Season of Bounty by Linda Ford
At first glance, privileged Kathleen Sanderson and cowboy Buck Donahue couldn't be more different. Yet the bond between Buck and his adopted son awakens a wish in Kathleen for a family of her own--and a future they can build together.
Home for Thanksgiving by Winnie Griggs
All that stands between Ruby Anne Tuggle and a fresh start is an escort to Tyler, Texas. Rancher Griff Lassiter is too kind to refuse, but too wary of being hurt again to offer anything but friendship. Then a fever forces an unexpected detour and a chance to find the place they both belong...
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October 01, 2011
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Excerpt from Once Upon a Thanksgiving by Linda Ford
Kathleen Sanderson cracked open the door. Before her stood a rough-looking man twisting a battered Stetson in his hands. His bent head revealed overgrown, untidy brown hair. Her glance took in the trail-worn, dusty, shearling-lined coat.
"Rosie, I know you told me to stay away, but I need your help." He raised his head to reveal demanding brown eyes that widened before they bored into Kathleen. "You're not Rosie."
"True. She's busy with the baby. If you'll wait--"
"Buck." Rosie's voice rang with shock as she joined Kathleen in the doorway. "I thought I'd made myself clear."
"I'll take the baby." Kathleen lifted nine-month-old Lilly from her mother's arms and retreated to the far end of the room, wishing the house was larger so she could escape and let these two work out their differences without her as audience. Yet this way her curiosity might be satisfied.
"Buck," Rosie continued, keeping her words low but not disguising her concern, "I told you I don't want to be associated with--" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You know...Go away before you ruin every thing."
Buck lifted his head, glanced past Rosie, saw Kathleen and shuttered his feelings, but not before she'd seen stark misery. He didn't shift his gaze away, making it impossible for her to get a satisfying breath. Then he returned his attention to Rosie and her lungs expanded with a whoosh.
"I wouldn't be here if I knew what else to do." A beat, two, in which Kathleen wondered if Rosie found his statement as demanding as she did.
"Rosie, I have a son and he's ill. I can't chase after cows or live in a bunkhouse with a sick kid. You're my sister. My only relative. Surely you'll help me for the sake of my son."
Rosie gasped. "You're married? Without even letting me know?"
"Not married. I adopted the boy. Help us?"
"I don't know." Rosie glanced over her shoulder toward Kathleen as if seeking some signal one way or the other from her.
Kathleen sensed how troubled Rosie was. Understood something about this man made her tremble.
She shifted Lilly to her hip and moved to Rosie's side to indicate her support, but it wasn't clear in her mind if she meant to encourage Rosie or her brother. "Rosie, how would you feel if it was one of your boys?" She had two--Mattie, two and a half, and Junior, four years old--who both nosed around the corner of the bedroom where they'd been playing to eye this stranger at their door.
Buck sent Kathleen a grateful glance before he appealed to Rosie. "I'd help you. You know it." The emotion in his tone caught at Kathleen's heart. A man who cared deeply. Her heart buckled and bowed with feelings she didn't recognize. Had never before in her nineteen years experienced.
Buck stepped aside. "Look at him."
A child of no more than six or seven slumped on the back of a pinto horse, wrapped up against the elements until he could barely move. Kathleen wondered for a moment if he was alive. Then he swayed, righted himself to keep from falling and lifted his face. Black eyes. A pale, thin face framed by black hair and a gray knitted hat.
"He's an Indian." Rosie's tone carried a hefty dose of disbelief and shock.
"Half-breed." The way Buck said it made Kathleen think he must have said so enough times to grow weary of making the explanation.
"You adopted him?"
Buck nodded. "I'll tell you the whole story if you let us in. He needs to be warm and dry."
Rosie rocked her head back and forth and gave careful consideration to the faces of each of her children.
"Rosie," Kathleen urged, knowing this was none of her business, yet not able to turn her back on a man and child needing help. More than that, who needed a welcome.
Not everyone would understand her concern. She knew that well enough. If her parents saw this pair on the street they would turn their backs and pretend they didn't exist. They'd rush Kathleen by and try to shield her from seeing them. Her parents had objected strenuously when Kathleen mentioned she would like to befriend Rosie.
"She's not our sort," Father said.
"The children are always grubby," Mother added, shuddering and pressing her lace-trimmed, mono-grammed hankie to her nose as if the mere mention of them offended her senses.
"She's alone," Kathleen pointed out, not adding that Kathleen felt almost as alone much of the time. "Her husband is working in a logging camp and she has three little ones." At least Rosie had her babies. Kathleen had no one but Mother and Father. Not for the first time, she wondered why her friends never seemed to last. Was there something about her that made her forgettable? Or worse? Maybe she somehow, unknowingly, repelled people. "I think she appreciates me visiting." She helped as much as she could without offending Rosie.
Father studied her for a moment. "How did you meet her?"
She'd told them before but they hadn't listened. "She was leaving the store with an armload of groceries, trying to hold the baby and keep track of little Mattie, who was set on exploring the display of shovels. She dropped a letter in the confusion and I picked it up and offered to help her get home."
"She lives across town, doesn't she?"
"Yes." He knew that, too, of course. He only wanted to make sure Kathleen realized how inappropriate he considered her association with someone from the poor side of town. "She's new in Hopewell and doesn't know anyone. Everyone needs friends." Neither parent relented, but she knew exactly what to say to get their permission to visit again. "Aren't we, as Christians, commanded to welcome strangers?"
Her father's silence meant reluctant acquiescence.
She had been back several times and thought Rosie welcomed her. On her part, Kathleen enjoyed someone her age to visit with.
As she thought how they were slowly becoming friends, Rosie stood at the door, patting her fingertips together in a rapid dance. "I don't want any trouble." She flung about to stare into the center of the room. "Once people learn who Buck is and see his kid..." She didn't say what she expected would happen.
"Who is he?" Who was this man who took in a half-breed child and begged an unwelcome invitation to care for him? It made her long to enter his thoughts and explore them.
She hadn't even finished the question when he said, "I don't intend anyone should find out I'm here. I won't stay any longer than I need to. Only long enough for Joey to get his strength."