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About
the author
The author is a thirty something mother of three rowdy school-age boys. Even though she doesn’t claim to be a writer, she is a dreamer and often wonders how she makes it through another day because her mind is always wandering to another time, another place, creating a story that it wants to share. Read a sample: Chapter One
He hadn’t heard right, he hoped to hell he
hadn’t. Carter
leant back in his chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles beneath the big oak
table as he studied the man who sat across from him. His hair was a little
whiter, the web of lines around his eyes more pronounced. Intelligent eye’s
which refuted the doubts which were plaguing Carter’s mind. Jacob
Lander was as sane as he’d always been. As
a child Carter had been in awe of his grandfather. Standing at six and a half
feet tall, with arms which bulged like fallen tree trunks and legs just as
impressive Carter had believed he was invincible. Sadly, now he saw him for what
he was. An old man caught on the other side of seventy. His
broad shoulders were stooped; his big hands, which had once branded Carter’s
backside, were twisted with arthritis, where muscles had once rippled, loose
flesh now hung. How
long had it been since he’d last seen him, four years, five? Still,
even with the weathered old exterior dulling some of his boyhood memories, he
knew that his grandfather was still the same man he had grown up idolizing. A
man he respected, a man he would do anything for without question. Except this time. “You
can’t be serious,” he stated in a flat tone as he saw the familiar glimmer
of determination enter the old man’s eyes. “Would
I be wasting my breath if I wasn’t?” “No
old man I guess you wouldn’t. But that doesn’t answer my question. You
can’t honestly expect me to do what you’re asking.” “I
wouldn’t have asked you Carter if there was some other way.” “Hell
of course there is another way.” Carter snapped, “surely she has family
somewhere who would take her in.” “If there was I wouldn’t be asking you now would I?” Jacob’s gruff voice held a hint of defiance when he spoke next, “I’ve never asked much of you Carter but when I did you always came through for me.” He leant forwards until his weathered arms were creasing on the tabletop. “So are you going to do it or not?” Was
he going to? Hell no. He’d
rather face a band of Sioux, hell bent on lifting his scalp with only one barrel
full, than cart a whining woman half way across the country with him. And it wouldn’t end there. Then he was expected to play guardian angel over her until Blake had gotten over the slight done to him. Which would probably be never seeing Blake hated Carter as much as Carter hated him. Damnit,
he wasn’t an inconsiderate man but he sure as hell wasn’t a saint either. He
hadn’t even met the woman but he could picture her in his mind. Middle aged,
dumpy with a tongue that couldn’t be harnessed. Five mile down the trail
he’d either have to use his six-shooter on himself or on her to save his own
sanity. Carter
stared across at his grandfather. The old man’s mouth was set in a grim line,
the way it always did when he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Carter’s
hands balled into fists, he knew when he was beat, deep in his subconscious
he’d known ever since Jacob had first posed the question, it was only now he
was willing to admit it to himself. “When?”
he asked tightly. “Tonight.” Carter
shook his head wearily. Damn
but life was sweet, he’d just been tried, convicted and handed down a life
sentence all in one day. “And
Blake?” he queried tiredly, suddenly feeling as old as his grandfather looked. “He
won’t be home until tomorrow he left for Jackson this morning.” “Does
my sister-in-law have a name?” For
the first time since Carter had arrived two hours ago his grandfather smiled.
“Isabella, her name is Isabella.”
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