Dakota Child

Dakota Child
Linda Ford

Trapped in a North Dakota blizzard, single mother Vivian Halliday's prayer for herself and her child is answered. Rescue comes in the seemingly terrifying form of Billy Black, the hulk of a man feared by all the townsfolk.Yet in the home he shares with his ailing mother, the handsome, gentle giant warms her baby's bottles and sings sweet lullabies that lull even Vivian to peaceful sleep.When the storm abates and it is safe to leave, will she seek the life that led her back to the village…or stay where she's found an unexpected family for herself and her Dakota child?

“I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me.”

Vivian smiled at Billy, determined not to reveal any of her trepidation at his size and her vulnerability. “Thank you. You were an answer to a prayer.”

He nodded solemnly. “You’re welcome. I’m sure t’was God that led me there. No other reason I should be where I could hear you.” He tipped his head toward the baby. “I guess rightly speaking, it was this wee thing I heard.”

Suddenly, the windows rattled as the door behind her opened. A cold breeze blasted across the room. She cuddled Joshua to her chest, protecting him from the icy invasion.

An older woman walked into the room, scrubbing her hands over her hair until it was a tangled mess. Vivian’s jaw dropped. She suddenly realized who they were.

Mad Mrs. Black.

And her son Big Billy.

Everyone was terrified of the pair. Rumors said they’d turned wild after being captives of Indians for years. But despite the talk, could he be anything but a good man if he acknowledged God’s hand in rescuing her?

LINDA FORD

shares her life with her rancher husband, a grown son, a live-in client she provides care for, and a yappy parrot. She and her husband raised a family of fourteen children, ten adopted, providing her with plenty of opportunity to experience God’s love and faithfulness. They had their share of adventures as well. Taking twelve kids in a motorhome on a three-thousand-mile road trip would be high on the list. They live in Alberta, Canada, close enough to the Rockies to admire them every day. She enjoys writing stories that reveal God’s wondrous love through the lives of her characters.

Linda enjoys hearing from readers. Contact her at linda@lindaford.org or check out her Web site at www.lindaford.org, where you can also catch her blog which often carries glimpses of both her writing activities and family life.

Dakota Child

Linda Ford

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee.

—Jeremiah 31:3

To my grandson, Tyson. I’ve watched you grow

and mature and my heart is filled with pride and

joy. I love you and pray God will bless you all the

days of your life.

Contents

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

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Quinten, North Dakota, 1890

She was lost. The world had disappeared into swirling, biting snow. The rough ground beneath her feet convinced her she’d veered off the road. Her toe caught a lump and she staggered to keep her balance.

Nineteen-year-old Vivian Halliday’s thoughts filled with a fury of denials. She couldn’t be lost. No one would realize her predicament. No one would look for her. No one knew where she was. Lord, God, help me.

The same prayer she’d uttered so many times. Not for herself. She knew she didn’t deserve it. There were times she hadn’t listened to God or followed His voice as she ought. There were times she’d totally ignored Him and done her own thing. But she prayed for another and, lately, her prayer had grown more urgent. Today, however, her need was solid and desperate. The cold had already tightened her ribs to the point she could barely breathe, but thinking about how much she had to lose gave icy spears to the cold as it clawed into her lungs.

Snow coated her cheeks and iced her lashes. The wind tore at her cloak. She pulled the heavy woolen material tighter, then bent her head low and turned her back to the storm, letting it push her. It mattered not where she went. One direction was the same as another in this white wilderness.

“God, help me,” she called, but the wind whipped her words into silence. She stumbled. Righted herself. Swayed.

A mewling sound came from inside her cloak.

The tiny cry filled her with fresh determination and she lifted her head and peered into the white nothingness.

She must escape this storm. She just had to keep moving and find shelter. Nothing must defeat her—not man, not beast, not beastly weather. Lord, God, in You I trust. Save me.