I love it that the three pictures side by side, make one big picture!
Love on the Range
Coming in October!
Here’s an excerpt
Molly was just preparing to insist on clearing the table and washing the dishes when someone knocked on their front door. All right, admit it, it was pounding, someone slammed the side of their fist into the wood.
“Mercy,” the parson rose quickly, “someone must be badly in need of a parson.”
He rushed to the door, swung it open
Wyatt stood there, glowering.
Molly’s stomach twisted. “I think they are here for me, Parson.” Her voice rose so the Hunt brothers—all three of them stood there—could hear her. “They must have doubts about allowing a self-supporting, intelligent, adult woman, to make her own decisions and live her own life.”
Mrs. Brownley arched one brow at her. Molly had no doubt her tone wasn’t lost on Ida Brownley.
She saw Kevin looking worried. Probably because he had to leave his wife behind for more than ten minutes.
Falcon, he didn’t look overly upset.
Wyatt charged in, follow by the other Hunt brothers…but only one of them actually her real brother.
Molly slapped her napkin on the table. “Are you three taking up brotherly outings now?”
Wyatt glowered, like he had been since they opened the door—and why? She hadn’t done anything wrong? Kevin’s brow furrowed with worry. Falcon grinned at her.
She knew, even if they didn’t, that their protest was all out of guilt. They didn’t really want her underfoot. They were all just bound up by their sense of responsibility.
“Come and join us at the table,” Mrs. Brownley gestured. “Would you like some ham? I made quite a bit thinking to leftovers, but I’d be delighted to share it with you.”
The parson pulled two extra chairs up. It was crowded but there was enough room. Kevin rounded the table and shoved a chair in beside Molly, while Falcon and Wyatt sat across from them, Wyatt straight across from Molly.
“We haven’t had supper, Mrs. Brownley.” Wyatt seemed to be very friendly with the couple. “I’d be mighty glad to have some of your fried ham. On Sunday, I’ll bring you in a couple of our older roosters for your stew pot.”
“That sounds wonderful. We’d appreciate that.”
Wyatt took a piece of tender, sliced ham from the serving platter. “I’ve had your fried ham at a church social, Ma’am. It’s a wonder what you can do with a slice of pork.”
Mrs. Brownley pinked up nicely and passed a bowl still half full of potatoes. The men started serving themselves as if…Molly scowled. As if she wasn’t there with a hot meal when they came in at night. As if she wasn’t there to wait on them hand and foot, and now they were starving and letting some other poor woman do it.
“It’s a wonder, really, Wyatt, that you didn’t starve to death before I arrived in Wyoming.”
“Now, Molly,” Kevin sat beside her, pouring gravy over his potatoes and turnips and ham. He near to drowned the whole plate. “we’re here to fetch you home. We—that is—I don’t want you to live away from us.”
“Neither do I,” Falcon said around a mouthful of cured pig.
“You’re coming home and that’s that.” Wyatt went back to chewing. Maybe he’d come in scowling because he blamed her that he was hungry.
“We want you out at the RHR and we feel like…like…” Kevin gave Wyatt a desperate glance.
Molly knew it might be best to have this talk strictly between Kevin and her. No one else needed to hear their business.
Parson Brownley said, “Sometimes when there is strife in a family, it can help to talk about it with another person present. A parson.”
“And his wife.” Ida Brownley gave Molly a pointed look. Neither one of them were budging. Almost like they knew she wanted them to leave.
“I have a job. I’m sure you were going to ask soon.”
“We heard the last school marm got hitched.” Falcon kept chomping away. “But we can’t spare you. You’re keeping us alive and you’re the best cook I ever heard tell of, and that’s sayin’ something because my first wife Patsy was a wonder with ’possum stew.”
Molly had never eaten ’possum, nor did she want to. But she tried to keep the disgust off her face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Win is a good cook and Cheyenne, well, she works so hard outside it stands to reason she wouldn’t have developed cooking skills, but you won’t starve.”
“No,” Falcon said, grinning. “But we might want to.”
Ida Brownley snatched up her pretty white cloth napkin and used it to cover her face. She tried to make it sound like she was coughing, but Molly was sure the woman was laughing.
“She’s your wife.” The parson was rubbing his mouth rather furiously. “You might want to be more positive in your—your—comments about her cooking.”
“She’s the best wife a man ever had.” For the first time Falcon seemed upset. “Whether she’s a cook or not ain’t nuthin’ that I’d ever judge her on.”
The parson nodded and Kevin went on. “We know you got hired, because we asked around town while we were looking for you, and we also learned that school doesn’t start until next Monday.”
“Looked high and low. Figured you’d been taken away by some outlaw.” Wyatt sounded grim.
“So please, Molly, please—” Kevin drew the word out for several seconds, “come home with us. We’d like your company until you start school.”
“We honestly want you back full time,” Falcon said. “Can you make that custard again tomorrow?”
Molly balled up her napkin but refrained from throwing it at him. Falcon smirked, almost like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Wyatt added, “Your brother is asking nice, but you are going home right now.”
“I don’t like seeing you all pressuring her.” Mrs. Brownley lost all trace of humor.
Wyatt looked at Mrs. Brownley. “We all feel mighty bad that we weren’t kind enough to her that now she wants to leave us. It’s me especially. I’ve been ailin’ and all the work doctoring me fell to her.”
He looked across the table at Molly. “Did I ever thank you?”
Molly heard the guilt in his voice. Saw the sincerity in his eyes. She felt herself weakening, blast it all.
“I’ve been so impatient to be well, I’m sure I snapped and snarled like a cur dog, by way of letting you know you saved my life.”
Kevin, next to her, rested one of his strong hands on her back.
Wyatt went on, “Your knowledge and care are a miracle straight from God. I feel like the worse kind of sinner to have done something to drive you away.”
To say he hadn’t driven her away, would make Kevin blame himself. To say he had driven her away, would make Wyatt feel awful. Falcon just kept chewing, eating fast as if he knew they’d have to leave soon and wanted to fill his belly.
He swallowed, grinned and said, “Don’t blame me. I didn’t do nothing wrong.”
Molly narrowed her eyes and uncharitably wished he’d choke on a turnip.
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Love on the Range
Book #3 of Brothers in Arms
While his brothers and their new wives search for who shot him, Wyatt Hunt is temporarily bedridden and completely miserable. Somehow Molly Garner’s limited skills have made her the most qualified in their circle to care for Wyatt. But by the time he’s healed, she’s fed up with him and the whole ungrateful family. For even worse than his grumpiness were the few unguarded moments when he pulled at her heartstrings, and she has been long determined to never repeat her mother’s mistakes.
When alternate plans of finding her own independent life fall through, Molly volunteers to work for the Pinkertons and help investigate nearby ranch owner Oliver Hawkins. She signs on to be his housekeeper, hoping to find clues to prove his nefarious, and possibly murderous, past. Wyatt refuses to let her risk it alone and offers to act as Hawkins’s new foreman.
But when another Pinkerton agent gets shot, they realize Hawkins isn’t the only danger. The Hunt brothers will have to band together to face all the troubles of life and love that suddenly surround them.