“Wow! Once you start reading, you won’t be able to put Carmen Peone’s Renewed Hope down. It is a heart-wrenching story of one abused mother’s struggle to save her precious child with help from unexpected friends, all set against the backdrop of the Native American culture. Don’t miss

the final heart-pounding installment of her Seven Tine Ranch series as it brings closure to this moving trilogy.” —Jennifer Uhlarik, award-winning author of Sand Creek Serenade and Love’s Fortress

“Peone deftly weaves the struggle for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women into this passionate story of faith, love, and redemption.” —Carolyn Dufurrena, author of the multiple award–winning Quiet, Except for the Wind and former Academy of Western Artists Cowgirl Poet of the Year

Excerpt 1
Sophie Cayes’s tummy twisted when she read the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women Celebration leaflet, MMIW for short. Jeannette, one of the gallery’s consortium members, had given her the brochure before Sophie taught her morning art lesson.

Her angst heightened at the thought of standing on the stage in Elmo, talking about Bria’s murder. All eyes on her. In seven days. She hugged herself. Nope. A hard pass. Besides, her hands were full with her abusive ex-husband’s attempt to rip Basin away from her.

She set the flyer on the worktable next to a tote of paintbrushes. “I can’t.” Saying her sister’s name? In a crowd? When she couldn’t even say it in private without unraveling? No way. She plucked a paper towel off the countertop, her body trembling like ripples on a lake in a stiff breeze. She needed to focus on retaining full custody of her son. “Think about it. And remember, I got your back. With Basin. With your lessons. With the celebration.” Jeannette headed to the gallery showroom.

Sophie turned to her art student, Natalie, when the front door’s bell chimed, and Matt’s deep-timbre voice stormed into the room. “Where’s Sophie?”

Oh, God, no. Not here. Not today. Wiping her quivering hands on her apron, she hurried to the gallery. The sight of him made her cringe inside. She couldn’t afford a disfigured reputation, not when she needed prestigious galleries and museums to take her seriously.

“What are you doing here, Matt?” Sophie glanced at Jeannette and shook her head. Disgust and dread slinked down her throat and settled into her stomach. Why hadn’t she turned Matt in for abuse years ago? Then maybe she wouldn’t have a custody battle on her hands. She hated how terrified of him she used to be. Still was. Oh, how she’d love to be in a peaceful place where she could paint, and her son could grow up without his vicious father lurking on weekends and holidays.

Jeannette slid her cell out of her pocket.

Glad her friend had offered to be the bad guy and call the cops if he happened to show up, Sophie kept an eye on her. She hadn’t expected Matt to drop in. At least not today.

“Thought you had your pack test.”

“Got done early.”

“What about your survival refresher training? Don’t they do it all in one day?”

“You know I have it in the afternoons.” He encroached on her personal bubble, and she took a step back. Then another, feeling like she’d pass out. “I want Basin for the weekend. Olivia wants to take him to the River Honoring on Monday morning.”

Matt’s new wife wants him again. Are you kidding me? No. Definitely not. The River Honoring, held by the Flathead River, hosted elementary-aged kids who went from station to station learning various skills about nature, energy, and culture. Certainly no place for a four-year-old with breathing issues. “She wants him all week, actually.”

All week? Her heart punched her rib cage. “It’s supposed to rain. You know he has trouble—”

“Geeze, Sophie. He’ll be fine. Quit hovering over him like a—”

She backed up a step and glared. Get out of here! “Fine.” Matt always got his way. If not, he’d slap her. She needed to agree with him and get him out of the gallery before he made a scene. Before Jeannette called the cops. And she wasn’t familiar enough with Natalie to know if the woman would spread gossip or not. She certainly didn’t need to be the talk of the rez. “I’ll bring him over after dinner.” Or not.

“No need. Olivia’s picking him up at childcare.”

Dirty bugger. The blonde bomb had no business picking up her son. She struggled to keep her tone even. “I didn’t agree to her picking him up today.”

“She’s on her way to his day care now.” He held up his key to her house. The one she’d sworn she’d gotten back. “I’ll get his stuff.” He turned with a smirk on his face and left. No, no, no. Why had she agreed?

Excerpt 2
“What’s wrong?” Chad took her shoulders and moved her aside. “Oh, crap. That’s not good.”

Her paintings were strewn over her worktable. Every single one—the meadows, deer, rivers, wolves and coyotes, mountains, birds—had been marked up with a black, permanent marker. And each of her nine-by-twelve-inch canvases appeared to have been sliced with something the
size of a Buck knife, like the one Matt packed around. Oh, and there was the buffalo she’d been working on, a gash across his face. Tears pooled in her eyes. “How could he be so evil?”

With quaking fingers, she made a call. “No way.” Her face and ears turned red.

“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head and made another call. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?”

“Both Matt and Olivia’s phones are no longer in service.” She shoved the cell into her back pocket. “What are we going to do? How am I going to find my son?”

“Chuck will find him.” He had to. Chad strode to the table and began stacking the paintings.

“Don’t bother. Matt’s behind this mess. Besides, we’ll figure out where he has Basin before his fingerprints are processed.”

Sophie ambled over to one of her wooden easels that lay splintered on the brown carpet. “When I left, this canvas . . . was on the . . .” She pointed to the easel. “It was yellow with
brilliant blues and purples . . .” She hiccupped a sob.

The owl painting now lay crumpled on the floor, a dirty footprint across the top. She picked up the piece and traced the rough gash puncturing its heart.

“How will we find Basin? How will I provide for him? I need money to pay rent. It’s due tomorrow.” Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God, why? Why Basin? Why
my paintings? Just when my life had come together. Why?”

Chad brought her to his chest and let her cry. Releasing an animal-like howl, she collapsed into his embrace. “He’ll pay for this.”