PRAISE FOR
THE WINTER PEARL
âMolly Noble Bull has written a charming story with twists and turns for a character the reader will really root for.â
âLauraine Snelling, bestselling author of The Red River North series
âThe Winter Pearl is a jewel of a novel! I literally couldnât put it down and found myself reaching for a tissue more than once. Molly has beautifully blended a heart-stopping adventure and a glorious romance filled to the brim with Godâs love and redemptionâall set against the backdrop of the Old West. I canât wait to see more from this talented author.â
âDiane Noble, award-winning author of The Butterfly Farm
âI cared about Molly Noble Bullâs heroine, Honor McCall, from page one of The Winter Pearl to the end of her satisfying and surprising journey where she discovered the precious pearl of grace set in a filigree of hope, redemption and forgiveness.â
âTamela Hancock Murray, award-winning inspirational author of Virginia Hearts
Falling Rock, Colorado
Late October 1888
âIâm not one to go without a woman for long, missy.â
When Honor McCall had first heard her uncle say those words, sheâd been sitting beside him in the wagon on the drive from the farm to the cemetery in nearby Falling Rock. Sheâd trembled then. Now, standing at Aunt Harrietâs grave and digesting what Uncle Lucas must have meant, she realized sheâd never stopped shaking.
She did not want to marry her late auntâs husband. If only the God that Aunt Harriet had told her about would provide her with a means of escape.
Although her aunt had been a Christian all her life, Lucas wasnât allowing a funeral service. There was no one to attend the burial because only the grave diggers knew about the death. It was surprising that Lucas had driven Honor to the cemetery to watch the men dig the hole. Knowing him, that was more than sheâd expected.
As the diggers lowered the crude, wooden coffin into the ground, Honor saw a flash of gray behind a group of trees. In a moment, it became a young man in a gray suit, coming toward them, and she knew sheâd never seen him before.
Her heart knotted. Lucas would not be pleased by this turn of events.
The stranger had thick brown hair and broad shoulders that reminded her of Lucas. Though her uncle was at least twenty years older, both men were tall and well built. But the young manâs clothes looked spotless, and he held what appeared to be a black Bible in one hand and an umbrella in the other. While Lucas, also in a gray suit, had liquor stains down the front of his jacket, and he gripped a half-empty whiskey bottle as though it were glued to his right hand.
Dreading a confrontation, Honor wished the young man would just go away. At the same time, she hoped he would stay. There was something in his presence that made her feel safe.
Sheâd been so overwhelmed by the death of her aunt, sheâd hardly noticed the weather. Now she felt the nip of a fresh norther that had just blown in. Dark clouds gathered, and an icy wind stirred the pines that surrounded them. Her shivers deepened.
When the younger man reached the graveside, Lucas glowered at him. âWhat do ya think youâre doing here, mister?â
âMy name is Jethro Peters, but my friends call me Jeth. Iâm just visiting here in Falling Rock. I live over in Hearten. Iâm the pastor there, and when the diggers told me someone died, I came to see if I could be of help.â
Lucas studied the minister, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slack, the way it always did when something unusual happened to him. After a moment, his thick eyebrows drew together. His face turned red, and a crease appeared in the center of his forehead.
âYour kind ainât welcome here,â he said, his voice rough and gravelly. âWe donât need no preacher.â
âYes, Uncle, we do.â Honor could hardly believe sheâd found the courage to speak up. She knew she could be beaten for her words, but for her auntâs sake, sheâd had to say what was in her mind.
Lucas scowled. âWhat did you say, girl?â
âI said that we need a preacher here todayâat least, I do.â Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. âAunt Harriet was a Christian, and she would have wanted someone to say a prayer over her grave and read from the Good Book.â
âI would be glad to do it,â Jeth Peters said softly, âif you will allow it, sir.â
Honor expected Lucas to curse the preacher and drive him away, but strangely, he kept silent for a few moments, staring at the younger man. Then he looked down at his dirty black boots. âAll right,â he mumbled. âSay what you have to and read from that there book you got. Then git. I ainât never had no use for do-gooders.â