Table of Contents
Title Page
Be sure to read
Arizona Forever
Copyright ©April 2018 Jaclyn M. Hawkes
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About the Author
What Readers Are Saying About Jaclyn’s Books:
Jaclyn M. Hawkes ROCKS!
I love all of her books! This was another great story that had it all; great characters, fun, happiness, love, suspense, sadness, triumph, family, and joy.
I'm not worried about letting my teenage daughters read anything Jaclyn writes.
Thanks for another great read and please keep them coming! Karen
Fantastic as always!
Fantastic, magnificent and beautifully written.
Amazing!
I have never read a book before that had me captive from the beginning. I cried, have laughed and felt her deep grief and confusion. What a wonderful book and a wonderfully exceptional writer. I can't wait to read more of Jaclyn Hawkes books! Lorraine
I love the way she writes!
I love it!
A fun read that warms your heart and makes you feel just as awesome as the characters!
Jaclyn Hawkes was delightful!
A love story with depth and characters you want to meet.
I find myself reading halfway into the night if I don't set a reminder to stop and sleep when I get her new books. Janie
Journey of Honor A love story
The Outer Edge of Heaven
The Most Important Catch
Healing Creek
Rockland Ranch Series
Peace River
Above Rubies
Once Enchanted
For Joey
Warrior’s Moon
The Sage After Rain
After The Wind
Wildflowers And Kisses
Arizona Forever
JACLYN M. HAWKES
Copyright ©April 2018 Jaclyn M. Hawkes
All rights reserved.
Published and distributed by Spirit Dance Books. Spiritdancebooks.com
855-648-5559
Cover design by Kaycee Chambers Design
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief passages for gushing reviews and for use in a classroom as an example of outstanding literature, where the title, author, and ISBN accompany such use. All opinions expressed herein are that of the author only. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher.
Printed in USA
First Printing April 2018
Library of Congress Control Number 2018940522
ISBN: 978-1-944588-03-8
Thank you to Heather Justesen for her patience, kind temperament, and lovely design work. Also, thank you to Kaycee Chambers. She is a gifted artist and incredibly patient as well. Thank you to my team at Spirit Dance Books LLC. It takes a huge effort to finish a book.
Especially, thank you to my husband. He literally brought food to my writing table to help me get this out on time. You are the best, hon, and I pretty much just adore you!
Jaclyn
This book is dedicated to my husband’s ancestors and family. They settled generations ago in Koosharem, Utah, and have roots deep in the mountain soil surrounding Grass Valley. Prior to joining their family, I had no idea of the grandeur of that country. In fact, I thought south central Utah was all desert. Now I know better and my children have been blessed to have some of their roots planted deep there too. I will forever be grateful for the privilege of spending time in that magnificent place.
1867 Southern Utah Territory
Brekka Toft sat upon her horse and faced into the wind that blew down from the rugged mountains to the west. The storm that brewed there buried the peaks in roiling folds of the deepest gray, and jagged flashes of lightning cracked the heavy thunderheads into a hundred shades of tempest. The wildness of this remote place only emphasized the power of that magnificent fury. The horse beneath her trembled with every smashing boom of thunder and she knew standing here in the open was foolish, but still, the storm fascinated her.
Ever it had been so. Back in Denmark, her father had worried that she carried the blood of the ancient Vikings and would have the urge to follow the storms, much as he had from the time he was a child. That need to face into the wind and see what lay beyond those glorious thunderheads had always been a battle. It tempted her to lay aside her responsibilities as the daughter of a Danish nobleman who had lands and fortune to tend to.
She looked at the striking desert all around her and to the distant mountains looming majestically above the valley floor. How was it that this land so spoke to her, when her home was far away and vastly different? Even before leaving Europe she had felt the pull of this American West. The tales of its beauty, wide open spaces, and even danger evoked some unnamed longing deep within her.
That was the reason she had come here when Luther had spoken of it. It was still the reason she was here, hundreds of miles from the nearest city of any size, in spite of the misgivings she’d occasionally felt over the way Luther was handling this trip.
The thought of Luther made her sigh. She knew he thought he was to be a permanent part of her future, and in truth, she had once considered that too, when she’d first met him back in Denmark. He’d been older, owned a ship and was well traveled and confident, and even her father had thought him to be a gentleman of consequence. But this trip had made her see that he wasn’t the man for her. In fact, she knew that after this adventure was over, she wouldn’t have anything to do with Luther Olafson at all.
He had terrible judgment when it came to the people with whom he surrounded himself. Some of the guides he’d employed to assist them on this sight-seeing trip to the red rock formations hundreds of miles south of Salt Lake City made Brekka’s skin crawl. Even the glorious scenery and the fascinating storm couldn’t quell the feelings of anxiety brought on just by thinking about the men behind her in camp.
Added to that, she had overheard Luther talking to one of the men and Luther had mentioned he dabbled in the slave trade with his ship. Unbelievably, as she listened, she realized Luther was actually discussing buying and selling the children of some of the local Indians and he was apparently disgusted to find out that there were not as many Indians as he’d been led to believe and that he didn’t think it would be a viably lucrative venture. Brekka was horrified! It had literally sickened her. Selling innocent children as slaves! And she was stuck out here with him. With them. When she considered how far they were from other people, the worry weighed heavily.
At least there was Ian about to help keep an eye on things. Even though he was impeccably dressed and almost too well behaved at all times, Brekka believed that somewhere under his perfect manners there was more sub
stance than appeared at first glance. Still, he was one man among several. She wished there were more here than just Ian who inspired confidence—others she could absolutely trust and know would keep her and the other three women safe.
As darkness fell, Brekka turned her horse back for camp, praying as she rode that whatever brought these feelings of trepidation would be held off until they were back to civilization. She lay in her bedroll that night, listening to the distant rumblings of the storm and wondering when it would finally loose the threatened power it held bottled up in those seething clouds. For three evenings in a row now those black thunderheads had piled onto the mountain crags in the west, but so far, all they’d experienced had been that evocative wind and the spectacle of the dry lightning and thunder. She’d never seen anything like it. At some point in time, this storm was finally going to unleash its magnificent fury.
The tenseness around camp these last several days had been like that as well. There was an anxious expectancy of danger that had nothing to do with the weather. As she lay there, she prayed again. She had been taught as a child to pray for peace and reassurance. She’d long ago learned it would come from above if she had faith.
The reassurance came, but there was still that belly-deep sense of caution. She did indeed have some innate need for adventure she had inherited from her Viking ancestors, and she had longed to come on this trip, but something had changed. Even God himself seemed to be prompting her to get away. As she drifted off, she knew that tomorrow she needed to influence Luther and the others to leave this glorious wilderness.
When morning came, the storm had dissipated again and the sky above was a clear, cloudless cerulean blue that went on forever. The black clouds were gone, but the anxiousness wasn’t. She struggled to keep a mask of complacency in place through the morning while she waited for a chance to speak with Luther. He’d gone hunting first thing and still hadn’t reappeared by the time their luncheon was served on the tables set up under the canvas canopy.
Later, she and the other women in their party were sitting under the same canopy, waiting for the sun to begin to slide from the sky and the dreadful heat to finally break. As Brekka sat, she thought back to the camp they’d been in three days before. On the banks of a crystal clear, swiftly flowing creek much bigger than the mere trickle they were camped on now, there had been a lovely waterfall upstream from them.
Knowing the sound she was hearing was falling water, Brekka had talked her friend Jillian into hiking up the creek bottom in the hottest part of the afternoon. They had enjoyed a heavenly hour wading in the creek below the falls in the fold of the hill. Jillian had finally tired of wading and had wandered back to camp, but Brekka hadn’t been able to resist the pull of the falls.
Sure the men were all back in camp lounging in the shade gambling, she had slipped out of her clothing and bathed under the fall of water off the sandstone cliff above and had never felt so wild and unfettered in her life. It had been the most outlandish and unrestrained thing she’d ever done and left her wishing she could stay there in that secluded nook and feel that free forever. It was a wonderfully stark contrast to all the pomp and circumstance that typically ruled her life.
She’d come back to camp with her hair wet and her spirit refreshed, but it hadn’t taken but a moment of having one of the guides watch her with a contemplative look to make her wary again. She realized in an instant that she wouldn’t have the luxury of bathing under the falls again with any privacy. It was that same unkempt Percival in the dirty buckskins who had been eyeing her since they’d began this excursion more than ten days ago.
Sitting in the elegant dining room of the hotel back in Baltimore, this trip had sounded like an adventurous lark when Luther had first mentioned it. Then, Brekka had trusted his judgment. Now, she knew it had been unwise to leave all safety and society behind.
Glancing around, she resisted the urge to shake her head. Actually, they did have some of the trappings of society. The linens and dishes on the tables that had been hauled out here seemed unbelievably incongruous amid the brush and dust. Though she had never camped back home in Denmark, she couldn’t imagine that silver and crystal were the norm for camping.
Wondering how to quiet the growing feelings of misgiving she was struggling with this afternoon, she decided to go to her tent. Rising from the chair she was sitting in, she smoothed her gray green riding habit, pushed a stray tendril of white blonde hair back into the pins that held it up in its twist, and nodded to the other three women as she walked by them.
She had only been in her tent long enough to take a deep breath and make a decision to press Luther about leaving at once for the states when Jillian quietly approached and then ducked inside. Brekka could tell immediately that Jillian was troubled as well and wasn’t surprised to hear her small talk for a moment and then say, “I’m worried, Brekka. I’ve been feeling anxious around some of these men and I feel particularly apprehensive this afternoon. I don’t know what it is, but I want to go home.”
Brekka nodded. “I feel it too, Jillian.” They stood looking at each other for a long moment, neither of them wanting to enlarge upon the tension that was all but palpable. Finally, Brekka nodded and said, “I’ll speak to Luther. We’ll start back tomorrow.” Jillian gave a sigh and her shoulders relaxed and she ducked back out of the tent.
At supper, Brekka waited for an opportune break in the conversation with Luther and then said, “I’ve been thinking, Luther. I feel we should return home sooner than planned. I’m no longer comfortable this far out in the wilderness and I know some of the others feel the same. I wish to begin the return trip tomorrow.”
She was shocked when he completely brushed her concerns aside and said, “But Brekka, we’ve only just begun our journey. You haven’t seen any of the most striking red rock formations we’ve been told about.”
With the apprehension she was feeling, the last thing she was interested in was scenery and she pressed him, “I no longer care about the red rocks, Luther. I wish to leave. First thing in the morning. Yes, it is lovely here. Even as dry as it is, it is breathtaking. Still, I am suddenly uncomfortable and feel we should go.”
The smile he gave her was cool at best as he replied, “I’m sorry to hear that, Brekka. Nevertheless, we are going nowhere until my business here is complete. Leaving now is out of the question.”
Further surprised at his disregard, and confused at his talk, she asked, “Business? What business? We are here on a site-seeing excursion.”
At this, he gave her a smile that oozed self-satisfaction. “Ah, there is sight seeing to be done, yes. But this trip is to be lucrative as well. There are commodities here in the desert to be bought and sold. Just like in other countries. In addition, the Transcontinental Railroad is only a few hundred miles from completion not far from here and then it will extend out from the hub of Salt Lake City. These Mormons are pitifully simple-minded. This trip could prove to be very profitable for me. For us. But there is such a short window of opportunity. I’m not going to let a female’s nerves interfere. Rather, I need your help to win everyone over.”
He gave a tight smile and went on, “Not only that, but I can assist you in investing your father’s capital and make you a wealthy, wealthy woman. We must discuss a partnership.” He gave her a look that made her uncomfortable and a bigger confident smile. “A very long term partnership. There’s no limit to what the two of us can do together.”
Brekka tried not to let her anger at his disregard and her disgust at his inference show, knowing that a confrontation out here in the wilderness would accomplish nothing. She was already a wealthy, wealthy woman, although the fact that her money had been the major financing for this trip didn’t seem to carry much influence at the moment. And why would Luther think she would help him control her father’s money?
Her father valued her opinion and had taught her well, but he handled most of the business. Nor would Brekka ever get involved with Luther in a partnership. Not now th
at she knew his character, and especially not when he completely discounted a woman’s judgment so. She wished her father were here. He would have protected her and he trusted her intuition completely, on business and otherwise.
Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to speak of finances. I wish to leave, Luther. Tomorrow. Or at the latest, the next morning.”
His smile stiffened and his eyes hardened as he said only, “I’ll give it some thought. Although I’m sure tomorrow you’ll be your old adventurous self again.” The fact that he had no intention of honoring her wishes was obvious when he lifted a crystal goblet and said, “To Adventure. This is an excellent vintage. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Brekka gave her own insincere smile, feeling helpless and angry that her concerns were being completely ignored. Perhaps she could talk to Ian and he could influence Luther to leave.
As Lije Lauritzen pulled his wagon to the boardwalk near the livery stable in the small, dust colored town of Rock Creek, Utah Territory, unbeknownst to him, three matronly women standing in the mercantile across the street simultaneously walked to the window to look out at him. Settling the horses, he set the brake, tied off the reins, and then jumped down to stride toward the smithy.
None of the three said anything, but all of them were thinking about the lovely, lush valley Lije and his brother Lars had worked so diligently to make blossom like a rose in the desert. He had the most beautiful ranch in the whole of southern Deseret, and easily the most productive. He’d built a series of ditches that watered the entire valley, a rarity even in this modern year of 1867, and the valley indeed blossomed with alfalfa, grain, and orchards aplenty—not to mention the excellent herd of horses and imported Shorthorn cattle he raised.
There was even a rumor about how he had somehow piped hot water into a special bathing room right inside his house. None of them believed the rumor, but it certainly added to the intrigue of the man and his lush ranch.
Into the Wind_A Love Story Page 1
