Raven's Redemption

By Catherine Boyd

This is the second book in the Windchase Family Trilogy.
At the newly established and increasingly successful Chase the Wind Stables, Raven Windchase, a stunningly beautiful but willful and manipulative horse trainer, meets two magnificent animals: a dangerously unbroken three-year-old Appaloosa horse named Osage, and its owner, the handsome and rich Tom Martin. Raven lays down her cards: she wants Tom, but only as a husband. Shortly before her wedding, Raven is in an accident with a horrific outcome: her long-unused switchblade comes loose in the vehicle and severely injures her. Tom is repulsed by Raven’s new condition, and calls off the wedding. Raven finds herself forced to rely upon Gus, a man her brother had hired to help at the stable, who is torn between his love for her and his dismay at her rejection of God. In the struggle of wills that ensues, Raven uses all of her skills as a manipulator of men’s desires for her to lock Gus into a lifetime of service to her medical needs, while Gus must rely upon his faith in God to preserve his integrity while doing what he must to save Raven’s soul—even if it means leaving the side of the woman he loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Boyd
• Release date: Apr 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311497468

Catherine Boyd

Mary Stormont BS, RN writing as Catherine Boyd is originally from Rockford, IL, but moved to Montana in 1965 to attend college in Bozeman, Montana. She holds a Bachelor of Science Degree in Agricultural Production, Animal Science from Montana State University, and an Associate Degree in Nursing from Rock Valley College, in Rockford, IL. Married to a rancher for twelve years, she lived in the Wilsall, MT area and has ridden much of the country described in "Flight of the Crow", the first book in the Windchase family trilogy. After her divorce she worked as a general ranch hand and a sheepherder before going back to school to become a Registered Nurse, after which she worked in small rural Montana hospitals and nursing homes as Charge Nurse, Director of Nursing, Hospice, and Home Health nursing. Her other books include "Choosing a Nursing Home and Living With Your Choice" (hints and recommendations on how to make the nursing home experience the best it can be), and a short booklet on salvation entitled "Are You Sure? Are You REALLY Going to Heaven?. (free digital and paperback copies available)

Book preview

Raven Windchase was simply stunning. There were no two ways about it. She had inherited her mother’s unique blue eyes and figure, which were in themselves enough to turn a man’s head whenever she entered a room. But she was also bequeathed with her dad’s raven-hued hair and his height. With perfect white teeth and a slender build, Raven never had to say a word to be noticed.

She was also mean.

To her credit she passionately loved two things: her horse and her twin brother, Pen. For the rest of the world, she felt little but disdain. People were meant to be used; that was their purpose in her life. She managed to use Pen a lot also, but she didn’t really mean to. She just didn’t know the difference. But Pen overlooked it because he loved her without limits in return. He took whatever she dished out to him and came back for more, all the while making excuses for her behavior and praying daily that one day Raven would wake up, see herself as others saw her, and change for the better.

The bar was fairly small, the smoke thick, and the lighting low; it was getting a little too crowded for Raven. Wearing a bright red shirt and new jeans, with her black hair pulled back into a ponytail and secured with a red scarf, Raven looked almost like a teenager. Men had started buying her drinks within minutes of her entrance over two hours ago, and she was feeling rather blissful, when three cowboys from the nearby Nekaneet Indian Reserve clattered loudly into the room. As soon as they spotted Raven, they were on her like ducks on a June bug, stalking their prey. They noticed right off that she was accepting drinks from the other men at the bar and seemed already pretty loosened up. Perfect. A few more drinks and they would have her right where they wanted her.

The apparent leader of the three walked up to her first. A handsome man in his mid thirties, Rick took the lead. Smiling broadly at Raven, he approached in a non-threatening manner and began the conversation.

"Good evening, miss. Looks like you’re treating yourself to a night on the town. These folks been taking care of you right so far?

Sure have. Very right as a matter of fact. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. Raven hadn’t been out drinking with anyone for weeks, and she was really enjoying her evening so far. Lots of good-looking men with money they were willing to spend on a girl that seemed willing for pretty much anything. She would play them all until she had had enough, then walk out with her head high, watching their faces fall as they realized that all those drinks and small talk weren’t enough to get her into their beds.

My name’s Rick. And what might your name be, sugar?

Nice to meet you, Rick. But my name’s not sugar. It’s Raven.

Raven, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl. These are my friends, Mike and Greg. Looking for a good time?

I’m already having a good time, Rick. Raven spread her arms wide to include the whole room, the action bringing her red shirt taut across her breasts. Not a man in the room missed the picture that created, with some even actually licking their lips. Raven seemed not to notice. Rick, Greg, Mike, meet my other good friends here tonight. Ya’ll say ‘hey’ to each other. Let’s all be friends, and have a really nice time. Her speech was slurred, but she was looking for another drink already. Who’s buying me the next drink?

Rick was on it. Why, let me Raven. Barkeep, bring her another of whatever she’s drinking tonight. It’s on me.

Someone started the jukebox up and as the music filled the smoky room it seemed the lights had dimmed even lower. Kris Kristofferson was rasping out Help Me Make it Through the Night; the lyrics resonating with every man in the bar. Rick took Raven’s hand and slowly escorted her to the center of the room, where he draped her arms around his neck and began to sway with her to the music. When Kris sang take the ribbon from your hair. Shake it loose and let it fall, Rick reached up and deftly removed the scarf from Raven’s ponytail, letting the magical cloud of blue-black hair tumble around her flushed face and shoulders. He then wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her even closer, their bodies rubbing against each other as they gyrated to the seductive music. Rick’s hands began caressing Raven’s back, working their way lower and lower.

The little warning bell−Raven called it her ‘best friend’−started to tinkle softly somewhere in the back of her brain: ‘Danger.’ She lifted her head away from Rick’s cheek, slowly, languidly, trying to sort out what her brain was trying to tell her. She was confused. The room was a little blurry, and the music was nearly overpowering. Rick was a really good dancer. He had all the right moves. That was it. Moves. Danger rang more loudly in her head.

Raven stopped moving and pulled away from Rick. She had had enough. But she had played enough men to know the look in Rick’s eyes, and he wasn’t about to let it end here. He had paid good money for a drink, and was well on his way to seducing her right into the front seat of his pickup. Raven wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not until he was finished with her. And most likely he would share with Greg and Mike when he was finished. She owed him now. No woman teased Rick and walked away without giving out what was offered.

Raven knew the look. She knew exactly what it meant and she was not about to give this man or any other what they thought she owed them.

Sorry Rick. Give me a few minutes, will you? I really need to use the bathroom. I’ve had a few, you know? Just wait right here for me, honey. I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I’m going to freshen up a bit while I’m in there. See you in a few… and she walked unsteadily past the bar toward the women’s bathroom.

No one saw her slip a piece of paper to the bartender. They nodded slightly to each other as she passed, and the man turned to the phone on the back counter, where he quickly dialed the number on the paper.

Where is she?

Lonesome Dove on Granite Street. 2502 Granite. Better hurry. The horses are getting pretty restless.

Ten minutes later, Raven came out of the bathroom and casually scanned the room. When she didn’t see who she was looking for, she glanced back at the bartender with raised eyebrows. He nodded to her very slightly. She smiled back at him. That was all the reward he needed.

Walking slowly, she asked someone to put on more music, and then walked straight into Rick’s outstretched arms. He had waited for her. She was worth the wait. They began dirty dancing again.

Hurry up! Just hurry up! Raven was very slowly starting to panic. She was feeling like lunch to a pack of lions, and it wasn’t a good feeling. She was just a little too drunk to sober up very fast. She should have skipped those last two drinks.

The door slammed open and a tall man strode into the bar, his eyes searching. Men parted like the Red Sea as Pen walked straight over to his sister. Grabbing her wrist, he jerked her roughly away from Rick, who glared at Pen with rage. He opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it just as quickly. At six feet four inches tall and all muscle, no one wanted to take Pen on.

She’s mine! Pen growled. It’s all over boys. Go find somebody else to play with tonight. His gaze boldly challenged every man in the room. Like I said, she’s mine!

Pen was a little rougher with her than usual. His grip was hurting her wrist and he was walking so fast she was stumbling to keep up.

Wait! My purse!

Where is it?

The bartender has it under the counter.

Pen didn’t let go of her, but rather continued jerking her along with him as he walked over to the bar. The bartender reached under the counter and brought out the small tooled leather bag, handing it quickly to Pen who smiled covertly at him and with a wink said quietly, Thanks, pardner. Then Pen and Raven were out the door and gone.

Pen drove the speed limit back to their apartment, unlike the pace he had maintained driving into town. How his heart sank whenever he got that call. Again. Raven was out drinking again. How could she do that to herself? And to him? Didn’t she know how much it hurt him to see her destroying herself like that? Couldn’t she see how much his heart ached for her? How much he loved her? She was his world. He didn’t think he could live without her, but at the rate she was going she would be dead in just a few years. He scowled, gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Aren’t you going to say anything?

There’s nothing to say.

Look, I know you’re mad as hell, so go ahead and let it out. I can take it. I have before−plenty of times in the past. Just get it over with.

I told you. There’s nothing to say that I haven’t said before. So just shut up. You’re still drunk anyway. Leave me alone.

Yeah. I guess I am pretty drunk. She dozed off, her head leaning against the window. She would probably remember very little about tonight when she woke in the morning.

But Pen would remember. He drove them home in silence, his face hard, set. He could save her in the bars when she called for help, but how would he ever save her from herself?

Chapter 2

Breakfast was a quiet affair consisting only of strong black coffee. They sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the silence deafening, but not unusual for them. They sat slowly sipping the hot drink, not making eye contact.

Raven should have been embarrassed or ashamed. Her behavior was despicable and she knew it. Or at least it would be by anyone else’s standards. But not hers. She was twenty-nine years old, single, and free to do exactly as she pleased, so she usually did. Pen was always there to bail her out when she got in too deep, so there was nothing to worry about.

Pen finally broke the silence. I know you don’t care what I think, but don’t you care even a little bit about what Mom and Dad would say?

Mom and Dad aren’t here, though, are they? They left a long time ago, so no, I don’t care what they might think. And guilt won’t work on me, Pen, you know that.

Pen sighed. How about what I think? How I feel? It makes me sick to watch you destroying yourself. Raven, you’ve got to snap out of this ride you’re on. One of these days you won’t be able to reach me in time and I won’t be there to save you. Think about it!

Raven’s lips curved into a soft, lilting smile. "I know you love me, my dear brother. I also know you won’t ever leave me like the folks did. I don’t mean to hurt you like this, but I can’t seem to help myself. You just keep picking up the pieces and we’ll do fine.

Raven, why don’t you come to church with me? We can sit in the back where you can sort of melt into the crowd. It was Sunday morning and Pen seldom missed church. We’ve got an hour before we have to leave. Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll go together?

She didn’t bother to answer, but there was no way Raven would ever darken the door of any church again if she had anything to say about it. She pushed her chair back from the small table, slowly rose to her feet, and without even a glance at her brother, walked to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Pen would get the message loud and clear.

Raven hated it when Pen mentioned their parents. She knew her behavior would make them both sick at heart, but they were gone. Religion. What good had it ever done for them? For her? She vaguely remembered the night the whole family had attended an old-fashioned tent revival meeting on the Reserve. Her parents had both got saved and their lives had all changed after that. Oh, they were happy all right, happier than any of them had ever been. Raven wasn’t wild about attending church three times a week, but it was OK with her if her brother and her parents wanted to go. She would tag along. She and Pen had been about ten at the time.

And then there had been that terrible spring day. It had been raining steadily for days on end and the creeks were rising rapidly. On a Sunday morning her mom had gone to check on the horses and found her favorite Appaloosa mare stuck nearly belly deep in the mud down by the creek. When she didn’t come back to get ready for church, her dad had gone to see what was keeping her. The waters suddenly rose in a flash flood, and all three were swept away. They found the bodies two days later.

With no relatives in Canada or anywhere else that they knew of, Pen and Raven were alone and lost. Social Services were called in to do something about the twins, but they were having none of that. Their parents, Jesse and Francine Windchase, were tough and independent people who had come up through hard times, and they had raised their children to be tough and independent also. Hearing the grown-ups talking about how they would probably have to separate the twins in order for them to be adopted, Raven and Pen had come up with a plan and soon simply vanished.

The Indian Reserve was huge in land area, and the Windchases had a lot of close friends there. Raven and Pen started moving from one family to another, never staying very long in one place. It was spring and school was already out when their parents had been swept away, so camping out in the hills was a good option for them also. They had three summer months to hide out until school started, when they would have to make new plans.

But after three months, the government people didn’t seem to care anymore. No one came looking for them again. Families on the Reserve became accustomed to them coming and going and barely blinked when they showed up. They were well fed and given rooms to sleep in wherever they went. Some of the born-again families home schooled their kids, and the twins got their education in those homes where they were welcomed warmly.

The years passed. They completed high school, and rented a small apartment together. Pen worked odd jobs as he could find them. Raven had inherited her mother’s affinity and talent with horses, and made her living breaking and training colts. Between them they did all right financially, and were working hard at saving up as much as they could. Their mutual dream was to someday own a riding and training stable. Pen would do the maintenance and bookkeeping, and Raven would do most of the training, with Pen helping out sometimes as needed with the occasional rough stuff. Their goal was several years away, but they were making progress. They had real hope of realizing their dream−if Raven didn’t manage to get herself killed first.

Well, so far she was doing just fine. Men liked her, her brother was the rock in her life, and she was living just as she pleased. But it was Sunday and last night had been a little rough. She really needed to sleep. Maybe one more small drink to help her drift off.

She heard the front door open and close when Pen left for church. Raven, her hand to her forehead, walked slowly to the kitchen and poured herself a small scotch, neat. She slept most of the afternoon.

Pen saw the glass in the sink when he got home. He did not see or speak to her for the rest of the day.

Chapter 3

Life continued on in the usual routine for the twins. Up early for whatever work they had lined up, and to bed early so the pattern could be repeated in the same way, day after day. But Raven started hitting the bars every weekend instead of once or twice a month. She gained a reputation, and it started to spread. Soon there wasn’t a bar within fifty miles where the patrons weren’t familiar with Raven Windchase. Some accepted her for who she was, just a girl out for a good time. Others wanted a lot more from her and tried various methods to seduce her.

Most of the time Raven was able to extricate herself without any trouble and didn’t have to call her brother. There was a time or two, however, that he had to step in again and rescue her. He never said he was her brother, but instead inferred that Raven was his girlfriend. Men generally respected that, and willingly gave up when Pen would roughly grind out She’s mine. That was his standard line and it always worked.

There were the times she didn’t bother to call Pen, but took care of things herself. Heaven help the man who pushed her too hard. Anyone who didn’t back off when she told them to paid for the insult in some way. Her favorite was handing out a little justice with the switchblade she carried in her boot. More than one cowboy had left the bar intending to head home only to find one or more tires slashed on his vehicle after a run-in with Raven. The number of ruined tires would correspond with the degree to which the cowboy had pushed Raven for more than she was willing to give. It happened so seldom that no one had put the facts together and realized it was her that was slashing the tires. No one dreamed that Raven carried a switchblade in her boot, and it remained her secret.

Another favorite of hers was keying vehicles. She actually enjoyed doing that on a fairly regular basis. She keyed vehicles in different places, some obvious, and some not so obvious. It had become a game to her.

She was also pretty good at running up a tab for any man that was overly aggressive with her. She would hang out with one cowboy, drinking heavily as the man bought her drinks. Soon, when he thought he was getting somewhere with her, she would appear more drunk than she actually was, and would order a round for everyone in the bar to be put on his tab. Once that had happened, most bartenders would do it over and over when Raven would quietly approach the bar and tell the bartender something like Fred said to go with one more round for everyone. Of course Fred never said anything of the kind, and never knew what had happened until Raven stumbled out of the bar and headed for home, leaving poor Fred to settle up. Raven was expensive!

About once a month Pen would try to get Raven to come to church with him. He knew she wouldn’t come, but there was no hope at all if there was no invitation.

What did God ever do for Mom and Dad? Hell−they died on a Sunday morning when they were going to church. God just killed them! And for what? And what has God ever done for me? Left me an orphan at ten. He left you an orphan too, Pen. I don’t see why on earth you bother to go to church.

There was no reasoning with Raven on this subject. She was convinced that God didn’t deserve her respect, let alone her worship. While she dimly believed He existed, in her mind He was an evil, useless entity, and He meant nothing to her. He could have saved her parents. They were good people. But He didn’t. And He couldn’t save her either. Not from the world, and not from herself.

Raven started doing drugs along with the drinking. And she got worse. She may have been in trouble, but she was also a smart girl and it wasn’t long before she realized that she had a problem, and while she had always believed she could stop her behavior any time she wanted to, now she suspected that might be harder than she had first thought, and it scared her.

She couldn’t tell her brother what was happening to her. How could she? The hurt in his eyes would be more than even she could take. Somehow, some way, she was going to have to dry herself out. But how to do it without going to a rehab place, in which case not only Pen, but everyone she knew would know?

Months passed with Raven getting in deeper and deeper. She began hitting the bars even more often, taunting and flirting with men, calling on Pen to come and get her more frequently. Then one night she finally had a real wake-up call, and Raven got scared.

When you live in Canada, on an Indian Reserve, there are only so many bars within a few hours driving distance. Eventually Raven’s reputation really started to catch up with her. The regulars knew her well. Some were tolerant and some were not.

One night she happened to hit one of her more favorite bars and Raven’s luck ran out. Rick, whom she had taunted and flirted with mercilessly a few months ago, walked in and within minutes had spotted Raven. It was clear from the look in his eyes that he meant to collect on what she had blatantly promised that other night.

Raven barely remembered the man, since she was already very drunk. That old friend of hers, that warning bell somewhere in the back of her brain, began to throb dully, but she was a little too drunk to care. Besides, Raven had taken some mild drugs, which compounded her euphoria and sense of power. When Rick approached her with another drink, she pawed him and gulped the drink down. Two slow, provocative dances later, Rick had Raven in the cab of his pickup and he was not about to let her go this time.

Raven had slipped the paper with Pen’s number to the bartender on her way out with Rick, and the bartender had done his duty. But Pen never came.

Raven was in the pickup with Rick, senses dulled but still conscious enough to know just how far she was willing to go, waiting for her hero brother to show up. But he didn’t come.

Raven began to try to slow Rick down, but he was having none of it. He had paid for Raven with his time and free drinks. He meant to collect.

Panic infused her and she began to struggle. She fought, and she fought like the wildcat she was. Perhaps a somewhat tranquilized wildcat, but she fought nonetheless. Rick only laughed and continued his onslaught, but he didn’t know Raven.

Where’s that boyfriend of yours now, girl? he sneered.

He’s coming. He’ll be here any minute now!

Well, sugar, I think he’s gonna be a little too late tonight, so why don’t you just lay back and enjoy it! I promise to make it real memorable for you. This will be a night you won’t ever forget. He lowered his face for a kiss, his fetid breath nearly making her vomit.

With his weight on top of her, she was unable to get away, but she was now awake enough to think more clearly. Where was Pen? Why wasn’t he coming? Pen! Her brain kicked into overdrive as she frantically thought of a way to escape. Suddenly she forced her body to relax, and the change in her attitude puzzled Rick.

Hey cowboy. Raven made her voice as seductive as she could. Slow down, OK? I give up. You can have what you want, but stop pushing me so hard. I want to enjoy this, so let me take my boots off first. She placed one hand on Rick’s chest and reached for her boot with the other.

Rick smiled at her supposed capitulation, and kissed her soundly, relaxing his grip. Suddenly the knife was in her hand and as she deftly pressed the release button the small clicking sound was deafening as the blade snapped open. The point was against Rick’s stomach before he realized what had happened.

What the…? the cowboy stammered as he drew back, his gaze fixed on the sharp point of the knife.

Raven never said a word, but kept the knife pointed lethally at the stunned cowboy. Her eyes blazed fire at Rick, but she never uttered a sound. She didn’t know where Pen was, but she wasn’t about to wait around for him any longer. She snapped her shirt together with her free hand, then reached behind her and opened the cab door. She slid slowly and carefully out of the pickup and slammed the door. Keeping her gaze fixed on the drunken cowboy through the window, she quickly bent and slashed one front tire and then the other with her knife. Air rushed out with a sound that registered the finality of the night’s episode as Raven faded into the cold Canadian darkness, leaving Rick stunned and madder than he had ever been in his life.

A friend found Raven walking along the deserted road and gave her a ride back to her apartment around four in the morning.

Pen was livid, and frantic. Raven, where the hell have you been? Are you OK?

Yeah, I’m fine, but Pen, you didn’t come. I called and you never came! How could you leave me like that?

I’m sorry, sis, but I got a flat tire. I didn’t have a spare with me, so there was just no way for me to get to you. By the time I was able to flag down a ride I figured you had probably already found a way out of whatever was going on, so I just went home. The tire’s still flat−I’ll have to wait until Monday to get it fixed. I’m so sorry. You sure you’re OK? She looked OK to him, but there was something else in her eyes. Something had changed with his sister and he was worried. Again.

Raven looked at him with a vacant stare, then turned and walked slowly to her room. She closed the door softly and went straight to bed, fully clothed. Lying in the dark, alone, tears flowed unnoticed down both cheeks. Raven was in trouble, and she knew it.

Finally one Sunday morning several weeks later, while nursing a whopper of a hangover, she had an idea. She could pull it off with no one suspecting, she was sure.

Raven had just started working with two colts for a hunting guide on the Reserve. He would be using them for extended hunting trips in the future, and they needed to learn to be ridden, picketed, packed, and comfortable in the wilderness. Raven could teach them all of that. She could take them up into the hills for a couple of months, train the colts to perfection, and make some good money at the same time. She could also dry herself out with no one watching. Yes. It could work. She just needed to convince Pen and the colts’ owner. So far no one knew she had been doing drugs along with her drinking, and with luck, no one would ever know. She could sober up, change her ways, and turn her life around. She was mean and wild, but she was young and didn’t have a death wish. And she was smart enough to know that death would surely be an early visitor if she didn’t do something about how she was living, and soon.