by Sharon Ihle
Although Donovan no longer looked worried about the pressman or Libby's brother, she thought he did seem to be a tad concerned about her. "Everything's all right then?" he asked. "We're getting married?"
"Oh, I didn't say that." She batted her lashes in a way that would have made her friend Dell enormously proud. "I haven't exactly said yes, yet. I don't want to make this too easy for you."
"Aw, come on, Libby."
"I have to be sure—sure that you'll do anything to protect me and our children from harm."
"Of course, I will. I swear it." He slapped his palm to his chest.
"You'll do... anything?"
"Yes, yes. How can I prove it to you?"
"Easy." Libby knew her expression had to be deliciously conspiratorial. She couldn't have hidden it. "It seems this newspaper office and the entire upstairs are overrun with mice."
Donovan started and made a kind of strangled sound deep in his throat, but to his credit, he didn't utter a word of protest.
"If you can get rid of those mice, I'll marry you. Oh, and by the way—we grow them as big as rats out here in Wyoming Territory."
The End
Author's Note
I got the idea for writing the story of Donovan and Libby while in the midst of researching my novel, The Bride Wore Spurs, as several scenes in that book were also set in Laramie, Wyoming Territory. As I studied the town's history, I came across the fact that in 1870 this small frontier burg was the first to grant women the right to vote. Since it took another fifty years for the nation to recognize women as intelligent, reasoning creatures, I began to wonder exactly what could have made the suffragists' battle go on for so long. Surely fifty percent of the population could have convinced enough of their hard-headed men to grant the vote sooner—couldn't they?
I dug deeper, and that's when I stumbled over the fact that lobbyists—special interest groups like the liquor and textile industries—had a firm grip on the reins of this nation's policy-makers, even way back then. When I queried others about this injustice, nobody seemed to know that these groups played such a large part in keeping the minds of American women in their kitchens—hidden away in little glass jars, as it were, like raspberry preserves. It is for those women, and myself, that I wrote this book. I hope you enjoyed it.
Read more by Sharon Ihle
The following pages are excerpts from
The Bride Wore Spurs
Wild Rose.
Excerpt from
The Bride Wore Spurs
by
Sharon Ihle
A man who wears spurs has high expectations.
A woman who wears spurs has a mind of her own.
Hawke sighed heavily, but froze in place. "What's the problem now, Lacey?"
"'Tisn't a problem as much as I'm wonderin'. What are you doing?"
He cocked his head and smiled at her. "Removing your drawers and boots to make you more comfortable, is all. May I go on?"
"Er, ah—no. I would like to take care of, of my clothing myself. As for the boots..." She pushed her heels deeper into the straw, making sure he couldn't see the spurs. "I would like to keep them on, if you don't mind."
Hawke stared at her incredulously. He'd heard of cowboys and gunmen who insisted on dying with their boots on, but this was a first. He shrugged. "If that's what you want, Irish, that's what you'll have."
"Aye, and I thank you kindly." She sat there waiting a moment, but when he didn't move, Lacey waved her fingers at him. "If you would be so kind as to look away, I'll be getting to it."
She thought she saw the corners of Hawke's mouth wobbling again as he turned his back, but she didn't care. This was embarrassing enough as it was without him looking at every little private detail of her life. And besides, if he watched, she'd never get her drawers over her boots without him spotting the spurs. Lacey quickly removed her underpinnings, buried them in the straw at her feet, then lay back down.
"You can turn around now. I am ready."
"Are you?" he asked, moving alongside her until his lips were a warm breath away from hers. "Are you sure this time, Lacey?"
She gazed into his eyes, not quite as dark with passion as they'd been, but mesmerizing just the same, then glanced down to his mouth. His lips were parted, moist and ready to claim hers again. Suddenly, Lacey wasn't just ready, but eager.
"Aye," she whispered throatily. "I'm ready for you, my husband."
Excerpt from
Wild Rose
by
Sharon Ihle
Have you forgotten that you are to make your debut today?"
Of all the things she had forgotten, this fact was not one of them. She lowered her lashes and bit her bottom lip. "No, I didn't forget. I'm just not sure I want to go through with it."
"Not go through with it?" Dane's temper exploded. "You dare to stand there and tell me that after I have troubled myself to bring your family here, after my mother has spent hours preparing you for this day? Does nothing we do hold any value for you?"
Tears stung the back of her eyes, but Maxine wouldn't give in. "None of this was my idea. I never asked you or your mother to turn me into something I'm not. Hell—before I met you, I didn't know anything was wrong with me."
She tried to pull away from his grip, but Dane held her fast. With her accusations burning in his ears, he narrowed his gaze. "My mother and I are simply trying to teach you some manners, to help you become lady enough to attract a large dowry. Have you forgotten that along with all you learned here?"
Maxine jerked out of his grip, but Dane managed to hook her arm again and spin her around. "I don't care about dowries or debts," she said. "I just want you to let me go."
"I'm not done with you yet," he snapped.
"Well I'm done with you." She tilted her chin upward. "In fact, there's nothing I want or need from you.
"Nothing?" Dane echoed, out of control. "Not even this?"
Then, before she could react, he crashed down on her mouth with his, smothering her with a kiss so brutal she could hardly believe the lips assaulting hers belonged to Dane.
Best-selling author, Sharon Ihle has written more than a dozen novels set in the American West. All have garnered rave reviews and several have foreign translations. Many of Sharon's books have won prestigious awards, and as an author, she has been a Romantic Times nominee for Career Achievement in Love and Laughter. A former Californian, Sharon now makes her home on the frozen plains of North Dakota. Hard to believe, but it's true.