Endless Mercy

  Books by Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse

  All Things Hidden

  Beyond the Silence

  THE HEART OF ALASKA

  In the Shadow of Denali

  Out of the Ashes

  Under the Midnight Sun

  THE TREASURES OF NOME

  Forever Hidden

  Endless Mercy

  Books by Tracie Peterson

  LADIES OF THE LAKE

  Destined for You

  WILLAMETTE BRIDES

  Secrets of My Heart

  The Way of Love

  Forever by Your Side

  BROOKSTONE BRIDES

  When You Are Near

  Wherever You Go

  What Comes My Way

  GOLDEN GATE SECRETS

  In Places Hidden

  In Dreams Forgotten

  In Times Gone By

  HEART OF THE FRONTIER

  Treasured Grace

  Beloved Hope

  Cherished Mercy

  For a complete list of titles, visit www.traciepeterson.com.

  © 2021 by Peterson Ink, Inc. and Kimberley Woodhouse

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2021

  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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-3002-4

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

  First Corinthians 13:4–8 is from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Jennifer Parker

  Kimberley Woodhouse is represented by The Steve Laube Agency.

  To our Shepherd, who not only puts up with Your little sheep but paid the ultimate sacrifice for us.

  And to our sheep peeps, Kim Tucker and Amanda Schmitt. This story wouldn’t have been the same without you.

  And to the real Madysen. Keep singing, beautiful girl.

  Contents

  Cover

  Half Title Page

  Books by Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Dear Reader

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Back Ads

  Cover Flaps

  Back Cover

  Dear Reader

  Tracie and I are thrilled to have you join us for the second book in our TREASURES OF NOME Series. We’ve enjoyed getting the reader mail from you about how much you loved Forever Hidden and the Powell sisters.

  The namesakes for the characters in this series are beloved to us. These three sisters are precious and, oh, so talented. Another big thanks to Merle and Monica for allowing us to name characters after their daughters. Yes, the real Powell girls all have gorgeous red hair. And yes, they are all very musical. But I wouldn’t want them to have to go through what we put our characters through!

  Many people are puzzled about a dairy and poultry farm surviving in Alaska. Believe me, I understand. When my family moved to Alaska from Louisiana it was quite a shock. First, I thought I’d be going to six months of daylight and six months of darkness. Second, I wondered how anything could survive up there. But some of the stereotypes we put on places are wrong. Just like when I tell people I grew up in Louisiana and they ask if I had a pet alligator or lived on a swamp. Go ahead, you can laugh with me. No, I didn’t have an alligator, and no, I didn’t live on a swamp. Same thing for our largest state. Alaska doesn’t have six months of darkness and six months of daylight. Not even up in Barrow, the northernmost point of the state. It is an absolutely gorgeous wonderland, and while winters there can be quite brutal, farms have been thriving there for a long time. To give you some fun, you can search for the Alaska Dairy Co. and Poultry Yard in Nome, Alaska, to see some historic photos of the real dairy farm that was in Nome during this time.

  So let’s head back to Nome and the Powell/Bundrant/Roselli family. I know I’m personally wondering what the chickens are up to. . . .

  Enjoy the journey,

  Kimberley and Tracie

  Prologue

  Cripple Creek, Colorado—1891

  “These are ugly.” Madysen Powell scrunched up her nose and looked down at the rock in her hand. The warm, yellow glow from the lantern didn’t help it look any better. “Let’s look somewhere else.” With a toss, she chucked the stone against the dirt wall.

  “They’re rocks, Maddy.” Jeb leaned his head back and let out a groan. “What’d you expect?”

  “To find some special ones.” Placing her hands on her hips, she sent him a scowl. “That’s what you promised when we came here.” Boys. They were so dumb.

  “I said we could try to find special rocks, but I never promised they wouldn’t be ugly. This is a mine, ya know.”

  “You have no imagination.”

  “Why ya gotta use those big words all the time? I’m sure I got plenty of . . . magination, or whatever you said.” He crossed his scrawny arms over his chest.

  With a roll of her eyes and a tap of her foot, she crossed her arms and mimicked his expression. “I’m sure you do.” She took a long glance down the dark mine shaft and a great idea struck. “Let’s race!”

  “In the dark?”

  “What? Are you a fraidycat?” She lifted her lantern and shot him a taunting glare. “Or you just don’t wanna lose again . . . to a girl.”

  “I ain’t afraid of losing to you, because you can’t beat me.” He lifted his chin and held up his lantern too.

  “Catch me if you can!” Madysen giggled as she took off down the narrow corridor of the shaft.

  “No fair, Maddy!” Jeb’s voice echoed behind her. “You got a head start—that’s cheating!” The sound of his steps hinted that he was only a few paces off her heels.

  “It’s not cheating. You’re just slower than me!” Pumping her legs for all she was worth, she held the lamp in front of her as she ran. She was fast. Faster than any boy or girl her age in Cripple Creek. And that included Jeb Morrison, who was a whole year and a half older. He’d been bragging about his ninth birthday coming up. The same day she’d raced him to the mercantile. And won.

  This tunnel was perfect. Long and straight, it gradually sloped down into the belly of the mountain. No one ever
found any gold or silver here, so it had been abandoned for a while. Which made it the perfect place for them to run. She should have thought of it before.

  “I’ll catch ya, just watch.” Jeb’s huffing and puffing sounded like Mama’s metronome ticking the beats in vivace.

  Vivace. The word was fun to say.

  V-i-v-a-c-e. A letter with every stride, she repeated it over and over. Mama made her a new spelling list this week, and it was all tempo words. Words like larghissimo and adagietto weren’t as fun as grave and vivace. Probably because they were harder to spell. But Mama insisted. And Maddy didn’t mind. She loved music.

  Almost as much as she loved running.

  Cripple Creek didn’t have a lot of areas that made for good running. Active mines everywhere, rocks all over the place, and adults always telling them to go play somewhere else.

  At least no one would bother them here. She could run as fast and as much as she wanted. Picking up speed down the slope, she leaned back so her momentum wouldn’t cause her to tumble. Too many times—when she was little—she’d made that mistake on the side of the mountain.

  The air grew cooler with every breath she took. No way Jeb could catch her now.

  How she loved the feel of her feet pounding the ground. Faster and faster. At times, she dreamed her feet didn’t even touch it. The damp air pressed into her face as she practically flew over the surface of the earth. Just like eagles. Except they never flew in mines.

  Running and music. She could do them all day long. Even though Mama told her that ladies shouldn’t run.

  Better get in all her running now while she had the chance. Probably had three good years of running left in her before she grew up and got old. By then, she’d be ten and almost a full-grown lady. But she wouldn’t be serious like Whitney. No. Her older sister didn’t know how to have fun anymore. But Maddy did. She let her smile widen.

  The path leveled out, which meant she was almost to the end. Slowing down, she made it to the back of the shaft and touched it with her hand. “I win!”

  “Ah, shucks! No fair, Maddy!” Jeb slowed to a stop and bent over to set his lantern down. Putting his hands on his knees, he sucked in air with great big gulps.

  A deep rumbling beneath her feet made her gasp and turn around.

  “Maddy!” Jeb’s voice wasn’t playful anymore.

  She held up her lantern toward him and watched him tumble to the ground. “Jeb!” The rumbling stopped. But for how long?

  He jumped back to his feet and wiped off his hands. “I don’t think we should be in here.” He picked up his lantern and held it high, turning in a slow motion.

  Madysen frowned. Pebbles and dirt fell from above.

  Several seconds passed while they caught their breath.

  Then everything quieted.

  Good. She didn’t like the rumbling.

  “I think you’re just sore that I beat you.” Throwing him a grin with her taunt, she raised her eyebrows.

  “This time . . .” He turned around and ran. “Race you back!”

  “Hey!” She took off after him.

  “You won’t beat me again, Maddy. Just watch!”

  Silly Jeb. He thought he could beat her. But even with his head start, she was gaining on him.

  The rumbling sound started again, but this time it made the ground shudder like God had picked up the mountain and shook it out like a rug. They tumbled to the ground as rocks and dirt rained down on them again from above.

  “Run, Maddy!” Her friend looked over his shoulder and jumped back to his feet, his eyes wide.

  “Jeb!” She got up and made it a couple of steps before she fell down and hit her knees to the hard earth, gripping the lantern for all she was worth. The tunnel was no longer smooth and straight. Rocks of all sizes littered the path.

  Maddy looked up and watched the ceiling open and pour its contents in front of her. “Help!” Her scream bounced off the wall of stones and dirt that now blocked her path and separated her from the one way out. “Help! Please, help!”

  Several moments later, her voice was hoarse from yelling. Swallowing against the raw scratchiness in her throat, she lifted the lantern higher. The thumping in her chest grew faster. Her ears pounded, and everything in her wanted to scream and cry all at the same time.

  She lifted her chin against the urge and bit her lip. Brave. Be brave.

  She wasn’t a fraidycat.

  But as she blinked, hot tears escaped.

  The ground stopped shaking, but tiny pebbles and dirt skittered down from the wall in front of her until everything halted and the cool air stilled. A scary silence surrounded her.

  As a shiver raced up her back, her legs trembled. So she sat on the ground and tucked her skirt around her legs. Another swallow. Her throat hurt. What would happen? Was Jeb on the other side trying to get her out? Or would he leave her all alone to go and get help?

  The thought of being alone in the dark made her shiver again. She wasn’t feeling brave at all. Tears choked her. “Jeb . . . help!”

  Christopher Powell swiped a hand down his face. He should clean himself up before Melly saw him. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone back to the saloon so early in the day. Nah, he was fine. Wasn’t even drunk. He wouldn’t go back tonight. Yeah. That would make his wife happy.

  Tripping over something he didn’t see, he heard voices coming from his cabin. With a bit of focus, he listened. A low-timbered voice.

  Great. His wife’s father was here. Just what he needed. To feel insignificant and incompetent again. It wasn’t Chris’s fault that he couldn’t make a fortune at anything he put his hand to like good ol’ Chuck Bundrant. Maybe he should go back to the saloon after all. At least he fit in there.

  He turned on his heel, but his wife’s cries tore at him. Why was she upset? He stepped forward a few paces to listen.

  “She’s been gone for hours, Papa,” Melly sobbed. “No one knows where she is. I wanted to come get you earlier, but I thought we could find her.”

  “Don’t you worry, Melly.” Chuck’s bossy voice echoed through the cracks in the thin cabin walls. “I’ll go put a search team together. I employ plenty of men. We’ll find her. I promise.”

  Find who? Who was missing? One of his girls? His heart skipped, and he stormed through the door. “What’s wrong?”

  Melissa ran to him and put her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re home—Maddy is missing. We can’t find her anywhere.” The grief in her voice made him feel like the lowest of the low. If he’d been here . . . then maybe . . . No. It didn’t matter. Chris peered into his other daughters’ wide eyes. Whitney and Havyn clung to each other behind their mother. Tears streamed down Havyn’s cheeks, while Whitney said soft, comforting words and shot daggers at him with her eyes.

  At twelve years old, she was the oldest and mother hen of the group. And she’d become wise to the world’s temptations. At least his. She had come to the saloon a few times to find him and drag him home. Not something a father wanted his daughter to do. But she was a stubborn one. Just like her dad.

  Avoiding eye contact with his wife’s father, Chris held Melly close. “I’ll go look for her.”

  “Papa’s going to put together a search team. Maybe you could go with them.” She pulled back and gazed up into his eyes. A gaze that still held hope and love for him. God only knew why.

  “I’m glad he’s getting a group together, but I’ll do better on my own. I’m her father, I bet I can find her.” Lifting his chin, he dared a look at Chuck. “Thank you for helping us search.”

  The older man didn’t flinch. “The only thing that matters now is Madysen. I’ll get the word out, and we’ll send teams in every direction. We’ll comb this mountain if we have to.” Chuck headed toward the door. “Melissa, stay here in case she returns. We’ll fire two shots in the air when we find her.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” Melly twisted a hankie in her hands and watched him leave.

  “I best get out there as well.” Chris
gazed at his girls. “I’ll find her.”

  Havyn ran to him and sobbed into his coat.

  Whitney crossed her arms over her chest. It had been a while since his eldest daughter had trusted him. But the slight glimmer of hope in her eyes pushed him forward. He would find Maddy and gain everyone’s respect again. Then maybe, just maybe, he could turn things around.

  “I’ll find her. I will. Don’t worry.” Chris patted Havyn’s head and gave Melissa a nod. He had to do this.

  A half hour later, he searched the streets. How sad was it that he had no idea where his little girl would be? Where did she like to play? Where would she go to hide? The girls were constantly playing hide-and-seek. Did she have any friends other than her sisters?

  Hadn’t she mentioned a friend named Sally? And wasn’t there a Jeb? Or was it Jed? Scratching his days-old beard, he went to the school. Maybe the kids from town would be there and he could ask them questions. Not that his girls went to the school, but they would know other children . . . wouldn’t they?

  Taking long strides, Chris set out for the schoolhouse on the edge of town. But when he reached it, it was locked up tight. Blast! Today was Saturday.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore his overwhelming thirst. But it nagged and pulled at him until he licked his lips. Maybe just one drink. It couldn’t hurt. Probably make him think clearer too ’cause then he wouldn’t be distracted by it.

  He closed his eyes. No wonder he was such a horrible father––his little girl was lost, and he couldn’t even keep his focus on her for an hour before he started thinking about liquor.

  A new resolve filled his mind. Melly and the girls deserved better. This was his chance. He could be a better man. He could. He balled his fists at his side and took a long, deep breath. He would do this. Maddy needed him.

  Pushing his legs back into motion, he ran back to town.

  Two young girls darted across his path.

  “Hey!”

  His harsh tone made them stop, and they turned to him with eyes as big as saucers.

  “Have you seen Madysen Powell?”

  They relaxed a bit. One of the girls shrugged.

  The other looked to her friend. Then back at him. “She was playing with Jeb Morrison this morning. Down near the mines.” The little girl grabbed her friend’s hand, and they took off running again.