“I should be angry with you, you know.”

      “I know,” Sara Beth said, averting her gaze. “But you’re not, are you? Not really.”

      There was no way Taylor could overlook the sweetness of her smile or the blush on her fair cheeks. Her hair had become mussed during her ordeal and the loose curls made her look like an endearing moppet. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

      Her grin spread and her greenish eyes twinkled mischievously. “Good. I’d be terribly sad if you were.”

      “Sad enough to behave and stay safely away from the city center for a while?”

      “Well…” Her soft drawl and the way she was gazing into his eyes made him melt inside like butter on a summer’s day. “Don’t look so worried. I promise I shall behave as well as is sensible.”

      “That’s what worries me,” he quipped. When she reached up and gently caressed his cheek, his knees nearly buckled….

      VALERIE HANSEN

      was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.

      Married to her high school sweetheart since age seventeen, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for all of Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired lines.

      Life doesn’t get much better than that!

      The Doctor’s Newfound Family

      Valerie Hansen

      A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.

      —Psalms 34:19

      To my editor, Melissa Endlich, who believed in me enough to let me branch out and live a vicarious life in the old West, as well as get into plenty of “trouble” in the present.

      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

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Prologue

      “A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.”

      —Psalms 34:19

      San Francisco, 1856

      Chilling, midnight fog from the bay swirled around the two men standing together in the narrow alley bordering Meigg’s wharf. The taller one was clad in the tailored suit, coat and top hat typical of a wealthy merchant or banker while the other, shivering and nervously rubbing his own arms, wore the canvas pants, homespun shirt and cap of a dock worker.

      The man in the tall beaver hat scratched a lucifer and lit his cigar with it, then slowly blew out a stream of smoke that was quickly lost in the mist. When he finally spoke, his tone was smooth and assured. “You understand what has to be done?”

      “Yes, sir, Mr….”

      “Shut up. No names. And if anyone asks, you and I have never met. Is that clear?”

      “Yes, sir.” The workman chafed his calloused hands together to warm them. “When do you want me to do it?”

      “In a few more days. I’ll get word to you when my plans are firm. Spend your evenings right here in old Abe Warner’s so you’re ready and waiting when the time comes. Just see that you stay sober enough to hit what you’re aiming at. There’ll be no further payment if you miss him and shoot me instead.”

      “I won’t miss, mister. I know when to keep away from John Barleycorn.”

      “Glad to hear it.”

      “How will I know for sure which fella to shoot? I mean, won’t he be dressed just like you?”

      “Probably. I’ll lure him down here to meet with me after dark, then light my cigar the way I did tonight. When I step back out of the way, kill him.”

      “How’ll I see so’s I don’t make a mistake? What if there’s more fog, like now? The new gaslights ain’t workin’ hardly anywhere in the city.”

      The elegant gentleman laughed quietly, menacingly. “I know that, you cretin. Who do you think arranged for the Board of Supervisors to stop paying those exorbitant gas bills? I want it dark, especially around here.”

      “You’ve got this all figured out, haven’t you?”

      “Yes. As long as you do as you’ve been told, all my troubles will soon be over.”

      Chapter One

      Something was terribly wrong.

      Sara Beth awoke with a start. The darkness seemed filled with unnamed dread. She sat up in bed and strained to discern what had disturbed her usually peaceful slumber. At first she thought that perhaps there had been another minor earthquake, which were common in the city by the bay, but she felt no tremors. She did, however, hear plenty.

      Downstairs, Mama’s voice was raised, pleading, and although Sara Beth couldn’t quite make out her stepfather’s words, she could hear the rumble of his gruff-sounding reply. That was very unsettling. Mama had married Robert Reese when Sara Beth was but five years old, and in nearly thirteen years she had almost never heard her parents argue.

      Rising, she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders over her long nightdress, tossed her head to free her heavy, reddish braid, and tiptoed to the adjoining room to check on her younger half-brothers.

      Peeking in at the small beds, she noted that all three boys appeared to be sound asleep. Josiah was the youngest and the most restless. As long as he wasn’t stirring, there was a good chance none of the boys had been disturbed.

      She gently eased the door to their room closed, went to the head of the stairs and paused at the banister to listen carefully. What she overheard made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

      “Don’t go, Robert,” her mother pleaded. “Please. For the sake of the children, if not for me.”

      “You don’t understand, Isabelle. I work with the man. I owe it to him to give him a chance to explain before I take my findings to the authorities.”

      “He’s