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Authors: Tamera Alexander

Rekindled

Rekindled
by Tamera Alexander is an amazing story of love lost and found and of trust and faith rediscovered. I loved it!

—Colleen Coble, author of
Alaska Twilight
, a
Women of Faith novel

Heartbreaking and hopeful,
Rekindled
is a love story that will keep you turning pages late into the night, longing for Larson and Kathryn to find their way back to each other. Ms. Alexander grabs a reader’s heart and doesn’t let go until the very end. I look forward to the next book in the F
OUNTAIN
C
REEK
C
HRONICLES
.

—Robin Lee Hatcher, bestselling author of
The Victory Club and Diamond Place

Excellent characters and a unique storyline combine to create a novel that will burn in your memory for a long time to come.

—Randy Ingermanson, Christy
Award-winning author

In the truest sense of the word, this novel rekindles an everlasting love between two remarkable characters. Tamera Alexander has created a rare love story between a husband and wife as their growing understanding of God and one another reveals just how deep love can be. Well done!

—Maureen Lang, author of
Pieces of Silver
from Kregel Publications

Tamera Alexander pens a compelling novel of God’s grace and the hope of love rekindled. I was hooked from the first and sorry when the story was over.

—Tracie Peterson, award-winning author of
the bestselling HEIRS OF MONTANA series
and
What She Left For Me

Tamera Alexander has given us a beautiful story of redemption and hope peopled with unforgettable characters and a setting so vivid I felt I’d traveled back in time. I can’t wait for the next book in the F
OUNTAIN
C
REEK
C
HRONICLES
series.

—Deborah Raney, author of
Over the Waters
and
A Vow to Cherish

Books by
Tamera Alexander

FROM BETHANY HOUSE PUBLISHERS

F
OUNTAIN
C
REEK
C
HRONICLES

Rekindled

Revealed

Remembered

Fountain Creek Chronicles
(3 in 1)

T
IMBER
R
IDGE
R
EFLECTIONS

From a Distance

Beyond This Moment

Within My Heart

T
AMERA
A
LEXANDER

FOUNTAIN CREEK CHRONICLES | BOOK ONE

REKINDLED

Rekindled
Copyright © 2006
Tamera Alexander

Cover design by Studio Gearbox
Cover photograph by Steve Gardner, PixelWorks Studios, Inc.

Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Scripture quotations identified NIV are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION.
®
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN 978-0-7642-0108-0

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Alexander, Tamera.
Rekindled / Tamera Alexander.

p. cm. — (Fountain Creek chronicles ; 1)
ISBN 0-7642-0108-5 (pbk.)

1. Ranchers—Fiction. 2. Burns and scalds—Fiction. 3. Domestic fiction. I. Title
II. Series: Alexander, Tamera. Fountain Creek chronicles ; 1.

PS3601.L3563R45 2006
813'.6—dc22

2005028052

DEDICATION

To my parents, Doug and June Gattis
Growing up beneath the shelter of your love
shaped me for eternity, and I’m forever grateful.
That love spilled over into me and gave me wings.
It still does. Thank you for continually pointing me
to the Cross and for being “Jesus with skin” in my life.

To my mother-in-law, Claudette Harris Alexander
You first started me on this writing journey by sharing with me
just how
softly His love comes
. I trust you can now see
where your gift has led me. We miss you every day.
Scout out the best hiking trails. We’ll be Home soon.

Do not consider his appearance or his height,
for I have rejected him.
The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.
Man looks at the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks at the heart.

1
S
AMUEL
16:7
NIV

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

EPILOUGE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

Colorado Territory, 1868
In the shadow of Pikes Peak

L
ARSON JENNINGS HAD LIVED this moment a thousand times over, and it still sent a chill through him. Shifting in the saddle, he stared ahead at the winding trail of dirt and rock that had been the haunt and haven of his dreams, both waking and sleeping, for the past five months. Along with his anticipation at returning home, there mingled a foreboding that crowded out any sense of festivity.

He carefully tugged off the leather gloves and looked at his misshapen hands. Gently flexing his fingers, he winced at the unpleasant sensation shooting up his right arm. The skin was nearly healed but was stretched taut over the back of his hand, much like it was over half of his body. Scenes from that fateful night flashed again in his mind. Blinding white light, unbearable heat.

He closed his eyes. His breath quickened, his flesh tingled, remembering. He may have denied death its victory, but death had certainly claimed a bit of him in the struggle.

What would Kathryn’s reaction be at seeing him like this? And what had the past months been like for her, not knowing where he was? To think she might have already given him up for dead touched on a wound so deep inside him, Larson couldn’t bear to give the thought further lead. Kathryn would be there. . . .
She would
.

Maybe if he’d been a better husband to her, a better provider, or perhaps if he had been able to give her what she truly wanted, he’d feel differently about coming back. But their inability to have a child had carved a canyon between them years ago, and the truth of their marriage was as undeniable to him as the scars marring his body. And the fault of it rested mostly with him—he knew that now.

He rode on past the grove of aspen that skirted the north boundary of their property, then crossed at a shallow point in Fountain Creek. Distant memories, happier memories, tugged at the edge of his misgivings, and Larson welcomed them. Kathryn had been twenty years old when he’d first brought her to this territory. Their journey from Boston had been hard, but she’d never complained. Not once. He’d sensed her silent fear expanding with each distancing mile. He remembered a particular night they’d spent together inside the wagon during a storm. Wind and rain had slashed across the prairie in torrents, and though a quiver had layered her voice, Kathryn swore to be enjoying the adventure. As they lay together through the night, he’d loved her and sworn to protect and care for her. And he still intended to keep that promise—however modest their reality might have turned out in comparison to his dreams.

Kathryn meant more to him than anything now. She was more than his wife, his lover. She completed him, in areas he’d never known he was lacking. He regretted that it had taken an intimate brush with death for him to see the truth. Now if he could only help her see past the outside, to the man he’d become.

His pulse picked up a notch when he rounded the bend and the familiar scene came into view. Nestled in stands of newly leafed aspen and willow trees, crouched in the shadow of the rugged mountains that would always be his home, the scenery around their cabin still took his breath away.

Larson’s stomach clenched tight as he watched for movement from the homestead. As he rode closer, a breeze swept down from the mountain, whistling through the branches overhead. The door to the cabin creaked open. His eyes shot up. A rush of adrenaline caused every nerve to tingle.

“Kathryn?” he rasped, his voice resembling a music box whose innards had been scraped and charred.

He eased off his horse and glanced back at the barn. Eerily quiet.

It took him a minute to gain his balance and get the feeling back in his limbs. His right leg ached, and he was tempted to reach for his staff tied to his saddle, but he resisted, not wanting Kathryn’s first image of him to be that of a cripple. Vulnerability flooded his heart, erasing all pleas but one.

God, let her still want me
.

He gently pushed open the cabin door and stepped inside. “Kathryn?”

He scanned the room. Deserted. The door to their bedroom was closed, and he crossed the room and jerked the latch free. The room was empty but for the bed they’d shared. Scenes flashed in his mind of being here with Kathryn that last night. Disbelief and concern churned his gut.

He searched the barn, calling her name, but his voice was lost in the wind stirring among the trees. Chest heaving, he ignored the pain and swung back up on his mount.

Later that afternoon, exhausted from the hard ride back to Willow Springs, Larson urged his horse down a less crowded side street, wishing now that he’d chosen to search for Kathryn here first. But he’d held out such hope that she’d been able to keep the ranch. He gave his horse the lead and searched the places he thought Kathryn might be. Nearing the edge of town, he reined in his thoughts as his gaze went to a small gathering beside the church.

Two men worked together to lower a coffin suspended by ropes into a hole in the ground. Three other people looked on in silence—a woman dressed all in black and two men beside her. Watching the sparse gathering as he passed, Larson suddenly felt sorry for the departed soul and wondered what kind of life the person had led that would draw so few well-wishers. Then the woman turned her head to speak to one of the men beside her. It couldn’t be . . .

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