The Kidnapped Christmas Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 3) by Jane Porter

Author:Jane Porter [Porter, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: novella, Romance, Christmas
ISBN: 9781942240259
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group
Published: 2014-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

‡

They arrived at Bigfork at a little after midnight, the high full moon reflecting white off Flathead Lake as they drove south fifteen miles on Highway 35 to the little town of Cherry Lake.

If they kept going another eighteen miles they’d come to Polson.

Trey’s mom, Catherine Cray, had spent her early years outside Cherry Lake, a member of the Bitterroot Salish tribe that formed part of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes of the Flathead Nation.

All but the northern tip of Flathead Lake was part of the extensive Flathead Indian Reservation, and when Trey’s mother’s grandparents died, they left an old cabin on the lower slope of the Mission Mountains, and a couple acres of land to their daughter, hoping she’d return and raise her sons on the land of her ancestors.

Trey’s father hadn’t minded taking the boys to the cabin with its spectacular view of Flathead Lake for fishing trips, but he wasn’t interested in his wife’s native ancestry. She wasn’t even half Salish and he wasn’t about to raise his sons as native this, or that.

Trey hadn’t been to the cabin in years, but until recently Cormac visited regularly, and apparently just this past summer Brock had brought Harley and the kids for a ten-day vacation, using the time to rebuild the old stone fireplace, install a new stove in the kitchen, and make a number of smaller repairs.

“Know where we’re going now?” Trey asked McKenna as they drove past the turn-off to sleepy little Cherry Lake, a Flathead Lake town that came alive in summer with tourists and the colorful fresh fruit stands dotting the road selling crates of Lamberts, Rainier and Hardy Giant cherries.

“I had a suspicion when you took 83 north,” McKenna answered, shifting TJ to free her arm, which had gone numb sometime in the last half hour. “When’s the last time you were here?”

“It’s been a long time, but you were here with me. It was a couple years before TJ was born.”

“I remember,” she said softly. They’d driven from Marietta for a long weekend at the cabin in late September. Most of the tourists were gone and the local kids were all in school. It jad felt like they had the lake and town to themselves. “We had fun.”

He shot her a swift glance, expression somber. “We did,” he agreed. “And we will again.”

The last words were spoken so quietly she wasn’t sure he’d even said them. She glanced at him but his attention was on the steep private road that wound back to the cabin.

*

The keys to the Cray cabin were right where they’d always been, tucked high up the hollowed leg of the wooden grizzly cub gracing the cabin’s front porch. Trey unlocked the cabin’s front door, flipped on the light switch and was gratified to see light flood the open main room, a combination of living room, dining room and small kitchen.

The one and a half story log cabin had been built in the late 1940’s and had just the bare minimum in maintenance until Cormac started paying regular visits ten years ago.

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