by Caroline Lee
She ached at the scorn in his voice. “Jack, look at me. Look.” After too long a moment, he lifted his face towards hers. “Lefty would’ve hurt her. Would’ve sold her to someone who would hurt her—or worse. You saved her.” Her eyes darted across his face, willing him to understand. “Just like you saved her today.”
“I killed him.”
“We killed him. You don’t get all the credit, you know.”
Finally, a twitch of his lips, like he was trying to participate in the banter. “You’ve got a pretty good aim there, you know.”
“Years of snowball fights.”
But then he blinked, and looked down at their joined hands, and she knew that she hadn’t been able to draw him out of his despair. “I tried so hard to be a good man, Meri. You make me want to be good. But I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t let him go, and hurt you two.”
She gave his hand a little jerk. “And I admire you for it, Jack.” The flash of dark blue under his lashes told her that he didn’t quite believe her. “You are a good man. Zelle is safe, again, because of you. She didn’t see what happened today—what both of us did. I made sure of it. She knows that you’re a good Papa, a loving Papa, and that’s all that she needs to know.”
His shoulders relaxed a bit, and he exhaled. For the first time since yesterday, she felt like he was really seeing her. “A papa?”
“You’re her Papa, Jack. Witcher told me that she was royalty, but he didn’t say anything about ransom or anything. There’s no one else for her, except you. No one who loves her like you do.”
“That’s not true.” The scratchiness was back in his voice, and she frowned a little in confusion. “You, Meri. You love her. I can see it when you look at her. I saw it today when you protected her.”
Her heart began to pound. “I do love her. And I…” She swallowed. “I want her to be my daughter too.” It was as close as she could come to saying what she wanted for her future. He’d been so ready to leave her, just last night. What would he think, now?
He didn’t reply, but stood up and turned away. She felt her heart plummet, but before she could respond, he was back beside her, a wet towel in his hand, pulling her to her feet. He took her chin in one hand, turning her cheek slightly, and began to dab at the corner of her lip, where the pain had receded to a dull ache.
It caused flutters in the pit of her stomach, to have him hold her so gently like this. Last night’s kiss seemed a lifetime ago, but if she closed her eyes she could still feel his lips on hers. Maybe that’s why she was straining towards him right now.
“What you said before…” Jack murmured, his attention on her jaw and lips. “Did you mean it?”
“About loving you?” She swallowed.
His eyes didn’t leave her injury, and she felt his fingers skimming lightly over the mushy-feeling skin of her wounded cheek, but he nodded once, curtly.
“Yes.”
He exhaled, as if in relief. And then his eyes met hers, and she forgot how to breathe. “You’ll have a bruise, but I don’t think any teeth are loose.”
It wasn’t what she’d expected. “What?”
“I needed to check, see, before…”
“Before what?” Could she possibly lean any closer to him?
“Before this,” he murmured, right before he lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was everything it had been last night, and more. This one was full of heat, and desperation, but also trust and hope for a future. Together. It lasted forever, but was over in too few heartbeats.
When they pulled apart, he crushed her against his chest, and she happily wrapped her arms around his waist, to anchor him there. “Meri, I haven’t deserved you. At all. But…” She heard his heart beating under his shirt, and knew that she wanted to hear it every day for the rest of her life. “But you make me want to be a better man. You make me a better man. I can’t ever live up to what you deserve, but…” He trailed off, and Meri lifted her head off his shoulder to stare into his eyes. Was he about to give her what she longed for? “I love you, Meredith Almassy.”
“I love you too, Jack Carpenter.”
It was the wrong thing to say. She saw him flinch, saw him begin to retreat, and she squeezed him to get his attention. Chagrined, he looked down again. “Osbourne was the one who told me to take a new name. I was Gothel for my whole life, but he made me promise to be someone else when I got out.”
“You are someone else. You’re Doctor Carpenter.”
“I’m not a real doctor, Meri.”
“But you’re Zelle’s real father, and my…” What was he to her? “Well, everyone assumes we’re married.”
His expression turned wary again. “And what about you? Do you want to be married to me?”
She took a deep breath, and told the truth. “More than anything else in the whole world, Jack.”
“I still don’t deserve you, Meri. And once people find out what happened today…”
“Why would they find out? We’ll bury him. We won’t tell anyone.” His suddenly haunted expression made her hurry to continue, “And if there’s anyone who asks, we’ll just tell them that it’s none of their business.”
“And Zelle?”
“We can tell her when she’s old enough, if you want. Or not. It’s your decision.”
He pulled her back against him again. “Our decision, Mrs. Carpenter.”
She sighed, and tried to wiggle closer. “Everyone considers us married already, Jack, but I’d sure like the preacher to bless us when he comes through Everland next. If you don’t mind being married to me, I mean.”
“You want to make it official?” She nodded against his shoulder, and felt him drop a kiss on her forehead. “Well, alright then.” A deep breath. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to justify your faith in me, Meri, but here goes: Will you marry me? For real, I mean?”
She was laughing when their lips met, and that was all that mattered.
Jack and Meri return in Zelle’s romance… Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Author’s Note
on Historical Accuracy
I haven’t felt the need to add a note on historical accuracy to any of the other Everland books, because… well, they’re fairy tales set in a fictional town. Surely you’re not expecting them to be completely historically accurate? But this story deserves its own little note just because it’s so inaccurate.
I wanted to tell the story of how Rapunzel came to be living with her adopted parents, and I fell in love with the characters of skittish Jack and determined Meri. But in order for it to fit the series, I had to set this “prequel” in Everland. The problem is that there really shouldn’t be an Everland in 1860! This area of the country was populated by settlers from the east, but sparsely, and almost entirely limited to the military forts that lined the Oregon Trail. The people on the trail were still trekking through hostile territory, remember.
But I’m the author, and I really, really wanted to set this story in the brand-new town of Everland, so as Captain Picard says: “Make it so.” I’ve created an Everland mythology surrounding Lake Enchantment (and you can bet that’ll come back into play in later books!) that made it semi-believable that people have settled here. And while it’s unlikely that a town this new, supplied by the Oregon Trail and forts, would’ve been so well-established (Jack moved into a furnished house, for goodness’ sakes!), well… all I can say is that I’m the author and I can do what I want to!
Another major hurdle to get over was the money. In 1860, the U.S. didn’t have a standard set of bills yet, so Jack had to steal (and then drag westward!) a sack full of gold. He’s apparently very strong. But the Rapunzel-“greens” connection was harder…
If you remember the original fairy tale, Rapunzel’s mother craves a type of salad green (called “rapunzel” in German) that only grows in the witch’s yard. She sends the father over the fence to get it, and when he’s caught, he has to promise the unborn baby to the witch in exchange for the g
reens (why she couldn’t just make do with kale, I don’t know…). So in my version, I needed a “green” connection to explain how Witcher ended up with the baby; money was the obvious solution! But wait: American greenbacks weren’t created until 1861!
Prior to the creation of the “greenback” (the U.S. currency bill backed by the federal government, which coincidentally had a greenish tint), the bills that were floating around America were issued by individual banks. So if you left the area where that bank was based, no one would recognize those bills as legal tender. Witcher tells Meri that he traded Zelle’s mother a stack of “green” (bills) for the baby… so we’re just going to pretend that the local bank used green-tinted bills, like the future greenbacks. Okay?
And while we’re on the subject of “okay,” I just want to point out that this word would’ve been spelled “O.K.” during this time period. But that looks funny to me, and I’m the author, so I made the executive decision to spell it “okay,” which makes me more comfortable. Okay?
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Zelle’s fairy tale!
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Other works by Caroline Lee
The Sweet Cheyenne Quartet
A Cheyenne Christmas
A Cheyenne Celebration
A Cheyenne Thanksgiving
A Cheyenne Christmas Homecoming
Where They Belong: A Sweet Cheyenne Christmas Novella
The Mothers of Sweet Cheyenne: A short story collection
Everland Ever After
Little Red (Rojita + Hank)
Ella (Ella + Ian)
Beauty (Arabella + Vincenzo)
The Stepmother (Meri & Jack)
Rapunzelle (Zelle & Dmitri
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From Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale
The first thing that Dmitri Nikolai Pyotr Vasilek Volvov did when he alighted from the train platform in the provincial little town of Everland was step in a pile of fekalii. The noise made as his well-oiled Hessian boot squished into it was enough to set his teeth on edge and his temper simmering. Attempting to scrape it off on the edge of the platform, he reflected that it was a fitting welcome to this last stop on his fool’s errand. The way the search had been going, of course he’d step in—what was this? He knew horse doings well enough. Was this Buffalo? Goat?
Dmitri sighed. A perfect peasant welcome to what looked to be a perfect peasant town.
Shouldering his own bags—if only Otets could see him now—he made his way down the dirt road towards the hotel the conductor had pointed out. Even from here, it wasn’t a real hotel, just an Inn. An Inn! He scowled at the quaint buildings and the peasants hurrying up and down the dirt street, careful to watch where he put his feet, for fear of another smelly welcome to Everland.
It wasn’t until he’d climbed up to the wooden sidewalk, and taken a moment to look around that he had to admit the truth; Everland wasn’t as small as some of the other places he’d passed through on the train out here. In fact, the fretwork and paint-color choices reminded him a bit of the Bavarian villages he’d seen when he was young, while still managing to be all-American. But while those houses had sat high in the crisp, cold mountain air, the bright colors somehow cheerful against the grays and whites of the near-constant snow, these buildings were coated with a layer of omnipresent dust.
Still, it was nice to find something familiar about this strange place. Strange world, really, Dmitri thought as he watched a man leading a gigantic gray ox down the town’s main road. Why would someone take their pet ox for a walk here? The man, who didn’t look addled, responded to the waves and friendly “How are you, Mr. Bunyan?” greetings. And then there was the angelic-looking little girl who was trying desperately to keep her gaggle of geese together; she smiled so sweetly at Dmitri when he tipped his hat to her that he found himself forgiving her for trying to herd the squawking animals in such a public place.
Strange place, indeed.
The man behind the desk at the Van Winkle Inn had the unlikely name of “Rip”—what was it with Americans and their love of short, nonsensical names?—and looked to be permanently asleep. Dmitri had to clear his throat twice before the old man acknowledged him, and even then he couldn’t understand one mumble. Luckily, he was able to figure out which room was his, based on the key the old man plopped on the desk before he began to snore again.
Upstairs, Dmitri wrestled with the lock, and then the knob, before finally plopping his bags on the floor of a small, but serviceable room. He might’ve even called it acceptable, were he not in such a mood.
Throwing himself on the bed—of course his boots hung off the end, due to his height, but it was just as well he not befoul the quilt—Dmitri stacked his hands behind his head and scowled at the ceiling. What was he doing here? A stupid promise to his father, and a wild-goose chase across this uncivilized continent.
If only Otets hadn’t wrested his word from him before the old man died. Granted, Dmitri would’ve done anything to keep his father happy, there at the end, even if it meant taking a fool’s oath to find Vasily Volkov’s missing goddaughter. And his father had died happy, knowing that his only son would be continuing the search.
And if only Dmitri hadn’t been so chert good at it. Within a month of making arrangements for a neighbor to care for the beloved Volkov horses, he found a lead in the slums of New York City, in America. Carefully questioning led him to a man who remembered some things—for a price, of course—and Dmitri had more answers than his father had ever received. New York was civilized enough, but to get on a train and head into this wilderness? Bah.
What he needed was a drink. What were the chances that any place in this town had a bottle of decent vodka? Of course, Dmitri had traveled with his own, not trusting the local sources, but he’d finished it somewhere around Kansas. It had been necessary, to deal with the depressing, unending flatness of America. At least here in Everland there were mountains in the distances, and rolling hills.
Tonight, he’d find some vodka. And get his boots cleaned. And maybe order a bath. And find a decent veal dinner. And tomorrow, he’d start his search for information on this Mr. Gothel and a baby girl who’d disappeared into this God-forsaken wilderness fifteen years ago.
Because he’d promised his father.
Of course, dear reader, you know who Dmitri is really looking for, don’t you? Read how he discovers Zelle’s true identity in Rapunzelle: an Everland Ever After Tale!
ACKNLOWEDGEMENTS
First of all, thank you to all of my fans; readers who enjoy sweet historical western romance crossed with fairy tales! I couldn’t do what I love without your support. I owe a grand debt to my critique partners JA Coffey and Merry Farmer, and my “I wanna be you when I grow up” mentor, Kirsten Osbourne. Thanks are also owed to my editor, the awesome Eve Hart of Hart’s Romance Pulse, and to my Cohort. If you’re on Facebook, and you adore the Everland tales enough to want to help brainstorm the next one and promote the current one, drop me a line about joining Caroline’s Cohort. The more, the merrier!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Caroline Lee is what George R.R. Martin once described as a "gardener author"; she delights in “planting” lovable characters in interesting situations, and allowing
them to “grow” their own stories. Often they draw the story along to completely unexpected--and wonderful!--places. She considers a story a success if she can re-read it and sigh dreamily... and she wishes the same for you.
A love of historical romance prompted Caroline to pursue her degrees in social history; her Master's Degree is in Comparative World History, which is the study of themes across history (for instance, 'domestication of animals throughout the world,' or 'childhood through history'). Her theme? You guessed it: Marriage throughout world history. Her favorite focus was periods of history that brought two disparate peoples together to marry, like marriage in the Levant during the Kingdom of Jerusalem, or marriage between convicts in colonial New South Wales. She hopes that she's able to bring this love of history-- and this history of love-- to her novels.
Caroline is living her own little Happily Ever After with her husband and sons in North Carolina.
You can find her at www.CarolineLeeRomance.com.