Prologue
Alone inside the church, Cassandra Zerek scooted on her knees…
One
It was the devil’s own afternoon. Black clouds gathered over…
Two
As Luke resumed his walk toward the church, his gaze…
Three
Several nights later, Cassandra was cooking the evening meal and…
Four
When her father and brother didn’t return at a reasonable…
Five
Despite the chill of the September morning, a feeling of…
Six
A picket fence bordered the velvet front lawn of Taggart…
Seven
Luke braced a hand on the newel post’s gleaming finial…
Eight
Games…When Cassandra had made mention of such activities that afternoon,…
Nine
As weary as Cassandra was, she couldn’t sleep. The bed…
Ten
Luke rose from bed the next morning ready to lay…
Eleven
The smell of ammonia was strong enough to bring tears…
Twelve
Lamplight played over the kitchen, bathing the brick walls and…
Thirteen
At precisely eight-fifteen the next morning, Luke descended the long…
Fourteen
For an instant that seemed years long, Luke couldn’t react…
Fifteen
By mid-morning, Lycodomes was showing marked signs of improvement. Not…
Sixteen
Her eyes wide and wary, she set down her wineglass…
Seventeen
It seemed to Luke he’d just closed his eyes when…
Eighteen
A twelve-branched candelabra at the center of the dining-room table…
Nineteen
Pressed against the wall and imprisoned there by Luke’s muscular…
Twenty
As Cassandra opened her eyes the next morning, sunlight dappled…
Twenty-One
Luke jerked awake and searched the gloom-filled room. For a…
Twenty-Two
Shame clung to Cassandra like a sodden cloak as she…
Twenty-Three
The drapes were drawn, and the lamp had long been…
Twenty-Four
Stone-sober from shock, Luke paused for a moment outside Doctor…
Twenty-Five
Cassandra perched woodenly on the waiting room chair between her…
Twenty-Six
When Cassandra and Khristos returned to the doctor’s office the…
Twenty-Seven
With the first ring of steel striking rock from deep…
Twenty-Eight
For two weeks, Luke showed up at the Zerek mine…
Twenty-Nine
After an amazingly informal greeting from Pipps, who grabbed her…
About the Author
Other Books by Catherine Anderson
Copyright
About the Publisher
PROLOGUE
Black Jack, Colorado
August 1887
Alone inside the church, Cassandra Zerek scooted on her knees across the floor, rubbing industriously at the squares of oak within her reach until they shone like polished agate. Anemic afternoon sunlight came through the stained glass windows, casting a rainbow of colors across the empty pews, all of which gleamed with the fresh coat of beeswax she’d just applied. Mingling with the scent of the wax were lingering traces of incense from Mass that morning and the acrid smell of smoke from the flickering votive candles that burned near the altar.
Sitting back on her heels to catch her breath, Cassandra swiped a tendril of curly, sable hair from her eyes and puffed air past her lips to cool her cheeks. Perspiration ran in rivulets from under her breasts and trickled over her ribs, the sensation making her itch under the heavy wool of her blue dress. Dratted dress, anyhow. No matter how many layers of underclothing she wore, the coarse weave always managed to irritate her skin.
Eyeing the distance she still had to cover before she would be finished with the floor, Cassandra nearly groaned. It was another twenty feet up the center aisle to the doors. Considering the fact that the aisle was four tiles across, each a foot square, and she was the only person there to buff each one, that was no short distance. Her arms already felt like aching lumps hanging off her shoulders, and her back hurt. Her eighteen years felt like a hundred.
Waxing the church floor was a big job for one person to tackle, and three-quarters of the way through, she always wondered why she’d ever promised to do it. The answer was simple, of course. Because she couldn’t afford to give money to the church as other people did, she made a gift of her time instead, helping the nuns over at the convent and orphanage every weekday afternoon, laundering Father Tully’s vestments, and cleaning the church from top to bottom twice a month.
Today was her day to clean….
Resuming the task with renewed vigor, Cassandra refolded her buffing cloth to leave a fresh side out, then bent to resume her rubbing. Suffering, she reminded herself, helped to build character, and since she truly wanted to become a nun, she needed all the character she could get.