Heart of Valor (Guardians of the North Book #2)

Alan Morris

Description

Together they fight a dangerous enemy. Can their hearts of valor prevail?Hunter Stone and the North-West Mounted Police are faced with establishing themselves as the law on the rugged Canadian frontier. They discover that an evil trader, Armand Sweet, has been smuggling shipments of whisky into the North-West Territories, and Sweet becomes the focus of the Mounties' relentless search.Reena O'Donnell has continued her work as a young missionary among an Indian tribe of the Blackfoot Nation. But she finds that she must deal with the ongoing breakdowns of tribal customs due largely due to the whiskey influence, and she must try to bring a renegade young man, Drew Eagle, under control before violence erupts.Together she and Hunter fight against their common enemy, the dangerous whisky trade. When Armand Sweet eventually is arrested and the true source of the illegal shipments is revealed, the shocking evidence points to someone they know. Hunter and Reena come into a direct confrontation with the heart of evil and are led down a dark trail of high suspense.A declaration of love is made. But is he truly ready for what lies ahead?

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 1996
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441263025
• Langue: English

Extrait

Guardians of the North Book Two
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 978-1-4412-6302-5
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
To my mother
Strength and honor are her clothing.
She openeth her mouth in wisdom,
and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.
I arise up, and call you blessed.
The Proverbs of Solomon
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Guardians of the North
Dedication
Part One: Sour Sweet Music
1. Hissing Snow
2. Dew Eagle
3. Border Line
4. Macleod: The Man and the Fort
5. The Sweets
Part Two: A Violent Torrent
6. The Sick and Wounded
7. Capture
8. Travel Plans
9. Love Rejoiceth in the Truth
10. A Tainted Morning
Part Three: Of Youth and Vows
11. Let Loose the Tears
12. Sisters and Adversaries
13. A Dry and Thirsty Land
14. The Black-and-Blue Lady
15. Turquoise Joy
16. The Pioneers of a Glorious Future
Part Four: Till Judgment Break
17. A Limited Partnership
18. Becker’s Detour
19. A Light in the Darkness
20. Fear and Bondage
21. An Absence of Darkness
About the Author
Back Cover
Part One
Sour Sweet Music
Chapter One
Hissing Snow
1875
The ill-kempt man who opened the cabin door balanced a bald-headed baby on one arm and a shotgun in the other.
With sickening clarity, Del Dekko stared into the huge black hole at the end of the barrel he found pointed directly between his bulging brown eyes. He moaned inwardly and somehow stifled the urgent desire to duck out of the way.
Dekko had deliberately positioned himself between Sub-Inspectors Hunter Stone and Jaye Eliot Vickersham as they’d walked to the door through the deep snow, hoping to avoid this very thing. During that walk, he’d cackled himself into a rare good mood, picturing the three of them in his mind: two tall, handsome, scarlet-jacketed Mounties on either side of a short grizzled scout who hadn’t had a bath in a week. From another viewpoint, Dekko had imagined that they looked like some sort of sandwich that had gone wrong in the making. Two rich, fragrant slices of bread on either side of a less-than-savory interior. Say, a fish head sandwich. The thought struck Dekko as extremely funny.
The shotgun aimed in his direction blew away his brief good mood as surely as if its owner had pulled the trigger.
“Good morning, sir,” Vickersham greeted heartily from Dekko’s right, as though the settler had just invited them in for tea. Standing an even six feet tall, Vickersham was thin but wiry. Beneath short brown hair, his face was narrow and open, with thin lips and an angular jaw. His unfailing politeness and ever pleasant expression made him seem more handsome than he was.
To Dekko’s relief, the shotgun moved to a spot between him and Vickersham. But just as his humor had been short-lived, so was his ease. The barrel began moving in a disturbing side-to-side motion from Vickersham to Stone, which meant Dekko was never really out of the line of fire. He watched it, half hypnotized.
“What do you want?” the settler asked in a surprisingly high voice. Behind him rose the chaotic din of many children at play. The aroma of roasted chicken sporadically touched the air, while the warmth from the cabin fought with the cold outside.
“North-West Mounted Police, sir,” Hunter Stone spoke up for the first time. His deep baritone contrasted sharply with the settler’s whine. Well over six feet with a well-proportioned frame, Stone had sandy-blond hair and ice-gray eyes. His face was more square than oval, with a strong cleft chin and determined jaw, leaving him with the presence of being both handsome and authoritative.
From the corner of Stone’s eye, he saw Dekko’s head moving from side to side, following the shotgun’s path, and Stone hoped he didn’t make a sudden move. Stone sensed that Del was ready to bolt. “We’re here to ”
“How do I know you’re Mounties?”
Stone and Vickersham glanced at each other in puzzlement.
“Well,” Vickersham said, “we’re wearing the uniform….” He trailed off, as if that explained everything.
“Don’t mean anything. Anyone can wear a uniform.”
A brief, shocked pause ensued.
“Why, that’s preposterous !” Vickersham argued in his clipped British accent. Indignation soaking his tone, he sniffed, “ No man may wear the scarlet unless he’s a member of the Mounted!”
“Step back,” the settler ordered.
Stone said, “Sir, if you’ll just let us ”
“I said, step back!” The shotgun’s aim came to rest on Stone’s chest.
Dekko was the first to retreat. He began stepping backward all the way to where they’d tied the horses.
Stone and Vickersham each moved back three paces until they were out from under the narrow porch roof and standing in the bright sunshine. Neither of them turned to watch Dekko make his clumsy exit.
The settler moved outside and closed the door. Once the latch caught, the door was opened again by a girl of about fifteen. “Pa?”
“Get back inside and bolt the door! Now!”
The girl’s moon face disappeared instantly. The settler whirled back to face Stone and Vickersham. His watery eyes followed Dekko, and waving the shotgun in that direction, he asked, “Where’s he going?”
“He’s sort of skittish around guns,” Stone informed him mildly. “Especially when they’re pointed at him. Would you mind…?”
The settler grinned for the first time, revealing greenish teeth. “I’d heard you Mounties weren’t afraid of nothing.”
“Actually, I was thinking about the baby. I don’t think it’s a good idea to combine guns and infants, do you?” Stone’s gray, almost colorless eyes moved to the baby, who looked to be about a year old. The child was staring back at Stone’s chest in fascination. Stone suddenly realized that the brilliant sunlight reflecting off of his scarlet coat and the snow behind him was just too rich a sight for a baby to ignore.
The settler looked at the child, and for a moment all three men were staring at him. The baby didn’t notice his sudden popularity. A tiny finger was jammed solidly in his mouth, and a pendulum of drool swung from his chin. The man lowered the gun until it was pointed at the ground and then brought his attention back to the Mounties. “All right. But tell that fella behind you to stop. He’s making me nervous.”
Vickersham turned and called, “Del! Hold right there.”
Dekko stopped instantly with one foot raised and cocked behind him.
Vickersham watched him for a moment, then said, “You can put your foot down, Del. Just don’t go any farther. There’s a good chap.”
Dekko put his foot down.
The settler considered him briefly, then observed slightly in wonder, “He looks like a scarecrow out there.”
Stone glanced back at Dekko. Fifty feet away in a world of pure white, Del stood absolutely still, dressed in his worn, knee-length brown boots, gray pants with a hole in the thigh, and dirty bearskin coat. He did, indeed, look like a scarecrow, but somehow infinitely more pitiful. In the midst of a barren landscape, Dekko’s lack of farm crops to guard left him appearing as an unemployed scarecrow. Stone shook his head at the sight and turned back to the settler. “We only wanted a bit of your time, sir. We’ve been assigned to take a census in the area, and we need to ask you a few questions.”
“A census, huh? What’d you boys do to deserve that?”
“I beg your pardon, Mr…?” Vickersham asked.
“Sikes. Jim Sikes.”
Vickersham, who’d been holding a leather-bound notebook the whole time, tucked it under his arm and removed the spotless white glove on his left hand. Opening the book and taking pen in hand, he began writing and asked, “What do you mean ‘deserve,’ Mr. Sikes?”
“Well, think about it. You’re out in the middle of nowhere in the blue-lipped cold asking people questions! I mean, if this is choice work, what do they do to you boys for punishment ?” Sikes let loose a barking laugh that grated on the Mounties’ ears.
Stone chose to ignore him. “How long have you been out here, Mr. Sikes?”
Waving the shotgun at the stark, skeletal outline of an unfinished addition beside the house, Sikes answered, “About a year. As you can see, I’ve got bigger dreams than this one-room cabin.”
“And how many in your house?” Vickersham asked, writing in his notebook.
His forehead wrinkling in a scowl, Sikes’ suddenly pleasant demeanor vanished. “How many? Uh…how many…let’s see. There’s Adam, Abigail, Aaron, Amy…uh…no, wait a minute. There’s Adam, Aaron, Abigail, Afton , then Amy and…no, no, no, that’s not right, either.”
Stone looked at Vickersham, who had stopped writing until Sikes made up his mind.
Sikes counted to himself while gazing at the cloudless blue sky, his fingers working as he mentally counted children.
To Stone’s amazement, Sikes went through all the fingers holding the shotgun, then all the fingers holding the baby, then started all over again.
“Seventeen,” Sikes declared confidently. “No, wait” he looked at the baby in his arm “eighteen, c