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by
Caroline Clemmons
Thanks
to Anna Kathryn Lanier for hosting my visit today.
Do
you live where the winter storm has locked you indoors? Lovely if you don’t
need to leave home. Here in North Central Texas, we only have a few snow
flurries, but folks are snowbound in the Texas Panhandle. I love snow, but then
I work from home and don’t have to commute. Being snowed in is a cozy treat for
me, and a good time to snuggle with a cup of hot chocolate, a good book...and
my husband. Our pets also gather around for cuddle time.
Weather
always plays a part in my romances, and sometimes becomes a character. Bad
weather can isolate a couple, present a huge obstacle, or propel the story
forward. Think of the tornado in THE WIZARD OF OZ, which certainly moved that
story forward (no pun intended).
A
storm that starts as rain, then sleet, then heavy snow is a character in HIGH
STAKES BRIDE. The inclement weather helps the heroine, Alice Price, escape from
the two men pursuing her. That is, with the aid of rancher Zach Stone. What
could be cozier than being snowed in a warm cabin with a kind and handsome man?
There are a few surprises for Alice Price and Zach Stone: (1) the battered
little boy who looks as if he and soap are strangers, (2) his injured dog, and
(3) the biggest surprise...the dead man on the cabin floor.
Those
aren’t the only surprises in store for either Zach or Alice. She’s one of my
favorite heroines. Like me, she is incident prone. ☺ I’ve never dyed my own
hair the peculiar color Alice did, but I once accidentally dyed my daughter’s
hair lavender. Talk about panic! Whew, no wonder she won’t let me color her
hair now.
Here’s
a blurb about HIGH STAKES BRIDE:
Now
that her stepfather has died and can no longer protect her, Alice Price is on
the run from two stepbrothers who wagered her in a high stakes poker game. But
she’s only been off her stepfather’s ranch once in over twenty years and has no
sense of the landscape or direction. Determined to catch the stage to Atlanta,
she has two mules loaded with her belongings. From the first, she encounters
one setback after another. She is certain fate has dealt her a losing hand...until
she teams up with Zach Stone.
Zach
is through with any woman not related to him. He camps out for a little time
alone before he heads home and admits he’s been jilted by his mail-order bride.
When he meets Alice and learns she is on the run, he lets her tag along with
him. Their ride through a freezing storm when she is already exhausted leaves
Alice with a case of pneumonia. Obviously, she needs some place safe where she
can recover. That’s when Zach comes up with a crazy plan--Alice can pretend to
be his mail-order bride until she recovers, make his family hate her, then
he’ll send her away Sounds easy enough.
Zach
hired the Seth, a young boy Alice and Zach discovered in his old cabin, to be
Zach’s new ranch hand. Seth’s dog, Harry, accompanies the boy. Life appears
rosy, but lies tangle Zach and Alice into a web of deceit that grows more and
more complicated.
Here’s
an excerpt from HIGH STAKES BRIDE of the first time Zach meets Alice while he’s
camped out:
Zach slipped into the bedroll and waited, pistol in
hand. He feigned sleep, wondering what kind of man tarried nearby. Whoever it
was could have picked Zach off, so the sidewinder must not have murder on his
mind.
Probably up to no good hiding out like that, though,
because any Westerner would share his campfire and vittles with anyone who rode
into camp. Zach wriggled into a comfortable spot and lay motionless. Anger at
recent events helped him remain awake.
The footfalls came so softly he almost missed them.
He opened his eyes a slit, but enough to see a thin shadow move toward the
fire. About then heavy clouds overhead parted and the moonlight revealed a boy
who scooped up a slice of bacon and slid it into his mouth.
The culprit set Zach’s tin plate on the ground near
the fire, ladled beans into it, and picked up a fork. He squatted down and
balanced the plate on his knees before he commenced eating. Zach noticed he
kept his left hand in his pocket the whole time.
Something must be wrong with the thief’s left
arm. Looked too young for it to have
been a casualty of the War. Lots of other ways to get hurt out here. Whatever
had happened to his left arm, his right one worked well enough. He forked food
into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week.
Zach let him shovel beans for a few minutes. Crook
or not, anyone that hungry deserved a meal. When the kid stopped eating, Zach
couldn’t figure out what he was doing.
It looked as if he used the fork to scratch around on the ground, so he
must have eaten his fill. Zach slipped his hand from beneath the cover and
cocked the pistol.
“Hold it right there, son. I’d like to know why
you’re eating without at least a howdy to the man who provided the food.”
The boy paused, then set the plate down slowly. “I
left money here on a rock to pay for it.”
Odd sounding voice, but the kid was probably scared.
Zach slipped from his bedroll and stood, but kept his gun pointed at the food
robber. “Maybe.”
Zach walked toward the kid, careful to train his
gaze so the firelight didn’t dim his eyesight. Sure enough, he spotted a couple
of coins on the rock beside his pot of beans, or what remained of them, and his
empty plate.
He faced the intruder. “Why not just come into camp
earlier instead of sneaking in after you thought I was asleep?”
“I—I was afraid you weren’t friendly.”
Zach thought he also heard the kid mutter what
sounded like “...or maybe too friendly.” Must be the wind, he thought, as he
neared the boy.
Zach motioned with his free hand. “I don’t begrudge
anyone food, but I hate dishonesty and sneaking around. Stand up so I can see you.”
The kid stood, hat low over his face and his good
hand clenched.
Zach reached to push the brim back. “What’s your
name?”
The kid stepped forward. “None of your business,
mister.”
A fistful of sand hit Zach’s face. He heard his
assailant run. Mad as the devil, Zach brushed grit from his eyes and set out in
pursuit. The kid was fast, he’d give him that, but so was Zach. His longer legs
narrowed the distance between them. With
a running lunge, he tackled the kid.
“Oof. Let me go.” The lad was all wriggles and
kicking feet as he squirmed trying to escape.
Zach wasn’t about to let that happen. They rolled in
the dirt. In one move Zach pinned the boy’s good arm. The hat fell aside and a
mass of curls spilled around the kid’s face.
His jacket parted and unmistakable curves pushed
upward where Zach’s other hand rested. Zach stared in disbelief. Registering
his hand pressed against a heavenly mound shocked him and he jerked his paw
away.
“Well, I’ll be damned. You’re not a boy.”
The woman glared at him. “Right, and you’re not
exactly a feather. Get off me.”
Zach stood and bent to help her but she curled into
a ball where she lay. “Ma’am, you okay?”
“Just dandy.” She sat up, moving like a
hundred-year-old. She glared at him while holding her stomach with her good
hand. The other arm dangled uselessly. “You’ve likely broken the few uninjured
bones I had left.”
His temper flared. “Hey, lady, don’t try to put the
blame on me. If you’d been honest and come into camp like any other traveler, I’d
have shared my food with you.”
“Yeah, well a woman on her own can’t be too careful
and I don’t know you or anything about you.”
Zach saw her point. Though most Western men would
respect a woman, it wouldn’t help if she ran into one of the exceptions.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
She glared at him and appeared to debate with
herself before she said, “Fell out of a tree. My arm caught in the fork of a
branch. Pulled it out of socket and I can’t get it back.”
Well hell. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind.
Now that he’d decided not to speak to another woman unrelated to him, this
bundle of trouble showed up needing a keeper.
Resigning himself to one more stroke of bad luck, he
said, “Take off your coat and come over here to my bedroll.”
The campfire sparked less than her eyes. “I’ll do no
such of a thing. Don’t be thinking you can take liberties because I ate your
food and I’m injured. I paid for the food.”
Zach exhaled and planted his fists on his hips.
“Ma’am, there’s not enough money in Texas to pay me to take liberties with you.
If you’ll move to my bedroll and lie down, I’ll put your arm back in place.
You’ll likely have to take off your, um, your shirt.”
She looked him up and down as if she weighed him and
found him lacking. “I figured you for a rancher. You a doctor then?”
“Ranchers have to know a good bit about patching
people.”
She straightened herself and swished past him as if
she wore a ball gown instead of a man’s torn britches. Watching the feminine
sway of her hips as she sashayed to the other side of the campfire, he wondered
how he ever mistook her for male. He followed her and tried not to appreciate
her long legs or the way the fabric molded to them like a second skin.
When she reached the blasted bedroll he’d been stuck
with, she slid out of her jacket. A grimace of pain flashed across her face as
the weight of the light coat slipped down her injured arm. In one graceful move
she plopped down on the bedroll.
“You’re sure you can do this?” she asked and looked
up at him.
Flickering firelight placed her features in shadow.
Moving closer, he figured the poor light played tricks on him, for he couldn't
tell the color of her hair. He decided she had light brown or dark blonde
curls. Whatever color her eyes were, maybe blue or green, they were big and
watched him with suspicion.
“Yes. Sorry, I don’t have any spirits with me to
deaden the pain.”
“I never touch alcohol. If you’re sure you can do
this, just get on with it.” She unbuttoned her shirt and winced as she slid the
injured shoulder and arm free, and then stuck her chin up as if she dared him
to make an improper comment or gesture.
He knelt beside her, keenly aware of the differences
that proved her womanhood. A chemise of fabric worn so thin as to be almost
transparent pulled taut across her breasts. He swallowed and willed himself to
ignore the dark circles surrounding the pearly peaks thrusting at the flimsy
material. The memory of the lush mound he’d touched briefly wouldn’t leave him.
He’d been alone too long and had better concentrate on the job at hand.
“Stretch out and try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as
I can, but this will hurt.”
“Hurts already, but I better put my bandana in my
mouth so I don’t scream. I’m not a whiner, mind, but wouldn’t want to draw
attention if there’s others nearby.” She slipped the cloth knotted around her
neck up to her mouth like a gag, then laid down.
She moaned but didn’t fight him. Zach had seen this
done numerous times over the years and had performed it twice. He probed her
shoulder gently, then rotated her arm to slip it back into place.
He listened for the snick of the bone reseating
itself in the socket. When he finished, he massaged the muscles of her upper
arm and shoulder. She’d likely be sore for weeks, but the harm she had done
wasn’t permanent.
“Have to give it to you, ma’am. You were the
quietest patient I’ve ever seen.”
She lay with her face turned away from him. When he
leaned over, he realized she’d passed out.
I
hope you found that intriguing and will want to purchase HIGH STAKES BRIDE, Men
of Stone Mountain, book 2. Here are the buy links:
Do
you serve ham for New Year’s Day? In the South/Southwest, ham is the
traditional dish for New Year’s Day. I’m sharing my family’s favorite sweet
potato recipe to go with your New Year’s Day dinner...or any other time. This
dish is always a hit and anytime I serve it to others, I am asked for the
recipe.
SWEET POTATO
CASSEROLE
2
cups cooked and mashed sweet potatoes (about 4 large sweet potatoes, or
use canned)
1
1/4 cup sugar
1
cup milk
2
eggs, lightly beaten
3/4
stick margarine or butter, softened
1/2
teaspoon nutmeg (I don’t like nutmeg, so I omit this and double the
cinnamon)
1/2
teaspoon cinnamon
Topping:
3/4
cup corn flakes
1/2
cup chopped nuts (I use pecans)
1/2
cup brown sugar
3/4
stick margarine or butter
Drain
and mash the cooked or canned sweet potatoes, removing any fibrous tissue. Add
the sugar, milk, eggs, 3/4 stick margarine, and spices. Bake at 400 degrees F
for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and cover with topping. Return to oven for
about 10 minutes, or until topping is bubbly.
Here’s
a bit about Caroline Clemmons:
Caroline
Clemmons writes mystery, romance, and adventures—although her earliest made up
adventures featured her saving the West with Roy Rogers. Her career has
included stay-at-home mom (her favorite job), newspaper reporter and featured
columnist, assistant to the managing editor of a psychology journal, and
bookkeeper. She and her husband live in rural North Central Texas with a
menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time
with family, reading, travel, browsing antique malls and estate sales, and
genealogy/family history.
Happy
New Year 2013!
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