Sweet Twisted Pine , livre ebook

Outskirts Press - Lori R. Hodges

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

174 pages

English

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Michael Mullen-born into wealth and solid family ties-is an unlikely hero. He lives a blessed life in 1880s Philadelphia society, but when his sister, Lucy, disappears, his entire world will soon change. This strong, confident professor of literature must leave his sheltered life and go west. His journey leads him to a rough ranching town in northern Colorado, where he'll have to learn to survive while trying to discover why his sister was taken. Never having left the city before, Michael is tested at every turn. Colorado is about as far from home as he could be, and he feels clumsy, awkward, and horribly out of place. His situation hardly improves when he meets Sarah Donnelly and her three brothers, a family that may be able to lead him to his sister. Sarah is rash, temperamental, and the furthest thing from a lady Michael has ever seen-and her three brothers prove to Michael at every opportunity that the West is not for the meek. With the help of the Donnelly family, Michael must learn to survive and master the skills needed to confront his fears-and face off against the greatest threat to his own family.

Sujets

Historical

Fiction

Informations

Publié par	Outskirts Press
Date de parution	04 septembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781977218254
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0500€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Sweet Twisted Pine All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2019 Lori R. Hodges v1.0
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com
ISBN: 978-1-9772-1825-4
Cover Photo © 2019 www.gettyimages.com .. All rights reserved - used with permission.
Outskirts Press and the "OP" logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1: THE JOURNEY
2: THE PAWN
3: THE FIRE WITHIN
4: HORSES AND OTHER DELIGHTFUL CREATURES
5: AN ENTIRELY NEW LIGHT
6: LONE TREE, COLORADO
7: THE TRUTH ABOUT SAVAGES
8: THE LAZY D
9: LUCY
10: A TIME FOR HEALING
11: SIX MOONS
12: THE LOSS OF INNOCENCE
13: A GLIMPSE OF HOPE
14: ENEMIES IN OUR MIDST
15: A COWBOY IS BORN
16: TENDERFOOT
17: SETTLING IN
18: CHRISTMAS GIVING
19: A WOMAN’S CHARMS
20: PUNISHMENT
21: THE FACE OF DEATH
22: SECRETS REVEALED
23: LOST IN THE WOODS
24: HOME SWEET HOME
25: THE LONG GOOD-BYE
26: THE FIGHT BEGINS
27: REDEMPTION
28: THE COST OF REVENGE
29: MAGGIE
EPILOGUE
1
THE JOURNEY
O CTOBER 1882
I stared out the train window as passengers boarded in Cheyenne, Wyoming, trying to keep my mind from replaying nightmarish images. Images of my sister and where she might be. Images detailing what may have happened to her. It was the final leg of my journey, and the beauty of the landscape was the only thing keeping me sane. Whenever anxiety built in my chest, I’d focus out my window and concentrate on the vast landscape. Almost there.
I knew that the longer it took me to get to Colorado, the less chance I had of finding Lucy. I had never been this far west, and had no idea what my options would be once I arrived in Fort Collins. For the first time in my life, I had no answers. I tugged at the tightness of my starched collar and fidgeted in my seat.
From my pocket, I pulled out the short message left for me in Philadelphia. When the patrolman had shown up on my doorstep, in the middle of the night, asking me to identify a body found in an alley, I’d never thought the note and the body would be connected to the disappearance of my sister. I unfolded the missive and stared at the lines on the page before me.
An elderly man boarded the train. He didn’t move well, and his knees popped when he sat down across from me. His face softened with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir," he said pleasantly, taking off his hat. He wore an impeccable dark blue suit and tie and a constant smile upon his face.
"Pleased to meet you, sir," I said with a slight nod of my head. "Michael Mullen."
"Leo Biehler, sir." He spoke with a bit of a chuckle in his voice and a twinkle in his eye as he shook my hand. I was pleased to have him seated near me, as I craved a bit of the sophistication I’d left back home.
Another voice jarred me from my reflections, and I looked up to see a tall woman in her late twenties yell at a man and push him with her bag as she boarded the train. Although her hair was pulled back into a bun, several dusty brown strands had come loose and hung in damp tendrils around her face. She was filthy. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her soiled clothes made her look as if she had rolled around in the mud and filth outside. Surprisingly, however, the dress she wore was of the finest quality.
As she walked down the aisle, a man made a crude comment to her and then grabbed her backside firmly with his left hand. I sprang up and moved to intervene, unable to accept such conduct, but I stopped abruptly when I saw her silently and swiftly pull a knife out of her skirt and hold it between the man’s legs. "If you value your manhood," she warned ruthlessly, "you’ll take your grimy hands off me, you plug-ugly son of a bitch!"
The man jerked his hand away and apologized for his behavior. The woman retracted her knife with a smile and continued along the aisle as if nothing happened. I sat back down, my mouth agape, and continued to stare as she came toward me. I had never seen a woman act like that.
"What are you staring at?" she shouted, standing in front of me.
"Pardon me, ma’am." I quickly averted me eyes and turned my attention to the paper in my hand, hoping she’d keep moving through the compartment.
Instead of moving on, however, she shoved her bag under a seat and sat down across from me, next to Mr. Biehler. Dust from her clothes wafted around the area and into the air. I quickly folded the note and placed it in the inner pocket of my jacket, close to my heart. I tried to keep my eyes focused elsewhere but found myself watching her surreptitiously. She was not as horrible as I had first imagined. In fact, her face would be quite lovely if she washed it.
"Good afternoon to you, ma’am," Mr. Biehler said pleasantly, tipping his hat in her direction.
The two entered into a pleasant conversation. As we traveled, I learned that she lived in Colorado and had just spent several weeks in Wyoming on family business. While she was pleasant toward Mr. Biehler, she continued to remain quite cold with me. Whenever I’d attempt to add something to the conversation, or when Mr. Biehler asked me a question, she looked away with annoyance. Perfect, I thought. Let them talk. Better him than me.
I glanced up occasionally from my book at the people around me and decided that perhaps she had good reason to treat me with such distaste. After what happened when she boarded the train, with the rude man and his unwelcome groping, I understood why she would avoid the attentions of a younger man. This was a very different world than the one I had known in Philadelphia. The farther west we traveled, the more severe the people seemed. I wondered what my fellow professors would think of such a place.
I glanced once more at the woman as she talked to Mr. Biehler. Personal cleanliness isn’t too important out here either, I thought, returning my gaze to the book in my lap.
Mr. Biehler remained pleasant and chatty throughout our train travel. He said he was traveling to Denver, Colorado, to visit his daughter, which gave me hope that he might help me once we arrived. As soon as the offensive woman headed to the dining car, I decided to ask him about Fort Collins. I knew he had spent several months in Colorado when his daughter first moved out West.
"What brings you to Colorado, Mr. Mullen?" he asked before I had a chance to question him.
"My little sister," I said softly. I hadn’t spoken to anyone about her since I’d left Philadelphia, and it felt a little strange doing so. Actually, I was desperate to find someone to confide in, someone who could help me.
"Does she live out here?"
"No, not exactly," I said hesitantly, clearing my throat. "Actually, I live in Philadelphia with my sister, Lucy. She … um … disappeared, over a week ago." I studied Mr. Biehler’s face closely as I continued, hoping to find even one small answer to my mountain of questions. "I’ve received information that leads me to believe she’s been taken out West. I’m trying to get to a ranch in northern Colorado, owned by the Donnelly family, where an old friend of my father’s lives. Do you know anything about the area?"
"I don’t really know much. Denver is the only place I have traveled in Colorado." He paused and then asked in a softer tone, "Why do you believe your sister is in Colorado?"
I hesitated, not knowing how much to tell. But I also knew my time was limited, and I needed to get information. "About a week ago, I found out a man was in my neighborhood asking questions about my family. Then my sister caught him following her. You have to understand my sister. Nothing, not even an act of God, could stop my sister from going where she wanted to go, so we agreed to have Arthur, an old family friend, escort her on her daily outings to the hospital where she volunteered." I smiled. My family had employed Arthur after he’d sailed from Ireland to America with my father. He’d watched Lucy and me grow up, and we trusted him. "You must understand that Arthur is a huge man in both height and build, so it is unlikely that anyone would approach him, let alone cause trouble around him."
Mr. Biehler leaned forward as I continued my tale.
"I went to work at the university as I did every day, but I remained troubled. Lucy means more to me than anyone in this world. I went for a walk and tried to get information about the man from some of the merchants on Market and Chestnut streets, but I found out nothing. When I returned home that evening, Arthur said he’d dropped Lucy off at a friend’s. He promised to pick her up the next morning, so I didn’t worry too much."
I paused in my story, remembering the anxiety I’d felt when Arthur awakened me late in the night and insisted that I come downstairs. Clearing my thoughts, I continued. "A patrolman stood at my front door late that night. He was investigating a murder in an alley a few blocks from where Lucy was staying. Convinced that it was Lucy, I grabbed the officer by his shoulders and almost committed bodily harm when he refused to give me any information. He took me by carriage down Broad Street to Bainbridge, where he led me down a dark alley. They’d covered the body with a dark wool blan