Free To Win Her Heart by Karen Witemeyer

distributed only to convicts who attend weekly Bible classes and worship services. Those who demonstrate a spiritual commitment will receive a copy as a gift upon their release.”
    Mr. Carson scratched at his beard. “I can’t rightly say that buying Bibles is a bad idea, but I’m not sure I want them going to criminals. My brother, the one up in Jewett, was robbed last year. The thief shot him in the arm and made off with a week’s worth of earnings. His arm ain’t worked right since. If he didn’t have that boy o’ his, he would’ve had to close up shop.” The saddler dropped his hand from his chin to massage his shoulder as his gaze swept over his merchandise. “It might seem un-Christian to you, but I can’t see my way to helping men who would steal from decent folk and not think twice about shooting them for their trouble.”
    Eden couldn’t blame the man. She hadn’t been in favor of the idea either. Yet, instead of thanking him for his time, she felt an inner urging to make a final plea.
    “What if your donation led to the conversion of one of those criminals? What if he repented of his past sins, and after his release, did his best to ‘go and sin no more’? Then, because of you, there would be one less man who thought stealing acceptable, one less man who would turn a gun on another. One less soul in Satan’s grasp.”
    Mr. Carson shook his head and released a small huff of disbelief. “Do you really believe that’s possible, Miss Spencer?”
    “ ‘With God all things are possible,’ ” she quoted softly.
    “Possible,” he allowed, “but knowing human nature the way I do, I’d say it weren’t very probable.”
    Eden shrugged. “You may be right. I’ve found myself thinking much the same thing. But giving these men Bibles certainly won’t cause any harm, and if there’s a chance that one or two of them might actually commit their life to Christ as a result of our fund drive, well then, I consider it money well spent.”
    Her words hung in the air between them, and Eden was surprised by how much she meant them. It was no longer salesmanship on her part; somewhere in the midst of her defense, her heart had changed. Maybe Mr. Carson needed time to adjust, as well.
    “If you’d like to think about it, I could come back tomorrow.”
    “That’s all right.” He smiled at her and reached back into the till. “I know you ladies do good work, and you’re right—giving Bibles to prisoners will do no harm. I’d be happy to contribute.”
    Eden held out her hand in anticipation, but instead of the ten-dollar bill he’d been fingering earlier, Mr. Carson dropped two silver dollars into her palm. Masking her disappointment, Eden conveyed her thanks and left the establishment. Two dollars might not be as much as she had originally hoped for, but it would cover the cost of three or four of the Bibles Emma planned to order. It was still a blessing.
    She made out a little better at the livery. Mr. Barnes donated five dollars and graciously offered free use of his wagon if Mr. Cranford needed it to deliver the cases of Bibles to Huntsville at the conclusion of the drive.
    The blacksmith shop was the only business left on her list.
    Steeling herself, Eden strode through the gaping double doors and into the warmth of the smithy. The glow of the forge in the center of the shop beckoned to her, but the interior was dim. Her toe struck something hard on the floor. A clanking racket echoed off the walls as she stumbled forward.
    “Look out!” someone yelled.
    As she caught her balance, she turned her face toward the man’s voice and found herself on the wrong end of a fretting horse. Its rear leg kicked out. Eden spun away, tensing for the blow. But before the hoof could connect with her head, a pair of massive arms scooped her up and smothered her against a wide chest.
    “Oomph.” Her rescuer moaned, and Eden knew the horse had taken its pound of flesh after all.
    “You all right, Levi?” a