Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3)
Shirleen Davies
Books by Shirleen Davies
Historical Western Romance Series
MacLarens of Fire Mountain
Tougher than the Rest, Book One
Faster than the Rest, Book Two
Harder than the Rest, Book Three
Stronger than the Rest, Book Four
Deadlier than the Rest, Book Five
Wilder than the Rest, Book Six
Redemption Mountain
Redemption’s Edge, Book One
Wildfire Creek, Book Two
Sunrise Ridge, Book Three
Dixie Moon, Book Four, Releasing late 2015
MacLarens of Boundary Mountain
Colin’s Quest, Book One
Releasing 2015
Contemporary Romance Series
MacLarens of Fire Mountain
Second Summer, Book One
Hard Landing, Book Two
One More Day, Book Three
All Your Nights, Book Four
Always Love You, Book Five
Hearts Don’t Lie, Book Six, Releasing 2015
Kerrigans of Peregrine Bay
Reclaiming Love, Book One, A Novella
Our Kind of Love, Book Two, Releasing 2015
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Sunrise Ridge
Redemption Mountain
Historical Western Romance Series
SHIRLEEN DAVIES
Book Three in the Redemption Mountain
Historical Western Romance Series
Copyright © 2015 by Shirleen Davies
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
For permission requests, contact the publisher.
Avalanche Ranch Press, LLC
PO Box 12618
Prescott, AZ 86304
Sunrise Ridge is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used facetiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.
Book design and conversions by Joseph Murray at 3rdplanetpublishing.com
Cover design by Kim Killion, The Killion Group
ISBN: 978-1-941786-17-8
I care about quality, so if you find something in error, please contact me via email at [email protected].
Description
Sunrise Ridge – Book Three
Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Series
“The author has a talent for bringing the historical west to life, realistically and vividly, and doesn’t shy away from some of the harder aspects of frontier life, even though it’s fiction. Recommended to readers who like sweeping western historical romances that are grounded with memorable, likeable characters and a strong sense of place.”
Noah Brandt is a successful blacksmith and businessman in Splendor, Montana, with few ties to his past as an ex-Union Army major and sharpshooter. Quiet and hardworking, his biggest challenge is controlling his strong desire for a woman he believes is beyond his reach.
Abigail Tolbert is tired of being under her father’s thumb while at the same time, being pushed away by the one man she desires. Determined to build a new life outside the control of her wealthy father, she finds work and sets out to shape a life on her own terms.
Noah has made too many mistakes with Abby to have any hope of getting her back. Even with the changes in her life, including the distance she’s built with her father, he can’t keep himself from believing he’ll never be good enough to claim her.
Unexpected dangers, including a twist of fate for Abby, change both their lives, making the tentative steps they’ve taken to build a relationship a distant hope. As Noah battles his past as well as the threats to Abby, she fights for a future with the only man she will ever love.
Visit my website for a list of characters for each series.
http://www.shirleendavies.com/character-list.html
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all of my friends and family who continue to encourage me and spread the word about my writing. Your support means more to me than you know.
Thanks so much!
Acknowledgements
Thanks also to my editor, Kim Young, proofreader, Alicia Carmical, and all of my beta readers. Your insights and suggestions are greatly appreciated.
As always, many thanks to my wonderful resources, including Diane Lebow, who has been a whiz at guiding my social media endeavors, my cover designer, Kim Killion, and Joseph Murray who is a whiz at formatting my books for both print and electronic versions.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books by Shirleen Davies
Sunrise Ridge
Prologue
Gettysburg, July 1863
Major Noah Brandt peered down the long barrel of his Sharps rifle, sighting his target, adjusting for the wind. As a Union Army sharpshooter, orders to kill a specific threat to the North’s cause had become commonplace. His battlefield promotion to major didn’t excuse him from raising the rifle to his shoulder and carrying out the command.
That morning, he’d received orders to send forward a detachment of one hundred sharpshooters to determine enemy positions. Posting his men on a hill past Emmitsburg Road, it didn’t take long for them to engage a heavy force of Confederate troops.
Noah took a breath, ignoring the smoke already impeding his vision. He sighted down the barrel once more, then squeezed the trigger, watching as the man clutched his chest and toppled from his horse. Another Confederate officer leaving this earth to stand before his maker, and another piece of Noah leaving with him.
Over the course of nearly six hours, Noah sighted again and again, dispatching more Johnny Rebs, including several officers. He walked up and down the line of sharpshooters, encouraging them, and watching as each advancement of southern troops was held at bay…sometimes retreating, occasionally advancing. He estimated for every ten casualties the enemy sustained, the sharpshooters sustained one. He expected nothing less. His troops were the best at what they did, having passed rigorous skill tests to be accepted into Berdan’s First United States Sharpshooters Regiment.
“Major, we’re running low on ammunition. What’s your order?” Captain Norquist came up beside him, crouching low as enemy fire spewed
overhead. Noah had met Tom Norquist within a month of volunteering. They’d followed each other through the ranks, from battle to battle, and became close friends. Noah trusted him implicitly, valuing his instincts on the battlefield.
“How much longer can we sustain the effort?” Noah asked, noticing enemy movement on both flanks.
“Not long. Perhaps ten, fifteen minutes.”
“Call the men back. We’ll report our findings to the commander.” As Noah shouted the last order over the thundering explosions and screaming troops, he saw Tom spin, pull his revolver, and fire toward a group of rebels fighting their way over the hilltop.
Noah dropped to a knee, aimed his rifle and fired, dropping one rebel as he pulled his Remington .44, then killing two more, watching as the remaining troops turned and ran.
“Good work, Tom. If you hadn’t…” Noah’s words died on his lips as he looked to his side, finding Tom prone and bleeding from wounds to his chest and arm. “Tom!” Noah’s anguished cry could be heard over the gunfire as he dropped to the ground, placing his hands over the wound in Tom’s chest, several of his men forming a circle around them, providing cover.
“Major, we must move out. The rebels are advancing and we’re out of ammunition.” One of Noah’s lieutenants kneeled beside them, checking Tom’s pulse and shaking his head. “He’s gone, sir. There’s nothing we can do for him.” His urgent voice pierced the pain Noah felt deep in his gut.
He nodded, then stood, signaling his men to retreat, knowing he needed to report the large number of Confederate forces to his division commander.
“Take the captain’s rifle and lead the men to the encampment, Lieutenant. I’ll follow behind. Do not wait for me.” Noah handed the man his own rifle and knelt down, shoving his arms under Tom’s body and lifting.
“Sir, we can’t leave without—”
“I gave an order and I expect you to carry it out. Understood?” Noah growled as he held Tom close to his chest.
“Yes, sir.” He recognized the stern expression, accepting there’d be no changing the major’s mind.
Noah barely noticed his men move out or the continuing sound of the battle behind him. His expression grim, he concentrated on the man in his arms, his heart aching to a point he found it hard to breathe. It would be up to Noah to write a letter to Tom’s widow, a woman he’d never met, but felt as if he knew. She’d break the news to their young son and somehow find a way to move on. They all had to.
Noah trudged into camp as the sun dropped behind the low ridge to the west. No one disturbed him as he passed men cleaning their weapons, cooks ladling supper to the hungry troops, and the chaos inside the medical tent.
He hesitated outside the makeshift hospital, looked at Tom’s face, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I won’t forget you, my friend.”
A nurse saw the action, touched his arm, and indicated a cot a few feet away. “We’ll take care of him.”
Noah placed him on the cot and glanced at her, his face a mask. “He’s gone.”
“I know, Major.” Her soft words drifted over him as he took one last look and turned away, making his way to his tent and solitude.
Noah lowered himself to his cot, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, burying his face in both hands. He had until the end of the month, then his commitment would be over.
Even his promotion to major a few months before did nothing to change Noah’s mind. He’d come into the Sharpshooters as a volunteer, and he’d made the decision to voluntarily leave. After three years, he’d done his duty, performing beyond his commander’s expectations. But each kill took a piece of his soul.
He was proud of his accomplishments, would have made the decision to volunteer again, but he was through. By the end of July, Major Noah Brandt would transform himself into a private citizen, leaving military life behind and creating a new direction for his life—if he survived until then.
When the day came, all he had to do was change into civilian clothes, fold his uniform, grab his gear, and mount Tempest, the gelding he’d entrusted with his life more than once. If their plans held true, he’d meet his lifelong friend and they’d ride west, away from the battlefields, carnage, and command. He had no idea where he’d end up but, after today, anywhere would be better than here.
Chapter One
Splendor, Montana 1867
“Damn it, Noah. You’ve got to find a way to pull yourself out of this hole you’re in and figure out what you want.” Gabe Evans, the sheriff in Splendor and Noah’s closest friend, watched him stand by the forge, sweat thick on his face and arms, heating the metal until he’d be able to pound it into another useful tool.
Noah ignored him, turning the metal, trying not to think of the events of the past week. He felt the burning sensation from the moisture dripping into his eyes, but he didn’t care. Nor did the scorching heat of the forge irritate or slow him down. Instead, the pain served as motivation to work harder, push the loss from his mind.
Gabe placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, following Noah as he set the burning metal on the anvil, picked up a hammer, and began to pound.
“You can’t ignore what happened forever.”
Noah stood and squared his shoulders, glaring at the man he’d known since they were both shorter than the height of his workbench. “Why?”
“Because it will eat you up inside.” Gabe’s voice took on a hard edge. "And because she’ll be back someday and you’ll have to face her.”
Noah glanced outside, seeing the sun peek through the darkening clouds, and wiped an arm across his brow. He swallowed the lump lodged at the back of his throat. “She’ll belong to someone by then.”
“If you believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Gabe grabbed a ladle, dipped it into the water trough, and poured the contents over his head and neck, shaking his head from side-to-side. “For whatever reason, the woman sees you as quite the prize—one she’s determined to win. There’s still time to go after her.”
Noah spun toward Gabe, tossing the hammer aside. “For what? To live with me in a cabin not as big as her father’s study? Do you believe for one minute I’d want her to live that way?”
“How do you know she doesn’t want to live that way? Did you ever take her to see the cabin, talk to her about your plans?”
He held his arms out, palms up. “Don’t you see? I have nothing to offer her. Look around, Gabe. I’m a blacksmith—”
“With a growing store and more business than you can handle. People wait weeks for your work.” He leaned against a nearby post, crossing his arms. “And I happen to know you have a sizeable sum put aside in the local bank.”
“Sizeable by whose standards?” Noah snorted.
“Most anyone in this town. Other than Tolbert or the Pelletiers, there are just a handful of successful businessmen, and you’re one of them.”
“I’m a smithy, not a businessman,” Noah grumbled, wiping his hands down his apron. “Besides, Tolbert could’ve sent her anywhere, even though he mentioned Philadelphia.”
“It is Philadelphia.”
Noah paused, turning a dark look at Gabe. “How do you know that?”
“I sent a telegram to Sheriff Sterling in Big Pine. Tolbert rode that far with Abby, then sent her on to Philadelphia with an escort to live with some distant relation.” He pushed away from the post, eyeing Noah. “It wouldn’t be hard to find out where she’s living. I’m heading to the boardinghouse for some grub.” Gabe took a few steps, then turned back. “Think about what I said.”
Noah stared at his retreating back and slumped onto a bench, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. He looked at his dirt-encrusted hands, turning them over to finger the calluses. His arms were marked with burns from the forge and the sparks that flew when he hammered the hot metal. He scrubbed his hands over his stubbled face and stood, walking to a small back room where he kept his necessities for when he had no time to ride to his cabin. The small mirror he’d ha
d since the war lay on a shelf. Picking it up, he studied his face, noting the lines around his mouth and eyes had grown deeper, more pronounced since he’d arrived in Splendor.
No, he was nobody’s prize, especially Abby’s. His dark blonde hair was still thick, and although Suzanne Briar, owner of the local boardinghouse, trimmed it on occasion in trade for a new pot for her restaurant, he still kept it shaggy. He’d slicked it back for Luke Pelletier’s marriage to Ginny Sorensen the week before, slipping into his one suit and polished boots. The thought of the wedding and the reception following had him resting on a nearby chair, closing his eyes, wishing he could have that day back.
Luke and Ginny’s reception…
The wedding had been beautiful, and Ginny was nothing short of stunning. The Pelletiers knew how to throw a shindig and the reception proved it. He’d stayed in town instead of riding to his cabin, closing his mining supply and tack store so his young helper, Toby, could attend.
He’d hoped to see Abigail Tolbert, the woman he’d been in love with since the first time he spotted her getting out of her father’s buggy. Her father, King Tolbert, owned the largest cattle spread in the area, plus more land and businesses in the territorial capital of Big Pine, which was a good day’s ride from Splendor. There was little love lost between Tolbert and most of the townspeople, yet few would slight him by withholding an invitation to a wedding, especially when it involved another prominent ranching family, the Pelletiers.
His gaze had caught hers the moment they entered the church. Tolbert escorted her to seats near the front, taking what he felt was his rightful place where all could see him. Abby tried to hide it, but Noah noticed each glance over her shoulder toward him and returned her smile, seeing her blush in return. He’d sought her out at the reception, glad for a few moments alone in conversation before a group of women pulled her away.
An hour into the festivities, she walked straight toward him, laced an arm through his, and pulled him with her, asking if he’d ever had a tour of the church. He’d told her no, not imagining there was much more to see than the main chapel. To his surprise, the building included a kitchen, two small offices, and a storage room in the back. She drew him into the pastor’s office, letting the door close behind them.
