Why a Mail Order Bride Series?

Well Why Not?  

I've taken two things I love, mail order brides and holidays and combined them to create the Holiday Mail Order Bride Series!  These fun, sweet romances take place around some of our favorite holidays like Valentine's Day, New Years Day, the Fourth of July, May Day, St. Patrick's Day, and of course, Christmas!  The first book in the series is set around this fun holiday and though the story is centered much more on the characters and their romance, Christmas still makes for a nice little back drop.  I actually have two Christmas stories coming out.  One to top off the Prairie Bride Series, 'A Clear Creek Christmas', and the first book in the Holiday Mail Order Bride Series, The Christmas Mail Order Bride!  You can get a copy at amazon or Barnes and Nobles or iTunes
Be watching for the next installment of the Holiday Mail Order Bride Series, January's Promise, coming in December!  Also be watching for Christmas in Clear Creek coming in November!  And in the midst of all this fun, a war is brewing!  Yes, a war.  Mrs. Dunnigan has some new competition with Mrs. Upton in town and both cooks are ready to battle it out!  What recipe would you suggest  Mrs. Dunnigan use to blow Mrs. Upton out of the water?  Any suggestions?  Happy Readying and as always, enjoy!

Kit

Sometimes, you just have to go along ....

From His Prairie Sweetheart (Prairie Brides, Book Five)

She suddenly stopped his ministrations by grabbing his hand.  “Please,” she rasped.  “Where am I?”

 “You’re about a hundred miles east of Oregon City, ma’am.”

 “Oregon City?”

 “Yes, ma’am.  You’re in Oregon Territory.”

 “I’m out west?” she squeaked.

 His face took on a look of alarm.  “Well, yes.  As opposed to being out east I guess.”

 “Good Lord!”

 “Ma’am?”

 “I don’t know how I got here!  I don’t know what I’m doing!”

 “Hush now,” he said as he took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.  “To be honest I don’t know what you’re doing out here or how long you were with those Indians.  But I’m not going to leave you, you hear me?”

 She could only stare at him. The thought of being left alone out in this wilderness frightened her something awful.  She shook her head slightly, but the movement made her dizzy. 

 He began to glance around, then turned his attention back to her.  “See that stand of pine over there?”

 She followed his gaze to look at a cluster of pine trees a few hundred yards away.  She slowly nodded.

 “We’ll camp there for the night.  It’ll be safer than being out here in the open.  But you’re going to have to either try and walk or ride Victor.”

 “Victor?”

 “My horse.”

 She leaned against him.  “You named your horse, Victor?”  Now why would she ask such a thing?  What did it matter?

 He smiled.  “Yes, ma’am.  Victor over there is one faithful animal.  Watch this.”

 The man gave a low whistle. Victor who’d been happily munching on a small patch of dried grass popped his head up, pricked his ears forward, and then walked right to them.  The horse bent its head to the man and softly nickered.

 She couldn’t help but smile.

 “Now I think I’ll pick you up and see if I can’t get you up in that saddle.  It’ll be a lot easier for Victor to carry you over to those trees than if I had to do it.”

 She slowly nodded in understanding.

 He pulled her against him.  “Put your arms around my neck sweetheart and hang on.”

 She shuddered.  He’d spoken the words in her ear as he put one arm behind her back, the other under her legs.  She did as he ordered. 

 He pulled her against him and stood as if she weighed nothing!  She could feel the muscles in his arms bunch up and the solidness of his chest as he took a step or two toward the horse. “How you doin? You still with me?”

 She nodded as she closed her eyes against the slight bout of dizziness that suddenly hit.

 “If I help you do you think you can manage to climb up on ol Victor there?”

 “I can try.”

 “Good.  I want you to get your left foot in that stirrup and take a hold of the saddle horn.  I’ll see to it you get up there.  Ready?”

 She swallowed.  Did she even know how to ride?  She couldn’t remember!  Oh dear God, she couldn’t remember anything!

 “Don’t go fainting on me, ma’am.  Now put your foot in the stirrup.”

 He stood next to the beautiful bay horse.  A horse that was a lot bigger now that she was this close to it.  He positioned them so she could easily get her foot in the stirrup.  She unwrapped one arm from around him and reached for the saddle horn.  The man helped by part lifting, part pushing her upward.

 “You’re gonna have to lift those skirts of yours to sit Victor. Do it now.”

 She grabbed at the skirt of her dress and lifted it enough to get her leg over the saddle as he began to push her up the rest of the way.  The leather felt hot against what parts of her legs weren’t covered by petticoats or stockings.  Another bout of dizziness followed and she gripped the saddle horn to stay put.  She closed her eyes against the spinning sensation threatening to make her plummet to the ground when the man removed her foot from the stirrup, grasped the front and back of the saddle and pulled himself up behind her.

 A strong arm wrapped itself tightly around her waist and pulled her against a hard chest.  “There now, that wasn’t so bad.  Now all we have to worry about is getting you back down again but that’ll be a lot easier than getting up!”  He made a little “clucking” sound and Victor started walking. 

 “Seems like we haven’t been properly introduced.  My name’s Logan Kincaid,” he said as they rode toward their destination.

 He was quiet for a moment when she didn’t answer.  After all, how could she?

 “This is the part where you tell me your name …” he said in a teasing tone.

 “I … I don’t know …” Tears filled her eyes.  Oh what could have happened to her?  Her body shuddered.  Her head felt like someone drove a spike through it.  She closed her eyes again as the tears escaped.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who I am!”

 “There now,” he began as he pulled her more firmly against him.  “You just relax.  I’ve heard of this sort of thing happening.  I worked with a fella who’s pappy lost his memory.  Said he didn’t know who any of his own kinfolk were for weeks and weeks.  Got clunked on the head fixing something out in the barn.  Drove his poor mama plumb crazy with worry until his pappy finally got his memory back.”

 “How did he get it back?” she asked, intrigued with the story despite the pain in her head.

 “Well, the man I worked with? He told me it took something really familiar to trigger the memories and … ah … let’s just say it was … something as familiar as it could get.”

 She shifted as she realized how indecent and improper it was to be riding like this with a perfect stranger.  But honestly, she was injured and in pain, why on earth would she be concerned with propriety now?  “What happened?” she asked to still her mind.

 “Ahhh, well you see ma’am, the man I worked with, he came from a very large family.  Had at least nine brothers and sisters.  The way he tells it, his mama and pappy went to work on another one and that’s what triggered it.”

 Her mouth dropped open in shock, but the distraction was welcome.  Anything to get her mind off the pain in her head. “Lord have mercy!”

 “Yeah, that’s what his mama said too.  She didn’t want any more youngins!”

 Tears filled her eyes as she smiled.  She didn’t know if she was about to laugh or cry.  The story was indeed amusing but her predicament wasn’t.  “Where… are you heading?”

 “Besides those trees over there?  Ol Victor and I are heading home to Clear Creek and the Triple C ranch.  I reckon I’d better take you along with me so Doc can see to you.  I’d take you to Oregon City but I have to be getting back.  Folks there are waiting on me.”

 “Clear Creek?  But how far away is it?”

 “About ten days ride I’d say, give or take.  Depends on you.”

 “On me?”

 “Yes, ma’am.  On account you’re obviously not yourself and you being shot and all.”

 She slumped against him. 

 Ten days out in this wilderness with a strange man.  It was bad enough she didn’t know who she was or where she was from but now this?

 But better to be traveling through the wilderness with Logan Kincaid than to be by herself alone and unprotected.

 “So be it, Mr. Kincaid.”

Be looking for His Prairie Sweetheart coming later this month!

Kit

Cozette Duprie, More Than Meets The Eye ....

From His Prairie Duchess ....

Clear Creek, Oregon 1858.  Thirty-eight days until the Duke’s stipulated deadline.

On the First day...

Cozette Duprie was up a tree. 

She always did like the sound of that.  How her name so easily rhymed with what came naturally to her.  For if not a tree she would climb something else.  A ladder.  A lattice.  And most recently the backside of a building.  Albeit with the help of her father’s grappling hook.  It was getting down that proved to be more difficult. But she suffered fewer injuries than the Dunnigan girl she rescued, so all in all Cozette couldn’t complain.  She just hoped her latest feat didn’t draw too much attention to herself.  That, of course, was the last thing she needed. For either herself or her father.

She settled in amongst the branches and watched as a wagon train slowly wound its way across the prairie in the distance.  It would set up camp most likely.  She heard Mr. Van Cleet tell her father they often camped a mile or so south of town to rest and restock any supplies before continuing on to Oregon City.  Unfortunately for this wagon train, any restocking of supplies might prove difficult.  The mercantile in Clear Creek burned down three weeks ago.

Cozette glanced at her bandaged hand.  Her father had tended the burns she’d incurred while rescuing Belle Dunnigan and they were healing nicely.  In fact, today she could take the bandage off, but would wait until she returned to camp outside of town to do so.  Watching the wagon train was more interesting.  Especially since this one seemed a bit odd.

It wasn’t very big, only six wagons in all.  But that wasn’t what was different.  It was the fact the wagons were pulled by draft horses instead of oxen.  Perhaps they hadn’t traveled far and so used  horses instead. They could be coming from the Wyoming territory, or lost their oxen and could only get horses to replace them. Whatever the reason, Cozette enjoyed watching as they stopped and began to set up camp.  She often wondered what it would be like to travel with a wagon train for months and spend time with families around a nightly campfire.

But then, Cozette often wondered what it would be like to do a lot of things.

Like wear a dress with a pretty hat, one with lots of flowers and feathers. Or shop in a mercantile for a bonnet covered in ribbons.  Maybe have her very own house. One with wallpaper covered in delicate flower petal designs and furniture with colors to match. And lace, lots of lace.  She loved to study the intricate designs of it. She was highly attracted to the delicate patterns of china and fine cloth as well.  She wanted to cook something on a stove instead of over a campfire and be able to bake something in an oven.  But what Cozette wanted most of all, was to sleep in a bed.  A real bed.  All the rest of her days.

She often imagined a huge four poster canopied bed, one fit for a Queen.  With lots of pillows and a mattress she could sink into and lose herself night after night in dream-filled slumber. 

Cozette sighed.  For a dream is all it was.  And probably always would be.

Not that her current life was horrible, it wasn’t.  She was free, incredibly so.  She didn’t suffer the conventional constraints other women had.  She could hunt, fish, shoot, and if need be... kill. She’d even helped her father take down a buffalo.

But none of it seemed to matter when the gnawing began.  A pulsating yearning that started in the deepest part of her, and would soon grow until she laid upon her bedroll at night and wept in silence.  Her voice wouldn’t even produce a decent sob.  But then, her voice hadn’t produced anything for years. It died, along with the rest of her hopes and dreams, the night her mother died.  A night Cozette wished she could forget. 

Maybe if she did, she’d get her voice back.

Her father didn’t know about her ‘spells’ as she came to call them.  And because he never heard her suffering in the middle of the night, he most likely wouldn’t come to know.  But the spells came more frequently of late, and she wished she knew what caused them.  And they were getting worse, the something that gnawed away at her heart, the deep longing.  But for what?

Perhaps she missed her mother.  Yes, that was probably it.  But to think of her mother brought great sadness, and Cozette feared the memories that came to haunt her in the dark of night. She didn’t want to remember.  She didn’t want to see in her mind’s eye the horrible things that happened to her mother, or remember the sounds of her screaming...

Cozette closed her eyes and forced her memories to still. She concentrated on watching the wagon train set up camp instead and wondered how long they would stay before moving on.  And no doubt her father would have her remain hidden for as long as it took them to do so.  But at this point in her life, she'd grown used to it. 

 His Prairie Duchess is Available on amazon.

Welcome To Clear Creek Miss Dunnigan

What's a Boston Girl Doing in a Place Like This?

Clear Creek, Oregon. June 1858

 Colin Bartholomew Cooke saw an angel. 

 She was of course everything an angel ought to be.  Beautiful, of exquisite form, and with honey gold curls that bounced beneath her hat as she walked.  He swallowed hard and wondered how those golden tresses would look if unpinned and allowed to cascade down her back.  Would they descend to her small waist? Or travel further on to her shapely hips?  His heart skipped a beat at the thought. 

 He couldn’t tell from his vantage point what color her eyes were but what did eye color matter on an angel?  Maybe her eyes changed color depending on her mood.  Wasn’t that a trait of angels, eyes that changed color?  Just so long as they didn’t turn a fierce red.

 Such as Mrs. Dunnigan's

 Colin sighed, rested his forehead against the half-open window and continued to watch as his new found angel hugged Mr. Dunnigan first, then moved on to greet the devil’s own Mrs. Dunnigan.  The bane of Clear Creek.

 Though Colin and his older brother Duncan had been newly released from prison (and would be forever grateful to be gone from the dreadful place) it did have one redeeming quality.  It didn’t have Mrs. Irene Dunnigan in residence.

 Everyone in Clear Creek avoided the self-righteous, cantankerous creature as best they could.  At least until they needed something from the mercantile.  There was no choice then but to face her.  Unless of course one got waited on by Mr. Dunnigan.  But Mr. Dunnigan (Wilfred to his friends) was usually busy doing other things in the mercantile while Mrs. Dunnigan handled the counter and the cash.  Of which there was little.  Most folks relied on store credit instead. Maybe that’s what made the woman so cranky.

 He watched as the stagecoach driver hauled down a few satchels and a trunk. Wilfred picked up the trunk while Mrs. Dunnigan and his angel gathered up the satchels. The Dunnigans talked and laughed as they led her inside.  His angel must be planning to stay awhile.

 Colin quickly closed the window and headed downstairs.  He and his two brothers, Duncan and Harrison, had watched some of Harrison’s new stock driven through town from the second story of Mulligan’s saloon.  It was a big day for his little brother.  He and his new wife Sadie had just received a thousand head of some of the finest cattle in three territories.  The stock was a gift from Sadie’s father and the brothers now found themselves plunged into the cattle business.  It would be a far cry from pig farming.  Something they’d done since settling in Clear Creek eight years ago.  But it would prosper their family not to mention the town, and for that the three brothers were immensely happy.  It had been the dream of their birth father to travel to the American west from England, settle, and then raise cattle. Now it was a reality.  They just wished their father were still alive to see it. 

 “Everyone’s gone to the corral, Colin.  Best get down there or your brothers will tan your hide!”  Mr. Mulligan began.  “And don’t forget to tell the folks to come back here when they’re done!  This is a great day for our town.  We need to celebrate!”

 “Happy to oblige, Mr. Mulligan!”  Colin said and ran out the swinging double doors of the saloon and quickly crossed the street to the stagecoach.  Willie, the driver, was just about to enter the mercantile with the mailbag.  “Afternoon, Willie!  Can I help you?”

 Willie looked at him, then to the mercantile.  “If’n you want to take this in, I’d be much obliged.”

 Colin watched as Willie’s left eye began to twitch.  It often did when the poor man was nervous or agitated.  “I’d be happy to help.  Hand it to me.”

 Willie smiled.  Several of his front teeth were missing.  The unfortunate result of a stage robbery four months ago.  A robbery that brought Harrison and his new wife Sadie together. “I caint tell you what a help that would be.  I don’t have much time and would really like to go set a spell with Mulligan.”

 Colin grinned in understanding.  To Willie, a good stiff drink was preferable to any sort of encounter with Mrs. Dunnigan.  “Glad to do it.  Best go see Mulligan then.  I’ll take care of this.”  He reached for the mailbag.  Willie gratefully handed it over then skeedaddled across the street to the saloon.

 Colin laughed as he watched him go and then turned toward the mercantile.  He took a deep breath to brace himself, walked up the front steps, and opened the door.  A tiny bell rang over his head to announce his arrival.  He looked this way and that but didn’t see anyone.  He went to the counter and tried to peek through the half opened curtain that separated the front and back of the building.  The Dunnigans' living quarters were upstairs, the mercantile and storerooms on the first floor.  They must be upstairs and hadn’t heard him come in.  The floorboards overhead creaked slightly in confirmation, followed by the sound of bright laughter.  His angel.

 Colin felt his gut warm at the sound and had to swallow.  She was above him. Probably right over his head, sitting in the small parlor.  He closed his eyes when the sound came again and sighed. 

 “What are you doing standing there like that?”  A voice snapped.

 Colin opened his eyes to find Mrs. Dunnigan standing in front of the curtained doorway, a ladle in her hand.  Her face was scrunched up as she glared at him with her dark, beady eyes.  He lifted the mailbag in front of him like a shield.  “Brought the mail, ma’am.”

 “Well don’t just stand there, put it on the counter!”

 “Yes, ma’am.”  Colin slowly complied.  It was all he could do not to look at the ceiling when the delightful laughter once again filtered down to tickle his heart and senses.

 “Where’s Willie?  Why didn’t he bring it in?”

  Mrs. Dunnigan’s voice pulled him out of his dream-like state.  “He had to go talk with Mr. Mulligan.”

 “You mean he went to go drink!” She huffed.  “Drink and then drive the stage out of here!  I’ll see he’s fired!”

 “I believe this is his last stop.  He’ll head out again in the morning.”

 “What does it matter?  No decent man drinks then handles horses!”

 Colin sighed; on the one hand she had a point.  On the other hand the livery stable was less than fifty yards away.  “I’ll see to the stage if it makes you feel better, Mrs. Dunnigan.”

 “See that you do!  Now get out of here.  Unless you want to buy something?”

 Colin listened.  No laughter from above.  He had to get the information he wanted quickly.  He had to know who his angel was!  “I’ll take some of your delicious cinnamon candies.”

 She waddled behind the counter and opened a jar.  “How many?”

 “Give me a dozen.”

 The floorboards creaked again and the delightful laughter rained down.  The sound touched him like a sweet caress and he leaned against the counter to stay standing. 

 “I hope you have money!  You know you Cooke's don’t have store credit anymore!” 

 Colin nodded and reached into his pocket. “I saw someone get off the stage. Do you and Mr. Dunnigan have a guest?”

 She stopped putting candy into a small bag and spun to face him.  “It’s no business of yours if we have a guest or not!”  She threw the last piece of candy in the bag and tossed it onto the counter in front of him.  “That’ll be three cents!”

 Colin handed her the money just as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.  Mrs. Dunnigan moved with a speed he’d never seen before.  She came around the counter and began to shove him toward the door.  She had him out on the porch of the mercantile faster than he could spit, and was back inside before he fully turned around.  Which, was just in time to have the door slammed in his face.  Colin stood there and stared at it like a lovesick dote.

 What was happening to him?  This was ridiculous!  He had to get a hold of himself! Angel or no angel, no woman should have such an effect on a man!

 The door suddenly opened and Colin jumped at the unexpected sight of the beautiful young woman who stood before him.  “I believe you paid for this, sir.”

 Her voice was heavenly.  An odd tingling sensation made its way up his spine and he shook as if chilled.  She stood there, his bag of candy in her hand, and held it out to him.  He took it without saying a word.  She was even more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined.

 She smiled.  “Good day.”

 He nodded, too dumbstruck to speak.  He wanted to but his brain was incapable of forming anything resembling words. Before he knew it the door had closed and she was gone.  He slowly looked to the bag of candy in his hand.  He didn’t know who she was, where she came from, how long she was staying, if she was a relative of the Dunnigans, what she was doing there?  But now at least, he did know one thing.

 Angels had blue eyes.

 Her Prairie Knight is available on amazon