by
MARY CONNEALY
Genre: Western Historical Christian Romance
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Date of Publication: October 3, 2017
Number of Pages: 322
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With Danger Drawing Ever Closer, The Boden Clan Risk Losing Their Ranch Forever
Having returned home to the ranch, Cole Boden finds himself caught between missing his time back east and appreciating all that New Mexico Territory offers. Sure, he fights with his siblings now and then, but he does care for them. He enjoys his new job running the mine and, when he's honest, he admits that Melanie Blake captures his interest in a way no other woman ever has.
Melanie has been a friend to the Bodens forever. A cowgirl who is more comfortable with horses and lassoes than people, she never expected to find herself falling for someone, particularly for refined Cole Boden, a Harvard graduate who can't seem to make up his mind about staying in New Mexico.
When a deadly explosion damages the CR Mining Company, the Bodens realize their troubles are not behind them as they thought. Shadowy forces are still working against them. Melanie is determined to help Cole and the family finally put an end to the danger that's threatened all of them. But will putting herself in harm's way be more dangerous than anyone expected?
"Connealy crafts relatable characters who will inspire readers with their love, loyalty, and fortitude, and the mystery remains intriguing until the end." Publishers Weekly
“Recommended for those who enjoy a fast, smart historical-set suspense." RT Book Reviews
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EXCERPT: CHAPTER ONE, PART TWO
TOO FAR DOWN
BY MARY CONNEALY
Skull Gulch, New Mexico Territory
February 1881
Fury pushed him faster. He scrambled, fell over stones, and smacked himself in the face so hard he saw stars. Then he was up again and cut the next fuse. With cold purpose he picked up a stick of dynamite, cut its fuse short, and lit it to the still-sparking fuse in his hand, then threw the stick as far as his arm could hurl it.
He watched the dynamite soar high in the air and arch down, hoping the miners farther down the slope, near the burning fuses, would hear it blow and come out to help.
His hand burned. He dropped the still-burning fuse with a desperate toss to get it away from the explosives. The stick of powder he threw detonated in midair, doing no damage but making a deafening sound.
Another fuse burned just ahead. Cole ran for it. He cut it, lit one stick, threw it, and ran on. He saw the first man poke his head out of his claim far below.
The man took in everything in a second, ran to the closest stack of explosives, and cut the fuse before it could blow. Another man emerged. These men knew dynamite, knew what that box meant. They went to work saving themselves. Cole cut another, then another, and another. He hurled a lit stick every time, trying to alert the miners.
Then he heard another explosion. Sickened at who might’ve been in its path, he whirled toward the sound. The remnants of the blast colored the air below. Someone had figured out what he was doing and had thrown a single stick of dynamite to warn those farther down.
More men appeared. Fuses were cut. Sticks of dynamite were set off as a warning to all.
Finally he dropped to his knees by the last one at this higher level and cut it. His gaze swept the slope below him. He didn’t see a single sparking fuse.
The men waved up at him.
“I’ve got a broken-down mine up here,” he shouted. “Men trapped. We need help.” He didn’t know men were trapped for a fact, but the mine closest to headquarters was big, and a lot of men labored there. He prayed the ones inside had survived. And what other madness awaited him today? Was he asking for help that might lead others to their deaths? He leapt to his feet to go free the trapped men.
The world spun around. His vision blurred and darkened. Blood dripped from his head. By sheer grit he shook off whatever weakness wanted to knock him down.
No sparks in sight. He considered the piles of explosives and, by his own judgment, thought all the dynamite was accounted for now.
He couldn’t be positive, of course, as some sticks could have been unboxed and set to blow separately. But he saw no sign of them.
He trusted his instincts about the dynamite and trusted his miners to be on the lookout. Then he sprinted back toward the collapsed new mine. Several miners that he’d just saved came up behind him, took one stricken look at him, and approached him. He knew he was bleeding but didn’t have time to get a bandage.
“No, I’m fine. Come back to the new mine. It’s collapsed.” He left them behind to do as they wished.
Murray was doctoring a man sprawled out on the ground. Murray had been here running the mine when Cole came home from living in Boston for a few years. Cole had seen how smart the man was and had given him a raise and kept him on as an assistant. Murray had his own cabin here as part of his salary, and he even had his own claim and worked it during free hours.
Other men were working on the wounded, separating them from the dead. Yet others were digging at the blocked mine entrance. More men came every minute.
His teeth clenched, Cole rushed toward the miners who were clawing at the entrance to the mine. “Is anyone in there?”
One burly youngster with a full beard stopped digging with his hands.
“There are twelve or fifteen men in there, boss. A couple of the men ran to get shovels while we start the digging.” “Twelve or fifteen?” Cole looked with dismay at the wall of rubble that filled the entrance. They had at least five feet of rock to clear if they hoped to reach his men.
“Yep, maybe more. We’ve lost count of who’s missing. The first explosion went off right by this entrance. We saw you fighting the rest of those fuses.” The youngster paused and added, “Boss, you’re bleedin’ pretty bad. You need to let someone wrap your . . . your whole head and face.”
Cole saw the worry in the kid’s eyes and wondered how bad he was hurt. Plenty bad, going by the loss of blood. “I’ll be fine. You’re bleeding, too.” The kid’s arms were bleeding from working with the stones with his bare hands. “Everyone is.”
“Well, you’re a little worse than most.” But the kid turned back and attacked the wall of stones blocking the entrance. A man who let another man make his own choices. Cole respected that.
A clatter drew Cole’s attention, and two miners, coated in dirt, came running with their arms full of shovels and pickaxes. Cole grabbed a shovel and attacked the cave entrance. He glanced over to see Murray carrying a man over his shoulder toward the company office.
He dug. And dug and dug. With so many of them working, they got in each other’s way and had to dodge flying rocks. For all the danger, they still dug.
Hours passed, though Cole had no idea just how many, only that all this had started early in the day, and now the sun was past its peak.
At last one of the men shouted, “I’m through into the mine!”
They fell to working on the tiny opening with renewed strength. It soon grew, and before it was big enough to crawl through, a voice came from behind the collapsed stones. “We’re here—we can see light. We’re digging from this side.”
A ragged cheer went up from his men. The worst hadn’t happened. The cave hadn’t completely collapsed and buried all the men inside.
Mary Connealy writes "romantic comedies with cowboys" and is celebrated for her fun, zany, action-packed style. She has more than half a million books in print. She is the author of the popular series Wild at Heart, Kincaid Brides, Trouble in Texas, Lassoed in Texas, Sophie's Daughters, and many other books. Mary lives on a ranch in eastern Nebraska with her very own romantic cowboy hero.
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