Gwen held captive at the point of a gun. He eased stealthily forward, circling off to the right, away from the trail he'd followed into the forest.
"Let's go," the man with the gun said, motioning with it to let her know the direction they were to take.
"You cannot think you will succeed." Gwen didn't move other than to lift her chin in defiance. "Mr. Carter will see that all the blame falls upon you."
Morgan allowed himself a grim smile. If she was afraid, she didn't show it.
"If you take me with you, I will only slow you down. You had best get away from here as quickly as you can."
The man stepped so close to Gwen that their noses almost touched. "If you don't move now, I'll shoot you where you stand."
Something in his voice told Morgan he might follow through with his threat. Time was running out.
Gwen's captor spun her around and gave her a push. A soft cry of complaint escaped her, and Morgan's response was quick and involuntary. He hurtled forward, tackling the man from behind and sending them to the ground. The gun went off.
G.o.d, no! no! But there was no time to see if the bullet had struck Gwen. First he had to make certain her attacker couldn't fire again. But there was no time to see if the bullet had struck Gwen. First he had to make certain her attacker couldn't fire again.
They rolled across the trail and slammed into the trunk of a tree, Morgan grasping the man's right wrist with both hands, pounding it against the ground time and again until, at last, the gun flew free. The smaller man fought hard, but he didn't have much of a chance against Morgan's fury.
Morgan rose to his feet, dragging the smaller man up with him. Still holding the fellow's shirt with his left hand, he brought up his right fist, catching the a.s.sailant under the chin, knocking off his gla.s.ses at the same time. He let go of the shirt and followed with two more punches, one to the jaw, the next to his midsection. The other man fell back, his head hitting a tree on the way down. Morgan would have hauled him up again if not for Gwen.
"Stop, Morgan."
Breathing hard, he turned to look at her. There she stood, the gun now held in her trembling hands. He glanced back at the stranger. Out cold. Then he heard her small sob. In an instant he was beside her, taking the gun from her hands, drawing her to him, holding her there, never wanting to release her again.
If he had lost her...
She'd thought the man would kill her. For all her bravado, she'd thought she would die. But her silent cry for G.o.d to rescue her had been answered. G.o.d had sent Morgan. She'd thought she didn't want or need his protection. She'd been wrong.
"Shh," he whispered near her ear. "It's all right. I'm here. The danger is past. The guards at New Hope will have heard the shot. They'll be here soon."
His words proved prophetic almost at once. In the distance, she heard the sound of men's voices and dogs barking.
"Over here!" Morgan called without loosening his tight embrace.
It wouldn't have mattered if he'd released her. She would have stayed right where she was, her forehead pressed against his collarbone, her hands clutching his shirtfront.
"Morgan?"
"We're here, f.a.gan."
Gwen rolled her head to the side, enough to see f.a.gan Doyle and three other men - two of them with dogs on leashes - appear through the forest.
"Take this," Morgan said, handing the gun to f.a.gan. "And our friend on the ground there. He tried to kidnap Gwen and almost shot her. Tell Sheriff Winston that I think with the right incentive, he might tell us who hired him."
"And Miss Arlington? Is she - "
"She's fine. Just scared." Morgan's right hand stroked her hair. "We'll join you in town. My car's back on the road a ways. See that one of the men takes her horse and buggy back to town, will you?"
"Aye, I'll see to it, Morgan." f.a.gan's voice softened. "Sure and it's good you're all right, miss."
"Thank you, Mr. Doyle," she whispered.
Morgan continued to stroke small circles on her back with the flat of his left hand while rubbing his cheek against the top of her head until long after the other men had left the forest and silence had fallen over them like a comfortable blanket.
At long last Gwen pulled back far enough that she could look into Morgan's eyes. "I was coming to find you to break our engagement. I didn't want anyone telling me what to do."
"And I was looking for you to apologize for last night." His smile was tender, his gaze understanding. "Forgive me."
"When I faced that man and his gun, I asked G.o.d to rescue me, and He sent you." She wondered if he understood the importance of that admission. She wasn't wholly self-sufficient. She needed others. She needed Morgan. And sometimes she even needed to be rescued.
He kissed her, brief touches upon her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. " 'And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.' Me and you and G.o.d. The three of us together will be stronger, no matter the circ.u.mstances."
His image blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
"Gwen, I won't ever ask you to change. I fell in love with a woman who had the courage to leave her home in the East and begin a new life in Idaho. I fell in love with a woman who loves to teach music to children and who cares deeply about her neighbors. I fell in love with a woman with enough confidence to become the first woman mayor in Idaho, maybe in the nation. Don't break our engagement. Don't break my heart."
She sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Say you'll marry me."
Although she wanted to respond, she couldn't seem to find her voice.
He kissed her again, this time a languid caress that indicated he was willing to stay right there in the forest for as long as it took her to believe him. And when their lips parted, he said, voice husky, "Madam Mayor, how about a vote of confidence for the man who loves you."
A cool breeze whispered through the trees and swirled around them, and as it moved on, she felt the last shred of uncertainty, the last iota of insecurity blow away with it. She believed him. She believed him and she loved him.
She smiled, hoping it would tell him more than would her words. "Yes, my love. I vote yes."
THE DAILY HERALDSat.u.r.day, July 24, 1915After a thorough investigation by the Crow County Sherriff, the Daily Herald Daily Herald has learned of the arrest of Mr. Harrison Carter, Esquire. He is charged with destruction of property and attempted kidnapping as an accessory before the fact. We have also learned that the subject's wife, Susannah Carter, has taken the couple's children and gone to stay with other members of her family in Illinois. has learned of the arrest of Mr. Harrison Carter, Esquire. He is charged with destruction of property and attempted kidnapping as an accessory before the fact. We have also learned that the subject's wife, Susannah Carter, has taken the couple's children and gone to stay with other members of her family in Illinois. Prior to his arrest, Mr. Carter served on the Board of County Commissioners for four terms and was considered one of the leading members of Bethlehem Springs society. Prior to his arrest, Mr. Carter served on the Board of County Commissioners for four terms and was considered one of the leading members of Bethlehem Springs society. The trial of Mr. Carter - as well as that of his a.s.sociate, one Elias Spade - is set to begin in September. The trial of Mr. Carter - as well as that of his a.s.sociate, one Elias Spade - is set to begin in September.
THE DAILY HERALD.
Monday, August 16, 1915On Sat.u.r.day afternoon, August 14, 1915, Miss Guinevere Arlington, daughter of Mr. Griffin Arlington of Crow County and Mrs. Elizabeth Arlington of New Jersey, was joined in marriage to Mr. Morgan McKinley. The ceremony was held in the Syringa Prayer Chapel on the grounds of the New Hope Health Spa, which is owned by the bridegroom. The bride wore a delicate tea-length gown of ivory satin and sheer lace and a tulle veil crowned with roses and beads. Her sister, Miss Cleopatra Arlington, attended the bride, and Mr. f.a.gan Doyle stood with the groom. Among the guests were the bride's parents; the groom's sister, Miss Daphne McKinley of Ma.s.sachusetts; and Idaho senator William Rudyard of Boise. The bride wore a delicate tea-length gown of ivory satin and sheer lace and a tulle veil crowned with roses and beads. Her sister, Miss Cleopatra Arlington, attended the bride, and Mr. f.a.gan Doyle stood with the groom. Among the guests were the bride's parents; the groom's sister, Miss Daphne McKinley of Ma.s.sachusetts; and Idaho senator William Rudyard of Boise. After a honeymoon trip to California where, among other sights, they will visit the Panama-California Exhibition in San Diego, the couple will return to Bethlehem Springs, at which time the new Mrs. McKinley will resume her duties as the town's mayor. After a honeymoon trip to California where, among other sights, they will visit the Panama-California Exhibition in San Diego, the couple will return to Bethlehem Springs, at which time the new Mrs. McKinley will resume her duties as the town's mayor.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
With much appreciation to all the people at Zondervan who work so hard to bring my books to readers. Without my publisher, editors, designers, and marketing and publicity people, these stories would be nothing more than entertainment for myself.
FROM THE AUTHOR.
Who says a woman can't be a mayor?
Dear Friends:I hope you enjoyed meeting Gwen, Morgan, and the other residents of Bethlehem Springs as much as I have and that you will look forward, along with me, to returning to this small Idaho town again. In In A Vote of Confidence, A Vote of Confidence, Gwen becomes the mayor of Bethlehem Springs in 1915. The first woman mayor in America was, in fact, elected in Idaho, but the year was 1918, three years after my story. The woman's name was Laura Starcher, and she served as mayor of Parma, Idaho. Gwen becomes the mayor of Bethlehem Springs in 1915. The first woman mayor in America was, in fact, elected in Idaho, but the year was 1918, three years after my story. The woman's name was Laura Starcher, and she served as mayor of Parma, Idaho.
Here are two more facts that might interest you: In 1896, the woman's suffrage amendment to the Idaho Const.i.tution was adopted, giving Idaho women the right to vote. Two women ran for the office of president of the United States well before my fictional character ran for mayor. Victoria Woodhull ran for the presidency in 1872 and Belva Lockwood in 1884, and again in 1888. Neither was permitted under the law to vote, but nothing in the law prevented them from running for office. Ironic, isn't it?
As I write this note to my readers, I am busy telling Cleo's story (Who says a woman can't be a wrangler?). Wait until you see who wins her heart! Look for Fit To Be Tied Fit To Be Tied in late 2009. in late 2009.
I invite you to drop by my website ( www.robinleehatcher.com) and my Write Thinking blog (robinlee.typepad.com) for the latest information available about me and my books.
Until the next time, "May the LORD keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other" (Genesis 31:49 keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other" (Genesis 31:49 TNIV TNIV).
In the grip of His grace, Robin Lee Hatcher
AN EXCERPT FROM.
FIT TO BE TIED.
BY ROBIN LEE HATCHER.
Cleopatra Arlington studied the horses in the corral. This bunch of mustangs had been captured off the range in the southwest corner of the state. Wild didn't begin to describe the look in their eyes. They were wary, some scared, a few mean, and none of them wanted to be where they were now - walled in by fences.
"But I reckon we'll make saddle horses out of you yet."
Cleo wasn't known as the best wrangler within two hundred miles for nothing. She'd learned a thing or two about horses over the years. For that matter, she knew a thing or two about many wild things, having a tendency to be a bit wild herself - at least according to how society viewed her. She wasn't exactly your everyday, ordinary female of twenty-nine years.
The sound of an approaching automobile drew her around. Was it - ? It couldn't be. Yes, it was. Her sister, Gwen, and brother-in-law, Morgan McKinley, must have returned to Bethlehem Springs a day early.
She whipped off her battered Stetson as she strode toward the house, grinning her welcome, arriving at the porch steps about a minute before the Ford touring car rolled to a stop and the engine went silent.
"Well, look at you!" Cleo said when her sister disembarked from the automobile. "Those are big-city duds if ever I've seen any."
Gwen turned around, displaying the dark mauve dress and matching hat to their full advantage.
"I take it that means you did lots of shopping while in New York City." Cleo walked over and gave Gwen a warm embrace. "We've missed you around here."
"I've missed you too. Oh, Cleo. I wish you had come with us. We had the best time."
"I don't imagine Morgan feels the same, the two of you married only eight months. You didn't need a third party tagging along. You already had Mother for half of it."
A rosy hue flooded Gwen's cheeks as her gaze shifted to her husband. The love in her eyes both delighted and saddened Cleo. Delighted because she was glad to see her fraternal twin so happy. Saddened because she was beginning to doubt she would ever find the same kind of happiness. Last summer she'd fallen hard for a cowboy named Tyler King and had thought he was falling for her too, but he hadn't turned out to be the man she'd thought.
"Is Griff around?" Morgan asked after giving Cleo a hug.
"Yeah." She tipped her head toward the house. "Dad's inside, going through his ledgers. You know how he likes to have the accounts balanced right down to the last penny."
Morgan glanced at his wife. "I'll go in to talk to him while you two catch up."
Gwen nodded, then hooked arms with Cleo. "Let's sit on the porch. It's too beautiful a day to go inside."
Once they were seated, Cleo asked, "How was Mother when you left her?"
Her sister gave a slight shrug. "Mother's always been the same."
That was Gwen's polite way of saying their mother thought of herself first and others second.
"She stayed in Bethlehem Springs so long, I started to believe she might stay for good. I think Dad was hoping she would too."
"But if she'd stayed, Cleo, if she'd come to live with him as his wife after so many years apart, would she have made him happy? I don't think so. Not until she lets G.o.d change her heart."
"I reckon so."
Gwen leaned forward on her chair. "But I think she will come for another visit next November or December."
"Really? Why's that?"
Gwen smiled and lowered her voice to a whisper. "She'll want to see her first grandchild."
Cleo opened her mouth to exclaim, but Gwen silenced her with an index finger to the lips and a shake of her head.
"Not a word, Cleo. I'm not sure yet. I haven't even told Morgan, and I shouldn't have told you before him."
"Land o' Goshen!" Cleo said softly, her voice quivering with excitement. "How am I to keep such a secret, Gwennie? I'll like to burst wide open with the news."
"I don't know how, but please do."
Cleo glanced toward the door, then back at her sister. "What will you do if you're pregnant? About your duties as mayor, I mean. Is there going to be another special election?"