Hosea's Bride. Dorothy Clark

      Light from the oncoming car pierced the night, spreading in an ever-widening swath across the pavement behind her as it approached. She had to hide. But where?

      The deeper darkness of a recessed doorway appeared on her left. She darted up the short flight of stairs, then wedged against the side wall as a long black car pulled up to the intersection. She grabbed the doorknob and gave it a violent twist. The latch clicked back as the gleam of the headlights threw her shadow against the painted wood. At that moment, she yanked the door open and leaped inside the building. She slammed the door closed and collapsed against it, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

      “Good evening.”

      She jerked upright as an elderly man smiled and handed her a leaflet. In the center of the cover was a large cross with the word Crossroads emblazoned on the horizontal bar.

      Hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat. She was in a church. Of all places!

      DOROTHY CLARK

      is a creative person. She lives in a home she designed and helped her husband build (she swings a mean hammer!) with the able assistance of their three children. She also designs and helps her husband build furniture, and does remodeling and decorating for family and friends. When she is not thus engaged, she can be found cheering her grandchildren on at various sports events or band and chorus concerts, or furiously taking notes about possible settings for future novels as she and her husband travel throughout the United States and Canada. Hosea’s Bride is Dorothy’s debut novel. Her first historical romance, Beauty for Ashes, will be a June 2004 release from Steeple Hill Women’s Fiction. Dorothy enjoys hearing from her readers, and may be contacted at [email protected].

      Hosea’s Bride

      Dorothy Clark

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      And I will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea,

       I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto Me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the LORD.

      —Hosea 2:19-20

      This book is lovingly dedicated to my best friend,

       hero and husband, Ralph; my children, Craig and Tina, Brenda and Jay, and Cory; my grandchildren, Megan, Shaina, Mason and Hillary. How could I ever write books about love without you in my life? You are all wonderful and special, and I love you to pieces. To my sisters Virginia and JoAnn, thanks for the prayers and support. Marjorie, thanks for those things and for being so careful of my time (Mt.10:41). To my nieces and nephews, thanks for rallying around, guys! I love you all. To Johnny, Orv, and Jody Kay, who live forever in my heart. And most of all to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Truly, in Him, all things are possible.

      Special thanks to Pastor Ron Jutze and his wife,

       Shirley, for their unfailing love, support, encouragement and prayers on behalf of my writing ministry. I will never forget Pastor Ron’s reaction when he read the prologue! You guys are the best!

      To God be the glory!

      Contents

      Prologue

      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

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Prologue

      Gelina pressed back against the storefront, scanning the unfamiliar street. It looked safe. She stepped out of the shadow, her stiletto heels clicking against the concrete as she ran to the curb and dashed across the connecting road.

      From the side street the low, powerful hum of a geared-down motor sounded.

      She hadn’t lost them!

      Her heart lurched violently in her chest, pumping terror through her veins. She broke into a dead run down the deserted sidewalk toward a patch of darkness under a broken streetlight.

      Maybe I should throw my purse into the middle of the road. Maybe he’ll stop looking for me if I give him the money!

      Light from the oncoming car pierced the night, spreading in an ever widening swath across the pavement behind her as it approached. She had to hide. But where?

      The deeper darkness of a recessed doorway appeared on her left. Gelina darted up the short flight of stairs, then wedged back against the side wall as a long, black car pulled up to the intersection. The black fishnet stockings stretched across her thighs caught on the building’s rough stones.

      Where to go? Tony won’t be satisfied until he makes an example of me. If he finds me, he’ll kill me just to show the other girls, she thought frantically.

      A sob caught in Gelina’s throat, choking off her air. She leaned her head back against the stones and closed her eyes. Oh, God! Oh, God! If You’re real, help me. Help me!

      White light from the car’s headlamps swept across her eyelids. They were turning in her direction. She was trapped! Fear writhed like a living thing in her stomach.

      The car started a slow crawl down the street toward her.

      No! Oh, God, no! I don’t want to die!

      With a spasmodic jerk, Gelina spun around and grabbed the knob on one of the double doors beside her. Her clammy hands slipped on the cold, polished brass. Locked!

      The hum of the car motor grew louder. Her heart bucked like a wild thing. She grabbed the other knob and gave it a violent twist. The latch clicked back as the gleam of the headlights threw her shadow against the painted wood. At that moment, she yanked the door open and leaped inside the building. She slammed the door closed and collapsed against it, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

      The hum of the powerful motor faded away down the street.

      “Good evening.”

      Gelina jerked upright and spun about.

      “I’m afraid the service has already started. But better late than never.” An elderly man smiled and handed her a leaflet. In the center of the cover was a large cross with the word Crossroads emblazoned on the horizontal bar.

      Hysterical laughter bubbled up into Gelina’s throat. She was in a church. Of all places! Tony would never—

      “We’re quite crowded because of our guest speaker, but if you’ll just come this way, I’ll have one of the ushers seat you.”

      The hysterical laughter died. Gelina stared