Rachel forced her legs to move—a feat which took more will than she’d wished.
She walked to the open barn doors and stared unseeing into the yard beyond. She needed distance. She couldn’t think with him up close. He was like a strange poison that flooded her bloodstream and invaded her mind.
It was ridiculous, this unwarranted response to him. She didn’t know this man from Adam. He had barged into her life, a stranger she knew nothing about, bringing the worst news possible, and yet … yet he was the only lifeline she had at the moment.
Wasn’t that just her luck?
I’ve always been a sucker for a good redemption story. There’s a strange kind of appeal in taking a damaged character (or in this case two!) and giving him a second chance to shine. Caleb and Rachel did not disappoint me in this regard. It was great fun putting these two through the wringer and seeing them come out the other side.
SALVATION IN THE RANCHER’S ARMS began its life as my first NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) book, and remains one of my favourites. I hope you’ll enjoy reading about Caleb and Rachel’s journey as much as I enjoyed writing about it.
Salvation in the Rancher’s Arms
Kelly Boyce
KELLY BOYCE can’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing stories. In 2002 she joined the RWA and Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada. Shortly thereafter she was one of the featured writers in a documentary about the romance-writing industry entitled Who’s Afraid of Happy Endings?
A life-long Nova Scotian, she lives near the Atlantic Ocean with her husband and a clownish golden retriever with a stubborn streak a mile wide.
This is Kelly Boyce’s amazing debut novel for Mills & Boon® Historical Romance!
In memory of my grandfather, Malcolm Lavers—a great man and a true hero.
Contents
AUTHOR NOTE
Dedication
Colorado Territory, 1876
Salvation Falls was like a hundred other towns Caleb Beckett had ridden into over the years, with its faded storefronts and hopeful name, likely conjured up by settlers who had great things in mind, only to be disappointed by the harsh realities of life.
People mixed and mingled on the streets and planked sidewalks as the buckboard he rode jostled over the ruts in the dirt road. A few stopped to glance up at him. He could feel the shift in the air the further into town he went. It was subtle at first, but soon grew to a deep murmur that buzzed like a hive of angry bees.
He guessed that could happen when a stranger arrived in town with a coffin loaded in the back of his buckboard.
Caleb’s eyes scanned the storefront signs. They were all the same. Mercantile, hardware, footwear, sundries and saloons. He knew from experience that down near the end of the road he’d find a livery and the butcher, probably a blacksmith or two. It never changed.
He’d spent time in a town just like this, and drifted into even more after leaving it. And if there was one thing he’d noticed, as he moved on from one to the next, it was the similarity of it all. People all wanting the same thing: a decent place to call home, somewhere to belong, a sense of control over their destinies.
He had wanted that once, too. But he’d learned his lesson on that account.
The sheriff’s office loomed ahead on the corner where a side street intersected the main road.