Dakota Father. Linda Ford

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      “Miss Archibald, I will say it again.

      This is no place for a woman.”

      Before he could escape, Jenny spoke. “I’ll leave when I deem it’s appropriate, but I won’t be run off. I won’t be scared off. So don’t even try.”

      He turned slowly. “Don’t flatter yourself that I’d bother. You’ll find plenty of challenges without my interference.”

      What on earth did he mean? Was there some sort of danger she should be aware of?

      But he was gone before she could ask.

      She heard the sound of horse hooves and looked out the window in time to see Burke riding away, leaning forward as if anxious to be away from this place. She shivered. Should she be afraid of him?

      He turned, saw her at the window. His gaze drilled into her, dark, powerful, full of—

      She jerked back and pressed her palm to her throat.

      Promise? Hope? Or was it a warning?

      LINDA FORD

      shares her life with her rancher husband, a grown son, a live-in client she provides care for and a yappy parrot. She and her husband raised a family of fourteen children, ten adopted, providing her with plenty of opportunity to experience God’s love and faithfulness. They had their share of adventures, as well. Taking twelve kids in a motor home on a three-thousand-mile road trip would be high on the list. They live in Alberta, Canada, close enough to the Rockies to admire them every day. She enjoys writing stories that reveal God’s wondrous love through the lives of her characters.

      Linda enjoys hearing from readers. Contact her at [email protected] or check out her website at www.lindaford.org, where you can also catch her blog, which often carries glimpses of both her writing activities and family life.

      Linda Ford

      Dakota Father

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

      —Psalm 139:14

      To my grandparents and great-grandparents, who faced challenges in moving to a new land.

       I am in awe of the hardships they endured and conquered. We owe them, and the pioneers like them, a debt of gratitude.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Buffalo Hollow, Dakota Territory, 1884

      Nineteen-year-old Jenny Archibald spared a moment to dab at her forehead. If only she could escape the heat sucking at her pores and driving two-year-old Meggie to fretfulness. Jenny sensed the annoyance of those who shared the passenger rail car, cooped up in the same hot box as she and Meggie and having to endure the fitful cries of a child.

      She pulled a clean cloth from the valise at her feet and spread it over the leather seat across from her. “Meggie, lie down and I’ll fan you.” They’d both be considerably cooler if Meggie didn’t clutch at her neck and struggle in her arms.

      Meggie whined a protest but allowed Jenny to put her down and, as she promised, Jenny waved over the child the book she had hoped to read on the trip. She’d naively thought Meggie would sleep the entire way from Center City, Ohio, or be happy to stare out the window at the passing scenery.

      After a few minutes of fussing, Meg stuck two fingers in her mouth and her eyelids lowered. Jenny let out a sigh of relief. And hid a smile as the other occupants let out echoing sighs.

      She glanced about the car. Apart from a withered old lady mumbling in the far seat, Jenny was the only woman aboard. Across the aisle sat two men who seemed to be business associates. They had persevered in wearing their suit coats for the first hour of the trip but now had shed them and waved paper before their faces trying to cool themselves.

      Further along, a cowboy hunched over, his legs stretched out beside the seat in front of him. He spared her a sharp look then pulled his hat low and let his chin fall to his chest.

      Jenny told herself she would not look at the man who sat across from the old lady. She’d been aware of him since he joined them several stops back—dressed in black, with black hair, and black eyes that seemed to see everything.

      Pa was right when he said to her, “Pepper, you must learn to restrain your impulses. Think before you leap.”

      Only it wasn’t that she exactly jumped at the sight of the man. Or the thought of him sitting there so calm and self-contained. More like her heart did a funny little jerk and her eyes jolted to him and away as if controlled by a power beyond her mind.

      Like now. Despite her best intentions, she glanced at him. He watched her, his eyes bottomless. Her breath caught in a pool of heat somewhere behind her heart and she couldn’t look away.

      It took Meggie’s wail to free her from his intense stare.

      “Mama. I want Mama.”

      Jenny’s heart ached for this child. How could she begin to comprehend the loss of both parents? As Lena and Mark lay dying of the raging fever that had taken so many lives Jenny promised them she would see their child delivered to Lena’s brother and his wife and stay long enough to see her settled.

      She did her best to soothe Meggie and fan her without resorting to picking her up.

      The men across the aisle sighed. One muttered loudly enough for the whole car to hear. “You’d think people would know enough to teach their children how to behave in public.”

      Jenny stung under the unfair criticism. Meggie wasn’t her child but even if she had been, the child could be excused her crankiness. No doubt she felt the heat even more than the rest of them.

      If only she could find some cool refreshing water for her. She’d tasted the water from the jug at the back. It was hot and smelled funny. All she needed was for Meg to take sick. But even that inadequate supply had disappeared a short time ago.

      The conductor assured her they would soon reach Buffalo Hollow where she could find fresh water before the next stage of her journey.

      The muttering of the old woman increased in volume. She was clearly annoyed with Meggie’s fussing. The slouching cowboy sat up straight, pushed his hat back and fixed Jenny with a belligerent look.

      “Needs a good whupping.”

      Tears stung the back of Jenny’s eyes. She blinked them back, tossed her head and pursed her lips. She would not let their comments affect her.

      “Leave her be. The kid’s as hot and cranky as the rest of us.” The low words from the black-clad man made Jenny’s tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. If only she could find a drink.

      She