Uncharted Journey (The Uncharted Series Book 6) Read online

  Books by Keely Brooke Keith

  UNCHARTED

  The Land Uncharted

  Uncharted Redemption

  Uncharted Inheritance

  Christmas with the Colburns

  Uncharted Hope

  Uncharted Journey

  Uncharted Destiny

  Uncharted Promises

  UNCHARTED BEGINNINGS

  Aboard Providence

  Above Rubies

  All Things Beautiful

  Uncharted Journey

  Keely Brooke Keith

  Edenbrooke Press

  Uncharted Journey

  Copyright 2018 Keely Brooke Keith

  Published by Edenbrooke Press

  Nashville, Tennessee

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. For inquiries and information, please contact the publisher at: [email protected]

  Scripture taken from the King James Version. Scriptures marked as “(GNT)” are taken from the Good News Translation - Second Edition © 1992 by American Bible Society. Used by permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names, events are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any events, locations, or persons, alive or otherwise, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Designed by Najla Qamber Designs

  Interior Design by Edenbrooke Press

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Bonus Chapter One of Uncharted Destiny

  Note from the Author

  More Books by Keely Brooke Keith

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  “Good people take care of their animals,

  but wicked people are cruel to theirs.”

  –Proverbs 12:10 (GNT)

  Chapter One

  Half of Eva Vestal’s heart was buried in the shade of an old gray leaf tree on the east side of the Inn at Falls Creek; the other half was strong enough to pull a plow, but as long as she managed the inn well, she wouldn’t have to.

  Eva controlled her footing as she tiptoed between the toy marbles scattered in the office doorway. She sidestepped her six-year-old son, who was sitting on the rag rug, picking out the red marbles to work the addition equations on his slate. Zeke’s chalk screeched against the board, making the only sound in the otherwise quiet inn.

  Eva shifted the two heavy inventory books she was holding to the other arm and glanced at Zeke’s slate. Once again, all of his answers were correct. “Good job, sweetie.”

  Zeke looked up at her with deep-set eyes, just like his father’s. “Write some more, please, Mama.” A short whistle followed his every S sound, thanks to a missing front tooth.

  “You are getting good at arithmetic. I’m proud of you.” Eva slid the thick inventory ledgers onto her desk and wiped Zeke’s slate with her apron. “Want to try something a little harder? Maybe adding double digits?”

  Zeke wrinkled his freckled nose. “What are double digits?”

  “Numbers higher than nine but lower than one hundred.”

  He looked at her like she’d ask him to hitch up the wagon and drive it clear to Good Springs. “Mama, I’m only six!”

  A light chuckle vibrated Eva’s throat. “All right, we can save double digits for another day.” She gripped the dusty piece of chalk and wrote more equations on his slate. “But I will give you some eights and nines.” She probably should have started his schooling last year, but she always had more work than daylight and would until Revel moved back home. Her fingertips tapped the ledger books. “You will have to learn to add big numbers to help run the inn someday.”

  Zeke took his slate and plopped back down on the rug between the office doorway and Eva’s desk. He frowned. “I don’t want to run the inn when I grow up. That’s a lady job.”

  “No, it isn’t. Your grandpa ran the inn before he married your grandma, and your great-grandfather ran the inn and the stables and farmed. And your Uncle Revel will run the inn when he inherits it someday.”

  Probably someday soon, but she kept that part to herself.

  Zeke corralled his marbles between his knobby ankles. His trousers were too short for his growing legs, but Eva didn’t have time to make him a new pair this week. Maybe Claudia could do it. He picked up two red marbles and held them over his face, pretending they were his eyeballs. “I don’t want a job that keeps me inside the house all day.”

  He’d gotten that from his father too. Funny what a kid could inherit from a parent he had never met.

  Zeke shuffled his marbles on the rug, and a few rolled to the hardwood floor and into the hallway. He crawled after them. “When I’m grown up, I’ll work in the stables and have a big white horse and name him Jack.”

  Eva smiled at her son, glad he was looking forward to a life at the inn. He would have to work in the stables and do a lot more around here if Revel didn’t move back.

  As Zeke wiggled his legs, more marbles rolled into the corridor. Eva used her pencil to point at the wayward glass globes. “Pick all those up. If your grandpa or Leonard walks past, they might slip. When older folks fall down, they don’t pop back up like kids do.”

  “Yes, Mama.” He’d inherited his compliant nature from his father too.

  Eva sat at her desk and flipped the reservation book open to today: Wednesday, March 21, 2029. The first day of autumn in the Land. The end of summer had come to the southern hemisphere too quickly this year. If winter brought winds as frigid as last year’s, her father and Leonard might both be crippled by their arthritis. There was no way either of them could work out-of-doors another winter. She had to either convince Revel to come home now or find the right men to take over the jobs.

  She glanced out the window opposite her desk. The mid-morning sun cast the big gray leaf tree’s shadow over the grass between the inn and the greenhouse. Beneath the high limbs of the old tree, an iron bench sat near three engraved stone markers. Her grandfather and grandmother’s graves were close together and her husband was buried a few feet away from them. She’d spent three months as his wife then almost seven years as his widow and God had carried her through every heartbroken day.

  A stone bridge arched over Falls Creek
just beyond the gray leaf tree. None of the other buildings on the inn’s property were visible from the office windows. Her father always said it shouldn’t matter to her because her job was to welcome incoming travelers, not worry about the stables or the farm.

  As the inn’s manager it all mattered to her. If it weren’t for her efforts to get temporary workers, this place wouldn’t be able to sustain itself and stay open for the travelers on the lonely road across the Land.

  She traced a finger down today’s reservation listing. The Overseer of Clover Ridge and his wife should arrive today. Their letter had requested a three-night stay, depending on how their journey was going thus far. She would give them Room 5. That would leave one more double room open in case a family came through later. The three other guest rooms upstairs were already occupied.

  Two traders from Northcrest were staying again tonight in the bunkhouse, so she had four remaining beds available out there. Solomon Cotter, the horse breeder from Riverside, was scheduled to return this week since both the mares he’d bred his stallion with were due to foal soon. It seemed like a waste of time to come all the way out here just for the birth of two horses, but Solo had insisted and Eva’s father had been quick to agree with him. Solo could stay in the bunkhouse like he usually did.

  So that left her with one double room upstairs and three empty beds in the bunkhouse. “Plenty of space tonight,” she said aloud, even though Zeke wasn’t listening.

  His marbles clinked as he added them.

  She looked out at the empty road. “Maybe someone will show up who needs permanent work and just happens to know how to run the stables or the farm. We need a man for each job. Someone with references and experience and the desire to stay out here for good.” And someone so impressive her father actually allowed her to make the hire.

  She opened one of the inventory books. The bottom of the first column listed only twelve tins of lantern fuel. “Let’s also hope a trader from Woodland comes through this week.”

  “Hm?” Zeke asked.

  “Nothing, sweetie.”

  The side screen door creaked open and slapped against the inn’s clapboard exterior, echoing through the hallway. Her father’s gravelly voice followed the racket. “Sorry, very sorry. Wind caught the door again.” Frederick Roberts hobbled into the office’s doorway and leaned against the jamb. He hadn’t set foot inside the office since he’d made Eva the inn’s manager five years ago. He sniffed the air. “What’s Sybil cooking?”

  A hint of browning meat and onions teased Eva’s nose. “Smells like she is starting a roast for this evening.”

  Little Zeke held up his slate. “Look, Grandpa, I can add nines!”

  “Good boy. Very good boy, indeed.” Frederick scratched his chin through his long white whiskers and gazed at Eva. Though it was only ten in the morning, his bloodshot eyes looked like he’d been awake for days. “There was something I meant to tell you, Peach.”

  “What is it?” Eva asked as she turned the page in the inventory book to check the farm supply figures. The hardware list hadn’t been updated in months. She would see to it after lunch, unless Claudia needed help with the housekeeping chores.

  She looked up at her father, who hadn’t answered her yet. He was staring out the window toward the front yard. She followed her father’s line of sight. The inn’s shadow darkened the south lawn. The equinox would begin Earth’s tilt away from the sun. Soon the Antarctic winds would creep across the hills, whistle through the window shutters, and frost the panes.

  But it wasn’t the weather that was on her father’s mind when he stared out at the road like that. It was Mother.

  Zeke handed Eva his slate, breaking her thoughts. “Mama, can I go outside with Leonard now?”

  “It’s may I go. And yes, you may. Be careful!”

  He tore out of the room like any young boy freed from schoolwork.

  Eva held up his slate to show her father Zeke’s work. “It’s a good thing he is a quick learner because he won’t sit still for long lessons.”

  Frederick jolted from his reverie when the screen door slammed. “That boy is just like Revel.”

  “No, he isn’t.” The betrayal of Revel leaving her to manage the inn made any comparison of her son to her brother unacceptable. “Little Zeke is just like his father. Ezekiel never would have abandoned his responsibilities.”

  Her father gave her a look and patted the air. “Calm down, Peach. I meant Zeke reminds me of Revel when he was that age. He just wanted to get gone.”

  “Wanting to be out-of-doors is not the same as…” Eva stood, hoping it would urge her father to forget about his prodigal son and remember his business so she could work on the inventory lists. “What did you want to tell me, Father?”

  He pressed his lips together. “Can’t remember now.”

  “It will come to you.” She picked up the ledger. “I have to go over the pantry list with Sybil before she gets too busy.”

  Frederick didn’t budge from the doorway. He hooked a thumb in his suspenders and mumbled, “I think it had something to do with the horses.”

  “Let me know when you remember.”

  “Or a guest room…”

  “Maybe if you walk out to the stable block and back it will jog your memory.”

  He shifted his weight and grimaced. “My knees can’t take any extra walking today.”

  She lowered her volume even though no guests were in the house at the moment. “Please, look over the reference letters for the man from Southpoint. I think he would manage the farm just fine and so does his former employer. Then, you and Leonard could split the stable work until we find a second man.”

  Frederick snapped his face toward her, the green of his eyes glowing resolutely. “This is still my inn, Peach, and I say who we hire and when. As long as I have a son out there,” he jabbed a crooked finger at the window, “who will inherit all this, I’m waiting for him to come home.”

  Though he was her father, some days it was more like talking to a child than a parent. Eva took a slow breath to keep her emotions from entering her voice. “Even if Revel returns to the inn soon, you still need to hire one more man. Leonard’s back aches as much as your knees do. He requires more and more help with the farming every month. We can’t keep asking more traders to stay extra days to do all the work. We need to hire a permanent man to take over for Leonard.”

  Frederick rapidly shook his head. “Whoever we hire will work alongside Revel his whole life, just like Leonard has worked with me. That’s why Revel should have a say in this.”

  Eva hugged the inventory book to her chest. Revel might never come back, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her father that anymore. His son had left. His wife had left. Her husband had died. No one needed reminding, but he did need to face the truth just like she’d had to long ago. “Father, I want Revel to return as much as you do. But for now, we need to hire two men so we can keep this place running.”

  Chapter Two

  Solomon Cotter clicked at his Shire stallion, encouraging the brawny horse to pull the wagon up another hill. “Almost there, King. Keep going, boy!”

  The draft horse snorted as if this steep hill were nothing to him, just like the hill before it.

  Solo chuckled. “Maybe it isn’t difficult for you, but most horses tucker out climbing away from the river valley.”

  The dirt road’s wheel tracks disappeared over the hill ahead. Golden-topped grasses waved along the side of the road. The open country out here in the middle of the Land was the kind of place a man could be himself, free of routine and ridicule and tyrannical ranch bosses who made their employees miserable.

  The wagon bumped and rattled on the rocky road despite King’s smooth pull, but the three-month-old puppy relaxing against Solo’s leg didn’t care. The little dog was fast asleep as if the wagon bench were a comfy bed.

  King’s muscles contracted under his shiny black coat while he pulled the wagon steadily up the hill. Once atop it, he lifte
d his regal head toward the inn, wordlessly proclaiming their imminent arrival.

  Solo cast his gaze across the sweeping landscape and whistled one long note. The sharp noise woke the puppy. It looked up at Solo with its eyes half shut.

  Solo stroked the fuzzy fur between the dog’s ears. “It’s beautiful country out here, isn’t it?”

  Tree-dotted hills rolled in shades of greens and browns to the western horizon, which was broken in the distance by the stately Inn at Falls Creek. The two-story home’s white clapboard siding shone majestically in the afternoon sunlight, setting it apart from the azure sky and drying grass. Flanked by an L-shaped stable block, the inn stood like a proud general in front of an army of outbuildings, a cottage, and a bunkhouse.

  Solo had slept in that bunkhouse more nights than he could count. However, he knew the number of nights’ stay he had saved up. According to Frederick Roberts’ last letter, Solo had accumulated forty nights’ accommodation through extra trade and the successful breeding of King to two of the inn’s mares. Frederick had agreed to Solo’s request to redeem those forty nights consecutively. And Frederick had said he would keep the reason for that long of a stay private.

  That was one of the best parts about the inn—Frederick’s fairness and understanding. Sybil’s cooking was a close second. The Roberts family’s generous hospitality made running the Land’s only inn look easy. Romantic almost. Even Frederick’s little grandson, Zeke, was already learning the business.

  And Solo was about to make good on a promise to the boy. He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at the young herding dog lying beside him. “Pup, I have a feeling you’re going to like your new owner.”

  King pulled the wagon over the stone bridge that crossed Falls Creek, and Solo’s teeth clattered from the jiggling. Sunlight glinted between the branches of a mature gray leaf tree as Solo drove past. The family had added an iron bench beneath the old tree since his last visit. Must be a nice place to relax in the shade.