Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for ChristmasHer Montana ChristmasAn Amish Christmas JourneyYuletide Baby

by Brenda Minton

  So had learned the pastor’s wife with her first—but not by any means her last—Montana Christmas.

  *

  If you liked this BIG SKY CENTENNIAL novel,

  make sure you read the entire miniseries:

  Book #1: HER MONTANA COWBOY

  by Valerie Hansen

  Book #2: HIS MONTANA SWEETHEART

  by Ruth Logan Herne

  Book #3: HER MONTANA TWINS

  by Carolyne Aarsen

  Book #4: HIS MONTANA BRIDE

  by Brenda Minton

  Book #5: HIS MONTANA HOMECOMING

  by Jenna Mindel

  Book #6: HER MONTANA CHRISTMAS

  by Arlene James

  Dear Reader,

  While it’s true that not all secrets are equal, secrets can be poison. They can destroy friendships, marriages, families, entire communities, even governments. Even well-meaning, well-reasoned secrets can become heavy burdens and require substantial “upkeep.” What was simply meant to go unsaid may soon have to be covered up, and that means obscuring the truth or telling a lie. One lie begets another and another and… You get the picture.

  For a Christian, keeping a secret long-term can have the same effect as an infection in the bloodstream. The longer that secret is there, the worse the “host” feels.

  That’s what Robin and Ethan each learn as they find their way together. Thankfully, they don’t have to deal with it all on their own; thankfully, neither do we. Our Lord can be trusted with our every secret, because He knows it all—and loves us—anyway.

  God bless,

  Questions for Discussion

  The Shaw family invested heavily in the community of Jasper Gulch from its official founding, helping to build and support the town, through the church, the bank, the city government and the economy. However, did they have too much influence in the town?

  Lucy Shaw’s staged accident on the Beaver Creek Bridge caused that bridge to be closed for nearly ninety years, shutting off one of only two routes of access into and out of Jasper Gulch. This is an example of a secret that impacted an entire community. Can you think of any secrets that have impacted entire communities or even societies in real life?

  Robin’s parents doubted her great-grandmother’s confession. Why would they do that? Can you think of true instances when people confessed to having other identities and faking their own deaths and were doubted?

  Robin’s “proof” for her great-grandmother’s confession consisted of the details of the story (some of them not widely known), the corroboration of a witness (Rusty Zidek), her own middle name—which was the same as her supposed great-great-grandmother’s—and her amazing likeness to that same great-great-grandmother as seen in an old photograph. Would that be enough for you to make your case? Would it be enough for you to accept her claim? Why or why not?

  Jackson Shaw knew well that Silas Massey had looted the Jasper Gulch bank in retribution for Ezra’s not allowing him to reclaim his share of the gold buried in the time capsule when Silas’s investments had gone awry. Because the Shaw family had then struggled for years to cover the bank’s losses and keep its depositors and, thereby, the community afloat, Jackson felt justified in taking the gold for himself and his family. Was this reasonable? Why or why not?

  Robin feared that Jackson would reject her claims and possibly even force her out of town. She knew that the Shaws had managed to keep the bridge closed for decades, had kept secret the looting of the bank by Silas Massey and had “owned” the mayor’s office since the city’s founding. She had seen Jackson in action. Did her fear seem reasonable? What did her fear say about her faith?

  Robin’s need for family connection drove her great-grandmother to confess her secrets on her deathbed and led Robin to seek the truth in Montana. Some say the need for family connection is a basic human drive. Do you think that is true? If it is true, why do you suppose we have so many broken families?

  Ethan had his own secrets. We all have pasts, and we all have difficulties, but do we hold pastors to a different standard? Why?

  The former pastor counseled Ethan not to immediately reveal his past. Instead, he advised Ethan to give himself time to settle in and let others come to know him better before revealing his past. In a real-life situation, have you ever given such counsel?

  Had Ethan not had his own secret, would he have been so sensitive to and understanding of Robin’s situation? Did his family’s estrangement make him more sensitive to and understanding of her reason for coming to Jasper Gulch? In general, is it not our shared experiences that make us better friends, more able servants, sincere condolers, wise advisers?

  Secrets, secrets, secrets! But are all secrets bad? The Shaws kept the looting of the bank a secret so the bank wouldn’t fail. This saved depositors from losing their money, but it gave Jackson a motive for stealing the gold in the time capsule. Good or bad?

  Lucy Shaw faked her own death via an accident on the bridge so she could marry the man of her choice. Robin was the ultimate result, but so was the closing of the bridge. Good or bad?

  Robin came to Jasper Gulch under the guise of writing a paper on genealogy so she could investigate her great-grandmother’s story and possibly find family. Good or bad?

  Ethan kept quiet about the death of his girlfriend in a gang shooting and his father’s incarceration, hiding the depth of his own turnaround in the process. Good or bad?

  Rusty Zidek kept Lucy’s secret for eighty-eight years. Then he went on a secret campaign of sending mysterious notes. Good or bad?

  In the end, Jackson Shaw saw the error of his ways, confessed all, stepped aside as mayor, made restitution (and then some) and generally played a part in fulfilling Ethan and Robin’s faith. Does this ever happen in real life? Can you share an instance of it?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

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  Chapter One

  Breezy Hernandez stood in front of the massive wood door on the front porch of her brother’s Texas Hill Country home. When she’d met Lawton Brooks two months ago, he had filled in the missing pieces of her life.

  Now he was gone. In one tragic accident Lawton, his wife and his mother had been taken. The lawyer in Austin had given her this address. He’d told her in Martin’s Crossing she would find Jake Martin, executor of the estate.

  She knocked on the door and then looked out at the windblown fields dotted with small trees, waiting for someone to answer. No one did. There was no muffled call for her to come in, or footsteps hurrying to answer the door. She leaned her forehead against the rough wood, her hand dropping to her side. Her heart ached.

  After a few minutes she wiped away the dampness on her cheeks and reached for the handle. It wasn’t locked. She pushed the door open, hesitating briefly before stepping inside. Why should she hesitate? Nothing would change the reality that Lawton and his wife had been killed in a plane crash two weeks ago. She’d missed the opportunity to see him again. She’d missed the funeral and the chance to say goodbye.

  But she could be there for his girls.

  As she stepped inside she flipped a switch, flooding the stone-tiled foyer in soft amber light. The entryway led to a massive living room with stone flooring, textured walls in earthy tan and a stone fireplace flanked by brown leather furniture.

  Enveloped by silence and the cool, unheated air, she stood in the center of the room. There were signs of life, as if the people who had lived here had just stepped out. There were magazines on the cof
fee table, a pair of slippers next to a chair. Toys spilled from a basket pushed against the wall. Her throat tightened, aching deep down the way grief does.

  “It isn’t fair,” she said out loud, the words sounding hollow in the empty space.

  She should have come to Texas sooner but she’d needed time to come to terms with what Lawton had told her. His father, Senator Howard Brooks, had an affair with her mother, Anna, a drug addict from Oklahoma City. Breezy was the result of that brief relationship. She’d known for years that she wasn’t the true granddaughter of Maria Hernandez, the woman who had taken her in years ago. Maria had given her that information shortly before she passed away.

  Now she knew who she was. But what good did that do her?

  She left the living room and walked to the kitchen. The room was large and open, with white cabinets and black granite countertops. She moved from that room, with sippy cups in a drainer next to the sink, to the dining room.

  A table with four chairs and two high chairs dominated the room. On the opposite wall were family portraits. She stopped at the picture of an older man in a suit, a flag of Texas behind him. Her father, Senator Howard Brooks.

  In the next picture his wife of over forty years stood next to him. They looked happy. Evelyn Brooks hadn’t known about her husband’s brief affair or his daughter. He’d confessed the secret on his deathbed one year ago.

  Breezy drew in a breath and fought the sting of tears. She’d never been one to cry over spilled milk. Not even if that meant she might have had a real family.

  This was different, though. This was a family lost. Her family. She had a habit of losing family. It had started more than twenty years ago, after her mother’s death, when she and her siblings were all separated. Mia was adopted by the Coopers and Juan went to his father’s family. Breezy had been taken in the night by Maria because she had worried they would eventually learn the truth, that Maria’s son wasn’t really Breezy’s father.

  Out of fear, Maria had kept them moving from town to town, living in cars, shelters and sometimes pay-by-the-month hotels.

  Breezy brushed off the memory. It was old news.

  A wedding photo hung on the wall. She studied the image of her brother and his pretty bride, both wearing identical looks of joy. At the last picture her heart stilled. Lawton, his wife, their two baby girls.

  Just then, a sound edged in, a door closing. Footsteps, heavy and booted, echoed in the empty house. She held her breath, waiting.

  “Who are you?” The deep male voice sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine.

  Breezy turned, not quite trembling in her shoes, but nearly. The man filled the doorway. His tall, lean frame in jeans and a dark blue shirt held her attention, and then her eyes connected with pale blue eyes in a suntanned face. His dark hair was short but messy, like he’d just taken off a hat. She let her gaze drop, almost expecting a holster, Old West style, slung low on his hips.

  Of course there wasn’t one.

  “I’m Breezy. Breezy Hernandez.” Chin up, she swallowed a lump of what might have been fear.

  His eyes narrowed and he frowned. “The missing sister.”

  She wanted to argue she hadn’t been missing. She hadn’t known she was lost. She’d needed time to process that she had this brother. She’d needed time alone to figure out what it meant to find out who her father was. The ache in her heart erupted again. She’d been on the run for most of her life; it had become second nature to take off when things got a little dicey. Maria Hernandez had taught her that.

  “So we know who I am. Who are you?” She managed to not shake as she asked the question, meeting his somewhat intimidating gaze.

  “Jake Martin.”

  “Of Martin’s Crossing.” The town in the middle of nowhere that she’d driven through to get here.

  “Yes, Martin’s Crossing.”

  “The girls?” She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that he was moving toward her.

  “They’re safe.” He stepped close, smelling of the outdoors, fresh country air and soap. “I got a call from Brock, the attorney in Austin. He said he told you to come here and talk to me.”

  “Yes, he told me about Lawton and asked me to find you.” She shook her head. “I missed the funeral, I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t give him explanations.

  She guessed the Goliath standing in front of her wouldn’t want to hear explanations. He wouldn’t want to know how much it hurt to know that all these years she’d had another brother. And now he was gone.

  “Right.” He looked away, but not before she saw the sorrow flash across his face, settling in his eyes. She started to reach out but knew she shouldn’t. Her hand remained at her side.

  Maybe they were feeling the same sense of loss but he didn’t seem to be a man who wanted comfort from a stranger. From her.

  “So, you came for your inheritance?” He dropped the words, sharp and insulting.

  “Is that why you think I’m here?”

  “It would make sense.”

  She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. It’s insulting.”

  He shrugged one powerful shoulder. “Your brother was my best friend. His daughters are my nieces. I have every right to keep them safe.”

  “I’m not here for any reason other than to see them.” She turned and walked back to the kitchen.

  “Running?” He followed her, light on his feet for a man so large.

  “Not at all. I need a minute to cool off so I don’t hit you with something.”

  At that, the smooth planes of his face shifted and he smiled. She was slammed with a myriad of other emotions that seemed more dangerous than her rage. At the sink she filled a glass with water and took a sip. He scooted a chair out from the island in the middle of the big room and bent his large form to fit the seat. She ignored the lethal way he sat, like a wild cat about to attack. She ignored that he had beautiful features, strong but beautiful. She could draw him, or chisel his likeness in stone.

  Or grab a chunk of granite and…

  His eyebrows lifted, as if he guessed where her thoughts had gone.

  “I’m not here to take what I can and leave.” She remained standing on the opposite side of the island, not wanting to be anywhere near him. She needed that force of wood and stone between them.

  “Really.” His voice was smooth but deep, and full of skepticism.

  “Yes, really. I had a father and a brother that I never got to meet. I wanted to come here because this is where Lawton lived. I thought I might somehow…” She shook her head. “Never mind. He’s gone. I want to meet his daughters. Please, just let me meet them.”

  *

  Jake stood, rethinking what he’d come to tell her. Rethinking her. She stood on the other side of the counter, as if the granite could protect her. As he eased out of the chair, she moved a little to the right, her back against the counter. Brown eyes the unfortunate color of caramel watched him.

  Unfortunate because her eyes were strangely compelling. And more, there were emotions that flickered in their depths—sadness, anger, loss. He hadn’t expected to feel anything for her other than distrust.

  “I’m going to get a glass of water, nothing else,” he said.

  He opened the cabinet and found a glass, filling it with cold water from the fridge. He took a drink and studied the sister of his best friend, looking for similarities. She had long straight dark blond hair that framed a face that he’d call beautiful but strong. She was tall and slim but not thin. The peasant skirt and blouse gave her a bohemian look. She would stand out in Martin’s Crossing. If she stayed. He doubted she would. She had city written all over her.

  Yes, she looked enough like Lawton for him to believe she was his sister. Lawton had obviously believed it. Even before the DNA test.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “You remind me of your brother.”

  “I hope that’s a compliment.”

  “It’s an observation.” He watched her, still unsure
. He’d been unsure from the beginning when Lawton first told him about her. “I need to head back to my place. You can meet me over there.”

  Jake poured out the remaining water and put the glass in the dishwasher. She had moved away from him again. He didn’t comment, just walked past her and headed for the front door, grabbing his hat off the hook on his way out. She followed.

  He had more on his mind than a sister who suddenly showed up when it looked as if the gravy train might have derailed in her front yard. Back at his place he had a mare about to foal. He’d lost a good cow that morning and now had a calf to tend to. He had fifty head of cattle heading to the sale tomorrow and a brother who couldn’t get his act together.

  They both stopped on the porch. The temperature, typical of late November, had dropped fifteen degrees while they’d been inside. Clouds were rolling, gray and full of rain.

  “How far?” She looked past him to the open land and seemed unsure. Then she focused her attention on the horse he’d tied to the post.

  “Not far.” He untied his horse, tightening the girth strap and watching her over the top of the saddle. “Since I’m riding, you’ll need to go back down the drive, turn left and in a mile take a left at the entrance to the Circle M.”

  “How long before you get there?”

  “It’ll take me a little longer but I’m cutting through the field, so not much.” They stood there staring at each other and he noticed the softness in her brown eyes. The last thing he wanted was to give in to the softness. Lawton had immediately trusted her. That wasn’t Jake’s way. He had to be the one to draw lines and make sure no one got hurt. But he wasn’t an ogre. “I’m sorry.”

  She gave a quick nod her eyes registering surprise. “Thank you.”

  “He was a good man.” More words of kindness. His brother Duke would have been proud. He’d told Jake to be nice to their new sister. He’d almost laughed at that. She was not their new sister.

  Jake didn’t need one more person to watch out for. His plate was full of siblings that couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble.