media.
May God bless and help you to forgive yourself and others.
Angel Moore
There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.
—Romans 8:1
To my editor, Dina Davis.
Thank you for helping me remember to write with joy.
To my readers, for inspiring me to keep writing.
And to God, my source and strength.
Contents
Gran Colina, Texas
December 1881
Rena Livingston hung her head. She couldn’t look at Sheriff Scott Braden. Not while her father was asking him to marry her and give her unborn child a name.
“I’d be beholden to you for the rest of my days if you do this for my Rena.” Her father’s voice wasn’t boisterous or bold like when he gave speeches as the mayor of Gran Colina. It was heavy with sorrow. And it was her fault.
“Oscar, you know I’d do anything in the world for you. I owe you my life, but this is too much.” Rena could feel the sheriff’s eyes on her now. She saw his hand as he swept it in her direction. “Why, Rena doesn’t even like me.”
She cringed. Scott Braden had become one of her father’s closest friends right after he’d moved to Gran Colina two years ago. She’d never forget the day they’d met. Bank robbers had burst into the Gran Colina Bank and Trust. Scott had shoved her under a desk to keep her out of harm’s way. Only she hadn’t realized what was happening. Her outburst at his actions had distracted him and nearly cost Scott his life. When he’d tried to quieten her, one of the robbers had put a pistol to his head. The man would have pulled the trigger if her father hadn’t knocked the gun away. Scott and her father had subdued the robbers in the struggle that followed. The events of that day got Scott the job as sheriff and sealed the friendship between the two men.
But Rena always bristled in Scott’s presence. Something about the man was unsettling. It wasn’t his strong good looks. Blue eyes so clear the sky should be jealous. His full bottom lip lifted on one side as it made its way to the corner of his mouth. To some it would appear as a defect, but on Scott, it was as if he’d been created with so much perfection that the one little offset prevented him from being flawless. Those looks gave him trouble of a different kind from the single ladies in town. They were always bringing him pies or dinner, hoping to win his attention. To no avail.
No. Her discomfort around him was relentless. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that the times he’d suggested she should attend church with her father had made her feel judged by him. If he’d thought poorly of her character before, her situation would validate those thoughts.
Even in her current state of humiliation, she was compelled to speak. “I told you this wouldn’t work, Papa.”
“Be silent, Rena. You have forfeited your right to have a say in these matters.” Her father never spoke to her so harshly, but she’d
