After spending her formative years on a farm in Eastern Oregon, hopeless romantic Shanna Hatfield turns her rural experiences into sweet historical and contemporary romances filled with sarcasm, humor, and hunky western heroes.
When this USA Today bestselling author isn’t writing or covertly hiding decadent chocolate from the other occupants of her home, Shanna hangs out with her beloved husband, Captain Cavedweller.
I’ve spent many hours the last few weeks combing through digital editions of old newspapers from Pendleton, Oregon.
As I was browsing through the news on one front page, a headline caught my eye.
Buzz Wagon Proves Too Much for Ted
The first thought that popped into my head was “what’s a buzz wagon?” The second was “who’s Ted?”
If, like me, you haven’t been exposed to the early 20th century slang term, a buzz wagon is what some people used to refer to an automobile. (Presumably from the noise emitted from those early vehicles.)
On a lovely June day in 1912, a cowboy named Ted and another cowpuncher brought 300 head of horses to Pendleton to sell.
According to the newspaper, Ted could ride anything that had two ears and a tail, but the “golderned buzz wagon” was too much for the buckaroo to handle.
While they waited around town the evening before they were to set to sell the horses, Ted and his fellow cowpuncher wandered down to the Pendleton Round-Up grounds to see what amusements they might find.
What they found was an automobile left sitting in the arena, unattended, while members of the Elks club tried out teams for an upcoming chariot race (wouldn’t that be fun to see?).
The two cowboys thought the seats of the auto looked inviting, so they slid in to watch the proceedings. After a while, Ted landed on the brilliant idea of taking the auto for a spin. Although he’d never been in an automobile before, let alone drove one, he asked his friend to get out and give the car a crank to start it.
The car started but ol’ cowboy Ted found he couldn’t control the “red devil” as it traveled across the track of the arena. He whipped the wheel one way then the other, touched every button and pulled every lever to no avail. The auto stopped when he bashed into a pole at full speed.
When the owner of the car arrived on the scene, Ted offered to buy the man a new automobile. The owner thought he could have the auto repaired and they settled on $25 payment.
Ted declared he was through with man’s inventions, much preferring a bucking horse than the unpredictability of a “buzz wagon.”
To find out more about the happenings in Pendleton during 1912, be sure to attend the Petticoat Ballon April 12 on Facebook! The fun begins at 10 a.m. (Pacific Time) and runs until 2 p.m. Guest authors, games, giveaways, and details about my latest Pendleton Petticoats book, Quinn, will be shared!
It’s Wednesday, which is always a nice day to mark the half-way point through the work week. It also happens to be Ash Wednesday.
The big event today that most people are celebrating, though, is Valentine’s Day.
A day full of romance and roses, candy hearts and sweethearts.
And of all the quotes about Valentine’s Day, my favorite is this:
“I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day.
When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind
is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.”
Today also happens to be my home state’s birthday.
On February 14, 1859, Oregon was officially admitted to the union as a state.
Oregon’s story started with Spanish and French exploration in the 17th and 18th centuries. In the early 1800s, Oregon was mapped by the Lewis and Clark expedition in their search for the Northwest Passage, opening a route for further exploration.
Merchants, traders and trappers were among the first people to forge a path across the Continental Divide on their way to Oregon territory. Missionaries are credited, through, with blazing the Oregon Trail. The first missionary group made their way west in the early 1830s.
Between 1840 and 1860, thousands of pioneers made the grueling overland trek of more than 2,000 miles. The U.S. began joint settlement of the area with the United Kingdom. In 1846, the border between U.S. and British territory was formally established at the 49th parallel. The part of the territory that was given to Britain would ultimately become part of Canada.
More than 50,000 people called Oregon home by 1857. Only white men were allowed to vote and they petitioned for statehood. The U.S. Senate began to consider Oregon statehood in May 1858 amid a split of the Democratic Party over slavery and ongoing controversy over admitting Kansas to the union. Oregon’s bid added complications to the ongoing debate. Southerners, such as Senator Jefferson Davis, opposed the admission of any more northern states, concerned about keeping a political balance. Others looked at specific issues such as the valid question of whether Oregon had a large enough population to qualify for statehood.
The final vote on the Oregon admission bill in the U.S. House of Representatives was delayed until February 1859, after languishing in the committee on territories for over six months. When votes were tallied on Feb. 12, they showed a narrow 114 to 103 victory for statehood. Two days later the president signed the bill and Oregon officially became the 33rd state in the union.
Here are some State of Oregon facts:
Date of Statehood: February 14, 1859
Population: 4,093,000 (2016 census)
Size: 98,379 square miles
Nickname: Beaver State
Motto: She Flies With Her Own Wings
Tree: Douglas Fir
Flower: Oregon Grape
Bird: Western Meadowlark
Some other fun details about the state include the fact there is no state sales tax. Oregon is the 10th largest state in the union (land wise) and is bordered by Washington, Idaho, Nevada, California, and the Pacific Ocean.
The state of Oregon offers great diversity in the landscapes. From the rugged coast and lush green forests on the west side of the state to the high desert and rolling hills of wheat on the east, Oregon offers an example of nearly every geographic terrain on the planet within its borders.
*Oregon is home to Crater Lake, the deepest lake in the United States.
*You’ll also find Hells Canyon in the northeast corner of the state, the deepest river-carved gorge in North America. At 7,913 feet, it’s deeper than the Grand Canyon.
*The John Day Fossil Beds National Monument is one of the richest fossil sites in the world.
*The largest concentration of wintering bald eagles can be found in the Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuge Complex.
*The highest elevation point is Mt. Hood at 11,239 feet.
*There are more than 6,000 lakes and 112,000 miles of rivers and streams.
*Nearly half of Oregon’s total land area is forested – close to 30 million acres.
History and Heritage
Although Oregon’s history may seem relatively new compared to other parts of the country, it has 14 National Historic Districts and four National Historic Trails, including the Oregon Trail (with ruts still visible in some areas).
*The first scenic highway in the U.S. (and also a historical landmark) is the Historic Columbia River Highway.
*Nine historic lighthouses and one light ship dot the Oregon Coast.
Due to an ice storm that knocked our power out for a day and a half right before New Year’s Eve, I had plenty of time on my hands to do some much needed cleaning and sorting in my cupboards and closets.
As I dug through one deep drawer where I store assorted blankets, I happened upon a well-loved quilt.
My mama helped me make it one cold, snowy January when I was heading off to begin my college internship 1,100 miles away. The fabric used in the nine-patch quilt came from scraps saved from a variety of places, but all connected to sweet memories. When I settled into my tiny apartment, all alone in that big city, I curled up under the quilt and found comfort in the lovingly-made stitches. The quilt became a reminder of home, of family, of the my ties to the past. Even after I married Captain Cavedweller, the quilt came along. It was often the covering I reached for when I needed a bit of comfort when I once again found myself all alone while he worked nights.
I took the quilt out of the drawer and spent a powerless afternoon cuddled beneath the warmth of it while the joy of remembering sweet times from years ago flooded through me.
Quilts have always been important to me because they’ve always been gifts made with incredible love.
My Grandma Ila made this quilt for me when I was a little girl. It graced my little twin-sized bed in my very pink bedroom for years and years. The pattern is Parasol Lady.
CC’s grandmother made this quilt for us one year for Christmas. She knew how much I love roses and surprised us with this beautiful cross-stitched quilt. Grandma is no longer with us, but the love she put into this quilt will last forever.
This is the quilt Grandma Ila made as our wedding gift. She let me pick the pattern and the colors then she and my mom pieced and quilted it. There was a lot of piecing and a lot of quilting and a lot of love that went into this Rose of Sharon variation quilt.
My Grandma Elsie started this Tulip Basket quilt for my mom back when she was a teen. Mom told Grandma she didn’t like the colors, so Grandma never finished the quilt. One day when I was in high school, we were at Grandma’s helping her clean and found a bag with the quilt blocks. Grandma gave them to me, so Mom put the top together and quilted it. When she completed it, she couldn’t remember why she thought it was ugly in the first place.
The blocks for this quilt came from CC’s Grandma Nell. Her mother made the squares back in the early 1900s. No one ever finished the quilt. She gave them to me and when we needed one more block to make the quilt work, Mom did the one with the pink roses (pictured top left of the above photo). Mom sewed the top, then did all the quilting. I should mention that Mom and Grandma did their quilting by hand. No fancy machines for them. I remember seeing a quilt frame stretched across our entire living room on many occasions. In later years, Mom would quilt using a big hoop instead of the frame.
Unfortunately, with all the talented quilters I’ve known, the gene and talent completely escaped me. I can sew – but quilting is beyond my patience and skill. That doesn’t, however, keep me from having one (or three) storage tubs full of fabric I hope to someday make into quilts. I’ll just have to find someone to do the quilting.
I enjoy looking at the quilts and thinking of all the love, detail and skill that went into making them.
Last year, I participated in a series of books that featured quilts. It was a lot of fun for me because it brought to mind all the quilts I watched my grandmas and mom make over the years.
The series, Grandma’s Wedding Quilts (which includes a book by fellow Filly Kathryn Albright!), features all sweet novellas. Grandma Mary’s traditional gift to each of her grandchildren is a hand-pieced and hand-stitched quilt, woven with memories, wisdom, and a family legacy of enduring love.
My contribution to the set, Tad’s Treasure, is the final book in the series.
Tad Palmer makes a promise to his dying friend to watch over the man’s wife and child. Years later, he continues to keep an eye on Posey Jacobs and her precocious little boy. The only problem is that he’s not sure his heart can withstand the vow he made when he falls in love with the widow and her son.
Posey Jacobs misses her beloved husband, but her wrenching grief has given way to hope for the future as she finds herself falling deeper and deeper in love with Tad Palmer. However, the infuriating man doesn’t seem to notice her interest and treats her as he would his sister.
Throw in a goat who thinks she’s a dog, a town full of quirky characters, and this widow has her work cut out for her if she wants one handsome cowboy to give her his heart.
To enter for a chance to win an autographed copy of Tad’s Treasure, just answer this question:
What’s your favorite way to stay warm on a cold winter day?
Wishing you call comfort and joy throughout this new year!
The week between Christmas and New Year’s Day was one I looked forward to with great anticipation each year during my childhood.
It wasn’t just the break from school that made the week fun (although I so enjoyed the freedom of not being at school or being plagued with mountains of homework).
If there was more than an inch of snow on the ground (which was typically the case on our Eastern Oregon farm), it meant unlimited outdoor entertainment. We went sledding off the hill right outside our back door, skating on the pond, snowmobiling across the sagebrush on the other side of the canal, and we even built snow forts a time or two.
Because my parents had a big house with ample room for parking, we almost always hosted Christmas for our extended family. My mom’s family and dad’s family took turns coming.
One year in particular I remember well because Mom’s family had all come for Christmas. We barely had a dusting of snow on the ground, so we spent most of the day inside with nothing to do but play with new toys, eat yummy food, and wish it would snow.
But then, in that magical week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, it snowed, and snowed. And then snowed some more. In an impromptu effort to wring every bit of fun we could from the holiday season, Daddy invited his family to come over for New Year’s Day.
Mom made a huge pot of chili and enough cinnamon rolls to feed a small army. My aunts provided salads and sides along with oodles of desserts. Family began arriving late morning and we spent the rest of the day sledding, skating, and having a wonderful time. The cold and darkness didn’t even put an end to our fun. After warming up with chili and hot chocolate, some of my hardier cousins trouped back outside to sled in the dark.
I’ll never forget that special New Year’s Day or how much fun we had.
Do you have any special New Year’s Day memories from your childhood
(or maybe from a holiday with your children?)
One lucky commenter will receive their choice of a digital copy of any one of my books.
Wishing you all a safe, peaceful, joyous New Year’s Day and a fabulous 2018!
Christmas has always been such a beautiful, blessed, wonderful season to me.
A tradition that my mom taught me, one I still carry on, is to bake goodies, infused with love, and share with family and friends.
One year, I spent hours and hours making elaborately frosted sugar cookies. In particular, I recall a little rocking horse that I’d painstakingly decorated with tiny little reins and a saddle accented with mini holly and berries made of icing.
Then my dad and brothers came in for supper and made short work of my creations!
I still make sugar cookies (a recipe I spent years experimenting with until I got it just right), although I don’t spend hours decorating them like I used to.
I also love to make cinnamon rolls and share them with our neighbors when the rolls are warm from the oven and icing is melting into sweet pools all around them.
I have an overflowing recipe box with all the traditional sweets I typically make during the holidays.
But while I was researching details for my latest release, I found so many more recipes I’d love to try.
The heroine in the story is a Swedish baker. My goodness! I think I gained five pounds (or ten) just writing about all the delightful pastries and goodies she created in her bakery.
Born to an outlaw father and a shrewish mother, Fred Decker feels obligated to atone for the past without much hope for his future. If he possessed a lick of sense, he’d pack up and leave the town where he was born and raised, but something… someone… unknowingly holds him there. Captivated by Hardman’s beautiful baker, Fred fights the undeniable attraction. He buries himself in his work, refusing to let his heart dream.
Elsa Lindstrom adores the life she’s carved out for herself in a small Eastern Oregon town. She and her twin brother, Ethan, run their own bakery where she delights in creating delicious treats. Then Ethan comes home unexpectedly married, the drunks in town mistakenly identify her as a missing harlot, and a mishap in the bakery leaves her at the mercy of the most gossiped-about man in Hardman.
Mix in the arrival of three fairy-like aunts, blend with a criminal bent on dastardly schemes, and sprinkle in a hidden cache of gold for a sweet Victorian romance brimming with laughter and heartwarming holiday cheer.
“Well…” Fred gave her an odd look as he stood in the doorway with autumn sunshine spilling all around him. “There are two other things I’d like.”
“Two?” Elsa asked, wiping her hands on her apron and facing him. “What might those two things be?” She anticipated him asking for a batch of rolls or perhaps a chocolate cake.
“My first request is simple. Please call me Fred. I’d like to think, after all this, we’re friends and all my friends call me Fred.”
Elsa nodded in agreement. “We are friends, Mr. Deck… er, I mean Fred. If you want me to call you Fred then you best refer to me as Elsa.”
The pleased grin on his face broadened. “Very well, Elsa.”
Her knees wobbled at the sound of his deep voice saying her name, but she resisted the urge to grip the counter for support. “You said there were two things you wanted, in addition to cookies. What is the second?”
“It’s a tiny little thing really,” Fred said, tightly gripping his hat in both hands.
“A tiny little thing? Then I shall take great honor in bestowing whatever it is.” Her gaze roved over the kitchen, trying to imagine what in the world Fred could want. She kept a jar full of assorted candy. Sometimes, she used the sweets to decorate cakes and cookies. Perhaps he wanted one. “A piece of candy?” she asked.
Fred shook his head. “No, Elsa. It’s sweeter than candy and far, far better.”
Intrigued, she took a step closer to him. “What is it?”
He waggled his index finger back and forth, indicating she should step closer. When she stood so her skirts brushed against the toes of his boots, he tapped his cheek with the same finger. “A little sugar right here would be even better than ten batches of cookies.”
~ Giveaway ~
Make sure you enter this drawing for a chance to win a mystery box of Christmas goodies!
Wishing you all a bright, beautiful, holiday season!
What’s one thing do you always look forward to baking or eating each Christmas?
What do a cowboy, a snowstorm, and a delayed flight have in common?
Pour yourself a cup of tea, take a moment to relax, and I’ll share a little story with you…
Picture a bitterly cold December wind blowing snow so hard you can barely see your hand in front of your face let alone far enough to get in a vehicle and drive somewhere.
This was the scene my husband (better known as Captain Cavedweller) and I encountered one December day as we prepared to leave on a much-needed vacation. We’d been planning to drive across the state to our destination, but with the blizzard-like conditions, we couldn’t see any wisdom in traveling in the horrible weather.
Rather than stay home, though, I convinced CC to go to Las Vegas to the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo. We’d always wanted to go and had just never got around to it. Since flying somewhere was the only way we were leaving town, it made perfect sense to switch our plans and take the impromptu trip.
As we arrived at the airport the next day, we noticed more cowboy hats in the crowd than just CC’s. And when we landed in Las Vegas, there were cowboy hats (and cowboys) everywhere! Each December, the city of Las Vegas takes on a country vibe as the rodeo comes to town, bringing with it hundreds of vendors, thousands of spectators, and a whole lot of fun.
On the return trip home, we arrived at the airport and discovered our flight was delayed. Gradually, we made our way through a sea of cowboy hats to our gate. While CC read the newspaper and impatiently jiggled his boot-covered foot , I observed those milling around. As I watched cowboys pass by, some in a rush, others walking with a distinctive swagger, my ever-active imagination began to take over.
Since so many of the cowboys who compete professionally spend a good deal of time traveling, I began to wonder how many of them flew from one rodeo to the next. If they were flying, it seemed like a strong possibility that they might meet a girl at an airport who turned their head.
I began jotting down notes for a story idea and by the time we reached home, The Christmas Cowboy (Rodeo Romance, Book 1) was born.
The fifth book in the Rodeo Romance series, Chasing Christmas, released last week. Each book in this series features characters tied to the rodeo (a saddle bronc rider, a steer wrestler, a rodeo photographer, a stock contractor, a barrelman, and now a bullrider). All of them are sweet romances full of laughter and heartwarming holiday cheer (and cowboys, did I mention cowboys?).
But more than the fun stories and hunky cowboys, this series set me down the path of helping the Justin Cowboy Crisis Fund.
While I was writing , I included a scene where the hero is hurt at a rodeo. I began to wonder exactly how much medical attention a cowboy could receive at a rodeo and how bad injuries would have to be before he was taken to the hospital.
I reached out to an amazing organization — the Justin Sportsmedicine Team. In 1980, two gentlemen developed the concept of a mobile sports medicine system that would provide medical support services to professional rodeo athletes. Today, the Justin Mobile Sportsmedicine Centers can be seen at arenas across the country. Rodeo athletes who are injured while competing are assured of receiving immediate and expert care through these centers.
The program director kindly (and patiently, so patiently) answered my many questions. Through him, I learned about a program called the Justin Cowboy Crisis Fund.
Rodeo athletes say it isn’t a matter of if they get hurt, but when. So when the inevitable happens and they sustain catastrophic injuries that prevent them from competing for an extended time (leaving them without a paycheck), the JCCF steps in and provides much-needed assistance.
After learning about the organization and impressed by how helpful and kind those I’d spoke with had been, I decided to donate to the cause.
This is the fourth year for my Read a Book, Help a Cowboy campaign. Now through December 24, I donate ten percent of my book sale proceeds to the Justin Cowboy Crisis Fund.
So if you’re thinking about holiday gifts, I hope you’ll think about giving a book! You can find my releases in digital, paperback, and audio formats, including .
~ GIVEAWAY! ~
For a chance to win a digital copy of The Christmas Cowboy and Chasing Christmas, answer this question: