Indigo Blue Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - Portland, 1885

  Chapter 2 - Wolf’s Landing, 1885

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Teaser chapter

  Prologue

  Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author Catherine Anderson and Her Novels

  Indigo Blue

  “A heartwarming adventure [that] will touch each and every one of the emotions.”

  —Catherine Hart, author of Night Flame

  “A marvelous, moving, poignant, and sensual love story. . . . Ms. Anderson holds her readers spellbound.”

  —Romantic Times

  “[A] well-crafted story with moments of true poignancy and an absolutely dynamic ending.”

  —Deana James, author of Acts of Passion

  Comanche Heart

  “Riveting, passionate, and powerful . . . everything a romance should be.”

  —Amanda Quick

  “Highly sensual and very compelling . . . a truly spectacular read.”

  —Linda Lael Miller

  “I thoroughly enjoyed [Comanche Heart].”

  —Karen Robards

  Star Bright

  “Catherine Anderson brilliantly grabbed my attention . . . an emotionally moving and romantic treat that you’re sure to enjoy.”

  —Night Owl Romance Reviews

  “A tense, well-crafted, riveting tale that keeps the suspense on-target.”

  —LJXpress

  “This is a truly enchanting read.”

  —Romantic Times

  Morning Light

  “Poignant and richly rewarding.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A story not to be missed.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “It may be impossible for Ms. Anderson to write a bad book.”

  —Huntress Book Reviews

  “Poignant and truly wonderful.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  Sun Kissed

  “Vivid descriptions, realistic family relationships . . . and a dash of suspense make this heartwarming, gently sensual romance a satisfying read.”

  —Library Journal

  “Anderson is at her best when it comes to telling stories that are deeply emotional and heartfelt.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars)

  Summer Breeze

  “A stunning romance . . . an unmatched reading adventure.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars)

  “You’ll not want to put it down. It engages the intellect and emotions; it’ll make you care. It will also make you smile . . . a lot. And that’s a guarantee.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  My Sunshine

  “Sweet and sensual.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A richly rewarding experience for any reader.”

  —Booklist

  “Another winner from Anderson’s compassionate pen.”

  —Library Journal

  Blue Skies

  “Readers may need to wipe away tears . . . since few will be able to resist the power of this beautifully emotional, wonderfully romantic love story.”

  —Booklist

  “A keeper and a very strong contender for Best Contemporary Romance of the Year.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Bright Eyes

  “Offbeat family members and genuine familial love give a special lift to this marvelous story. An Anderson book is a guaranteed great read!”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)

  Only by Your Touch

  “Ben Longtree is a marvelous hero whose extraordinary gifts bring a unique and special magic to this warmhearted novel. No one can tug your heartstrings better than Catherine Anderson.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)

  “A masterpiece! It has everything readers want in a romance. Don’t miss this wonderful book!”

  —Romance Fiction Forum

  Always in My Heart

  “Emotionally involving, family-centered, and relationship-oriented, this story is a rewarding read.”

  —Library Journal

  “[A] superbly written contemporary romance [that] features just the kind of emotionally nourishing, comfortably compassionate type of love story this author is known for creating.”

  —Booklist

  Sweet Nothings

  “Pure reading magic.”

  —Booklist

  “Fans . . . will devour Anderson’s latest offering.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Phantom Waltz

  “Romantic through and through.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A truly wonderful read.”

  —Romantic Times

  Other Novels by Catherine Anderson

  The Comanche Series

  Comanche Moon

  Comanche Heart

  “Harrigan Family” Novels

  Morning Light

  Star Bright

  Early Dawn

  “Coulter Family” Novels

  Phantom Waltz

  Sweet Nothings

  Blue Skies

  Bright Eyes

  My Sunshine

  Summer Breeze

  Sun Kissed

  Other Signet Books

  Always in My Heart

  Only by Your Touch

  SIGNET

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a HarperPaperbacks edition. Published by arrangement with the author.

  First Signet Printing, May 2010

  Copyright © Adeline Catherine Anderson, 1992

  All rights reserved

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-19770-7

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

&
nbsp; This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To my husband, Sid,

  who came to me from where the sun rises

  and who will walk with me to where the sun sets,

  always my guiding light, always the strength at my side,

  always the impetus behind me. When I am but a whisper

  on the wind, listen closely, for I will be calling,

  “Nei-na-su-tama-habi.”

  Dear Readers:

  As I said at the beginning of Comanche Moon and Comanche Heart, I am truly delighted and grateful that New American Library/Signet is reissuing my Comanche series. So many of you have tried for so long to get all these titles, and it grieves me greatly to know that some of you have paid exorbitant prices for used paperback copies. Now, thanks to my publisher, all of the Comanche series will eventually become available at fair market prices, and my readers will come away from the store with a brand- new book with a tasteful and attractive cover. How awesome is that?

  In Indigo Blue, a sequel to Comanche Moon and Comanche Heart, you will be reunited with Indigo Wolf, the daughter of Hunter and Loretta, the hero and heroine in Comanche Moon. You first met Indigo in Comanche Heart when she was still an innocent adolescent who wore her heart on her sleeve and believed she would be judged by others for who she was, not for the color of her skin. Now Indigo is older, wiser, and disillusioned. She realizes that her Native American heritage does set her apart and, in many instances, makes her a target for racism. Caught between the white and Comanche worlds, she walks a fine line, clinging to the ways of her father’s people and the beauty of nature as she struggles to mesh with white society. In short, Indigo is a curious blend of innocence and rebellion, strength and vulnerability, a lovely girl in buckskin clothing who is ever conscious of the injustices that may be inflicted upon her because of her bloodlines.

  When Jake Rand comes to Wolf’s Landing under false pretenses to run Hunter Wolf’s mine, he is instantly attracted to Indigo, but is also bewildered by her. He never expects to find himself obligated to ask for Indigo’s hand in marriage in order to save her reputation. But that is precisely what happens, and Jake finds himself wed to a beautiful girl he quickly comes to love but can’t, for the life of him, understand.

  I invite you to turn the page now and step into Indigo’s world. I hope you enjoy reading this extraordinary love story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  Sincerely,

  Catherine Anderson

  Prologue

  Oregon, 1866

  RAIN LASHED JACOB RAND’S FACE, THE streaming rivulets on his cheeks blending with his tears to puddle in a salty pool in the cleft of his upper lip. A soppy hank of black hair dangled in his eyes. His vision blurred so that he could no longer clearly see his mother’s grave. Not that it mattered. The downpour had made fast work of flattening the freshly mounded dirt. If not for the rock he had used to mark the spot, her burial place would have looked no different from the other churned-up mud. He wished his pa had taken time to whittle a cross, but as always, there was work to be done. Pa had helped with the digging, stayed to get Ma laid out right, and said some prayers. But cross whittling had to come later, after the daylight ran out. Times were hard, and it was up to Pa to feed them all.

  Doubling one fist, Jacob scrubbed at his eyes, determined not to cry in front of his sisters. Now that Ma was gone, looking after the girls was up to him, the eldest. He had promised to do a good job, and he knew Ma was counting on him.

  He glanced down at three-year-old Sarah, who stood beside him sniveling. He wished he could switch places with his younger brother, Jeremy, and be down at the creek working. Why did he have to be the one to finish up and say the final words? He didn’t shine much to talking. He had already said the Lord’s Prayer. Most of it anyways. He didn’t know any others except for the supper blessing, and that didn’t seem fitting. He reckoned he ought to finish up by saying something nice over Ma, but he couldn’t think what. If only Jeremy was there. Right now, his gift for tonguing a subject to death would come in handy.

  Sarah mewled again. He wished she’d hush. Fat chance. She looked like she was sucking alum. A string of snot dripped from her nose to her upper lip. He didn’t have a handkerchief, so he made a quick swipe with his sleeve. Sarah snuffled, then sobbed, which made air erupt from her nostrils. He made another swipe.

  Poor Sarah. Her black high-tops were clumped with red mud. Her tattered shirt, a castoff of Jacob’s, clung like a sodden second skin to her bony shoulders. Beneath the hem, her knobby little knees were as red as apples from the cold. She gulped and shuddered, her tiny face twisting.

  Jacob drew her close. Ma claimed a hug spoke a thousand words. The smell of urine floated up to him, and he realized she must have wet herself last night. Guilt washed over him. He had promised to take care of her and here she was, soaked, freezing, and as smelly as a cow pen in August. A fine job he was doing so far. She nuzzled her face against his side. He knew she was wiping her nose on him. Ma always scolded her for doing such, but he didn’t have the heart.

  Fresh tears burned behind his eyelids, and he dragged in a breath. He remembered quarreling with Mary Beth yesterday, right before Ma started feeling poorly. Then he recalled how he had played with Jeremy up on the hill, putting off his chores until later. Now Ma was gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. Nothing. He couldn’t even say how sorry he was.

  His stomach churned with hunger, and his knees knocked with weakness. It didn’t seem right, feeling hungry, but he hadn’t eaten since yesterday at noon, and grave digging was hard work.

  Almost as hard as mining for gold . . .

  “It’s muddy down there.” Sarah gazed at the grave, then looked up, imploring him with her big brown eyes to set her world aright. Dripping strands of black hair stuck to her cheeks. She shivered so hard her teeth clacked. “Why do we gots to put her in the mud?”

  Jacob had no answers. If there was a God, he was a far piece from here. Somewhere in California, more than likely, where the sun never stopped shining. If Jacob was God, that’s where he would be.

  From the far side of the grave, eight- year-old Mary Beth said, “Ma ain’t here anymore, kitten. She’s gone away to heaven to live with angels.”

  Jacob watched Mary Beth, willing her to say more. Something about harps and gowns and streets paved in gold. If Sarah kept picturing Ma with mud all over her face, she’d be plagued by nightmares for a year. As always, Mary Beth did just the opposite of what Jacob wished. Her mouth settled into a grim line, and she said no more. Still hopeful, he slid his gaze to six-year-old Rebecca, but she stood as still as a statue, gaze fixed, face white, her black hair hanging in wet streams.

  It looked as if it was up to him. He gave Sarah’s shoulder a pat. “Heaven’s a fine place. There’s nothin’ but white horses up there, and the angels are all gussied up in fancy dresses the likes of which you ain’t never seen.”

  “What kinda dresses?”

  Jacob hesitated. The entire scope of his existence was mining towns, but once a long time ago, he’d gone looking for Pa at the saloon. “I reckon they’re red with black lace.”

  Mary Beth, face mud-smeared and swollen from bawling, puffed up like a toad eyeing a fly. “They ain’t neither! Angels wear
white, Jacob Nathaniel! Don’t go tellin’ lies as gospel.”

  “What difference does it make, Mary Beth?”

  “It just does, that’s all. Red’s one of Satan’s colors, and only bad women wear it.”

  “White then. And quit flarin’ up over the top of Ma’s grave. You might as well walk on it.”

  Sarah, apparently oblivious to their bickering, was still stuck on heaven. “Why didn’t Ma take us with her?” she demanded in a shrill voice. “She taked the baby! Don’t she love us no more? I wanna red dress with black grace.”

  “Lace,” Jacob inserted. “Someday when I’m rich, I’ll buy you one, kitten. An angel dress, any color you want.”

  Jacob’s throat ached. The raindrops felt like pinpricks on his face. Angels? All he could see was mud, and more mud. And when he closed his eyes, all he saw was his mother’s blood.