By Honor Bound (Guardians of the North Book #1)

Alan Morris

Description

Those Who Brave the Challenges of Taming the Rugged Canadian FrontierHunter Stone and his wife, Betsy, dreamed of raising their family on the Canadian frontier, and that dream had brought them west. But their hope of a promising future is suddenly shattered when Red Wolf, a Crow Indian on the warpath, burns Stone's homestead and kidnaps Betsy while Stone is away at the trading post purchasing supplies.Suspecting the perpetrator of this villainous deed is the same renegade responsible for burning his neighbor's ranch, Stone is driven by rage as he rides out to rescue his wife. His encounter with Red Wolf and his warriors ends in defeat and leaves him with a blinding wrath and an obsession for revenge.Reena O'Donnell, a young missionary to the Canadian Assiniboine Indians, finds Hunter, who is wounded and barely alive, and nurses him back to health. Though his body has healed, the deep scars of anger and lust for vengeance nearly destroy him. Will joining the North-West Mounted Police help him leave the past behind?Can Reena's faith and prayers make a difference in the life of Hunter, who has lost everything?

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 mai 1996
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441263018
• Langue: English

Extrait

Guardians of the North Book One
By Honor Bound
Alan Morris
Copyright © 1996 by Alan Morris
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 2012
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 for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6301-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Cover illustration by Joe Nordstrom
The internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication. They are provided as a resource. Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or permanence.
G UARDIANS OF THE N ORTH
By Honor Bound
Heart of Valor
Bright Sword of Justice
Between Earth and Sky
Wings of Healing
Dedication
To my father
Though the very soul of generosity
’tis prize enough to be his son
Acknowledgments
After plotting this novel, I confidently walked into my local library with a book bag, ready to relieve the place of a dozen or so books on Canadian history. The supplies would be endless; after all, our “Neighbors to the North” share our continent, and throughout our short history they have been our loyal allies and best friends in the world. I thought arrogantly and magnanimously, “They can even call themselves the ‘Northern United States’ if they want to, which they surely do. We speak the same thoughts and share the same culture anyway. Right?”
For someone who considers himself a history buff, this was shameful naiveté, and for that I apologize to the proud people of Canada. Yours is a history rich with chronicles of sacrifice and bravery, and I am proud to live in a country that is your ally.
Imagine my surprise when I found no books available. Not one. I tried three more libraries and was disappointed three more times. I did find many photographs of the country available, but this was due to the simple reason that Canada is one of the most scenically beautiful nations on the planet.
I did find help, however, in the form of four people.
Loren MccRory and her mother, Lola M. Beck, were extremely patient with my greedy borrowing.
Dan Torgunrud of the Cypress Hills Provincial Park graciously took the time to send rare information to a complete stranger and harried author.
And to Sergeant A. (Tony) Brezinski, Rtd. R.C.M.P., who gave me invaluable materials that proved instrumental in the writing of not only this book, but also future ones, I extend my most heartfelt gratitude.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Guardians of the North
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Part One: The Gauntlet
1. Games
2. A Powerful Message
3. Spring Ball
4. Dreams of Macedonia
5. Journey
Part Two: Fierce Extremes
6. Rain and Fire
7. Red Wolf
8. Discovery
9. Death
10. Casualties
Part Three: After-silence on the Shore
11. Invitation From a Stranger
12. Prayers for the Heart
13. Luminosity
14. Restless Spirits
15. On the Edge
16. Paths of Truth
Part Four: Taming the Rude Savage
17. Recruits
18. Badge of Valor
19. March West
20. A Matter of Thievery
21. Power and Beauty
22. Reunions
23. Insubordination
24. Reckoning
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
Back Cover
Prologue
T O : HONOR COURT NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE
F ROM : JAYE ELIOT VICKERSHAM SUB-INSPECTOR “C” Division NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE
September 10, 1874
Sirs:
I wear the scarlet.
At this moment, so does my friend and fellow officer Hunter Stone. You are here to judge whether or not he shall continue to wear it. I am here to tell you why he should. Indeed, if this distinguished and honorable police force finds that he is unworthy to lead its men in the stamping out of injustice, corruption, and deviousness, then I, too, am unworthy.
I am from England, from which sprung the lore and glory of knights. Courageous men who would offer the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of God, king, and, most of all, truth and justice. I was breast-fed the tales of honor, nobility, and morality. I dreamed of these men always they were faceless strength wrapped in armor, astride a milky white charger running at full stride to right a wrong. These extraordinary men were dead long before I was born. But I am here today, before this court, to proclaim that I have found a knight in our present day. He is in your great country, Canada. He is, gentlemen, sitting directly in front of you, awaiting your judgment. His name is Sir Hunter Stone.
You have heard through the testimony of witnesses the events of September 7, 1874. By the grace of Commissioner French and Assistant Commissioner Macleod, I have been granted the opportunity to humbly inform this court that a fair and impartial judgment cannot be ascertained without knowledge of prior issues. These issues directly affected Sub-Inspector Stone’s actions on that day, and I fully believe that this honor court could not be satisfied with its findings without all of the evidence presented….
Part One
APRIL JUNE 1872


The Gauntlet
Chapter One
Games
The crack of wood on wood split the air, followed by a girlish squeal that rolled over the expanse of freshly cut grass.
“I did it! I did it! I made it through the little hoop!” Sally Ames cried. She bobbed up and down excitedly, her curly, honey-blond hair shimmering in the sun. “How many feet was that, Reena?”
“Oh, I’d say about four,” Reena O’Donnell answered with exaggerated disinterest. “And it’s called a wicket.”
“Four? It had to be farther than that!” Sally’s whole body sagged, and the head of the croquet mallet she was holding touched the ground.
Reena rolled her bright blue eyes but smiled with affection. Sally was twenty-one years old, but her sense of measurement was as poor as a child’s. To Reena’s never-ending amusement, Sally played the lawn game with the same innocent enthusiasm as a child, too.
Despite the crystal clear April day in Chicago, Reena shivered. She wore a lace-trimmed white dress with straight sleeves that ended in turned-back cuffs. A light jacketed bodice made of silk with a long basque formed an overskirt. From inside her bedroom the weather had looked warm and inviting, but the constant wind blowing in from Lake Michigan magnified every particle of cool air, raising goose bumps on her arms. She waved at Hiram, the stable boy, as he headed toward the corral. Even Hiram had the sense to wear a jacket today , she thought. The stable was only about sixty feet from the start of the croquet lawn, but thankfully upwind.
“What does … enn … enn … ‘ennuyees’ mean?” asked Charlotte Thibodeaux, her violet eyes momentarily baffled. She and Reena’s sister, Megan, were sitting a few feet away on an iron bench with ivy embroidery.
“It means you should stop trying to read Walt Whitman,” said Megan O’Donnell, bored out of her mind. She shifted her well-formed figure uncomfortably on the hard bench they occupied, mentally cursing the huge bustle on her blue dress. Two years separated Megan and Reena, Megan being the oldest at twenty-two, but there was little evidence that they were sisters. Megan had light brown hair, while Reena’s was so black it sometimes appeared blue. Reena’s slender, well-toned body held an easy grace that belied her claims of awkwardness. Megan was four inches shorter than Reena’s height of five feet eight inches, and truly clumsy. The trait differences were many, with both girls wishing for qualities the other possessed.
Offended by Megan’s remark, Charlotte retorted icily, “We don’t all attend Mrs. Bright’s College of Genteel Young Ladies and know everything like you do, Megan. You probably don’t even know what it means.”
“Only Mr. Whitman knows for sure, because it’s not a word. But I think it’s a play on the word ‘ennui,’ which means listless or dull.” Megan again tried to adjust her bustle to a more comfortable position. By the time she was through, she was practically sitting on it. She didn’t see Charlotte make a face at her, but she heard Sally and Reena giggle. Mistaking their amusement for her struggle with her dress, she said, “I hate these things. Why do we have to wear them?”
“Would you rather wear a hoop skirt as big as a barn and knock everything over that you pass by?” Reena asked.
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in a hoop skirt!” Sally announced. “ Nobody wears those anymore.”
“They do in Louisiana,” retorted Charlotte, getting back to her reading. Her Southern accent rang clear as she rolled the state’s name off of her tongue in lazy, syrupy syllables.
Reena saw that Megan nearly shivered from the sound of it. Charlotte was visiting Sally for the month, and this was the first time Megan and Reena had been around a deep South cadence. Reena thought it quaint and fascinating; Megan tried to keep from cringing every time Charlotte opened her mouth.
“I hear some of you people still have slaves,” Megan commented innocently.
“Megan!” Reena blurted, horrified.
“It’s all right, Reena,” Charlotte said and turned to Megan with a tight mouth. “Slavery is against the law, or didn’t you learn that in your school? Unfortunately, ignorance isn’t, and there are still a few people around who think like that.” She turned back to her book, facing away from Megan.
Hurrah, Charlotte! Reena mentally applauded. Few girls could trade barbs with Megan and come out on top. Instead of lashing out as Reena thought she would, Megan withdrew her claws and gave Reena a look that conceded a draw for now.
Sally, ever the peace-keeper, changed the subject. “Are you staying long enough for the