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A Cowboy for Keeps

Jody Hedlund
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. Half Title Page
  3. Books by Jody Hedlund
  4. Title Page
  5. Epigraph
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. About the Author
  38. Back Ads
  39. Back Cover

Cover

Half Title Page

Books by Jody Hedlund

The Preacher’s Bride

The Doctor’s Lady

Unending Devotion

A Noble Groom

Rebellious Heart

Captured by Love

BEACONS OF HOPE

Out of the Storm: A BEACONS OF HOPE Novella

Love Unexpected

Hearts Made Whole

Undaunted Hope

ORPHAN TRAIN

An Awakened Heart: An ORPHAN TRAIN Novella

With You Always

Together Forever

Searching for You

THE BRIDE SHIPS

A Reluctant Bride

The Runaway Bride

A Bride of Convenience

COLORADO COWBOYS

A Cowboy for Keeps

Title Page

Epigraph

Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.

—Psalm 55:22

Chapter 1

COLORADO TERRITORY
AUGUST 1862

“Stop or we’ll shoot!” A dozen feet up Kenosha Pass, three robbers with flour sacks over their heads blocked the way, their revolvers outstretched.

Walking alongside the stagecoach, Greta Nilsson didn’t have to be told twice. She froze—all except her pulse, which sped to a thundering gallop.

Next to her, the Concord jerked to a halt.

“Come out and put your hands up where we can see ’em,” called the lanky robber at the center, peering through unevenly cut holes in his mask.

Greta raised her gloved hands and hoped they weren’t trembling. Likewise, the two gentlemen hiking near her wasted no time in obeying.

Before she’d left Illinois, everyone had warned her of the trouble she might encounter on the route to the west, including the growing problem of stagecoach robberies. Over the past eight weeks of traveling, she’d braced herself for the possibility, had mentally rehearsed such an encounter and what she’d do.

But today, on the last day of the journey, she’d finally allowed herself to relax and believe that for once things might work out in her favor, that she hadn’t made a big mistake in moving to Colorado.

Apparently, she’d assumed too much too soon.

At the rear of the stagecoach, several men had been pushing it the final distance to the top of the pass, and they now eased out into the open, their arms up. The driver sitting on his bench atop the stagecoach set the brake, then released the reins controlling the two teams of horses that had been straining to pull them up the mountain. He, too, cautiously lifted his hands.

She guessed, like her, the other passengers were well aware of the tales of murder and mayhem along the wilderness trails. And they weren’t taking any chances either.

At least Astrid was inside the coach. After trekking uphill for the first hour, the little girl’s poor lungs hadn’t been able to handle the exertion. As much as Astrid had loathed returning to the bumpy conveyance, she’d been able to have a seat to herself since everyone else had gotten out to lighten the load.