Blessed Beyond Measure Read online

  Blessed Beyond Measure

  Brides of Blessings, book 2

  Kari Trumbo

  Contents

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  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  19. Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kari Trumbo:

  Untitled

  BLESSED

  BEYOND

  MEASURE

  KARI TRUMBO

  Blessed Beyond Measure

  Copyright © 2018 Kari Trumbo

  All rights reserved.

  AISN: BO77QSVSFN

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

  Please Note

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  Cover Design by Carpe Librum Book Design

  Edited by Hart’s Reader Pulse

  For anyone certain that they are unworthy of love, there is nothing that can separate you from the love that is in Christ Jesus. Nothing.

  Chapter 1

  The Steamboat Sophie,

  Winter 1850

  Lenora clutched her shawl about her shoulders at the rail of the ship as the wind whipped her skirts about her ankles. Cold sea air drove spray into her face, but she no longer felt it. Her little room was too cramped to stay inside. And there was the scenery above … not just the endless ocean, but the man who’d started invading her every waking thought.

  The waves rocked the steamer, but her stomach had long-since tired of trying to feel at-ease. If anything, the longer she was aboard ship, the more she detested it and would never offer to board again, not that it mattered. They were on their way to California, land of a million dreams, and there she would remain. Blessings … she’d clutched to the name like a life raft since they’d left so long ago.

  She’d heard rumors while standing at that very spot by the rail, rumors of landfall at the Isthmus of Panama. After six months at sea, solid land beneath her feet would be a blessed treat. It didn’t matter that she’d also heard of rats the size of small dogs, bugs that could kill her, and monkeys that screamed loud enough to be heard miles away. It was land, and solid ground would mean her stomach could stop pitching.

  Seven months before, in the early spring, her father had received a message from an old associate in need of help in California. Mr. Winslet had requested they come post haste to help him in building a land office in the new town of Blessings. He had miners that came and went aplenty, but he was looking to make Blessings into more than just a mining town. Mr. Winslet had a dream of building a place where people would be happy, share life, and grow old with him. Her father had made the decision, almost overnight, that they would all go. After a month of selling everything they wouldn’t need and hiring two men to come with them as protection, they’d left everything she knew behind.

  In a new town, Lenora could finally escape the expectation that she would be little more than a pretty face for a future husband to dote over and pat on the head. Her father had tried to rein in her pesky desires to become a lawyer like himself, but that had only made her crave it more. She could stretch herself, do something with the talents the Lord had given her. Be something in a little town that would expect every member to pull their weight to make it a success. After so many months at sea, she would never offer to return; Boston never held her heart, but the little town she’d never seen, did.

  Mr. Abernathy was late. She’d have to go back below soon, or her mother would turn furious. A quick glance behind her, and she turned back to the vast ocean to hide her smile. Victor Abernathy approached with his usual swagger. Her skin prickled to life, just as it would if the sun had landed upon her. Anticipation of verbally sparring with him heated her up more than her thin shawl ever could. He was a man well used to anyone’s bed but his own, or so he claimed, and he’d been pestering her almost from the start. Whenever her father wasn’t around to take notice, he would appear.

  Though she’d always been told she was beautiful, she’d never attracted the attention of a man with such an air of danger about him. His dark caramel hair had grown long on the ship, but he didn’t seem to mind, using it instead to appear even more devilishly handsome as it whipped around his face in the blustery gale. He leaned against the rail next to her, confidence the very fiber of his clothing. His eyes, greener than the sea, ablaze just for her, took her in with an appreciative nod. No, this man wasn’t for her. But keeping him away was a wonderful daily challenge that drove her to seek the open space of the deck whenever the weather would permit, and even like today, when it was questionable.

  “Miss Farnsworth, pleasant day.” He tipped his bowler hat and let his jade eyes wander liberally over her face, almost like a true caress.

  “Some might claim it. It seemed rather cool to me.” The rumor of land had said that it would get warmer as they approached landfall, but without that hope, the sea still left her cold to the bone.

  She pulled the shawl tighter. There was nothing decent about Victor Abernathy, and if she knew what was good for her, she’d stay away. So, why did she always find herself at the rail, looking over her shoulder to see if he would draw near, hoping he would notice her standing there? He was so very different from all the men her father had introduced her to, hoping to build business relations between families. Abernathy was exciting, and completely forbidden. He stood too close to her, spoke flippantly, and didn’t hide his tendencies nor his desires, like so many other men did.

  Her father had hired him and another man, Cort, to accompany them to California. The other man stayed mostly hidden, watching them from a distance. She forgot about him most of the time. But not Abernathy. He was far from subtle. Every day, just when she was sure he wasn’t going to come pester her that day, he would appear. And before they finished speaking, he’d have her heart beating erratically with his witty banter. No man from Boston had ever done that.

  “Come now, my lovely, is my company so poor that you can’t even have a smile when I’m about? Even a little one? Have a care, and tip those lovely lips just for me.”

  He moved to lean his hip against the railing and she fought the urge to push him off into the churning waters. Then his pestering would stop. But she wouldn’t, because, despite what she made him think, no one had ever challenged her like Mr. Abernathy. Nor could anyone make her feel alive as he did. The
re was little doubt that he’d also offered his time to other women on the ship, which had made his pursuit of her less special, but he was a cad. Either she could allow herself to enjoy the mental stimulation of his visits, or let her mind wander to how many skirts he’d chased and let it get to her. She’d chosen to ignore his ignoble pastimes and enjoy the stolen moments he spent with her, chaste though they were.

  “My father hired you to watch over my family. My entire family, Mr. Abernathy. I would think you would be a little more serious.”

  He sighed, and his firm lips parted just a bit, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I find I can’t be serious where you are concerned, my dear. You are far too lovely to be cooped up on this ship, and the ocean air doesn’t sit well with your pallor. It should be much more … rosy. I’m sure I could find a most pleasant way to make it so.”

  His eyes laughed at his teasing, but he didn’t. If he were not such a scoundrel, he’d be too handsome by far, and half the time her foolish heart refused to overlook that fact. All he wanted was money. Her money. Her father had warned her about him before he’d even shown up at the wharf for departure. Shortly after they’d met for the first time in Father’s drawing room, Father had told her that Abernathy had lost his family fortune a few years’ past in London. He’d been in the states ever since, trying to win it back, without actually working. Marrying her would be a step in the right direction, but she’d been guarded with him from the first and that wouldn’t change. It couldn’t. But that didn’t stop her from coming out to see if Abernathy would grace her with his presence almost every day.

  There was also the chance that he didn’t want her money at all, but just the thrill of sparring with her until she gave in and let him into her room. He would lose, of course. She had no intention of giving herself to any man, much less Victor Abernathy, rake and gambling fiend.

  Since her father would never let her marry a miner and she had no interest in marrying one, either, her prospects in the new little town would be slim—if her father was correct—and he always was. Blessings would be full of miners, and little else. That meant Lenora would remain alone until the little town became more settled, more civilized. She could wait that long and pray for someone who would make her think on her feet, like Mr. Abernathy did. He just had to be a man of character, who wouldn’t chase after other women. That would never be tolerated.

  “You have nothing to say?” He sighed and frowned dramatically. “Surely, in the long months we’ve spent together, I’ve convinced you there’s more to me than just what’s on the surface. What you can see, and hear, and … touch.”

  He reached over and traced her finger with a practiced hand, meant to inflame her very skin. And it worked. His touch was as warm as apple pie and she prayed that Abernathy would tire of his games before he convinced her to believe he had changed. There was just no hope in that. But if he did tire of her, would she still come to the rail and hope? She refused to be another conquest for him, just another soft skirt. But where did that leave her? He wasn’t bound to keep after her forever. He would tire of their talks and he would find another woman who gave him what he desired. A fleck of worry sparked within her.

  “You have done no such thing. I remain certain that the only thing you wish from me is my father’s money, and you shall never have it. Excuse me.”

  Lenora turned to leave his company, but his eyes caught her, and he moved in her path, stopping her like a bird in a cage. Though he did not touch her, she almost wished he would, just to know what it would be like to be held by him. That had to be how he’d tamed so many women; his beautiful, awful eyes, and the desire for his strong arms.

  “I want more than your father’s money, Lenora Farnsworth. I want your hand, and shall have it. I’m a gambler you see, and I never bet on a hand I might lose.”

  Chapter 2

  San Francisco Port,

  April 1851

  Victor stood in the pressing crowd of bodies still aboard ship and watched as all four members of the Farnsworth family disembarked, his eyes naturally tracking the one they always did, the lovely Lenora. The Farnsworths were followed by two crewmen, each carrying a trunk. Great crowds of people rushed about the wharf below, and the ships that had arrived carrying people over the last two years sat bobbing nearby, now homes to those who couldn’t afford housing on land. California was colorful and loud, just the place where he could fit in. There was an energy in the very air that made him feel like he was made of more than just the stuff God had willed together.

  Victor had met Lenora’s father, Edward Farnsworth, late September of 1850. After a short acquaintance, Mr. Farnsworth hired him to watch over he and his family on their trip to California. Victor had agreed, as long as Farnsworth hired his best mate, Cort Nelson, as well. Cort had gotten him out of more than a few tight places, and Victor wouldn’t leave Cort behind. He was Victor’s good luck charm and he’d need all the good luck he could find in California. Time was running out to replace the fortune he’d gambled away when it hadn’t seemed to matter.

  Lenora Farnsworth’s hair blew softly in the breeze, catching both his eye and his breath. While he’d wiled away the hours with many an English maid, Lenora captivated something deep inside him, and it would not be quelled. The sky, temporarily dry, allowed her pretty, dark curls to create a luscious soft cloud around her beautiful face. Her skin was as fair as the driven snow and she was as dainty as a flower—and smart as a whip. She hadn’t given in to him. Probably because she knew he’d take whatever he could. Her father would be furious if he knew Victor’s plans for his daughter, but it would be worth it. Her soft pink lips and snapping blue eyes had haunted him from the moment he’d met her eight long months before.

  Now, he’d need to follow the family to Blessings, collect his pay, apply for a piece of land, and make his money, all so he could finally return home. With Lenora. He’d have to devise a plan for getting the gold back without spending it, but that was something he could work out later. Today, he just had to make sure the Farnsworths didn’t leave without paying his fare, or Cort’s.

  Cort stood at his side, stiff, staring, his hands firmly on his irons, at the ready. He usually stayed hidden, liked it that way. He was a gun-slinger by trade, or so he said. Victor didn’t know much about his past. He was wanted in Kentucky, for sure, but maybe other places, as well. So it was better that no one took notice of him.

  “You don’t think they’ll skip out on paying for us? We can’t get off this tea-kettle until he does, and it don’t look like he’s in any hurry.”

  Victor laid a calming hand on his friend’s arm to stay him. He had no desire to rile Cort. That would be a bad idea, even for him. Cort had a way of getting under a man’s skin, he wasn’t a man to trifle with. Part of the reason he was good to keep around.

  “He’s trustworthy. He’ll pay for our fare and then we’ll do our jobs until they reach Blessings. He’ll pay us then, and we can go. We are so close; can’t you taste it?”

  The gunslinger mumbled something Victor was sure he didn’t want to hear anyway.

  Cort slid his hat a little lower. “And what if this town doesn’t want us? They asked for Farnsworth. He didn’t even tell Winslet he was bringing his family with him, so he don’t know about us. And if he did, he’d never let us in.”

  Victor had already talked with Cort about that particular issue, and he was of a mind that it didn’t matter. A town was a town and as long as he didn’t make anyone too angry, they should be welcoming. There was enough gold in California for everyone, despite the rumors that the rush was already dying.

  “Put your gun away for a while, Cort. Did you ever think about the fact that you could start over in Blessings? No one will know your past. You can be a new man.”

  “I already am a new man, new name and all. But that don’t change my face or the fact that this whole world doesn’t seem big enough to hide in anymore.”

  He couldn’t argue that. The captain called their names and Vic
tor and Cort made their way to the plank where they were verified, and the captain allowed them to leave ship. Edward Farnsworth, along with his wife Matilda, his son Geoff, and his beautiful daughter Lenora waited for them at the edge of the wharf as they secured some type of large cart to continue their journey. Though Lenora averted her eyes, she’d watched him approach. How one girl could seem so warm to him with her eyes and so cold with her mouth, was exciting. He’d make sure her mouth was good and warm to him eventually, too.

  They had only been allowed a few trunks on the ship and neither he nor Cort had carried more than a bag. Mr. Farnsworth’s eighteen-year-old son, Geoff, lifted their trunks into the back of the wagon. The trunks would be seating for the four who’d have to ride in the back. Geoff nodded to Victor, and made room for him to climb in at the end of the wagon. Victor had hoped on the outset of the voyage that by befriending the young man, he could get closer to his sister. That hadn’t been the case. Geoff had turned out to dislike his parents a great deal, along with Lenora, and only tolerated Victor and Cort when he had to. Though, he was also an excellent card player, so the friendship wasn’t for naught.

  Victor pulled Mr. Farnsworth aside, his wife clinging to his arm as if she were about to be carted off by someone in the street. Since Farnsworth had insisted the family needed protection, he would use the advantage. He’d yet to see any real need for them to have been hired, but Farnsworth didn’t see it that way.