Margaret Brownley, Robin Lee Hatcher, Mary Connealy, Debra Clopton by A Bride for All Seasons

Author:A Bride for All Seasons
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Autumn’s Angel

Robin Lee Hatcher

This means that anyone who belongs to

Christ has become a new person.

The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

2 CORINTHIANS 5:17 NLT

SEPTEMBER 10, 1870

BEYOND THE WINDOW OF THE PASSENGER CAR, THE plains of western Nebraska lay flat, lifeless, empty. Dawn had begun to lighten the sky from black to pewter. The night was nearly over, but Luvena hadn’t slept a wink, even though exhaustion permeated every fiber of her body. And after seemingly endless days of travel, she was certain she looked as terrible as she felt—wrinkled, gritty, and bedraggled.

Elsie, her eight-year-old niece, shifted from left side to right, her head resting in Luvena’s lap. Luvena smiled as she brushed unruly hair back from the child’s face. She envied the girl. Luvena had been like that as a child, able to sleep anytime, anywhere. But no more. Not with so many responsibilities weighing on her shoulders.

Her gaze shifted to the seat opposite her where Elsie’s older brother and sister also slumbered. Lying lengthwise, Ethan, age ten, took up most of the seat, his feet hanging off the edge into the aisle. Merry, the eldest of the siblings at fourteen, was squeezed up against the wall of the coach, her head and shoulder pressed against the sooty window in the little space left for her by her brother.

Looking at the children, her heart broke once again over all they’d lost, over the end of their dreams—and over the end of her own too. Once upon a time, she’d dreamed of becoming an opera singer. A girlish, unrealistic dream most likely, but one she’d relished. Her vocal teacher had declared Luvena possessed the voice of an angel and promised that she would be a sensation if ever she performed on the stage in New York City or the capitals of Europe. Luvena had chosen to believe her—for a time. That was before her family was plunged into disgrace. These days, she rarely sang where anyone might hear and compliment her. Not even in church. It hurt too much.

Drawing a deep breath, she pushed such thoughts away. She had no time for them. In another twenty-four hours, she and her little brood of orphans would disembark in Promontory, Utah. From there they had three or four grueling days of travel by stagecoach to Boise City, the capital of Idaho Territory. And there, at last, she would meet the man she was to marry. The man who would provide a home and security for the children of her sister.

Please, God, let it be a good home. A happy home.

She glanced down at the letter in her hand. How often had she read it since leaving Massachusetts? Ten times. Twenty. Perhaps more. She could almost recite it from memory. As for the photograph he’d sent—she looked at it again—it was small and grainy, but Mr. Birch appeared clean and respectable. No beard or mustache. He wasn’t too old either. Thirty-one to her twenty-three years. And although he didn’t smile in the photograph, neither did he look disagreeable.

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