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Coming face-to-face with an old enemy turned Hollywood superstar could cost Lisa Mills everything, including her heart…
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FACEBOOK Party with giveaways and prizes.
Hello, E.E.Burke here.
The peaceful Kansas prairie made famous by Laura Ingalls Wilder saw a series of murders in the mid-nineteenth century that rival any killing spree since for pure viciousness.
Here are the facts, such as can be determined…
Between 1871 and early 1873, more than a dozen men traveling through southeastern Kansas vanished without a trace. At that time, the area was still considered a wild frontier, plagued by outlaws and unhappy Natives. The missing men were presumed victims of one or other since they’d last been seen headed west on the Osage Trail.
The first few disappearances didn’t raise an alarm, as it wasn’t all that uncommon for some tragedy to befall a lone traveler. However, as time passed and the number of disappearances increased, surrounding communities became alarmed.
One of the missing men, Dr. William York, was related to a well-known Kansas senator and a wartime hero, who went to search for their missing brother. The colonel discovered that the doctor had stopped at a store and wayside inn offering meals and a “safe” resting place for travelers headed west.
A German immigrant, John Bender, and his wife, along with a grown daughter and son ran the inn. Pa Bender was a hulking man, over six feet tall with piercing black eyes under bushy eyebrows. He and Ma, a heavyset, unfriendly matron, spoke with such guttural accents few could understand them.
In contrast, John Bender Jr. was slender and attractive, and spoke English fluently with a slight German accent. However, he was prone to laughing aimlessly, which led many in the neighboring community to consider him a half-wit.
Kate was the friendliest of the bunch. She spoke good English and had cultivated social skills. The petite auburn-haired beauty was a self-proclaimed healer and psychic. She gave lectures on spiritualism and conducted séances. In some of her lectures, she advocated free love and justification for murder. Although her friendly manner and social skills earned her popularity (especially with men), her views weren’t so popular. Some of the locals began to call her “satanic.”
By the time Dr. York’s brother showed up at the Bender’s doorstep, rumors were swirling. Ma admitted the doctor had stopped there for dinner, but indicated he’d left and proposed he’d run into problems with Indians. Kate even offered to conduct a séance to help him. The remaining York brothers were suspicious, but they had no proof of the Benders’ wrongdoing.
The Osage Township called a community meeting at a schoolhouse, to discuss the troubling situation and agreed to search farms and homes in the area. The two Bender men attended that meeting.
Several days later, their inn was found abandoned. Upon searching, authorities found the cabin empty of food, clothing and personal possessions. They were also met with a terrible smell. A trap door was discovered, and beneath the cabin, in a six-foot deep cellar, they found the source of the stench—clotted blood.
A frantic search began. The search party lifted the house off its moorings and tore into the cellar, but didn’t find bodies there. Moving into the field and orchard, they noticed the site of a freshly stirred depression and found the first body—Dr. William York—buried head downward with his feet barely covered. His skull had been crushed and his throat cut from ear to ear.
The digging continued and nine more bodies were uncovered, along with dismembered body parts. All of the men had their skulls bashed in and their throats slit. The corpses of a man and a little girl were found together, and it appeared she might’ve been buried alive. Ironically, it was the disappearance of this father and daughter that had sent the doctor off on his quest. The site was christened “Hell’s Half-Acre.”
Eventually, it even got its own historical marker!
Bit by bit, the story was pieced together into an awful picture of what happened to these hapless travelers. Visitors were invited in and seated at a table with their backs to a large wagon canvas, separating the public area from the family’s private quarters.
Kate would charm the men, flirting or revealing her psychic “gifts.” Pa Bender, hiding behind the canvas, would strike the distracted guest with a large hammer, bashing his skull. The women would rifle the body for money, then push the hapless fellow through the trap door into the cellar, where Kate or her mother would slit his throat.
During the night, the victim would be buried in the garden or orchard behind the house. Neighbors reported having seen the old man out plowing by moonlight, but attributed it to his eccentricities.
By the time the grisly murders were discovered, the Benders had skedaddled. Their abandoned wagon was found in a nearby community. Senator York offered a $1,000 reward for their capture and the governor of Kansas doubled it. Word of the gruesome murders spread fast and thousands of people flocked to the site, including newspaper reporters from as far away as Chicago. The visitors removed souvenirs, including bricks from the bloody cellar and even boards from the cabin’s walls. Pretty soon, nothing was left but the hole where the basement had been.
As for what happened to the Benders, that is the stuff of legend.
The author, Laura Ingalls Wilder, referenced the murders in speeches she made over the years. She said she had at one time visited the inn, and her father, “Pa Ingalls” had participated in the vigilante hunt for the killers. Reportedly he told her, “They will never be found.” Frontier justice may have been served, but the records don’t reveal the fate of the serial killers.
Later, curiosity seekers visiting the site would report seeing apparitions they surmised were the ghosts of victims, seeking revenge. Some thought it might be Kate’s ghost, doomed to wander the place where she’d committed the atrocities.
This grisly crime is woven into my latest novel, A Dangerous Passion, as are other historical events in Kansas and railroad history. For more information about the book and series, check out my website at www.eeburke.com. Also, I’m running a contest for two free e-books from my Steam series. Check out the box at the bottom of this post to enter!
Can a hero lurk in the heart of a villain?
Life in a small New England village is too quiet, too ordinary for a free spirit like Lucy Forbes. When her father lands a job out West, she packs her books and her dreams and eagerly sets off to pursue the kind of grand adventures she longs to experience and write about. The moment she steps off the train, she’s thrust into the gritty reality of an untamed frontier—and into the arms of a scoundrel.
Henry Stevens, the ruthless railroad executive her father has been sent to investigate, is as passionate as he is ambitious. Brave and charming, as well as clever, and possessed of a sharp wit. He is, in fact, the most fascinating man Lucy has ever met. However, his opponents are vanishing, and strangers are shooting at him. Fearing for her father’s life, Lucy resolves to unmask the secretive Mr. Stevens and expose a villain. What she doesn’t expect to find is a hero.
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BIO:
E.E. Burke writes sexy, suspenseful historical romance set in the American west. Her latest series, Steam! Romance and Rails, includes Passion’s Prize, Her Bodyguard and A Dangerous Passion. Her writing has earned accolades in regional and national contests, including the prestigious Golden Heart®.
Over the years, she’s been a disc jockey, a journalist and an advertising executive, before finally getting around to pursuing her dream of writing novels. Her stories are as deeply rooted in American soil as her family, which she can trace back to the earliest colonists and through both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. She lives in Kansas City with her husband and three daughters, the greatest inspiration of all.
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Read all the way through this post for information on a giveaway
Hello, Julie Lence here. I remember many childhood Sunday afternoons watching John Wayne battle outlaws and Indians on the television screen. Most often, his character lived on a sprawling ranch. Sometimes he doled out his own form of justice from the saddle or a jail cell. Confidant and with a swagger in his step, it’s because of him I have a deep love for anything western. But growing up in upstate New York didn’t provide a lot of opportunity to learn about the cowboy way of life. A friend of the family owned horses. His daughters rode in local parades and competed in rodeo-type events at local fairs, but that’s the closest I came to anything western. Then, several years later, the hubby was assigned to Cheyenne Mountain Air Station in Colorado and I found myself in 7th Heaven!
From Pikes Peak to mining for gold in Cripple Creek to ranches outfitted with cowboys, Colorado is not only rich in history, the state has some of the most breathtaking views. More importantly, Colorado has given me something else; plenty of stores and antique shops to browse. Until the hubby and I came west, I always had this restless feeling 
when it came to decorating my home. Something was missing. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I had a nice painting of a cabin situated beneath the mountains. I had color schemes and knick-knacks, but something wasn’t quite right. The things I had didn’t define me, until I stepped foot in Old Colorado City and discovered exactly what I had been missing—everything to do with horses and the west.
It took several years of scouring and shopping, but today I have western prints, replicas of stagecoaches and covered wagons, pottery, blankets and porcelain horses. Sage grows wild in my back yard. Wagon wheels adorn the four corners and the greeting sign near my door is of a cowboy leading a packhorse through the desert. The only thing I lack and really want, and don’t know what the heck I would do with, is a real wagon to put in the yard. Every time I see one, I joke with the hubby to hitch it to the back of the truck and bring it home. Most likely, if he did, the squirrels would build a home for themselves in the bed. But hey, a girl can dream.
As I mentioned, Colorado houses many stores and quaint shops for me to find my next treasure. We also have several western themed museums. Some are state run and some privately run. One such ‘touristy’ museum isn’t too far from me. I like to visit when I can because this museum houses two of the things I hold dear from the old west.
Potbellied Stoves— Benjamin Franklin is credited with inventing the pot belly stove. A cute appliance used to heat a room, the pot belly stove is made from cast iron and has a bulge in the middle, hence the name. The stove was mainly found in the mercantile or school house, and later on train cars. Some potbellies were equipped with a shelf to boil a pot of coffee or to cook a pot of stew. Franklin is also credited with inventing a large cast iron box that was set on top of the hearth and used for cooking. If I could, I’d fill the house with several of them. Not for the heat they provided, but to add to my collection of all things western.
Stagecoaches—The first of the Concord stagecoaches was built in 1827 by the Abbot 
Downing Company and weighed more than 2,000 pounds. The Concord had a reputation for being comfortable and sturdy. Each coach built was given a number by the Abbot Downing Company, and used leather strap braces beneath the coach instead of a spring suspension to create a swinging motion verses a jostling, up-and-down motion. At the front and back of the coach, leather boots held luggage and mail. The top of the stage also held luggage, and more than a dozen people if needed. The inside bore three seats of leather and could hold up to nine passengers. Those who sat on the middle seat had no back support and had to hold onto leather straps suspended from the ceiling. Curtains at the windows were also fashioned from leather and rolled up and down.
Both the potbellied stove and the stagecoach are featured in my work, Debra’s Bandit. Debra manages Revolving Point’s mercantile. She uses the potbellied stove daily to provide coffee and tea for her customers while they shop or spend a few extra minutes chatting with her. The stagecoach brings newcomers to the fire-stricken city weekly. One new arrival in particular has Gage running for cover every time he encounters the husband-hunting Jessie Kane. No way in hell is he going to end up with her noose around his neck.
Excerpt from Debra’s Bandit:
With the icy sensations continuing to prick the back of his neck, Gage ushered Jessie across the thoroughfare and up the steps to the boardwalk.
“So this is Revolving Point,” she said, looking around at the empty lots lining both sides of the street. “It’s not much.”
“Had more businesses last year. Saloons. A couple of hotels. The fire burned them to the ground.” He assessed the street ahead of them. Deserted, except for Earl at the far end of town. He’d brought the stage to a halt in front of the livery and now climbed down from the driver’s box. “Folks like it this way. Quiet.”
“You don’t?” She arched a brow.
“Got a bed to sleep in and food to eat.” And Debra to fuss over me. His gut wrenched at that and he turned his attention to the plate glass window they passed—Miller’s. He peered over the swinging doors and saw the doves still sat at tables talking. He’d spent his first night in town with Trudy seeing to a need. Then he’d learned Debra was here and had ceased any further involvement with Miller’s girls.
Debra won’t be fussing over me much longer. A week at most. Then he wouldn’t see her again for a long time.
“Mayor Randall told me about the fire in the wire he sent me. You must be one of the people he mentioned who didn’t flee, who stayed behind to save your home and help rebuild.” Jessie’s comment intruded on his thoughts as they stepped off the boardwalk and crossed the intersection.
“Irishmen are doing most of the rebuilding.” He’d learned long ago never to reveal anything about himself to a stranger. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pry into someone else’s affairs. Man or woman, he preferred to know about those who crossed his path. Especially when someone raised his suspicions as Jessie’s smile had outside the telegraph and mail. Even now, calculation still lingered in her eyes, and with no ring on her finger, he concluded she searched for a husband. “Where are you from?”
“Virginia.”
“You’re a long way from home.” Gage ushered her up the steps to the next boardwalk, the sound of voices and a fiddle playing wafting toward him from the eatery at the next intersection. “What do your folks think about you coming all this way by yourself?”
“They’re dead. There’s no one but me.” She looked up at him, her eyes soft. “I hope to rectify that with this job the mayor has given me. I want a home of my own. I couldn’t hold onto Pa’s farm. The work and taxes were too much. If I save the money I earn, I can hire those Irishmen you mentioned to build something for me here in town.”
And find someone else for your husband while they do
Debra’s Bandit is available in both print and e-book format. You can order your very own copy from Amazon by clicking on the book cover image above.
Thank you, fillies, for having me as a guest on your blog today. It is always a pleasure to visit with you and your readers. As an added bonus for your readers visiting with me today, I am giving away three e-book copies of Debra’s Bandit.
Julie
ks to everyone who stopped in and left a comment on my Burpee’s Seed post – it was fun reading about many of your experiences with gardening. I tossed all the names in a hat and drew out the name of the winner, which is
Hi, Winnie Griggs here. With the start of the new year I’ve been in a cleaning out and de-cluttering mood. And I’ve been surprised by the number of things I’ve come across that I’d forgotten I had. One of the items is a pretty little tray, with a picture on front that is a reproduction of a picture that was featured in a 1913 Burpee seed catalog. Which got me to wondering, since I know Burpee Seeds are still around, just how long the Burpee Seed Company has been in business. Which naturally gave me an excellent excuse to stop cleaning out my spare room and start in on a little research.
W. Atlee Burpee was born in 1858 into an established Philadelphia family that was descended from French Canadian Huguenots. Both his father and grandfather were physicians and it was expected that Atlee would follow in their footsteps. But Atlee himself had different ideas.
From an early age he had an interest in animals and plants. He started with poultry 
breeding (chickens, geese, turkeys) but it wasn’t long before he was also working with livestock, dogs and plants. Atlee was fascinated with the still-new and little-respected science of genetics. A man who loved research, Atlee conducted his own experiments, and met with a great deal of success. He corresponded with poultry experts across the world and contributed articles to poultry journals as well.
In 1876, when Atlee was eighteen, he took a loan of $1000, most of which was provided by his mother, and started a mail-order chicken business out of the family home. Because of the success of his breeding experiments and the numerous articles he’d written, many poultry farmers already knew his name and expertise. His business became so successful that he was soon able to open a poultry and feed store in Philadelphia. Because of a growing demand from his customer for quality vegetable seed, by 1878 Burpee had formed W. Atlee Burpee & Company.
But Atlee had a near-obsession with innovation and improvement. And he had the intellect and skills to follow through on this keen interest. In 1877 he was able to introduce a new variety of cabbage he called Surehead, in 1881 he produced an improved carrot, in 1884 it was both an improved celery and a better pepper and in 1887 he produced an improved radish..
I
n 1888 the company established Foodhook Farms in Doylston, PA to test new flowers and vegetables. This was before the US government had a seed testing or research station of their on.
Atlee traveled extensively through Europe and the US every summer. And much of his travel time was spent visiting farms. When he found flowers or vegetables he thought of as exceptional, he would ship these to Fordhook Farms where they could be tested and crossed with other seed stock to produce hybrids – in fact Foodhook Farms was on the leading edge of this type of seed production.
Although garden seed production became the company’s primary business, Atlee and his successors never forgot the company’s beginnings and it wasn’t until 1940 that live poultry disappeared entirely from the Burpee catalog.
At the time W. Atlee Burpee died in 1915, the company he founded was the largest seed company in the world and was receiving approximately 10,000 orders a day. Burpee’s employed 300 people and was sending out a million catalogs a year.
Atlee was succeeded as head of the firm by his 22 year old son David. It was shortly after David took over the company that World War I began taking a toll on seed production in Europe which pushed America to the forefront of world seed production. David Burpee was one of the forces behind the ‘War Gardens’ movement of WW I. This is what he had to say about it:
Food will win the war , we were told by Washington and I decided the best way I could help our country’s war effort was by showing people how to grow a good share of their food right in their own back yards. To dramatize this, I set up what we called War Gardens in a number of cities. The biggest attention-getter was the one in New York. It was in Union Square, directly opposite an imitation battleship bristling with wooden guns aimed at the tomatoes and cabbages. It was a huge success. I would guess that that garden alone must have started thousands of people gardening.
So, do you have any experience with Burpee’s seeds or their catalog? And was any of this information a surprise to you.
And since, as I said, I’m trying to de-clutter my home, but would like to give some of my ‘treasures’ to folks who will appreciate them, I’m going to give the tray pictured here to one of today’s commenters.
What would you do if you entered a restaurant and found the ceiling crawling with spiders?
One thing I like about reading historical romance is learning real history along with a great story. While doing research for my newest book I came across this “fun” fact that I just had to include in The Gunslinger and the Heiress.
Tillman Augustus Burnes, an Irishman known for his larger-than-life personality, grew up in San Francisco. There he came to appreciate the infamous Cobweb Palace at the end of Meiggs’ Wharf where spiders had transformed the saloon with swags of cobwebs decorating the ceiling and upper walls.
When ‘Till’ came south to San Diego for health reasons he got his first job at the Last Chance Saloon on 5th Street. He saved up his money until he could buy his own saloon, naming it The Phoenix, located just one block from the docks. He opened his doors for business in 1875 and started collecting spiders to decorate his new place. He also hunted and trapped small animals and birds in southern California to display in cages, and bought exotic animals off sailors coming from South America. At one time, his menagerie housed a coyote, a bear, an anteater, and a monkey, along with exotic birds.
The bear, Bruin, caused a few incidences quite honorable to a bear, but not appreciated by humans. Till chained him outside the saloon to a tree. One particularly hot day, a group of children taunted Bruin by poking him with sticks. Aroused from his nap and angered, the bear broke loose of his chain, scaring the children and creating havoc until a few men lassoed him. After that, Till had an iron cage built and brought the bear inside the saloon. That worked for a while, until a customer who liked Bruin and regularly let the bear lick the beer off his face fell out of favor with the bear and had the tip of his nose bit off. After that (and the ensuing lawsuit,) Bruin retired to Till’s home, far away from people who would bother him (and visa versa.)
Despite all the animals and spiders, Till prided himself on keeping a clean establishment. By 1885 the spiders had built a respectable foot-thick wall of webbing over the ceiling. Visitors came from far and wide to see the amazing zoo, stuffed animals, and the spiders at work. The Phoenix was a city landmark and sailors and captains alike made sure to stop there frequently. While running the saloon, Till started other ventures—a stage line down to Mexico and personally escorted tours into the back country.
Before one of these tours, his bartender became sick. Till learned of a bartender vacationing in the city and hired him on the spot and then left quickly on the scheduled tour. Ten days later he returned only to find the industrious man had cleaned out every last cobweb in the place, destroying his endeavor of ten years.
Of course nowadays the health commissioner would frown on such a place. But how about you? What is the most unusual sight you have come across in your travels?
Comment for a chance to win Kathryn’s newest book The Gunslinger and the Heiress. She’ll be giving away three copies today. (With apologies, but Continental United States only.)
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From her first breath, Kathryn Albright has had a passion for stories that celebrate the goodness in people. She combines her love of history and her love of a good story to write novels of inspiration, endurance, and hope. Visit her at www.kathrynalbright.com, on Facebook , Twitter, or Goodreads.
When the sun rose on Sept. 9, 1900, the island city of Galveston, Texas, lay in ruins. What would come to be called The Great Storm, a hurricane of massive proportions, had roared ashore from the Gulf of Mexico overnight, sweeping “the Wall Street of the Southwest” from the face of the Earth.
Over the following weeks, rescuers pulled more than 6,000 bodies from the rubble, piled the remains on the beach, and burned them to prevent an outbreak of disease. Among the departed, discovered amid the wreckage of St. Mary’s Orphan Asylum, were the bodies of ninety children ages 2 to 13 and all ten Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word. In a valiant, yet ultimately futile, attempt to save the children from floodwaters that rose to twenty feet above sea level, each sister bound six to eight orphans to her waist with a length of clothesline. The lines tangled in debris as the water destroyed the only home some of the children had ever known.
All that survived of the orphanage were the three oldest boys and an old French seafaring hymn, “Queen of the Waves.” To this day, every Sept. 8 the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word worldwide sing the hymn in honor of the sisters and orphans who died in what remains the deadliest natural disaster ever to strike U.S. soil.
Established in Galveston in 1866 by three Catholic sisters from France, the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word is a congregation of women religious. Not technically nuns because they take perpetual simple vows instead of perpetual solemn vows and work among secular society instead of living in seclusion behind cloistered walls, they nevertheless wear habits and bear the title Sister. Today the original congregation is based in Houston, but back then Galveston seemed an ideal spot for the women to build a convent, an orphanage, and a hospital. On January 7, 1867, they opened Nazareth Academy in Victoria, Texas. In 1883, the federal Bureau of Education praised the academy as one of six Texas schools providing “superior instruction of women.” By 1869, the sisters had founded a second congregation in San Antonio. From there, they expanded to other cities in Texas, including Amarillo, and even farther west, all the way to California. In 2014, the sisters operated missions in Ireland, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Kenya in addition to the United States. They continue to operate Nazareth Academy, but as a coeducational school serving children in pre-kindergarten through eighth grade.
Armed with faith instead of guns, the sisters did their part to civilize Texas’s notoriously wild frontier. They did not do so without significant hardship. Catholics often were not well-tolerated in 19th Century America, although in Galveston the sisters were admired and even loved for their industry and benevolence. That benevolence led to the deaths of two of the original three Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, who perished during Galveston’s yellow fever epidemic of 1867.
As a Galvestonian, the history of the island city and its diverse people fascinates me. I continue to hope for inspiration that will grow into a story set here, where the past overflows with tales of adventure dating back well before the pirate Jean Lafitte built the fortified mansion Maison Rouge on Galveston in 1815. In the meantime, the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word provided the inspiration for the heroine in a quick read, The Second-Best Ranger in Texas, which is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and .
A washed-up Texas Ranger. A failed nun with a violent past. A love that will redeem them both.
Thanks so much for stopping by. As a token of my appreciation, I’ll give a copy of The Second-Best Ranger in Texas, in the winner’s choice of e-fomats, to one of today’s commenters.
Hello, Vickie McDonough here. Before I get to the actual post, I just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know I’ll be giving away a print copy of Gabriel’s Atonement to one of the visitors who leaves a comment on this post. Now, let’s talk about Lucille.
You’ve heard of Annie Oakley, but have you ever heard of Lucille Mulhall, who at one time was just as famous?
The first rodeo in Oklahoma Territory was held in the mid-1880s, and ironically, Lucille Mulhall 
was born on her family’s ranch near what would soon be Guthrie, Oklahoma on October 21, 1885. It is said that she could ride before she could walk. The cowboys who rode the plains of the Indian Territories tutored her in the art of lassoing. Her skill at riding, roping, and training horses was evident, and at a young age, she started competing in roping contests.
When Lucille was just ten years old, the mayor of Guthrie invited her to ply her skills and entertain at a cowboy gathering and contest. At age thirteen, she had her first major debut at the St. Louis Fair in 1897, and in a few years, she was performing on the vaudeville stage, entertaining crowds of up to 5,000.
Zach Mulhall, Lucille’s father, organized the Mulhall’s Congress of Rough Riders and Ropers. Lucille was the star of the show, where she met and became friends with Will Rogers and also Teddy Roosevelt, who was then a candidate for the vice-presidency.
Zach was a proud father and one of Lucille’s greatest fans. He claimed that when his daughter was thirteen, he told her she could keep as many of his steers as she could rope in one day. “Lucille,” he bragged, “didn’t quit until she’d lassoed more than 300 cattle!”
In 1900, when her father was roping in El Paso, he bet local cowboys that his daughter could out rope them—and she did. Zach won over $10,000, but Lucille faced a horrible ordeal. The cowboys didn’t believe she was a girl and attacked her, tearing at her clothing to prove she was not a woman. Her brother Charley rescued her just in time.
Later in 1900, Lucille performed at a Cowboy Tournament at a Rough Riders reunion. Teddy Roosevelt was again amazed at her skill. He joined the family for supper, where the topic of conversation centered on the wolves plaguing the area. Lucille offered to get one for Teddy. He agreed, but only if Lucille would rope one. Undaunted by the challenge, she spent the next ten days tracking a wolf pack. One morning, she caught up with them
, and as she rode toward them, the pack scattered—all except for a steer-sized wolf she called “loafer”, which ran straight toward her. She roped him, but he gnawed through the rope. She tossed another rope on loafer and tied him to a tree, then cut his throat. She took the wolf to a taxidermist and had it stuffed, then she sent it to Teddy Roosevelt. As a thank you, the Mulhalls and the 101 Wild West Show performed at the McKinley-Roosevelt inaugural parade.
Lucille and her wolf kill made the news across the country, and she was dubbed the Cowpuncher Queen of Oklahoma Territory. Newspaper reported that Lucille was the greatest attraction at the Rough Riders reunion. An article in the Wichita Daily Eagle described her as a little girl who “weighs only ninety pounds can break a bronco, lasso and brand a steer, and shoot a coyote at 500 yards. She can also play Chopin, quote Browning, construe “Virgil” and make mayonnaise dressing.”
1901, Lucille roped five horses simultaneously at a horse show in Iowa. Later, she roped eight at once. The next year, she won a “thousand dollar day championship medal” at the Texas State Fair and Champion Steer Cattlemen’s Convention in Fort Worth. In 1903, Lucille was dubbed “the only lady roper in the world” and won $10,000 when she set a new world record for steer roping.
Lucille married and had a son, but because she left home and returned to performing, her husband, Martin Van Bergen, raised the boy. Van Bergen later divorced Lucille after deciding she would never settle down to domestic life as most women. A second marriage also failed.
Some sources say that Lucille made millions of dollars by performing in silent movies. At one time, she was the most famous horse woman in the world, but she ended up where she began, back on her family’s ranch. She died tragically in a car crash on December 22, 1940.
Lucille performed before European royalty, U.S. presidents, and won the respect of cowboys worldwide for her skill. She became the only female rodeo producer of her time with her show Lucille Mulhall’s Roundup and is well known for opening up the world of rodeo for women. Lucille’s popularity was due to her skill, the result of perfect timing with her rope, unusual balance on her horse, and her diminutive size and ladylike demeanor. Most important, she was authentic, coming from a genuine ranch background. She was inducted into the Rodeo Hall of Fame in 1975 and National Cowgirl Hall of Fame in 1977.
So, tell me. Have you heard of Lucille Mulhall before?
Credits:
In 2008, I started writing a book called Gabriel’s Atonement, which has stayed on my heart ever since. It was one-third finished when I had to set it aside because I got a contract for another book. I was thrilled, when after several rejections, Gabriel’s Atonement was finally picked up by Barbour Publishing. The book released on January 1, and I’m thrilled to tell you that Gabriel’s Atonement, book 1 in the Land Rush Dreams series received 4 ½ stars from Romantic Times magazine.
Popular historical author Laurie Kingery writes: “This is possibly the best western I’ve read all year. (2014)”
What it’s about:
Gambler Gabe Coulter is content with his comfortable life—but when a man with a gun confronts him in a dark alley, everything changes. Guilt riddles him for killing Tom Talbot, even though it was self-defense. The dying man said the money he lost to Gabe was meant for his wife and son. The only way Gabe knows to rid himself of the guilt over killing Talbot is to return the money he won to the man’s wife.
Lara Talbot doesn’t believe Tom had money. She sees Gabe as a charming con artist like her irresponsible husband and wants nothing to do with him. She struggles to feed her family, keep her rebellious sister in line, and care for her young son and sick grandpa. The land rush in the Oklahoma Territory seems the only way for them to get a home, so Lara rides, but her dreams don’t turn out as planned. Could God have a bigger dream for her than she could imagine?
(Click on cover to purchase book)
To learn more about Vickie and her books, visit her website here.
I just completed writing my 75th novel. It’s a Christmas story set to come out next Christmas. It’s always more enjoyable to write a holiday book during the holiday season.
For fun, I started each chapter with a quote about Christmas. The last chapter includes this quote: “The excellence of a gift lies in its appropriateness rather than in its value.”—Charles Dudley Warner. In the final scene of the book, the hero gives the heroine an inexpensive gift that means more to her than all the gold in the world because the gift shows that he knows her inside and out.
Writing the book reminded me of the deeper meaning of gift giving. It’s not just an exchange of objects to delight and please our loved ones. The perfect gift is one that communicates the message: I love you. I know you. You are important to me.
In the course of writing the book, here’s what I discovered about choosing the perfect gift.
1) Decide what it is you want to say.
For example, what if you wanted to tell your loved one that you really appreciated what they did for you during a bad time in your life? Chose a gift that will show that appreciation. Let’s say they gave you a ride home after your car broke down. You could give them a gift card to a gas station.
2) Then ask yourself what can you give them that will communicate this message?
In other words, what specific item(s) could you purchase or make that symbolizes the message you want to communicate? Maybe you want to support a loved ones dream of being a musician. Guitar lessons might be the perfect choice.
3) Give from your heart, not your pocketbook.
It’s too easy to get caught up in spending when you’re bombarded with media advertising, but when you gift from the heart the price of the gift truly doesn’t matter. One of the favorite things my husband ever gave me was a straw hat he decorated himself with fishing lures that reminded me of a fly-fishing adventure we had in Yellowstone.
4) Take your time.
Take your time picking out the perfect gift. A perfect gift isn’t rushed. It takes thought and planning. A friend of mine, whose mother was going blind, recorded all her favorite recipes on audio, so Mom could listen to the instructions while she cooked.
5) Consider history.
When searching for the perfect gift consider your history with the person you’re giving the gift to or their personal history. A gift that reminds the receiver of a happy time and place stirs positive emotions in the moment.
One year, my mother-in-law squealed with delight one year when I got her Circus Peanuts because she’d once told me her father had given them to her every Christmas.
The benefits of taking the time and effort to chose a gift that perfectly fits that person, and what you want to say to them, is that ultimately you feel good about making them feel good.
And maybe that is the best gift of all.
What’s the best gift you’ve either given or received?.
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The facts are this: In June of 1863, William Moseley was out working in his field in Wright County, Missouri, despite the blistering sun. Whether his wife heard the gunshot or if she merely went looking for him when he failed to come in for dinner has been lost to history, but William Moseley was found dead among his own crops. Who killed him? We have stories naming three different suspects.
The first story is that he was shot in cold-blood by Union soldiers who knew his older boys had joined the Confederate army. The second theory bandied about was that there were bushwhackers roving the woods. They shot him down for his horse or whatever goods they could rustle up. The third story was that local tough James McClanahan robbed and murdered William. Fact is, nothing was ever proven, no one was ever tried for his death. All we know for sure is that when it came to murderers, there was no lack of suspects in Southwestern Missouri.
In many ways, the war started for the people of Missouri and Kansas long before the firing on Fort Sumter. From 1854 on, bands of armed men crossed the border both ways to intimidate their opponents, whether pro- or anti-slavery. Some of these vigilantes might have had lofty political goals, but to the farm families in the Ozark Mountains they were deadly nuisances.
In the beginning, the anti-slavery Kansans who formed groups to protect against or 
perpetrate violence (still depending on which side of the border the story comes from) were called jayhawkers or red-legs. Those from Missouri who took up arms whether to attack or defend were called bushwhackers. Back and forth, these loosely organized gangs roved, meting out vigilante justice, revenge or merely looking for selfish gain. With the onset of the Civil War, Kansas sided with the Union. Former jayhawkers were given a uniform and put under the leadership of men who hadn’t forgotten the ongoing feud with their neighboring state. The State of Missouri remained neutral—loyal to the Union, but requesting that its men be allowed to remain within its borders to protect the state’s interest. That request was denied.
On August 31, 1861, martial law was declared in the state of Missouri. Now any activity against their old foes the jayhawkers was viewed as guerilla warfare. No prisoners of war, no trials. “Summary execution, forced deportations, and seizures of private property…all with no legal process other than the consent of a Federal officer.”1
This, in a state that was loyal to the Union.
And the more the government tried to intervene, the more resentment grew. Unable to stem the guerilla warfare in the rugged Ozark Mountains, the federal government resorted to more draconian measures. Their desperation peaked in 1863, the year of William Moseley’s murder, with General Order No. 11 which forced a complete evacuation of four Missouri counties. It’s estimated that over 20,000 people were displaced leaving with only what they could haul out at a moment’s notice. Although the Order was intended to weaken the bushwhackers and pro-South guerillas, it had the opposite effect, causing many slavery opponents from the newly named “Burnt District” to turn on the government that set their homes and farms aflame, even if they were able to prove loyalty to the Union.
How widespread was the carnage caused by the warring factions? Although Missouri never entered the Civil War, there were more casualties from Missouri than from Virginia…or any other Confederate state for that matter.
So the jayhawkers became Union soldiers while the bushwhackers joined the Confederate troops as they found opportunity, giving themselves the protection of a soldier’s rights if captured. But some men, bloodthirsty and undisciplined, preferred to continue under their own flag, without the restraining hand of a commanding officer. Thus, the term bushwhacker began to be used generically for anyone who hid in the bushes to “whack” an unsuspecting citizen, while the title Jayhawk was cleaned up and applied to anyone from Kansas.
But who killed William Moseley? Was it a renegade Federal soldier, a former jayhawker? Was it a bushwhacker involved in guerilla warfare, who didn’t care what side poor Mr. Moseley was on? Or was it a nasty neighbor, looking to settle an old score or make some profit? We’ll never know. All I know is that I’m glad William’s two year old daughter survived the brutal war, or she never would’ve become my great-great grandmother.
To celebrate the season of great gifts, we’ll give an autographed copy of my latest A Most Inconvenient Marriage to one lucky commenter.
A Most Inconvenient Marriage
Abigail Stuart married Jeremiah Calhoun on his deathbed…or so she thought.
With few options of her own, nurse Abigail Stuart agrees to marry her patient, a gravely wounded soldier calling himself Jeremiah Calhoun. They arrange a quick ceremony before he dies, giving Abigail the rights to his Ozark farm and giving Jeremiah the peace of knowing someone will care for his ailing sister after he’s gone–a practical solution for both of them.
After the war, Abigail fulfills her side of the bargain–until the real Jeremiah Calhoun shows up, injured but definitely alive, and wastes no time in challenging Abigail’s story. Abigail is flummoxed. After months of claiming to be his widow, how can she explain that she’s never seen this Jeremiah Calhoun before? How can she convince him that she isn’t trying to steal his farm? And will she find a way to stay, even though this practical arrangement has turned into a most inconvenient marriage?
BIO:
Regina Jennings is homeschooling mother of four from Oklahoma. She enjoys watching musicals with her kids, traveling with her husband and reading by herself. When not plotting historical fiction, she plots how she could move Highclere Castle, stone by stone, into her pasture and how she could afford the staff to manage it.
Regina is the author of five historical romances. Her latest release is A Most Inconvenient Marriage. She loves to hear from readers at her website – www.reginajennings.com and on Facebook, Twitter or Pinterest.