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    The Preacher's Outlaw Bride
    The Preacher's Outlaw Bride
    The Preacher's Outlaw Bride
    Ebook281 pages4 hours

    The Preacher's Outlaw Bride

    By Mildred Colvin

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    A pretend wedding gives eight-year-old KodyAnne the assurance that even the Orphan Train cannot separate her from Michael forever. Their love transcends time until her father, a banker, and a sheriff change their lives.

    With her father dead and her brother a wanted man, KodyAnne brings her younger sister to Willow Springs where she discovers Michael is the pastor of the only church. She has never stopped loving him, but is convinced he doesn’t care the same for her and determines she will not allow him to give up his freedom for her a second time. She must get possession of her family’s lockbox, but the bank won’t give it to her. She has two choices, wait for the court system she believes is corrupt to get it for her or enter the bank after hours and take it. She decides there is only one choice.

    Michael, the local minister, has loved KodyAnne since before they rode the Orphan Train together years ago. He feels manipulated by her father’s deathbed request that he marry her, but sets his feelings aside only to have her reject his proposal. Now, he’s determined to change her mind, but outlaws threaten her family, and a treasure hunt threatens the very basis of their relationship until Michael wonders if their love is strong enough to endure.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMildred Colvin
    Release dateSep 11, 2012
    ISBN9781301457397
    The Preacher's Outlaw Bride
    Author

    Mildred Colvin

    Mildred Colvin is a wife, mother of three, and grandmother to three beautiful girls. She started writing when her children were young as they asked for stories. Not from a book. No! They were only satisfied when she made up stories. As the stories grew, she wrote some down and sent them off to magazines. Eight were published before her imagination turned toward love stories, which is what she enjoys reading.She has been writing Christian or clean and wholesome romance since 2001. Over the years several readers from pre-teens to older kids in their eighties and nineties have written expressing their interest in her books. She always loves to hear about one of her stories touching someone's heart. Her purpose in writing is to encourage, entertain, and bless someone else.She lives in the United States and sets her characters in the middle states from Texas to Nebraska and Iowa and reaching across Illinois to Colorado. She also has an Oregon Trail series, but the Great Plains states are her favorite setting.She is active in a very special critique group and has written and published over 60 books in both historical and contemporary themes, and plans to continue writing as long as God allows. He has been good in giving her many ideas for stories. Maybe more than she will be able to finish, but she enjoys each one.Please take a moment to visit her website at www.mildredcolvin.weebly.com, and sign up for her Romantic Reflections Newsletter to learn when new books are released. Also learn of promotions and free books through her newsletter.And take a look at her books. You might find something you don't want to put down.

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      Book preview

      The Preacher's Outlaw Bride - Mildred Colvin

      The Preacher’s Outlaw Bride

      ~~~~~

      Mildred Colvin

      with

      Jonathan Colvin

      Historical Christian Romance

      The Preacher’s Outlaw Bride

      Copyright © 2012 by Mildred Colvin

      Smashwords Edition

      All rights reserved.

      Cover Photo © Philcold|Dreamstime.com

      © Dmitriy Cherevko|Dreamstime.com

      Scripture portions are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      DEDICATION

      To the little girl we call KodyAnne. Thank you for letting us borrow your nickname and maybe a bit of your personality for the KodyAnne in this book. Our prayer is that you grow into the woman God wants you to be. We love you, KodyAnne.

      Prologue

      New York City, 1881

      KodyAnne grinned at her tall, handsome hero as he shifted from foot to foot. He could fidget all he wanted to, but he was still brave and strong. Soon as they were married, he’d be hers no matter where that train took them. She didn’t care if they were getting married in the dusty old orphanage basement. Or that they had to hide behind the monster coal furnace with its huge arms running along the ceiling over them. Even her bestest friend, Keirra, looking at the door every two seconds with her blue eyes all wide and scared looking, wouldn’t stop this wedding. Her other bestest friend, Jessica, didn’t look frightened at all. She looked bored, but KodyAnne didn’t care about anything except Michael and his promise to never forget her. She loved him with every bit of her eight-year-old heart.

      Preacher peered past them toward the steps leading upstairs and cleared his throat. He was as bad as Keirra, thinking Miss Harris would catch ’em and make ’em sit in the corner.

      Someone clomped down the stairs, and KodyAnne swung to look, her heart nearly choking her. Mike’s new friend, Brian, skidded to a halt. Sorry, I’m late. Go ahead.

      KodyAnne giggled and Preacher frowned. So we’re all here now to see this man and this woman get hitched in holy macaroni. Do you take this woman to be your own awful married wife?

      When the groom didn’t answer, Preacher shoved him. Hey, Mike, I asked you a question. You’re s’posed to answer.

      Michael scowled. How’d I know you was talkin’ to me?

      Who else’d I be talkin’ to? Preacher frowned right back. So answer me. You marryin’ her or not? Say, ‘I do.’

      I do. Michael’s feet shuffled, and he stared at the floor.

      KodyAnne’s heart raced as those two words gave her courage. Of course Preacher wasn’t a real preacher. That’s just what everyone called him because he carried a Bible and talked about the stories he read in it. But his pa had been a real preacher, so he was the best they could find to help them get married.

      She touched Michael’s hand, and he didn’t pull away. She slipped her fingers around his. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, so she didn’t let go. He was her Mike. Her very own. Nobody was going to separate them now. Not for long.

      How about you, KodyAnne? Preacher smiled at her. Do you take this man?

      Oh yes, I do. KodyAnne wanted to jump in place and clap her hands. She might have, too, but even more, she wanted to hold on to Mike.

      Well then, I guess you’re hitched. Preacher stuck his hand out for Michael to shake. Oh wait, ain’t ya gonna put that ring you been keepin’ on her finger?

      KodyAnne looked at Jessica. Preacher did, too. Keirra poked Jessica with her elbow. Jessica jumped and looked from one to the other with her eyes wide. What? I didn’t do anything.

      Preacher groaned and hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. You got the ring, Jess, you ninny, give it to Mike.

      Oh, okay. Jessica rolled her eyes and thrust the ring at Michael.

      Michael took it only long enough to push it toward KodyAnne. Here, put it on.

      KodyAnne’s stomach jiggled like the pudding they had for lunch. She’d never seen a prettier ring. She reached for it, but Keirra snatched it before she could touch it.

      Hey, that’s mine.

      Jessica’s hands landed on her hips as she scowled at Keirra. What’d you take KodyAnne’s ring for?

      Keirra pulled her hair ribbon out, letting her thick, light brown hair fall to her shoulders. That ring’s too big for her. She threaded the ribbon through the ring, tied the ends together, and handed it back to Michael. Now, put it around her neck like you’re s’posed to. Then kiss her.

      Michael took the ring and huffed. I’ll put it around her neck, but I ain’t gonna kiss her.

      KodyAnne glared at Keirra from the corner of her eyes while Michael slipped the ribbon over her head. He doesn’t have to kiss me. He’s my husband, and that’s all that counts.

      Air rushed from his lungs when Michael stepped back.

      KodyAnne giggled and turned to her two best friends who grabbed her in a three-way hug. They all jumped and squealed together.

      Brian and Preacher, Michael’s best friends, punched Michael on the arms. Brian shook his head. Man, you’re crazy.

      Michael shrugged.

      What are you kids doing down there? The scratchy, high voice belonged to Miss Harris, one of the teachers for the younger girls. She held the door open to the hall upstairs. Get up these steps this instant. I’ve a good mind to keep you from going on that orphan train out West to find a new ma and pa. And you know I could do it, too. You’ve got little enough time to get ready before the wagon comes for you.

      The six children, ranging from seven to eleven years of age, ran for the stairs. They’d accomplished what they set out to do. KodyAnne had the assurance of Michael’s devotion. He wouldn’t have married her if he planned to forget her. They might go out west and be separated for a while, but now they were married, Michael would find her when they were all grown up.

      She slipped her ring inside her dress and flashed a smile at him. He better, ’cause that’s what he promised. Quick, before he could get away, she left a kiss on his cheek, then dashed up the stairs ahead of him.

      Chapter 1

      Western Kansas, twelve years later

      KodyAnne Delmont stopped her horse at the edge of town with Papa and her older brother, Tyler. She sat sideways, which wasn’t an easy trick on a western saddle. Papa said she shouldn’t wear her trousers in town, and her skirt was too snug for decency if she rode astride, so she had no choice. Good thing she only had to walk Pistol half the length of Willow Spring’s main street. Only as far as the bank.

      Papa looked from her to Tyler. Remember, if we’re separated, we’ll meet at the willow tree. Don’t pull your gun, Tyler, unless you have to.

      Papa. KodyAnne frowned. Why was he talking about guns and being separated? Nothing’s going to go wrong. It’s your box. Won’t they give it to you? I mean, Uncle Mark said you should take it, didn’t he? You even have the key.

      His smile showed signs of strain in the creases by his mouth. Don’t you worry about a thing, Kody girl. We’ll get it somehow. Tyler, let’s go.

      KodyAnne watched them ride off at a slow, steady walk. Their horses’ tails swished from side to side. She counted to twenty, smoothed her hands down the sides of her violet taffeta dress, and took a deep breath. Papa said for her to wait before she followed them. She’d stay outside and watch their horses. Later, he’d promised them breakfast at the diner across the street.

      She patted Pistol’s neck. Come on, fella, let’s go now.

      Papa and Tyler stopped in front of Kansas State Bank and dismounted. They looped their reins once around the hitching post. A quick tug and they’d be free. A trick her outlaw Uncle Mark showed her once. He said it was what they did to make a quick getaway. Her heart pounded. Surely they didn’t have a reason to use it today. Papa and Tyler weren’t outlaws. Of course not. She was being silly because of Papa’s talk of guns and telling her not to worry. The bank door closed behind them. She guided Pistol to a stop beside Tyler’s horse.

      From her perch on Pistol, KodyAnne glanced around the sleepy little town. An old man swept the boardwalk a couple of stores away.

      Another man crossed the dusty street but didn’t look in her direction. The diner across the street either hadn’t come to life yet or the people in this town weren’t as hungry as she was. But maybe they were all inside eating. A rumble in her middle brought her attention back to the bank. What was taking them so long? Would it hurt so much if she peeked inside?

      She slipped her foot from the stirrup and gave a quick jump, landing beside her horse in one graceful movement. Most of the stores were only now opening, but Papa always liked to do his business early.

      She could ground tie Pistol and he’d stay, but she followed Tyler’s and Papa’s example with one loop around the post. She took her purse from her saddlebag, stepped on the boardwalk, and walked to the bank door.

      With a twist of the doorknob, she entered the spacious lobby. This place was as quiet as the rest of the town. There were no customers other than Papa and Tyler at the teller’s window. Only one employee appeared to be working until an older man wearing a suit came out of his office with a scowl on his face. Is there a problem here?

      This gentleman says he’s Mark Delmont, and he wants to get into his safety deposit box. I told him we need proof he’s who he says he is before we can allow the box to be opened. He has a key, says that’s all the proof he needs.

      Papa said he was Uncle Mark? Why? KodyAnne’s fingers tightened on her purse. What was he doing?

      Unfortunately, sir, a key isn’t enough. Mr. Davis is correct. Anyone can steal a key, now can’t they? The rotund man wore a superior smile. Probably the bank president. He pulled a sheet of paper from the teller’s cage. If you’ll just sign this form, we’ll compare it with the signature you left when you secured the box. If there’re no discrepancies, we’ll allow you to open the box.

      Papa sighed. Give me a pen.

      Pop—

      One look from Papa silenced Tyler.

      KodyAnne stepped to a tall desk in the middle of the floor and opened her purse. She tried to concentrate on the contents, but her mind remained fixed on the scene across the room. Something had gone wrong. She sorted through the accumulation in her purse that should’ve been cleaned out long ago. With trembling fingers, she pushed a dime novel aside.

      Papa shouldn’t be signing Uncle Mark’s name as if it were his own. But he’d already said he was Uncle Mark. Confusion clouded her mind. Would he go to jail if his writing didn’t match Uncle Mark’s? Had Papa ever even seen Uncle Mark’s signature?

      She tried to remember Uncle Mark’s writing. The tall, handsome outlaw came to mind bringing a smile to her lips. He’d always handed out licorice sticks and peppermint to her and her siblings when he came calling. She’d never seen him without a smile on his face. Thinking about him getting shot down still made her want to cry.

      One of the men gasped. Why these signatures are nothing alike.

      KodyAnne swung toward the teller’s voice.

      Let me see that. The bigger man grabbed the two papers from his employee. His lips twisted upward, and he lifted his eyes toward Papa.

      KodyAnne gasped when Papa pulled his gun and held it on the smirking man. Is this proof enough?

      The man’s facial features sagged. His skin took on a sickly white cast. N-now there’s no need for that, mister. We have to follow the r-rules. Let’s put the gun away.

      Tyler followed Papa’s example and held his gun on the teller. Maybe you better come out from behind your bird cage.

      What had Papa done? KodyAnne’s heart pounded as, before her eyes, her gentle father and shy brother turned into outlaws. They should’ve covered their faces. Now if anyone came into the bank, they’d know what they looked like. Of course those two men would anyway, but they were strangers. Oh, what was she thinking? They’d all been so worried about making ends meet ever since Mama passed on. Papa wasn’t thinking right, and neither was she. She held her breath.

      She scarcely knew what to do now. She stepped to the outside door and looked out, pretending she hadn’t noticed the robbery about to take place. Maybe those men would open the safe and Papa would put his gun away. She watched out the door’s window. If someone decided to come in, she’d distract them until Papa and Tyler got away. After all, they weren’t robbing the bank. All they wanted was what rightfully belonged to them.

      Get my box and do it now. Papa’s voice growled out at the same time a man outside turned toward the bank. Oh dear, something about him looked familiar. If he recognized her, he might know Papa or Tyler. She couldn’t let him see them.

      The men’s voices rumbled behind her as she concentrated on the man. She snapped her purse closed and jerked the door open before he could. If she could step in front of him and block his view—

      Her eyes flew open wide, and she squealed.

      It’s him, Papa. It’s my husband. She launched herself at Mike, the boy she’d married so long ago all grown up. At last he’d found her. She’d waited twelve years, and here he was when she wasn’t even thinking about him.

      ~*~

      Michael Wellington grabbed the young woman to keep her from falling. What caused her to scream that way? He pulled her to the side and peered into the bank. Two men stood with guns aimed at the teller, Mr. Davis, and the bank president, Mr. Grimes. All four men stared at him and the woman who trembled against him.

      A robbery in progress. No wonder she screamed and practically collapsed at his feet. Okay, in his arms might be more accurate. She leaned her head against his shoulder and gave him a beautiful smile. Her eyes were a deep brown, like the chocolate bar his folks gave him for Christmas one year.

      He had to save her. Come on, Miss. We need to get you away from here before the lead starts flying.

      It’s all right. She let him guide her across the boardwalk. They won’t shoot anyone.

      Poor girl. She must be frightened out of her mind. Bank robbers didn’t carry guns just for appearance sake. They’d shoot all right, especially if someone got in their way.

      Homer! Michael called to the first man who came close enough. Run and get the sheriff. The bank’s being robbed.

      Ya don’t say? The man hesitated only a moment before taking off in a run.

      No, don’t get the law. She pulled away and started back to the bank. I’ll tell them to leave.

      Fright did strange things to women. Still Michael didn’t remember ever seeing one try to go back and face certain danger. He caught her hand and tromped across the dirt street.

      Let me go. She kicked at him, but he stepped out of the way just in time.

      Lady, would ya stop fighting me? I’m trying to save your life.

      Her fist landed a stinging blow on his arm. I said to let me go, Mike, and I meant it. We can talk later. I’ve got to tell them the sheriff’s coming.

      He tightened his hold on her. No, you’re not. They’d shoot you before you could get the words out.

      Her easy use of his name surprised Michael. Only family and close friends called him Mike. Everyone else said Michael or Reverend or Preacher if they didn’t call him Brother Wellington. Again, those warm brown eyes nagged at his memory. She acted as if she knew him. Surely, they’d met somewhere. But where?

      She jerked away from him and turned back.

      He shook his head. She was a determined little thing. He snagged her before she reached the boardwalk and hoisted her over his shoulder. Now settle down, and I’ll get you to safety.

      She kicked and beat his back something fierce, but Michael lugged the squirming woman across the dirt street and into Melanie’s Diner. Melanie! He called toward the back. Can you help me here?

      What’ve you done, Reverend? Melanie hustled past the empty tables to the front. She chuckled. I’ve heard tell the cavemen used to catch their women and bring them home thatta way. But this ain’t your cave and our modern laws might not uphold this kind of marriage vow.

      The little spitfire on Michael’s shoulder twisted and yelled out. Let me go.

      He set her down. Fine, at least you’re out of danger as long as you stay in— Hey, get back here. She was like a jack rabbit at the end of his gun site.

      She jerked the door open before he could catch her.

      Miss, you can’t go out there. You’ll get shot. Michael rushed out and grabbed her at the edge of the boardwalk. Was she crazy? He had her now, and he was determined she wouldn’t get away again.

      The bank door opened and one of the robbers burst through. The man ran halfway across the street toward the diner, yelling something that sounded like, Cody.

      The crazy girl strained against Michael’s hold. No. Don’t worry about me. The sheriff’s coming. I’m sorry. You’ve got to go.

      The outlaw glared at Michael. You better not hurt her.

      When the second outlaw ran out of the bank, the girl yelled with her hands cupping her mouth. I’m okay. The sheriff’s coming. Go.

      The other man nodded and yelled at the first one. They both ran for the horses waiting at the hitching rail and jumped on them. They were getting away. Where was Clint? A shot rang out and the two men took off.

      Michael pulled the woman back into the diner, releasing an appealing scent of lilacs. What was he doing rescuing an outlaw’s woman? She didn’t look it in her fancy clothes, but she must be with them.

      Help me, Mike. Her large chocolate eyes shimmered with tears and melted his heart. That’s my papa and my brother. Please, Mike, stop the sheriff from shooting them. Don’t let him kill them.

      He looked down into his past and lost all sense of reason. His mind flew backward across the years to the first time those beautiful brown eyes implored him. She was an orphan like him, homeless on the streets of New York City. She’d looked up at him with those same pleading eyes and said, Please, make ’em stop hurtin’ me.

      She was only seven years old then. The prettiest little girl he’d ever seen.

      The realization of who she was punched him in the gut. Andy? He cleared his throat. KodyAnne. Is it you?

      She nodded and another tear fell.

      His mind churned as what little sense he had disappeared. He clenched his jaw. All right. I’ll do what I can. You stay here.

      He turned to where Melanie stood watching. Don’t let her outside.

      Michael pushed the door open and stepped out where no sane man would go. Bullets flew from one end of the street to the other, sending everyone else ducking for cover. He strode forward as a gun barked. An answering bullet whined over his head. He dropped to the street and searched for Clint. There he was, sheltered by the corner of a parked wagon. He needed to circle around, come up behind him.

      Smoke puffed from Clint’s gun and a man cried out.

      Michael turned to see one of the men clutch his chest and fall from his horse while the other galloped away.

      A woman screamed, and KodyAnne ran past. Papa!

      He wasn’t close enough to catch her.

      She lifted her skirt above her ankles and ran down the boardwalk then jumped over the side and took off down the street, yelling, Papa, no.

      The outlaw lay where he’d fallen. Michael ran toward KodyAnne. His fingers brushed her shoulder, but she jerked from him so he held only air. She fell to the ground beside the outlaw and took his hand in hers. Michael crouched beside her, ready to shield her from danger.

      Oh, Papa, why? She sobbed into their clasped hands.

      The outlaw’s eyes opened. Love for his daughter shone from his expression, reassuring Michael. At least KodyAnne had known a father’s love.

      Hey, little Kody, don’t cry. Here, take my other hand. I’ll be all right. His words were comforting, but his voice lacked strength.

      KodyAnne took his hand in hers as a message seemed to pass between them. No, Papa, no. She squeezed his hand, laid it on his chest, then opened her purse and rummaged in it as if looking for a handkerchief.

      What’s going on here? The sheriff spoke behind them. "I need to take this man in. Ma’am, I’ll need

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