Shadow Bones. Colleen Rhoads

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Название Shadow Bones
Автор произведения Colleen Rhoads
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon Love Inspired
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408966044



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      Jake’s gaze swept her. “You’re Skye Blackbird, the medicine woman? You look too modern to believe in herbs and roots.”

      “A typically uninformed comment. If we give our bodies the natural substances God made for us, we’d all be a lot better off. Even an Indiana Jones type like you.”

      Instead of the comment irritating him like she’d planned, he grinned, a lazy smile full of self-confidence. “I’m glad you noticed.”

      Skye glared at Jake. “I’d like to persuade you to abandon the idea of digging here. You’ll disrupt my mining and destroy the environment in this area. There are less fragile places on the island to dig. I suggest you look around.”

      “I have a feeling about this spot,” Jake said. “It could be a huge discovery. I’m sorry you don’t approve, but your mother owns the land, so I don’t think you have anything to say about it.” The final sentence was uttered with a gentleness that didn’t extend to the grim look in his eyes.

      COLLEEN RHOADS

      loves to convey the compelling truth of God’s love and grace through her fiction. Colleen and her husband reside in Indiana when they’re not traveling the globe looking for new adventures to write about. Visit her Web site at www.colleencoble.com. She loves to hear from her readers! You can e-mail her at [email protected].

      Shadow Bones

      Colleen Rhoads

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      For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

      —II Timothy 1:7

      For New Life Baptist Church

       The place I’m most at home this side of heaven

      Dear Reader,

      I’ve always loved Indiana Jones and wanted to write an exciting male lead like him some day. I hope you like Jake Baxter as much as I liked writing him. He and Skye Blackbird make a good pair—once they figure it out!

      Ancient history has always interested me, and I love old secrets that play out in people’s lives. Though Eagle Island is imaginary, the Ojibwa legends and lore are very real. I’ve been fascinated with my research into the legends of the Great Lakes. I hope you enjoy the excursion! Watch for the third book in the Great Lakes Legends miniseries coming soon.

      I love hearing from my readers. Visit me at www.colleencoble.com and e-mail me at [email protected].

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      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

      Prologue

      Wilson New Moon hummed as he walked through the meadow with his balsam airplane. He loved to watch it soar into the clouds. Sometimes he was tempted to throw it with all his might and see if it could reach heaven.

      The preacher said God was in heaven, and Wilson was curious about that. Did God sit on a throne? Did He like balsam planes? A big man, Wilson knew he wasn’t smart like other men. He’d once heard a teacher say he’d always have the mental capacity of a twelve-year-old, but Wilson didn’t think that was so bad. Twelve was practically an adult.

      Wilson knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. The mine area was off-limits. That’s what his mother said. Wilson didn’t quite understand what off-limits was, but his mom said the mine was dangerous. He wasn’t a scaredy-cat, though. He loved this particular meadow in the springtime. Mushrooms would be popping up any day now. He could take what he found to the hunting shop in town and sell them for enough to buy material to make more planes. This one was getting tattered, and The Sleeping Turtle in town needed more of his creations to sell.

      He let the wind take the plane and shouted with exhilaration as it soared on the breeze. Capering in among the wildflowers, he screamed with the wind. He wished he could be a plane himself.

      By the middle of the afternoon, he was exhausted. He tucked his plane under his arm. Maybe he should leave it here instead of hauling it to his cabin. Wilson had seen a cave around here somewhere. He scrabbled through the underbrush.

      There it was. He uprooted a shrub and revealed the opening back into the mine. It was bigger than he remembered—big enough for him to explore.

      Smiling hugely, he got on all fours and crawled inside. This could be his hiding place. He could play tricks on other mushroom hunters from here and scare them away.

      He heard a sound, and his blood boomed in his ears. He looked behind him and saw a black face atop a figure dressed in black. White teeth bared, the creature reached for him.

      A scream tore from his throat, and Wilson backpedaled as quick as he could. It was Asibikaashi, the Spider Woman. Weaver of dreamcatchers, Asibikaashi had always terrified Wilson. Though the Ojibwa were encouraged to protect and revere her, he wanted nothing to do with anything that had eight legs.

      The shriek that issued from his mouth hurt his ears. He turned and ran for his life. Every moment he expected to feel the silken thread of the Spider Woman’s web entangle him and the sharp sting of her teeth entering his back. He didn’t dare look behind him as he ran for safety.

      Chapter One

      “Mother, what were you thinking?” Skye Blackbird wanted to stamp her size seven foot and proclaim this a hill she would die on, but one look at her mother’s face convinced her she’d be left bleeding on the hillside.

      She fought back the impulse to burst into tears. This was her father’s dream—and her own—that was about to vanish. Her mother had to listen to reason.

      She jerkily tied a knot in the dreamcatcher on her lap, but not even keeping her hands busy kept her emotions from churning her stomach into knots.

      Her shop, The Sleeping Turtle, was empty of customers this beautiful May morning. But even if tourists