Monday Morning Faith (41 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

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BOOK: Monday Morning Faith
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Because of the abuse in her background, if mistreated women needed protection, Katie gave it, and Little Bush enforced it. Katie had been young, but she still remembered her mother's dying screams. They had been seared into her memory, and she vowed she would protect helpless women — with her own life if necessary — when she grew up.

Katie's thoughts returned to Warren. “What happens to the surviving animals?” She stepped back, allowing an emergency worker to pass.

He shook his head. “Overheard someone speculate they were on their way to the slaughterhouse.”

Katie's jaw dropped. Slaughterhouse! She knew these things happened, but … slaughterhouse?

“Why?”

“Why? Greed, of course.”

Katie had heard that animal byproducts was a huge business, but to see evidence of the cruelty turned her stomach. Sure, she was accused of taking in every stray that wandered her way, and if her house and yard were any indication of her being a pushover, she couldn't argue with the accusation. But horses, innocent animals, on their way to becoming glue or paste, or whatever they did with them, appalled her.

“How can they do that? The survivors. Where will they go? Who is going to take care of them till they heal?”

Warren shrugged. “If the rumors are true, they'll continue to their destination. If not, then I really don't know. Maybe they'll go to the humane society. I can't really say.”

“I want them.”

Warren glanced over. “You want them?”

“Yes. I want them if all that awaits them is the slaughterhouse. Who do I talk to?”

He shook his head, a grin shadowing the corners of his mouth. His clean-shaven features hadn't changed much over the years; his youthful complexion had cleared, but faded acne scars still shadowed his cheeks. Wall Street's pressure had done a job on him, folks said. Made him cynical. Sick of life. He pretty much stayed to himself, only going into town for groceries and supplies every couple of weeks.

He shifted. “I see the years haven't changed you.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning you're still a bleeding-heart trying to take care of the whole world.”

Katie shrugged. “And that's a bad thing?” That was most people's problem; because they couldn't take care of everything, they quit trying to take care of the things they could. Katie believed one person's efforts, regardless of how puny, made a difference, and she tried to live her life accordingly.

Katie's cell phone rang and she punched the on button. “Yes, this is Katie. Oh. Hi. Yes, I meant to call you this morning about the feed bill. I'll have the payment to you by morning — yes, in the morning. No later, Sue.” Katie flashed a lame grin in Warren's direction. “Yeah, can't really talk now. Thanks for calling.” She clicked the off button and resumed the conversation with Warren without missing a beat. “I really have to go. Who do I see about getting the animals?”

“You've got room for four near-dead horses?”

“I've got a barn and pasture. I'll make room.”

Shaking his head, Warren focused on the activity. “I haven't acquired injured horses on their way to the slaughterhouse, but I suppose if I was planning on it, I'd start by consulting Ben O'Keefe. Most likely he can trace the owner's name, maybe talk to the people at USDA or the humane society.”

“Ben?” Her eyes tracked the sheriff, busy trying to redirect traffic. “You think he'd help?” Not likely. She and Ben had been at sword's point since the night all those years ago when he'd failed to show up for their high school prom. The man had stood her up. She didn't hold grudges, but neither had she necessarily treated him cordially since that humiliating evening so long ago. She wasn't sure he would be overly eager to help her, though lately he'd been teasing her about dating. As if she'd date a man she couldn't trust. She hadn't stayed single all of her thirty-six years by practicing stupidity. Like Warren, she'd known Ben most of her life, but the two boys — at least at the time they were boys — were as different as rain and fire. Warren, though a nerd, had always been kind, courteous, with dark complexion and dark eyes, while Ben had rugged features, ruddy complexion, and unruly curly red hair. Feisty features — maddening features when she was sitting in a prom gown waiting for the man to show up. Warren's voice broke into her thoughts. “You'd have to pay the person who owns them something, I suppose — though if they're injured enough, he might pay you to take them off his hands.”

Katie shrugged and scribbled down the information on a notepad. “Thanks, Warren. Good to see you back.”

“No problem.” He tipped his Stetson. “I suppose your lady guest has an escort with her?”

Ah yes, this woman would have high security. Katie had been reluctant to take this particular case. She wouldn't have if a college schoolmate-turned-judge hadn't pleaded with her to give the woman temporary shelter and anonymity, the latter being of utmost importance. Elections were coming up, and if word spread that the party candidate was married to a wife beater, the party could lose a Senate seat. Katie's shelter only held three — no more than four women at the most, and with this celebrity arrival the house was full.

“She's with an escort. I'll phone and tell them I'm running late.” Katie turned to thread her way through the onlookers and emergency vehicles. “Oh!” She whirled and cupped her hands to her mouth to be heard above the crowd. “Hey Ben?”

The sheriff was immersed in the rescue efforts, and she had to yell twice before she got his attention. “Yo?”

“If I get permission to take the horses to the ranch, can you haul them for me?” She knew he had all sorts of stock trailers, big and small. She'd had one several years back, but it was out of commission now, and it only hauled one horse.

Katie wasn't surprised when Ben's usual edginess with her flared. “Katie Addison, before you can take care of the world, you'd better take care of yourself!”

“Yada yada! Can you haul my horses?”

Eyes the color of cool summer ponds met hers. Katie held her breath. Even she realized the audacity of her request. Why would this man give her the time of day when she probably wouldn't have reciprocated? But he could easily say no. And he never gave up on asking her for a date. Two weeks ago, they happened to land side by side in stadium bleachers at the local Legion high school ball game, and he tried to entice her, or she supposed. “Want to get a hot dog afterwards?” constituted his idea of a date. She had refused, yet her pride had not kept her from eating half of his bag of popcorn.

Warren trailed Katie. “I'll haul them for you.”

She turned. “You will?”

If he was being polite, the geek-turned-prince was too much of a neighbor to retract the offer. He nodded. “If you manage to get the horses, give me a call.”

“Thanks!” She tossed him a salute, then cupped her hands and called to Ben. “Never mind!”

He barely glanced her way as he continued to divert traffic.

Katie bolted for the jeep. Her guest's plane had landed over thirty minutes ago.

Inside the vehicle, she turned the ignition key, her eyes catching sight of the gold bracelet Grandpops had given her his last Christmas on earth. The thin chain had one tiny charm that read, “Expect a miracle.”

She'd need a miracle to get those horses, but she was going to try like blue blazes to pull it off. How hard could it be? Adopting horses on their way to doom?

Where would she get the money if the owner required cash?

Starting the jeep, she decided she'd see if Ben would help her locate the horses' owner before she started worrying about finances.

Warren turned and watched Katie drive out of sight. She hadn't changed an iota over the years. Blonde hair still worn in a chin length cut, hazel eyes, taller than most women. She was easily still the prettiest girl in Little Bush, and still determined to save the world. Katie had been the champion of the underdog since kindergarten. He'd admired her for her faith in people back then, but years spent trying to survive in the real world had taught him that very few cared about anything except advancing their own agenda. Apparently Katie Addison hadn't learned that yet. In his opinion, bad choices run in families. Katie's mom and fraternal grandmother had been involved with abusive men — Katie's mom had died at the hands of one, and Katie was determined to keep her private women's shelter open when obviously money was tight.

What did it take to shake her faith? A Wyoming tsunami?

Warren glanced at the disappearing jeep. If it was possible, he'd get those horses for Katie. Not because he had any interest in her personally — he'd had his fill of females, especially independent females, which described Katie Addison to a tee.

But horses were a different story. For horses, he would compromise his convictions to stay far, far away from females. All females.

Simple Gifts

Lori Copeland

Can anything else go wrong? Marlene Queens goes home to Parness Springs, Missouri, to put her late Aunt Beth's house on the market and settle the estate. But once she's back home, Marlene suddenly find herself in over her head. Her Aunt Ingrid grows more demanding by the day. Marlene discovers her childhood sweetheart is now the local vet and the town's acting mayor. And when a group of citizens want to put up a statue in memory of Marlene's father — the parent who always embarrassed her as a child — Marlene is unwillingly swept into a firestorm of controversy.

As one thing leads to another, Marlene sees her entire life being rearranged before her eyes. Parness Springs may never be the same. Marlene fears that the secret she's kept for years may be revealed. Can God work a miracle so she can finally have the future she's longed for?

Softcover: 978-0-310-26350-6

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