Blue Moon Promise

  ACCLAIM FOR COLLEEN COBLE

  “Colleen is a master storyteller.”

  —KAREN KINGSBURY, BEST-SELLING AUTHOR OF UNLOCKED AND LEARNING

  “Suspense, action, mystery, spiritual victory—Colleen Coble has woven them all into a compelling novel that will keep you flipping pages until the very end. I highly recommend Without a Trace.”

  —JAMES SCOTT BELL, AUTHOR OF DEADLOCK AND A HIGHER JUSTICE

  “Coble’s books have it all, romance, sass, suspense, action. I’m content to read a book that has any one of those but to find an author like Coble who does all four so well is my definition of bliss.”

  —MARY CONNEALY, AUTHOR OF DOCTOR IN PETTICOATS

  “Coble captivates readers with her compelling characters. Action-packed . . . highly recommended!”

  —DIANNE BURNETT, CHRISTIANBOOK.COM

  “[The Lightkeeper’s Ball ] has romance, mystery, secrets and a bad guy. Coble wows the reader with a fresh storyline. Readers will enjoy peeling back the layers and discovering this is more than your average romance book. The characters are strong not only in themselves but also in their faith.”

  —ROMANTIC TIMES, 4 STARS

  “Coble’s historical series (The Lightkeeper’s Daughter; The Lightkeeper’s Bride) just keeps getting better with each entry. Coble has a strong feel for the time period (in this case, 1910) and has scripted believable characters in suspenseful situations.”

  —LIBRARY JOURNAL, STARRED REVIEW

  ALSO BY COLLEEN COBLE

  A novella included in Smitten

  THE LONESTAR NOVELS

  Lonestar Sanctuary

  Lonestar Secrets

  Lonestar Homecoming

  Lonestar Angel

  THE MERCY FALLS SERIES

  The Lightkeeper’s Daughter

  The Lightkeeper’s Bride

  The Lightkeeper’s Ball

  THE ROCK HARBOR SERIES

  Without a Trace

  Beyond a Doubt

  Into the Deep

  Cry in the Night

  THE ALOHA REEF SERIES

  Distant Echoes

  Black Sands

  Dangerous Depths

  Alaska Twilight

  Fire Dancer

  Midnight Sea

  Abomination

  Anathema

  BLUE MOON

  PROMISE

  UNDER TEXAS STARS

  COLLEEN

  COBLE

  © 2012 by Colleen Coble

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

  Thomas Nelson, Inc., titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Coble, Colleen.

  Blue moon promise / by Colleen Coble.

  p. cm. — (Under Texas stars ; 1)

  Previous title: The cattle baron’s bride

  ISBN 978-1-59554-915-0 (trade paper)

  I. Title.

  PS3553.O2285C38 2012

  813'.54—dc23

  2011044565

  Printed in the United States of America

  12 13 14 15 16 17 QG 6 5 4 3 2 1

  DEAR READER,

  I’m excited to share Blue Moon Promise with you. It is a very personal book to me, and I hope you love Lucy because you’re seeing a bit of me in her. All those control issues she has? Yep, that’s me. I’m a fixer and I mother my loved ones within an inch of their lives.

  I came face-to-face with my serious defect this year. My dear Dave was diagnosed with an aggressive prostate cancer. I found myself vacillating between putting it in God’s hands and then jerking it back and wanting to fix it myself. So poor Lucy had to suffer through her own issues with lack of control until she came to the same place I did—where she realized how futile all that effort was. God is in control.

  I recently came across Proverbs 16:9 again and saw it with new eyes. “A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.” I realized that no matter how much I might think I know the path I should take, only God knows the best journey for me. All I have to do is let go and trust him.

  I think many of us are like Lucy. We say we trust God and are content to rest with what he has for us, but when the hard times come, we try to rely on our own strength way too often. God wants to carry our burdens for us. He wants us to trust him with our future. I’ve resolved to try to do a better job with that. How about you?

  As always, I love to hear from you! E-mail me anytime at [email protected]. Let me know how you liked Blue Moon Promise. I pray you can take away a little insight into learning to trust God more.

  Your friend,

  Colleen

  P.S. Dave is doing well following his surgery. And although the cancer had moved into the seminal vesicles, his first PSA was 0. So we’re rejoicing!

  For my husband, Dave.

  Your faith and courage under fire have been an

  inspiration to all of us.

  Love you!

  CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ONE

  Lucy Marsh pulled her threadbare coat around her neck and hurried down the snow-clogged street. Glancing behind her, she saw only the snow drifting onto run-down houses. The rapid thump of her pulse began to calm, and she managed to breathe through her tight lungs.

  Maybe it was her imagination. For the past week she’d caught a glimpse of the same man every evening after work, and until today, she told herself he must live in the same general area. But she’d left early today and he had still been there. This time he seemed to watch her. A black coat covered him and he wore a hat pulled low over his face, so only the twitch of his smooth-shaven chin appeared. When she stopped and stared at him, he darted around the corner of the building.

  She took the opportunity and dashed across the street, skirting the horse and carriage blocking her path to the house. The roof leaked and wind blew through the boards and under the windowsills, but it had been home for ten years. Glancing behind her again, she saw no sign of the man so she hurried up the steps.

  Pressing her hand to her stomach, she paused and wi
shed she didn’t have to go inside. What was she going to do now? Mrs. Hanson had been apologetic about letting her go. It was hard times and not her work that necessitated firing her. But the hard facts didn’t feed them. While 1877 had been a bad year so far, Indiana had been particularly hard hit.

  But she would find a way. She always managed.

  The steps to the porch took careful navigation. They tilted to the front, and it was easy to lose her balance. She paused outside the door. The children would worry, so she tried on a smile. When it stayed in place, she turned the doorknob. Before she could open the door, Amos Cramer’s gruff voice stopped her.

  “One moment, Miss Marsh,” he panted, hurrying up the steps toward her. He was a large, red-faced man with sparse gray hair and a handlebar mustache. He parked himself in front of her door and wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

  She had tried to be kind to their landlord until Mr. Cramer mistook her kindness for romantic interest. Now she just tried to stay out of his way when he came to collect the rent. Her back against the door, Lucy pressed away as far as she could to escape the strong odor of stale perspiration that drifted toward her.

  He crowded closer. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.” His muddy gaze slid avidly over her face and hair.

  Lucy pressed tighter against the wall, though it gained her no space between the odious man and herself. What now? She didn’t think she could endure more bad news.

  “I’ve decided to sell out and go back to New York. I’ve had an offer I can’t refuse for this place. The new owner plans to tear it down and build a store here.” He hesitated and rubbed his lips with a dirty handkerchief. “I’m afraid I must ask you to leave within the next seven days.”

  Lucy gasped. “A week? How can I find something else in a week?”

  Amos shrugged. “I’m sorry, my dear. You might try that boardinghouse over on Canal Street. They might have an opening.” He pursed his lips and raked her figure with his gaze before turning and waddling away.

  Lucy’s throat grew thick. She couldn’t cry, not now. Tears would frighten the children. Fingering her locket, she straightened her shoulders and pushed open the door.

  Her three-year-old sister launched herself against Lucy’s legs. “Lucy, you was late.” Eileen stuck out her lower lip. “We has company.”

  Lucy looked toward the single chair in the tiny parlor. A man with gray hair and penetrating charcoal eyes sat regarding her calmly before he stood. There was something forbidding in his face, and she inhaled. Please, God, have mercy. Her gaze sought and found her brother, Jed. Twelve years old, he’d been a handful all year. His hangdog expression did nothing to calm her fears.

  “Jed?”

  His gaze remained on his worn shoes. “Uh, Lucy, this is—”

  “I’ll introduce myself,” the gentleman interrupted. He stepped toward her and stared into her eyes. “Henry Stanton of Larson, Texas.” He shifted his gray Stetson in his hands. “Your father was my boyhood friend. I came as soon as I heard of his death.”

  Henry Stanton. Lucy struggled to remember if her father had ever mentioned him. She knew her parents had grown up in Texas. Her Uncle Drew was still there. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mr. Stanton. How did you hear of our father’s death?”

  “His wife wrote me asking for help, so I decided to make a stop here on my way back from Chicago. Is she here?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Catherine left right after Father died.”

  The man frowned. “Left? I don’t understand.”

  She didn’t like to speak ill of anyone, but he had to know why Catherine wasn’t here. “Her, uh, friend showed up and she left with him.”

  “She abandoned her children?” His voice rose.

  Lucy looked to where Eileen was playing with her doll. The child didn’t seem to be paying attention. “I cared for them anyway,” she whispered. “Catherine wasn’t good with children.”

  “I see.” He pointed his hat at Jed. “Your brother is in a heap of trouble, miss. He lifted my wallet when I talked with him on the porch.”

  Stealing? She stared at her brother and the guilt washed over his face. “Jed, how could you?” It was too much. She sank onto the edge of the bed and buried her burning eyes in her hands. Her shoulders heaved as she tried to get her emotions under control. The events of the past few weeks had drained her. When she raised her head, she found Henry with a speculative look on his face.

  “Please don’t distress yourself, Miss Lucy. Young Jed’s behavior will be corrected on the ranch.”

  “On the ranch?”

  “Tell me, Miss Marsh, are you a Christian woman?”

  Standing again, she straightened her shoulders and exhaled. “Why, yes, sir, I am.”

  “I thought as much. God has led me here for a purpose.” He smiled. “I have a proposition for you.”

  Her pulse quickened. Perhaps there would be a way out of these dreadful circumstances yet. “What would that be, Mr. Stanton?”

  “Have you read in the Bible how Abraham sent a servant out to find a wife for Isaac?”

  “Of course.” Lucy’s heart sank before beginning a rapid beat against her chest. Surely he wasn’t offering for her hand. He was old. Older than her father.

  “That was my main purpose for this trip, though my son has no idea of my mission. Now that I’ve met you, I believe you will do nicely. Nate needs a wife like you.”

  His son. Lucy’s limbs went weak. The room spun, and she sat back on the edge of the bed.

  “I can see I’ve shocked you.”

  Lucy eyed the man. “Is—is your son a Christian?”

  Mr. Stanton smiled. “That just confirms the Lord’s leading me here. As soon as I clapped eyes on you, something reared up inside me and I knew you were the right one for my Nate. Yes, my boy is a Christian.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I have my son’s signature to act as his agent in all business matters for this trip, so if you agree, I will arrange a proxy marriage. Right after the ceremony we’ll leave for Texas. A train leaves at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Why would we not return to your ranch and see if your son and I would suit?”

  “You don’t know my boy. He is apt to send you packing rather than listen to reason.” He shook his head. “No, this is the only way.”

  It felt wrong to surprise this unknown Nate. Lucy held up her hand. “I’d rather know we suit before I pledge my life to a man. And give him a chance to get to know me as well.”

  He thrust out his chin. “This is my offer, Miss Lucy. It’s the only one I’m making.” He nodded at her siblings. “Think of your brother and sister. They will have warm beds and plenty of food to eat. Fresh Texas air and plenty of room to grow up.”

  Her main consideration was the children. While the thought of marrying someone she didn’t know was most unappealing, Lucy had to consider the offer. They were about to be evicted, and she’d lost her job. How could she possibly support the children? “I’d like time to pray about it.”

  “I would expect nothing less from a good Christian woman. I’ll return tomorrow at nine for your answer. If you’re accepting my offer, have all your things packed. There will be no time to spare.” His walking stick thumped on the floor as he walked to the entry.

  When the door closed behind him, Lucy clenched her hands in her lap and turned to her brother. Too angry to speak, she just looked at him.

  Jed swallowed hard and took a step back. “It was a dare, Lucy. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I was just funnin’. I gave it back to him.”

  “A dare? You risked jail for a dare?” She buried her head in her hands. “Lord, help me,” she whispered.

  She lifted her head, opened the locket, and stared at the face of the unsmiling young woman. What would her mother have her do? Lucy squared her shoulders. This wasn’t beyond her capabilities.

  “On your knees, children.” She sank to the floor. “We must pray.”

  LUCY PREPARED THE last of the beef
in a thin stew for her brother and sister. She picked at a piece of dry bread and watched them eat. She’d always risen to the challenge, but tonight all she wanted to do was climb onto her cot and pull the covers over her head. The task appeared overwhelming and she was tired, so tired.

  There was a rap on the front door, and she rose from the table to answer it. A glimpse through the window to the porch made her stomach plunge. Albert, Catherine’s friend, was standing at the door. She wanted to throw the bolt and ignore the summons, but she forced herself to open the door.

  His gaze skewered her. “Miss Lucy. You look lovely today.”

  His smile made her feel unclean. “What do you want?” She peered past his shoulder to the vehicle in the wash of gaslight, but no one was in the buggy that waited in the street.

  He tipped his hat up with a finger. “Your mother sent me by for Eileen. If you’ll just get her things together, we’ll be off.”

  She blocked his entrance with her body. “I have no way of knowing if what you’re saying is true.” She couldn’t turn her little sister over to this man. “I find it odd that you don’t ask for Jed as well.”

  “I’m sure Catherine will want him eventually too, but right now, she wants Eileen.”

  Lucy tensed, her fingers on the door. “Then why is she not here herself to claim her daughter?”

  His smile twisted to a snarl and he stepped toward the doorway, but Lucy slammed the door before he could block it. She threw the lock. “Go away!”

  His shoulder hit the door, and it shuddered. “Open up,” he growled.

  The wood vibrated against her, and she held her breath. Please let it hold. Eileen had left the table and was hiding her face in Lucy’s skirt. Lucy touched the top of her sister’s soft hair. Staring at the lock, she prayed again for it to hold. After a moment, the battering against the door stopped. She wanted to peek out the window, but she was afraid the sight of her face would inflame the man even more.

  Eileen whimpered. “It’s okay,” Lucy said in a soft voice. “I won’t let him near you.”