Pamela Nissen - Rocky Mountain Proposal

Hope couldn’t move her gaze from his as his words settled over her. For some reason, instead of bringing her comfort, they annoyed her. How could Aaron think that he could take Paul’s place? Or that she needed his help?

“Take care of me?”

“I—I know this is awkward. It is for me, too, but I…well, it meant something to Paul when I promised to take care of you,” Aaron said. “I promised to hold on to Hope.” His voice broke. “In Paul’s mind, that meant that I’d marry you.”

Hope strained to keep her shock from contorting her face, but she was pretty sure that she failed—miserably.

How could he possibly think that she would want a marriage based on obligation? She’d rather be a spinster for the rest of her life….

loves creating. Whether it’s characters, cooking, scrapbooking or other artistic endeavors, she takes pleasure in putting things together for others to enjoy. She started writing her first book in 2000 and since then hasn’t looked back. Pamela lives in the woods in Iowa with her husband, daughter, two sons, a Newfoundland dog and cats. She loves watching her children pursue their dreams, and is known to yell on the sidelines at her boys’ games and being moved to tears as she watches her daughter perform. She enjoys scrapbooking weekends with her sister, coffee with friends and running in the rain. Having glimpsed the dark and light of life, she is passionate about writing “real” people with “real” issues and “real” responses.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.

—1 Corinthians 13:8

For Bill, my beloved

Your heart… Reaching wide as summer’s yawning horizon Glistening pure as winter’s white snow Standing steady as an oak tree come storm time Burning alive as autumn’s vibrant glow

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Steve and Gladys: your quaint farm and animals reside in the pages of this book. To my dear friends and family: thank you for your love and support. To Tina, Melissa and the Love Inspired family: thank you for being such a great team with which to work. To my critique partners, Diane, Jacquie and Roxanne: I am profoundly blessed by your amazing writing talent and your loyal friendship. To my wonderful children, MaryAnna, Noel and Elias: thank you for loving well, for caring deeply and for filling my life with laughter. And to my husband, Bill: thank you for being such a beautiful example of true love.

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

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Boulder, Colorado

1891

Aaron Drake slapped the leather reins, racing his team of horses faster over the dry and dusty road toward the train station. It seemed that all of Boulder was out this evening, moving at a snail’s pace through the city streets. His shirt was drenched in dirt and sweat from cutting down trees on this warm May day, but he took little notice as he kept his focus trained on the rutted street.

His good friend, Paul, had sent him to meet the five-forty train, although Aaron had no idea who or what was supposed to be waiting for him.

“Yee-haw! Get on!” he hollered to the team, swerving around a single horse carriage, parked off to the side of the road.

He swiped at beads of perspiration that trickled from beneath his straw hat not from heat but from the anxiety that had wrapped him tight.

Not more than three hours ago, Paul had been pinned beneath a felled tree. Aaron and his brothers, Ben and Zach, had been helping Paul harvest trees in order to build an addition onto his home. They’d been at it from sunup, chopping away at a record pace when the gigantic bur oak suddenly split three ways, barely missing Zach and pinning Paul beneath a section.

Now Paul was struggling to hang on to life, gasping for air even as he’d urged Aaron on to the train station.

Aaron hadn’t wanted to leave, but he’d been desperate to do something to help—especially as he recalled how many times Paul had been a lifesaving breath of encouragement in Aaron’s bleakest hours over the past months.

Hold on to hope….

Those words had come hard but insistent from Paul as he lay gulping in pain.

Aaron slapped the reins and whistled to the team, praying that Paul would take a turn for the better by the time he returned. Would God hear his plea this time? The past ten months had played out as one senseless tragedy after another, and Aaron had been hard-pressed to find God in the midst of it all. In the grand scheme of things, he had to wonder if there was still hope to be found.

He just didn’t know anymore. The day his newborn boy and his wife had died ten months ago had been the day a part of him had died, too.

Tugging his hat tighter over his forehead, Aaron kept his head low, avoiding the stares of several townsfolk. He rarely made an appearance outside work and church. He’d thrown himself into his job building fine pieces of furniture with his brother Joseph, and like so many of the buildings erected here in Boulder, he’d put on a respectable false front, keeping mostly to himself to avoid folks’ pitying remarks. Life was just easier that way.

He’d started doubting that the pain of his loss would ever fade. The ache was always with him. Deep down, he blamed himself. And he blamed God. He longed for relief from the crushing weight of it all yet felt helpless to help himself.

Just as he’d been powerless to help Paul.

Pulling on the reins, he slowed the team of horses, drawing them up to the hitching post at the Union Pacific Railroad Depot as he pushed his silent struggle aside. He set the brake and glanced at his pocket watch. He’d made good time but was still twenty minutes late to meet the five-forty. From the ghostly trail of coal smoke lingering in the late afternoon sky, the train had already departed.

Aaron tethered the team and strode up to the platform, glancing around. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. A package? A delivery of some sort? Maybe some distant relative come for a visit. Paul hadn’t been specific, and with the way he’d labored to get out the few words he had, Aaron hadn’t wanted to tax him for more information.

He jammed his hands into his pockets as images of the accident flashed through his mind. Clamping his jaw tight against the cavernous feeling of desperation, he dragged in a steadying breath and scanned the platform.