by Vivi Holt
Genevieve bustled in with a grin. “Oh my dear, you look radiant.” They embraced, and Genevieve dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips. “I’m sorry, I get so emotional these days. I can’t seem to help myself.”
Jane laughed. “Never mind, I feel quite emotional myself. What should we do with my hair, do you think?”
Genevieve lifted a strand of Jane’s long blond hair high with her fingers and let it fall down Jane’s back. “I always liked when you wore it with those long loops around your face. I think you should do that, and I’ll twist it into a chignon in the back for you if you like.”
“Perfect.”
When they were done, Jane drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “How do you feel?” Genevieve asked.
“Wonderful, excited, happy … I can’t wait to marry Dusty. I can’t quite believe it – I’d given up all hope of that ever happening. I’m still in shock.”
“I know just what you mean.”
***
The sleigh ride to the valley chapel was long and tiring, and Thomas, Genevieve and Jane didn’t arrive until after lunch. Dusty and the rest of the crew had ridden there earlier that morning to set everything up and welcome their guests. Thomas pulled the wagon up beside the building and helped the women out before covering the horses with blankets and picketing them.
Sarah and Bill met them outside, Sarah holding Jocelyn in her arms. “Jane, we’re so happy for you.” She kissed Jane’s cheek, and Jane took a moment to tickle the baby beneath her chubby chin.
Jocelyn cooed, and the corner of her tiny mouth turned up into a brief smile as her eyes locked onto Jane’s. “She smiled! She smiled at me! Oh, what a little darling she is.”
Sarah laughed with delight, and a warm feeling flooded through Jane. These were her people, her family from now on. She felt so loved and accepted already, though she’d only been part of their lives such a brief time.
Sarah and Bill hurried back into the church to let everyone know Jane was ready. She stood outside with Genevieve and Thomas until they heard the sound of Mary Drotherton’s fiddle drawing them in. Thomas opened the door, and he and Genevieve walked arm in arm to the front. It was dark inside, and it took a few moments for Jane’s eyes to adjust. When they did, she saw the place was packed, including all the ranch hands and Dr. Underhill.
Everyone present turned their heads to watch her walk the short distance to the front of the church, and her throat tightened. She felt so strange, having everyone’s eyes trained on her. She glanced awkwardly from side to side and tried hard to smile, but a flutter of panic began to rise from her gut.
Then she noticed Emily Thompson standing at the end of a pew. The girl smiled at her, while beside her, her brothers stood solemnly in their new suits. Next to them a man and woman in drab clothing watched with their hands clasped together in front of them, looking ill at ease. Jane guessed they must be Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, whom she’d never met. They must have travelled a long way to be there just for her. The lump in her throat shifted and began to work its way up. Her eyes smarted and she quickly dashed away a happy tear.
Her gaze shifted to the front of the church, where Dusty stood, his hands behind his back and his eyes glistening. He smiled even wider when her eyes met his, and his teeth shone white through his thick beard. The pain in her throat dissipated, and she no longer felt alone. She was surrounded by people who cared for her.
She made her way to where Dusty waited, stopped beside him and smiled nervously. The strains of the lilting melody drifted away and Mary hurried to find a seat with her family.
“Welcome all,” began Rev. Latsch with a warm grin. He winked at Jane, setting her at ease. “We are here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony …”
When Dusty took her hands in his, joy filled her heart. Rev. Langston led them through the vows and she said hers with a steady, clear voice, glad to commit herself to love and cherish the man before her all the days of her life. She wondered what the future might bring, what challenges they’d face. Regardless, she knew Dusty was who she’d want by her side when times were tough. He’d face them with the same calm determination she’d seen in him so many times, even when she’d almost died.
The ceremony was brief and before she knew it, Jane was Mrs. Damon Lewis. Rev. Langston gave Dusty permission to kiss his bride, and he took her into his arms and stopped there for a moment, his eyes gazing deep into hers. Her pulse quickened and she waited breathlessly for their first kiss as husband and wife. It was soft when it came, as he closed his eyes to press his lips against hers.
“Are you ready to be Mrs. Lewis?” he whispered against her hair with a chuckle afterward.
“Well, it’s too late for me to back out now,” she laughed.
“I guess you’re stuck with me then,” he quipped.
“Guess so. And you with me.”
“That makes me the luckiest man in the world.” He smirked and traced a line down the side of her face, then kissed her again.
***
The next day, Dusty drove Jane to the cottage he’d built for them. They pulled up to the front of the cozy log house, and Jane immediately knew she’d be happy there. While he unloaded the sleigh and settled the horse team in the small stable behind the cottage, she studied the garden plot and wandered around the outside of the building, looking over the spring house and deep well already dug and waiting to be used. A cow munched on hay in a yard beside the stable, and several chickens scratched around it.
Jane knew then that her life had turned a corner. She’d begun a new adventure, one that would change everything for her. She grinned and ran her fingertips along the wall as she strolled back around to the front of the house.
Dusty met her there, having just taken their luggage inside. He smiled, crossed the distance between then in an instant, cupped her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly. She trembled, and for a breathless moment nothing existed but the two of them.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Lewis,” he said with a chuckle. She laughed as he swept her up into his arms. He carried her through the front door and over the threshold, then kissed her on the tip of her nose, before setting her down on her feet.
She looked around the cozy room, complete with stove and attached chimney. There was a back door and another doorway, probably to the bedroom. The cottage was small, but she loved every inch of it. It was theirs and they were a family.
“I’m home,” Jane whispered. And deep inside she knew it was true. She was finally home.
The End
—
Read on for a FREE gift, and an excerpt from bestseller, The Strong One…
My Gift to you
Alternate Tale
Yours FREE!
Click here to download an alternate tale for Winds of Paradise. This action-packed short story takes you on a journey through Sarah Songan-Hanover’s nightmare as ghosts of her past come back to haunt her.
This story is set in the time of Winds of Paradise, but is not part of the book. It is an alternate tale, a story of possibilities, of things that might have happened or could yet happen.
It’s yours free when you sign up to my New Release Newsletter. This short story is exclusively available to my newsletter subscribers. It will have you perched on the edge of your seat! I hope you enjoy it.
With love,
Vivi
Author’s Note
and Historical Remarks
When I first wrote Winds of Paradise, it included a secondary storyline involving Sarah Songan-Hanover and ghosts from her past. But when I sent it to an editor, she suggested I remove it since it detracted from the book’s main theme — the romance between Jane and Dusty. So, I did - and included a link to it as a short story at the end of this book. I hope you will enjoy it - if you’re a part of my newsletter, you’ll have it sent to you as a thank you for your support.
The first book in this series was a bestseller in its category, and received glowing reviews, so I really wanted
to do the sequel justice. My intention with this book, was to continue the story of the Paradise Valley characters, while building a sweet romance between Jane and Dusty.
Dusty was the kind-eyed cowboy Genevieve followed to the chuck wagon in Fort Worth years earlier, and I always wanted to give him his own story. He seemed to deserve that, and I thought a teacher with a past would be just the thing for him.
Homesteading, or ranching, is an important part of Montana’s history, and Paradise Ranch serves to illustrate the type of place on which Montana’s traditions were built. I love the camaraderie between the ranch hands, and the affection that grows amongst them. I also love the way the entire community pulls together to support and help each other in very practical ways (like a barn raising), but also sharing in life’s celebrations, such as Jane and Dusty’s wedding.
One of the things I love about the west in that time period was that women got to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise been able to. They could wear split skirts, ride astride, and hunt with the men. I was excited to be able to include that kind of adventure for Jane — knowing it’s something she never would have done had she remained in Boston.
On the other hand, one of the worst things about that time period was the danger posed by fires. And this book delves into that tragic history first with Cookie’s story of loss, then with Jane’s own personal experience.
The pioneering life was also hard for many children - and we can see that through the Thompson children. One of my favorite book series of all time is the Little House series, by Laura Ingalls-Wilder. And I always remember how they rarely wore shoes, since they had only the one pair, and their dresses were often too short and well worn. Not only that, but many times they had to walk miles by themselves every day to get to school and back home again. The Thompson children too give us a glimpse of how difficult life was for so many children in the old west.
Finally, the tragedy of Jane’s parents must be addressed. Back in this time period, people didn’t spend a lot of time in gaol (as it was called). They were arrested, and if found guilty they were punished almost immediately. Such was the lot of Jane’s parents, who suffered at the hands of a swift justice.
I hope you enjoyed the story of Jane and Dusty’s romance. I look forward to returning to Paradise Valley again soon, and hope you’ll join me.
Warmest regards,
Vivi Holt
Excerpt from The Strong One
(Cutter’s Creek, book 2)
Chapter 1
1866
Sarah Songan stuck the end of one dirty finger into her mouth and chewed anxiously on the tattered nail. The nail was already so short there was nothing left to bite off. She flicked the finger from her mouth and strained her eyes across to the other side of the camp to watch the group of men gathered around the chief’s wickiup. She shuddered, and returned the finger to her mouth.
“Sarah!” admonished an older woman sitting with a group of womenfolk beside the embers of a waning fire.
Sarah knelt next to them and went to work slicing bison meat into thin strips, making sure to leave a nice layer of fat on each piece for added flavor. As she finished each cut, she glanced back at the group, noticing the chief gesturing emphatically to the elders to punctuate some point he was making. She shivered again, considering what they were likely discussing. She knew that she was the topic of conversation, but what were they saying about her?
The smoke from the fire wafted into Sarah’s eyes, making them smart and blocking her view across the camp. She coughed and shifted around to the side of the fire circle. Behind her, the doorway of the wickiup flapped gently in the breeze, and the feathers hanging near the peak of the structure bent and swayed in time to the soughing of the long, green grasses surrounding the campsite.
The camp itself was set on one side of a lush valley, and the rolling hills on either side were garnished with yellow buttercups, blue asters, and sweet, pink, wild roses.
Sarah sighed in contentment, sweeping her gaze across the colorful landscape and feeling the peacefulness of the valley filtering into her soul for just a moment. Then she caught sight once again of the group of elders huddled together discussing her fate and her heart jumped in her chest. What would they decide? The flap over the doorway of Chief Mutaweer’s wickiup opened for a moment, and a flash of brown swept through the doorway and disappeared into the heart of the camp.
Sarah smiled and bent her head over her work. She thought quickly, then rose to her feet.
“I need a drink of water,” she said to the upturned faces of the group. Then she turned to run downhill to the nearby creek bed before any of the women could object.
Reaching the side of the creek, she knelt and scooped a handful of clear, sweet water up to her mouth, savoring its cool refreshment. In a moment the flash of brown was there, giggling and splashing creek water into her eyes.
“Ky! Stop!” she laughed, falling onto her side against the tall reeds and grasses at the water’s edge.
Ky sat beside her with a thump and pushed stray strands of her thick, black hair away from her face. It was decorated lavishly with beads and feathers, and her buckskin dress had lines of multi-colored beads sewn into it as well, indicating her status as the chief’s daughter.
“So?” asked Sarah, her wide, green eyes watching Ky’s face intently.
“So, they say you’re to be married,” said Ky, her expression becoming serious. She pulled a stalk of grass from the ground and chewed on the end, pensively.
“Married? To who?”
“Some white man over at Fort Smith.”
Sarah threw herself back against the creek bank, her hands over her eyes. Ky lay beside her, squinting up into the bright sky above with one eye closed, the end of the stalk still moving about in her mouth.
“I don’t want to get married. Especially not to some white soldier I’ve never met. I can’t leave my family to live at that Fort with a bunch of strangers. I don’t want to leave you; you’re my best friend. What am I going to do?”
Ky wrinkled her nose, and sat up to face Sarah. “They said that you’re too much of a risk to keep here. You’re not really a true Apsáalooke, seeing as how your father was a white man. Your mother always fought to keep you here, and because she was the old chief’s daughter they respected her wishes. But now that she’s dead, they say you can’t stay.”
Sarah jerked up beside her, her heart pounding in fear. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened.
“You look too much like a white woman, and with your green eyes every warrior who sees you, wants you as his bride. They’ve already had to fight several skirmishes with the Sioux and Cheyenne because of you. And if the white man finds out you’re here, they’re worried that he’ll come after you as well.”
A frown creased Sarah’s forehead, and her lips tightened as she pictured the elders speaking with the chief about her future as though she were no more valuable than horse flesh or buffalo hides.
“They want to strengthen their alliance with the white soldiers, since the Sioux and Cheyenne are always baying at our door. They say a Crow alliance with the White Man is the only way we can hope to survive. So, they’re going to use you to build that bridge.”
Sarah had been studying the length of a reed beside her as Ky spoke. Its heavy head bent toward the ground as though it were bowing to the bubbling creek below. She pulled it up from the root, threw it to the ground with a hiss, and stood to her feet, stamping her moccasins in the damp soil.
“I won’t let them use me like a set of beads or a coat of fur to trade for favors. My destiny isn’t to be a slave for a white soldier. My mother taught me to speak English so that I could one day make my way in the white world if I needed to. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll run away and decide my own fate.”
Ky’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Run away? You can’t do that. What will my father say? Where will you go?”
“I don’t care what he says, and I’m not staying to f
ind out. I’ll leave at dusk. Maybe I’ll be able to get a job in Hardin. They say that town is growing like the prairie grasses in summer. I’ll go there, and make my own way in the world. Only, I do wish I didn’t have to leave you behind.”
Sarah’s voice softened, and she stepped forward to grab Ky’s hands with her own, holding them tightly as tears formed in her eyes.
“You’re the only one left on this earth who cares about me.”
Ky pulled her close, and wrapped her arms about Sarah’s shoulders. She cried softly into Sarah’s wavy brown hair, and sniffled.
“Then don’t go.”
“You heard your father, I have to leave – one way or the other. I’d rather do it on my own terms.”
“I guess that’s true,” began Ky, stepping back and wrinkling her nose, “though maybe I can talk to him.”
“No, you know him well enough to realize that wouldn’t do a bit of good. In his eyes we’re not nineteen. He still sees us as those five-year-old girls who squeezed onto his lap to hear stories of the ancestors’ battles.”
“You’re right. He would pretend to listen to what I have to say, and then, when we least expected it, he’d ship you off to Fort Smith without telling me.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. Her expression dejected, she turned to face the camp, nestled in the clearing in front of them. Winding trails of smoke climbed slowly skyward, the smell of roasting bison meat wafted to them on the breeze, and the cozy wickiups reminded her of nights spent nestled together with her mother with the icy Montana winds whistling overhead.
“All right, well at least let me help you. And make sure you don’t get caught; they’ll just send you right back here, and then you’ll really be in for it.”
“I could use your help to get away from the camp without being noticed. Don’t worry though, I don’t plan on getting caught,” said Sarah. Her gaze roamed across the camp where the steady beat of activity carried on as usual in preparation for the evening meal, while Sarah’s world crumbled around her.