A Hidden Heaven
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About this ebook
What if you were a ghost and didn’t know it?
Daniel Woods is passing through the timeless and mysterious Appalachian Mountains on his way to Kentucky and his inheritance. A misstep tumbles him and his horse down the side of a mountain. Battered and bruised, they come upon a small homestead and help in the form of the lovely Justine Noakes. Daniel immediately finds himself inexplicably attracted to Justine - and determined not to embarrass himself by acting on impulse.
Justine Noakes recognizes the blue-eyed trouble that just led his horse into her settled world is something she never bargained for. Irresistibly drawn to him, Justine has a problem. She needs to come up with a way to get Daniel to stay in her mountain aerie. The only way that can happen is if Daniel accepts his new reality.
What Justine knows, and Daniel must discover, is that sometimes heaven is found in unexpected places.
* * *
Trouble had arrived in the form of a lone man leading a lame horse.
Justine Noakes glanced over at Duke. The dog was standing, ears and tail at attention, staring down the long meadow. Now was not the time for the hound to start baying. She had the top off one of her hives, harvesting the honeycomb. The honeybees were docile as long as she moved slowly and gently. She carefully eased the lid back in place and stepped away from the hive allowing the few honeybees still clinging to her to disembark.
“Get on the porch,” she ordered the dog. Duke growled low in his throat.
“Go on.” She tugged at his collar. He resisted at first then trotted obediently towards the cabin.
She entered her small cabin and pulled her Derringer from under her pillow and slipped it into her pocket. It was not the weapon she preferred, but greeting the stranger with a loaded Colt .45 might stir the man’s temper.
Duke sat quietly on the porch when she emerged from the cabin. The animal had excellent people sense and his posture was a reassuring sign.
The approaching stallion limped painfully and the stranger stopped to allow the animal to rest. Whatever had happened, the man must have hope the horse would recover. Men didn’t walk a lame horse through these mountains in search of help. They simply shot the beast and obtained another mount.
She told Duke to stay and went to the well to draw a fresh bucket of water for the man. She had just set it on the porch steps when the duo moved again.
The man was close enough now that Justine could get a good look at him. He was a tall, well over six feet. Dark hair curled on his collar and several days’ growth of dark beard covered his cheeks. He was dusty, dirty and visibly weary, his proud shoulders slumped. Instead of wearing his gun belt, it was looped over the saddle horn. He removed his hat and his intensely blue gaze swept her from head to toe.
She hoped she passed inspection, because if he looked at her like that again, it would be a toss-up between shooting him or letting Duke have some fun running him off her place.
Either that or she was going to turn all feminine and girly and fall at his feet, in which case maybe she’d have to shoot herself to end her embarrassment.
“Ma’am. I’m not looking for mischief.” His deep, ragged voice spoke of his fatigue and stirred her sympathy for the struggling travelers. “I need a place to care for my horse for a few days. I’ll work in return for you allowing me and him to sleep in your barn.”
“What’s your name?” Not that knowing his name would help if he were lying or bent on mischief. With his looks she no doubt he had trouble looking for him on a nightly basis when he was in a town.
“Daniel. Daniel Woods.”
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A Hidden Heaven - Rayne Forrest
———————————————
A Hidden Heaven
––––––––
by
––––––––
Rayne Forrest
———————————————
Previously published under the title, Skipping Heaven.
This book is a work of fiction. While references to actual places or events may occur, the names, characters, incidents and locations are from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is coincidental.
––––––––
A Hidden Heaven - Copyright © 2015 Rayne Forrest
Cover Copyright © 2015 Rayne Forrest
––––––––
All Rights Reserved
White Deer Enterprises/White Deer Books
Reproduction of this digital e-book for file-sharing or selling, regardless of whether
any type of currency is exchanged, other than what the author grants, is strictly
prohibited by law. Piracy is a crime.
WARNING: This book is intended for mature readers over the age of 18.
It contains explicit sexual content and language.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Appalachian Mountains, 1900
Daniel Woods battled the last few uphill steps to the crest of the ridge and bent over to catch his breath. The deep green of the majestic Allegheny Mountains lay before him and he breathed a relieved sigh.
Zeus snorted and nudged him. The stallion seemed equally glad to have made it up the steep hill and anxious to be moving. Daniel stood and stretched until his spine made little popping noises. He groaned with relief as he flexed his aching shoulders while looking around the area. The top of the ridge sported a few scrubby pines and a spot of green about a hundred yards to the south. That green meant a mountaintop spring. He started walking.
Come on, horse. Let’s go get a drink.
The stallion followed, still snorting. Daniel patted the muscled shoulder, darkened with sweat.
They’d left their home on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay just two weeks ago, traveling slowly. It was a long trek to Kentucky, and the legacy Daniel’s uncle had left him. He was determined not to tire Zeus, settling for a slow twenty or so miles a day. The land in Kentucky wasn’t going anywhere and Zeus was too valuable to ride to exhaustion. The chestnut stallion would stand at stud over the breeding herd Daniel hoped to acquire and develop.
A movement to his left stopped him in his tracks and he dropped the reins. Zeus was well trained and stood, large hooves planted. Daniel slowly pulled his carbine from the scabbard and sighted the pheasant. One quick shot and dinner was bagged as more birds lifted from the brush. A small rabbit darted away, its ears plastered back.
Game in the area was a good sign that the spring was pure. He selected a spot that boasted as near to shade as there was to be had and pulled the saddle off the stallion. Something about this plateau called to him and even though it was still early in the day he decided to rest a bit before starting down the other side of the mountain.
He started a fire, cleaned and spitted the bird, then gave Zeus a quick brush and checked his hooves. The grazing wasn’t too plentiful, so he gave the stallion a few precious handfuls of grain. The bag was about three-quarters gone. Daniel’s map showed a few homesteads and towns along the trail and he hoped to purchase more at one of those small places.
Two hours later, his meal of roasted pheasant making for a contented belly, he saddled Zeus and returned to the trail. He gave Zeus his head as they started down the steep hillside, trusting the sure-footed beast to step carefully.
The condition of the trail rapidly deteriorated. The stallion’s hooves sent bits of shale sliding and clattering down the side of the mountain. Daniel spotted a wider spot a few hundred feet ahead. He’d dismount when they reached there and walk the rest of the way down instead of expecting the horse to balance them both.
They didn’t get that far.
The ground gave way, sliding from beneath Zeus’ hooves and the horse stumbled, going to his knees. Daniel pulled up sharply on the reins. The stallion’s muscles bunched beneath him. His head came up, his hindquarters dropped. The shale under them crumbled and they fell.
* * * *
Trouble had arrived in the form of a lone man leading a lame horse.
Justine Noakes glanced over at Duke. The dog was standing, ears and tail at attention, staring down the long meadow. Now was not the time for the hound to start baying. She had the top off one of her hives, harvesting the honeycomb. The honeybees were docile as long as she moved slowly and gently. She carefully eased the lid back in place and stepped away from the hive allowing the few honeybees still clinging to her to disembark.
Get on the porch,
she ordered the dog. Duke growled low in his throat.
Go on.
She tugged at his collar. He resisted at first then trotted obediently towards the cabin. Justine picked up her crock of honeycomb and followed.
She entered her small cabin and pulled her Derringer from under her pillow and slipped it into her pocket. It was not the weapon she preferred, but greeting the stranger with a loaded Colt .45 might stir the man’s temper.
Duke sat quietly on the porch when she emerged from the cabin. The animal had excellent people sense and his posture was a reassuring sign.
The approaching stallion limped painfully and the stranger stopped to allow the animal to rest. Justine pitied the poor beast. Whatever had happened, the man must have hope the horse would recover. Men didn’t walk a lame horse through these mountains in search of help. They simply shot the beast and obtained another mount.
She told Duke to stay and went to the well to draw a fresh bucket of water for the man. She had just set it on the porch steps when the duo moved again. Another warning growl rumbled in Duke’s throat.
The man was close enough now that Justine could get a good look at him. He was a tall, well over six feet. Dark hair curled on his collar and several days’ growth of dark beard covered his cheeks. He was dusty, dirty and visibly weary, his proud shoulders slumped. Instead of wearing his gun belt, it was looped over the saddle horn. He removed his hat and his intensely blue gaze swept her from head to toe.
She hoped she passed inspection, because if he looked at her like that again, it would be a toss-up between shooting him or letting Duke have some fun running him off her place.
Either that or she was going to turn all feminine and girly and fall at his feet, in which case maybe she’d have to shoot herself to end her embarrassment.
Ma’am. I’m not looking for mischief.
His deep, ragged voice spoke of his fatigue and stirred her sympathy for the struggling travelers. I need a place to care for my horse for a few days. I’ll work in return for you allowing me and him to sleep in your barn.
What’s your name?
Not that knowing his name would help if he were lying or bent on mischief. With his looks she no doubt he had trouble looking for him on a nightly basis when he was in a town.
Daniel. Daniel Woods.
Justine nodded and gave the stallion a closer look. Her thought that the animal was valuable was confirmed. Long legs, deep chest, and strong hindquarters proved the horse to be blooded.
I’m doing this for your horse, Mr. Woods. He’s a thoroughbred, isn’t he?
The man gave her another appraising look. Yes, ma’am, he is.
What happened to him?
The man stroked the animal’s sweaty neck. Just a misstep. Bruised the hoof. I think he’ll be fine with a little rest.
You’ll have to ready a stall. Are you hungry?
She knew he had to be. It was getting on in the afternoon. The end of the meadow had shadows.
He walked around to the other side of the horse and removed something from the ties of the saddle. Coming back around to her side he held out two rabbits.
Will this do for supper?
Justine smiled warmly. She stepped down two treads and took his offering. Their fingertips touched sending an icy cold shock wave through her. She recoiled in surprise, hoping her expression didn’t reflect her shock. He didn’t flinch with the contact. She shivered despite the heat of the day, her thoughts racing.
Allowing him to stay would be folly. Letting him go would be worse. He needed more help than he knew. She ignored the strange tightness in her chest and smiled at him.
These will do nicely. Thank you. Do you want the pelts?
No. You do what you like with them. I’ll go get settled.
He put his hat back on his head and turned towards the barn, then hesitated.
Ma’am, if you have some to spare, I’d appreciate a sliver of soap.
Justine nodded. You’ll find a little washstand inside the barn. With soap.
She hesitated, but she had to ask him.
Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Woods?
Surprise flickered in his tired eyes, but his exhaustion was too great. The interest her question had stirred faded from his gaze. He shook his head.
No, ma’am. I can’t say as I do.
Daniel tipped his hat politely before cramming it back on his head then coaxed the stallion to movement. Watching the horse struggle to walk brought tears to Justine’s eyes.
Come on, Duke,
she said softly as she turned to go out back and prepare the game at her workbench. She hoped Mr. Woods didn’t mind if she roasted both rabbits. She had a hot bed of coals and might as well put it to good use.
She left the Derringer in her pocket, not that it would ever hurt him if she fired it at him and hit her mark.
Chapter 2
Daniel stepped into the cool shade of the barn and groaned with relief. He dropped the reins and Zeus immediately stopped. Daniel was sure the horse was as grateful for shade as he was. He slipped the saddle from the tired animal’s back and draped it over the side of the nearest stall.
The stallion was weary. It showed in the way his head drooped, the stillness with which he stood. Daniel left him where he was and climbed up to the loft to toss down fresh bedding into the first stall. That accomplished, he rubbed Zeus down where he stood until he was sure the horse was cool enough for a drink.
He brought a bucket and set it down for the beast and began to brush him down while he drank. Once the horse was