The Brides of Chance Collection
Read The Brides of Chance Collection Online
Authors: Kelly Eileen Hake,Cathy Marie Hake,Tracey V. Bateman
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance
One Chance in a Million
© 2004 by Cathy Marie Hake
Second Chance
© 2005 by Tracey V. Bateman
Taking a Chance
© 2005 by Kelly Eileen Hake
Last Chance
© 2005 by Cathy Marie Hake
Chance Adventure
© 2005 by Kelly Eileen Hake
Chance of a Lifetime
© 2005 by Kelly Eileen Hake
Print ISBN 978-1-62416-738-6
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62836-249-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62836-250-3
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people,
organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover image © Yolande De Kort/Trevillion Images
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683,
www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses
.
Printed in Canada.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE CHANCE IN A MILLION
by Cathy Marie Hake
Dedication
To Kelly and Tracey, because you’re so fun to brainstorm with. To Tracie for her enthusiasm, and to Christian sisters everywhere who make mission fields of their homes and let their lights shine for the Lord.
Chapter 1
San Francisco, 1871
S
tand back, else I’ll make ye shark bait.”
Miriam Hancock suppressed a shudder and shuffled backward to give the seaman space. He had plenty of room to get past her, even with his rolling gait. He and the other men sailing the vessel were more than ready to do her ill. She’d done nothing to deserve their wrath, but they’d served it up in large portions ever since the
Destiny
set sail.
Another crewman clamped his hand around her elbow. “I’ll help you down the plank.”
She fought the urge to yank away. Within the first days of the voyage from the islands to San Francisco, Miriam had found it necessary to push away overly familiar hands and use her hat pin to counter unwanted advances. Twice she’d been accosted by men who had gotten into her cabin. Both times, she’d managed to save her virtue; but the captain, needing to safeguard her, took to locking her in her cabin.
The
Destiny
had finally docked. Today was the first time in weeks she’d been on deck.
“Here. I’ll carry that.” The rough seaman grabbed the valise from Miriam’s numb fingers and hauled her toward a gangplank. The splintered length of wood looked anything but safe. His steadying hold would keep her balanced if she cooperated. Truth be told, the way the gangplank seesawed between ship and dock, the most able assistance might not be sufficient.
A wry smile twisted her lips. Even now, she still might become shark bait.
Once she reached the dock, Miriam fought to stay upright.
“You’ve lost yer land legs,” her escort chortled. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he had no business mentioning lower limbs to a woman of decency. “Stand here a bit. I heard you have a slip o’ paper ’bout where to go.” He leaned closer and jabbed his callused thumb at his chest. His rotten teeth made for fetid breath. “You could lose that paper an’ wait fer Jake O’Leary. I’ll be on shore leave in nigh unto an hour. I could show you a right fine time.”
She snatched her valise from him. Before she could say anything, someone barked, “O’Leary!”
The sailor jolted to attention. “Aye, Cap’n?”
Captain Raithly stalked down the gangplank. “I’ll see to the lady.” He pried the valise from Miriam and braced her arm as he led her off the dock. “I did my best by you. You have to understand that.”
“It was a difficult voyage.”
“Aye.” Within a quarter hour, he’d hired a beefy shoreman to heft her two trunks to the street. From there, she took a hansom cab to the address Captain Raithly gave the driver. Already weary, she relied upon the skill of the mercantile’s owner to arrange the next leg of her journey. Miriam ardently hoped he’d suggest she spend a night at one of the local boardinghouses before he sent her along, but as luck would have it, a stage was ready to leave and there was room on it for her.
By the time the stage stopped in Reliable, Miriam was perilously close to tears. She stood in the street of the tiny town, steamer trunks at her side, as a chilly breeze swirled dirt about her and twilight warned she’d best find shelter. She looked around. Despair welled up. She saw only two women in the whole of the town. Neither could be mistaken for a lady.
Men abounded. They assessed her with more than polite glances. She’d been subjected to far too many leers to be innocent of the lurid intent behind such looks. To her mortification, Miriam knew she was a spectacle. She hurriedly searched up and down the street to spot the local boardinghouse. She desperately needed a fresh bed and a solid night’s sleep.
Just as she came to the dismaying conclusion that no boardinghouse existed, a brick wall of a man burst through the place across the street. The bat-wing saloon doors banged wide open, and he held two adolescents by their ears. Both scrambled to match his stride, and from the looks on their faces, they’d do a jig to keep up so he’d not pinch any harder. The smaller one whined, “Only two beers, Gideon!”
“Neither of you has any business in there,” the man growled.
“C’mon, Gideon,” the older protested. “I’m fifteen!”
The brick wall hauled them to horses hitched directly to Miriam’s left. “Fifteen and foolish,” he said. “If you ever sneak off and try a stunt like this again, I’ll tan your hides’til you can’t sit.”
The younger of the two lads seemed a bit loose limbed. Gideon grabbed him and half-tossed him into his saddle. He took the fifteen-year-old by the back of his trousers and gave him a very uncomfortable-looking boost onto his mount. He unhitched all three horses, and as Gideon mounted his own gelding, the first boy mishandled his reins. His horse danced sideways until his hindquarters swung around. The youngster lost his balance and fell right out of the saddle—onto Miriam.
Miriam watched in astonishment as the horse’s hindquarters came close. She’d stepped back and twisted, but her steamer trunks blocked any further escape. When the boy slumped and slid toward her, she let out a breathless yelp and tried to right him, but he didn’t help in the least. He hit her with just enough force and weight to rob her of her balance.
Oomphf!
Air whooshed out of her lungs as she landed flat on her back on a trunk. The considerable weight of the youth sandwiched her there.
“Whoopie!” he shouted as he clumsily wrapped his arms about her, then tried to nuzzle her neck.
Miriam kicked and shoved. Instead of dislodging him, she only managed to cause them both to roll off the trunk and onto the filthy street. He held her fast as they tumbled round one more time. Her head hit something hard. Just as nausea and panic welled up, Miriam felt the weight lifted off her. Through pain-narrowed eyes, she watched the brick wall shake the kid.
“Logan, behave yourself for a change.” He flung the kid away and hunkered down. “Ma’am? Are you all right?”
She lay there, still unable to draw air back into her lungs. Her head hurt something fierce. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
A rough hand cupped her jaw. “Ma’am? Logan, you brained her!”
“Schee’s re–al purdy, Gideon. Kin I keep her?”
“Drunken fool,” Gideon muttered as he tunneled his arms beneath her. Miriam heard him from a great distance and felt the world tumble into a cold, dizzying swirl.
The next thing she knew, Miriam roused to find herself draped across a strange man’s lap. A host of tattered-looking men encircled them, and a good half-dozen lanterns illuminated her less-than-circumspect situation. Pain and mortification wrung a moan out of her, and her lashes dropped a mere second after they’d lifted.
“She’s comin’ round,” someone observed.
The man who held her cupped her head to his shoulder and ordered in a quiet tone that carried exceptionally well, “You men mosey on back to your own business. This gal isn’t going to want to be crowded. She needs breathing room.”
“Whatcha gonna do if your kid brother addled her wits?”
“I doubt her wits are addled,” he said through gritted teeth.
Miriam dimly wondered if she ought to thank him for his faith in her or if she ought to be angry that he’d made such a pronouncement without first checking with her. She hadn’t even begun to evaluate the damage done yet. Her head felt abominable, and her stomach roiled. She drew in a slow breath to steady herself and push away the pain. A rough thumb brushed lightly back and forth across her cheekbone. Oddly enough, it comforted her.