Loving a Rebel Read online

  Loving a Rebel

  Linda Ford

  Contents

  Exclusive invitation

  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

  Epilogue

  Exclusive invitation

  Sneak peek of A Love to Cherish

  Dear Reader

  Also by Linda Ford

  Exclusive invitation

  Are you a member of Linda’s email newsletter? Right now you can receive a special gift, available only to newsletter subscribers. Following My Heart is a short story and will not be released on any retailer platform—only to newsletter subscribers.

  The story of the Kinsley family begins long before they take up residence in Glory, Montana Territory. It begins with a young woman, married to a preacher man. Both of them desire to serve God and have a large family. But their lives aren’t the dream they’d imagined. There are disappointments that threaten their hearts. Will their faith endure and their love survive?

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  Chapter 1

  Glory, Montana, spring 1884

  Flora Kinsley squinted into the blinding snow. Could anything more go wrong on a day that had started out so shining and bright? She was lost, with no idea how far she was from town. Not that it was her fault. She’d ridden hard, certain a rider followed her and gained on her. In her attempt to avoid the man on her trail, she’d pushed her horse too hard and it came up lame. And now a snowstorm.

  “Montana, you sure did let me down. Guess I’ll be moderating my praise of you in the future.” She’d loved the Territory since her family moved west a few months ago. So wild and free. Just as she wished to be.

  She’d been warned over and over to moderate her wildness. You reap what you sow. The dire words had done nothing to slow her down. Moving to Montana Territory had given her so many exciting opportunities. Riding like a man thrilled her as she raced across the countryside.

  She sighed. Seems the predictions of her parents and sisters were about to come true if she didn’t soon stumble upon the road to town.

  As a preacher’s daughter she knew about prayer, and although she generally figured her parents did enough praying that she didn’t need to bother, they weren’t there at the moment and were unaware of her circumstances. She’d have to do her own praying.

  “God, I’m lost, and it’s snowing fit to bury me alive. Could You please guide me home? Or at least to shelter. Without the company of that man following me.” Though she hadn’t seen any sign of him in the last half hour. Maybe he’d watched the storm approaching and found some place to hunker down where he’d be warm and dry.

  “Wouldn’t mind being warm and dry myself.” She spoke aloud to keep her senses clear. Though she wasn’t desperate enough to wish to share the same shelter as the man following her. She’d glimpsed enough of him to know he was unkempt and dirty. And the way he kept on her trail made her think he had more in mind than a friendly visit. “I’ll freeze to death first.” She squinted into the white curtain hoping…praying for something to guide her to safety.

  Did she see a light? She narrowed her eyes as the bright patch flickered and disappeared. Swiping the snow from her lashes she stared hard in the direction she’d seen it. Might it be only her imagination? No. There it was again.

  “Thanks be to God.” She quoted one of her pa’s favorite sayings.

  But what if it was the man she fled? She approached slowly, prepared to turn and go the other direction if she got so much as a glimpse of him. In a few more steps she thought the light filled a square. Yes. She had stumbled on the dwelling of one of the homesteaders who had moved into the area. The snow flurried around her, blocking her view. Then it swirled away enough for her to make her way to the house.

  She banged on the door and shivered as she waited for an answer.

  The door opened.

  “You,” she said. Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse. “Kade Thomas?”

  “Miss Kinsley, what are you doing out here in the midst of a storm?” His voice rang with displeasure.

  She shrugged just as she had when he’d been equally clear about his opinion of her a week ago in town. “My horse is lame. Can I leave him here and borrow yours to get home?”

  “Miss Kinsley, take a look around you. We’re in the middle of a storm. You can’t see two feet in front of you.”

  “But I must get back to town.” Her parents would be distraught if she didn’t return soon. “I’m sure I can make it if you will point me in the right direction and allow me to leave my horse here.” She looked behind her, to her right and left, hoping for a glimpse of the town of Glory nearby.

  “So, you’re lost. Your horse is lame and—” He sighed. “Everyone tried to warn you that your rash actions would bring you grief.”

  She huffed. “I suppose it’s my fault a storm has blown in.”

  He shook his head without answering.

  “I know you don’t approve of me. You made that very clear already.” Her nerves twitched with the memory of last week. She’d gone out riding and lost track of time. In her hurry to get back before her parents would worry, she’d ridden down the alley behind the hotel and right into the midst of some rowdy cowboys. One of them caught her horse. Hands grabbed her, threatening to drag her from the saddle.

  That’s when Kade had stepped from the shadows. She’d met him before. Ma made a point of inviting the cowboys who attended church to join them for dinner after the service. Kade had come on two occasions. After that, he had refused the invite, saying he must get home.

  He had warned the rowdies away and led her horse homeward. As soon as they were away from the others, he’d made his opinion very clear. “A girl with any sense would avoid such situations. I’ve found those people who have no regard for safety and common sense often end up in trouble. Far too often others also pay the price of their foolishness.”

  His assessment of her had stung then and still burned beneath her breastbone.

  “I know your opinion of me, but does that mean you won’t help me?”

  With a weary sigh that scraped along her nerves, he stepped aside. “You better come in out of the cold before we both freeze.”

  “No thank you. Just point me toward town and

  I’ll be on my way.” She’d walk, taking her time so Dollar could favor his leg.

  “It’s half an hour ride to get to town.” He pointed to his right. “On foot, in the snow, it would take much longer and it will be dark before you get there.”

  “Thank you so much for your help.” She let sarcasm color her words and turned toward the direction he’d indicated. But before she took two steps, he reached out and stopped her.

  “Gal, you’ve been in Montana long enough to have learned a little respect for the weather even if you’ve learned none about wise conduct for yourself.” His gaze took in her trousers and no doubt, her hair, which had blown free from the braids she had tamed it in before she left home.

  Oh. Her insides flamed. How dare he judge her? Just because she liked the freedom of wearing trousers and riding fast and unfettered.

  She yanked free of his hold. “I can look out for myself.”

  He caught her arm again, holding the sleeve of her coat firmly enough she would have to leave the warm garment behind in order to escape his grasp.

  She wasn’t that foolish, even if he thought so.

  “Kindly unhand me.” Her eyes burned with heat.

  “No. You can’t wander off into a storm. It’s not reasonable.”

  Arggh. If he made one more disparaging comment about her mental abilities, she would not be able to contain her brewing anger.

  “What are you suggesting?” Her voice was cold as the snow falling about her shoulders.

  “You’ll have to stay here until the storm ends.”

  She gave an unladylike snort. “I’d sooner wait it out in a snowbank.” She flung her arm in an arc that forced him to release her and stomped away, shivering with the cold.

  Never would she admit that a large dose of fear made her teeth rattle even more than the cold.

  For a heartbeat, Kade considered letting the fiery red-haired woman wander into the storm. He had seen enough of her, and heard even more, to know that she flaunted rules and cared nothing for her own safety. Exactly the sort of woman he meant to steer a wide path around. He did not need any more of that kind of aggravation in his life.

  But his conscience wouldn’t allow her to venture into the storm where she’d surely perish.

  He would do the right thing even if he lived to regret it. He stepped into the thickly falling snow and blocked her path. “You cannot leave. I forbid it.”

  She drew up, and even in the damp cold he felt the heat of her anger. “You forbid it? What makes you think you have that right?”

  He swallowed back a sigh. He should know better than to order a rebel to do something...anything. “I’m sorry. But please do not leave. I fear you will perish in the storm. I’ll gladly offer you shelter until it’s over.” And not one minute longer.

  She considered his words, glanced past him into the thickening storm, checked to her left, squinting into the snow
, then sighed loud and long. “It wouldn’t be fair to my horse to make him go further. Very well. Show me to the barn and I will tend him.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” He slipped into his shearling-lined denim jacket, lit the lantern, and held it before him as he pulled the door shut. Standing with the house open to the elements had left it cold. Perhaps the room would warm up by the time he got back.

  The snow swirled around them as they crossed to the barn. He hung the lantern and, for the first time since he’d opened the door to her knock, looked closely at Flora Kinsley. Her flaming red hair hung about her shoulders, flecked with snow. Snow clung to her dark lashes. She wore trousers just as she had a week ago when he rescued her from some rowdy cowboys. That day he’d seen her safely home to the stables at the back of the churchyard. A few minutes later, she’d emerged wearing a skirt. He couldn’t say if she changed inside the stables or pulled the skirt over her trousers. But he did understand that she knew her parents would be shocked to see her attired in men’s wear. It gave him cause to wonder what else she did that would shock her parents if they knew. Not that he cared. But he intended to pay heed to the warning in his head that this woman had no thought for her own safety and reputation. Anyone having anything to do with her would suffer from her choices.

  She bent over her horse’s right front leg and lifted it to check the injury. “Dollar,” she said addressing her horse. “The good news is it’s just a pebble caught in your hoof.” From her pocket she withdrew a jackknife and dug out the pebble. Then she folded the blade away and stuck the knife back in her pocket.

  “Are you carrying a pistol?” He’d seen the bulge in her coat.

  “I surely am. I’m not so foolish as to ride out on the range without protection.”

  “And yet foolish enough to ride miles from town with no escort.”

  She flicked a look at him that said most clearly that she considered his words ridiculous. She glanced around. “Guess I could shelter here. Don’t suppose you have any way of securing the door against intruders?”

  He studied her long and hard. “Seems a little late to worry about your safety.”

  She shrugged. “Suppose you’re right.” As she talked, she removed Dollar’s saddle and blanket while he put out some hay for both his horse and hers.

  Flora placed her gear on the floor in the corner away from the door and sat down. “I’ll be fine. You can leave.” She waved him away then pulled off her hat to release more tangled curls about her face.

  He saw red—not the color of her hair but the anger coiling inside him—at the arrogance and foolishness of this woman. How did her parents and sisters put up with her? “You aren’t staying here. Get up and come to the house with me.”

  Her dark eyebrows rose. She said nothing nor did she move to obey him.

  He rubbed his fist along his forehead. Why was he being so overbearing with her, especially when he knew she’d resist any hint of an order? “What I mean is, you can’t stay out here. It’s too cold. If you come to the house, it will be warm and I can fix us something to eat.” Her eyes flickered with interest.

  “Maybe some hot tea or coffee too.” He waited, letting her take her time, letting her think she did only what she wanted. In a flash, he saw a reminder of his pa, his brother, Esau, and, Pearl, the girl he’d thought to marry. They, too, hadn’t cared about being careful or doing things the rational way. And look how that had turned out.

  “Very well.” She sprang to her feet and crossed to his side, giving him a look that seemed to say, let’s get moving.

  He grinned. “In a hurry are you? Hungry, thirsty?”

  “And cold.” She shivered.

  “Come on then.” He opened the door to the wind-driven snow. He couldn’t see the house, but that wasn’t a problem. “Best hang on to me so you don’t get blown away. Sure would hate to think of you lost out there.” He half expected her to refuse but then she fisted the material of his coat and clung to his back as he led the way.

  He pushed into the snow, reached the house, and hurried them into the warmth. It hit him then, just how tiny his place was. Two rooms. A bedroom of sorts, just big enough to hold a narrow cot, and this room, which provided living space. It had seemed adequate and cozy until now, but with Flora here the walls crowded in on him.

  He closed the door and rubbed his hands together. “The temperature is really dropping.” He hurried to the stove. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Tea, if it’s all the same to you.”

  He filled the kettle, hoping he wouldn’t have to go outside and pump more water before the storm ended. “I suppose you’re hungry.” The light was already fading because of the thick snow outside.

  “Don’t bother on my account.” She slipped out of her coat and stood next to him at the stove, her hands outstretched for the warmth. “I hope it lets up soon.”

  He put a fry pan on the stove. It already held a thick layer of bacon fat. When it began to sizzle, he tossed in a bowl of boiled potatoes and left them to brown. He liked them crispy.

  All the while, she stood at the stove watching his every move.

  He poured tea, lifted the crispy potatoes out, and added half a dozen eggs. “How do you like yours?”

  “Flipped over and no runny white.”

  He turned each of them with a skill of having spent most of his life doing so. He filled two plates and indicated the nearby table.

  She followed him much like a hungry puppy and sat across from him. She grabbed her fork and gave him an expectant look.

  He understood what she didn’t say…she didn’t eat without asking a blessing on the food. He bowed his head and prayed. “Father God, thank you for shelter, safety, and adequate supplies. Amen.”

  Her smile, fleeting as it was, made him curious.

  “What?”

  “Short and sweet,” she said.

  He understood she meant his prayer. “And to the point.”

  Her eyes sparkled. He’d noticed at their first introduction how blue they were. Like deep mountain lakes or the Montana sky just before dawn.

  “It certainly was.” She dug in to her food. “This is good.”

  “Thanks.” Silence fell between them.

  She glanced toward the window several times. “Doesn’t seem to be letting up.” Her hands scraped across her knees.

  He said what she’d likely been avoiding as much as he had. “It’s getting dark. I’m afraid you’ll have to spend the night.”

  Her chair flew back as she jerked to her feet. “That’s impossible.”

  “You’re worried about your reputation?”

  “No, that’s of little concern to me. Ma and Pa are going to worry.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late to think about how your choices affect them?”

  She leaned over the table, gripping the edge hard enough to make her knuckles white as marbles. “It wasn’t my choice to make it storm. Don’t blame me.”

  “Don’t blame me. I’ve heard that phrase before. But if a person gave their choices a little more consideration, things would be different.”

  They stared at each other, her eyes flashing like roaring water. His felt full of stubborn accusation. The last thing he needed in his life was another person with little regard for how their choices affected others. And yet here she was. The rebel redheaded Kinsley gal. The preacher’s daughter.

  He couldn’t see her father turning a blind eye to the fact his daughter spent the night with a man, no matter what the circumstances.

  There was no way this was going to turn out well. And just like every other time, he could see the end result but was powerless to stop it.

  His food sat like a rock in his stomach.

  How did these people manage to make their way into his life?

  Chapter 2

  Flora took a deep breath—several of them, in fact. He had no right to make it sound like she’d purposely gotten turned around and lost her way and then brought a storm down about her head. If not for her trying to make it impossible for that man out there to follow her…