On a Midnight Clear, page 1
Half Title Page
ON A
Midnight
Clear
Books by the Authors
Books by Tracie Peterson
The Hope of Cheyenne
A Constant Love
Designed with Love
A Moment to Love
The Heart of Cheyenne
A Love Discovered
A Choice Considered
A Truth Revealed
Pictures of the Heart
Remember Me
Finding Us
Knowing You
The Jewels of Kalispell*
The Heart’s Choice
With Each Tomorrow
An Unexpected Grace
Love on the Santa Fe
Along the Rio Grande
Beyond the Desert Sands
Under the Starry Skies
Ladies of the Lake
Destined for You
Forever My Own
Waiting on Love
Willamette Brides
Secrets of My Heart
The Way of Love
Forever by Your Side
The Treasures of Nome*
Forever Hidden
Endless Mercy
Ever Constant
Brookstone Brides
When You Are Near
Wherever You Go
What Comes My Way
Golden Gate Secrets
In Places Hidden
In Dreams Forgotten
In Times Gone By
Heart of the Frontier
Treasured Grace
Beloved Hope
Cherished Mercy
The Heart of Alaska*
In the Shadow of Denali
Out of the Ashes
Under the Midnight Sun
Sapphire Brides
A Treasure Concealed
A Beauty Refined
A Love Transformed
Brides of Seattle
Steadfast Heart
Refining Fire
Love Everlasting
For a complete list of Tracie’s books, visit TraciePeterson.com.
*with Kimberley Woodhouse
Books by Misty M. Beller
Hearts of Montana
Hope’s Highest Mountain
Love’s Mountain Quest
Faith’s Mountain Home
Brides of Laurent
A Warrior’s Heart
A Healer’s Promise
A Daughter’s Courage
Sisters of the Rockies
Rocky Mountain Rendezvous
Rocky Mountain Promise
Rocky Mountain Journey
Books by Karen Witemeyer
A Tailor-Made Bride
Head in the Clouds
To Win Her Heart
Short-Straw Bride
Stealing the Preacher
Full Steam Ahead
A Worthy Pursuit
No Other Will Do
Heart on the Line
More Than Meets the Eye
More Than Words Can Say
Hanger’s Horsemen
At Love’s Command
The Heart’s Charge
In Honor’s Defense
Texas Ever After
Fairest of Heart
If the Boot Fits
Cloaked in Beauty
For a complete list of titles, visit KarenWitemeyer.com.
Title Page
ON A
Midnight
Clear
A 3-in-1
Christmas Novella
Collection
Tracie Peterson,
Karen Witemeyer, and
Misty M. Beller
5
Copyright Page
The Shepherd’s Heart © 2025 by Peterson Ink, Inc.
A Star in the West © 2025 by Karen Witemeyer
No Room at the Inn © 2025 by Misty M. Beller
Published by Bethany House Publishers
Minneapolis, Minnesota
BethanyHouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Ebook edition created 2025
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 9780764245725 paperback | ISBN 9780764245732 (casebound) | ISBN 9781493451326 ebook
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover image © Magdalena Russocka / Trevillion Images
Published in association with Books & Such Literary Management, BooksAndSuch.com.
Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and postconsumer waste whenever possible.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by the Authors
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Shepherd’s Heart
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
No Room at the Inn
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Epilogue
A Star in the West
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
About the Authors
Back Ads
Back Cover
The Shepherd’s Heart
CHAPTER 1
Nebraska
September 1875
For a moment that dawn, everything seemed completely perfect. The temperature was just right, chilly but not cold. The routine aroma of coffee suggested that all was well in the world—that Pa was up and preparing to face the day.
Angellyn snuggled down in her quilt and tried to go back to sleep, but then the awful truth seeped into her thoughts. She tried to push the memories aside, but they surged through her mind too fast, like water spilling over a flooded dam.
Yesterday was to have been her wedding day. She was to be Mrs. Cameron Johnson. At twenty-eight, Angel thought Cam was probably her last chance at romance since the war had killed off so many of the men she’d grown up with. And while she hadn’t been all that much in love with him, Cam had been someone with whom she thought she could make a future and eventually love.
But Cam had other ideas. While Angel was dressed in bridal white, waiting for her cue to join her father at the back of the church, Cam was already miles away with another woman. A much younger woman. He’d left a note that his best man had been instructed to bring two minutes before the ceremony. He didn’t want to give anyone time enough to come after him. Granny Duran was the one to bring it to Angel. The look on her face left Angel no doubt the news wasn’t good.
Without any real explanation, Cam penned his farewell, letting Angel know that he’d found someone else and hadn’t the courage to tell Angel face-to-face that he was breaking off their engagement.
The embarrassment of having her father go out and let everyone know that the wedding had been canceled was almost more than Angel could bear. It had been hard enough being the one and only spinster of their small Nebraska town, but now this. She pulled the covers over her head with no plan to ever leave her bed again.
Angel hadn’t thought going back to sleep even possible, but soon enough found herself dreaming of an open field of new spring grass. She stretched out on the ground as she often loved to do and stared up at the skies. Large white clouds drifted across the expanse, and Angel found it impossible to keep her eyes open. As she lay there, everything seemed so lovely. She was at peace, and it felt so wonderful.
Then she heard someone call her name. Not her full name, but one reserved for family.
“Angel, fear not. You will have a husband by Christmas.”
The words caused Angel to come awake immediately. She sat straight up in bed and glanced around the room for the source of the voice. She was alone, and the sun was now streaming in through her window where what seemed only moments ago had barely been light.
She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. For a moment, she continued to glance around the room as if she might see the person who had spoken, but there was no one there.
The words echoed in her head. “Angel, fear not. You will have a husband by Christmas.”
Angel shook her head. “It’s the twentieth of September. How can I possibly have a husband by Christmas? I mean I know God can do anything He wants, but . . .” She sighed. It was a dream and nothing more. “Wait until I tell Granny.”
Granny Duran was their closest neighbor, and while not at all related, she had taken on the role of grandmother to Angel and her brother. She lived on the small farm next to the Lewises’ sheep farm with her husband, John Quincy Duran, who still did his best to keep his land planted in wheat despite his rheumatism and lumbago.
These days, Angel spent more time at Granny’s than at home. She did what she could to help the older couple with some of the physical chores that were starting to be a problem. Both were over seventy, and there was great concern about them living through another winter unharmed by the cold and snows. But of course they wouldn’t admit this to anyone. John Quincy was much too proud to admit he needed help.
Given the situation Cam had put her in, Angel figured her winter would be best spent helping the older couple. After all, there was no one else who really needed her like they did. Her father and oldest brother, Mark, shared ownership of the farm. Mark and his family lived at the house, and Mark’s wife, Ruth, was more than capable of keeping her home and children in order. Recently they had purchased some land next door, and their plans were to double the size of their flock of merino sheep.
Angel’s nephews Jacob and Jason were quickly coming of age and were already great help to their father and grandfather. Mark and Ruth’s two daughters, Sarah and Sharon, ages thirteen and twelve, were their mother’s constant shadows. And while Angel had once been quite useful to Ruth in helping with the children, Ruth had very little need of Angel now. In fact, at times Angel felt very much in the way. It was one of the reasons she had agreed to marry Cam. Her heart’s desire was to start a family of her own. Unfortunately, that hadn’t worked out.
Making her way to Granny and John Quincy’s small two-story farmhouse, Angel gave considerable thought to suggesting she move in with the couple for the winter. She could help with housework and laundry, as well as cooking and animal chores. No one would even miss her at home. When she and Cam had talked about the future, they had plans to live in town, where Cam would be close enough to walk to his railroad job. But of course, none of that mattered now. Cam was long gone.
The arrangement with Granny and John Quincy was that their home was Angel’s too. She didn’t bother to knock as she made her way into the house through the back door. This opened into the kitchen, and there she found Granny already bent over the stove, loading wood.
“Let me do that for you,” Angel said, grabbing some of the slender split pieces of cottonwood.
Granny Duran straightened with a hand to her back. “It’s gonna come a rain. I feel it in my bones.”
Angel continued to put wood in the fire. “Are you about to do some baking?”
“Planned to. Got bread to make.” She motioned to the counter, where a dish towel concealed the contents below.
“I’ll help.” Angel closed the door on the stove and turned to Granny. “Maybe I can make a pie for John Quincy.” Even though the man was more than forty years her senior, she’d always called him John Quincy like most everyone else. It was just the way the older man preferred it.
“He’d like that for sure. Lots of apples. I was figuring to get some canned.”
“I can help with that too. Fact is, I was thinking on a plan for winter. Maybe I could come and stay with you two. Things are pretty crowded at our place.”
“We’d sure have you here in a heartbeat, child. Goodness knows it’s getting hard for us to keep up with everything. I think this may be our last year here. John Quincy can’t be responsible for planting another year. We’ve talked of hiring someone to tend it for us and share the crop profits.”
“Why not ask Vincent to come back?” Angel’s reference to the grandson Granny and John Quincy had raised brought a look of disapproval.
“He’s got enough pain and misery. Doesn’t need to feel obligated to help us. Wyoming was a dream he shared with his wife, one that he hopes to pass on to his children.”
“Well, we should pray about it.” Angel pulled on an apron and went to where the bread was rising. She pulled the dish towel from atop four loaf pans. “Say, I have to tell you something funny.”
Granny gave her a sympathetic smile. “Are you gonna just avoid talking about what happened yesterday?”
Angel shook her head. “No, but I didn’t see any reason to dwell on it. Cam was a cad, and I’m sorry to have so thoroughly misjudged him. It was never a great love, as you know full well. Goodness, Granny, you warned me.”
“I just didn’t want you marrying someone you really didn’t know. I’m not against arranged marriages or even ones of convenience when folks know each other.”
“I agree. I’m sure it’s easier to fall in love with someone you know than with a stranger.”
“And someday you will fall in love and have a great time of it, Angellyn. That is my prayer for you.”
“Well, maybe it’ll still happen. Right now, I’m embarrassed by the whole thing. If I were a wealthy woman, I think I’d get on board the train and go as far away from here as possible. Set up housekeeping miles from this place and settle myself on the notion that God has called me to be alone. That way I’d never have to explain what happened to anyone.
“But here’s that funny thing I wanted to tell you, Granny. I was asleep in my bed one minute, and the next I heard this strange voice telling me, ‘Angel, fear not. You will have a husband by Christmas.’ Scared me to pieces. I jumped up out of bed thinking someone had snuck into my room. Maybe one of Mark’s boys playing a trick on me. But it wasn’t. What do you think of that?” Angel started carrying the pans of dough to the stove.
When Granny said nothing, Angel glanced up before opening the oven door. The look on Granny’s face was one of utter surprise.
“What’s wrong, Granny?” Angel turned her attention back to the bread and put the loaf pans into the oven, then returned for the last two. Still Granny said nothing.
When the bread was secured, Angel checked the time. It was exactly eight thirty. “These should be ready at the top of the hour. Now tell me why my comment has you so stumped.”
“I’m not stumped, child. I’m thinking the Lord Himself has spoken.”
“And said what?” Angel asked, laughing.
“That He plans to have a husband for you by Christmas. And I think I know exactly who it is that He has in mind.”
Angel could see that Granny was serious. “What are you saying?”
Granny motioned Angel to follow her into the front room. Granny went to her writing desk and pulled out an envelope. She took a letter from inside and looked at Angel.
“Let me read you something.” She unfolded the pages and cleared her throat. “‘Granny, the truth is I need a wife. I need her by Christmas.’”
It was Angel’s turn to be surprised. “Who wrote that?”
“Vincent.”
Angel took a seat and considered the words Granny had said. Vincent Duran was Granny’s only grandson. His folks had been killed when he was young, and Granny and John Quincy had raised him. Vincent was best friends with Angel’s brothers, Mark and Sam. Angel considered him a friend, as well.
Vincent had been a part of her entire life. He was ten years older than she was and had married some years earlier. The guys had another friend, Zed Martin, whose sister had caught Vincent’s attention. Elsa had been everything Angel wasn’t. Elsa was a dark-haired beauty with deep brown eyes, while Angel was blond and blue-eyed. Elsa had been tall and shapely where Angel was short and rather pudgy, at least in her teen years. Everyone had thought Elsa the most beautiful woman in the entire state, and even Mark had tried to court her. But it was Vincent who captured her heart.
“You know Elsa died last February. The children all took measles, and she caught them herself. She was expecting their fourth child in just a few months.” Granny looked up and shook her head. “The two oldest made it through, but little Paul and Elsa were too weak. They passed within days of each other.”
“I remember. It made me so sad. I’ve often prayed for Vincent and his children. That’s why I mentioned asking him to come here and help you.”
Granny didn’t seem to hear her. “Benjamin is nine and Ava seven. It’s a bad age to lose a mother . . . not that there is ever a good age.” Granny looked back at the letter. “Vincent asked me to help him find a wife . . . one who could relocate to the Wyoming Territory immediately. One who loved children and preferably knew about—”
“Sheep,” Angel spoke before Granny could finish.
Vincent had learned all about sheep farming from her father and grandfather. He had trained with her brothers since he’d been about thirteen. That was why Vincent was such a constant part of her life. She had never really known a time when he wasn’t around.
