Henry Starr – Outlaw and Actor

As you may have guessed from his name, Henry Starr is a relative of Belle Starr, the Outlaw Queen. A nephew, to be exact. Henry was born in 1873 in Oklahoma Territory to George Starr, who was half Cherokee, and Mary Scott Starr, who was one quarter Cherokee. Mary came from an educated, law abiding family. George, not so much. Interestingly, Henry was no fan of Belle, whom he found crude and offensive. He told people they were related only by marriage. He didn’t seem to have a problem with his outlaw uncle Sam Starr, or grandfather Tom Starr.

After his father died, his mother married an abusive man, and Henry left home at the age of thirteen. He worked as a cowboy in rough and rowdy northeast Oklahoma, and despite having only a sixth grade education, was something of an intellectual. His first brush with the law was when he borrowed a wagon that was found to have whiskey in it. He pled guilty to having illegal spirits, but insisted he hadn’t known about the whiskey. His next encounter was law enforcement was when he was falsely accused of stealing a horse. After being bailed out of jail by his cousin, he took to the road, jumping bail. It seems that he decided that if he was going to be accused of crimes, he may as well commit them. He and two other men began robbing stores and train stations shortly thereafter.

Two lawmen managed to hunt down Henry in 1892 on a ranch where Henry was rumored to work. A gunfight ensued and Henry killed a Deputy Marshal and then escaped. Now wanted for murder, Henry and his partners began robbing banks instead of stores. While traveling to California by train, they stopped in Colorado Springs, where law enforcement were finally able to arrest Henry for murder and highway robbery. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to hang in 1893. His lawyers managed to appeal and the US Supreme Court overturned the decision, giving Henry a second trial. He was once again found guilty and sentenced to hang. His lawyers again appealed and Henry got a third trial, in which he pleaded guilty to manslaughter and was sentenced to 15 years.

During his stay in jail, a fellow inmate, Cherokee Bill, attempted a jailbreak with a smuggled gun. A guard was killed in the gunfight that followed. The guards could not disarm Cherokee Bill, so Henry, a friend of Bill, told the guards that he would talk the man into giving up the gun if the guards promised not to kill Bill. The guards agreed and Henry talked Cherokee Bill into giving up his gun. Because of this act, the Cherokee Tribal Government applied for a pardon, and Teddy Roosevelt, who was impressed with Henry’s bravery, reduced the sentence. Henry was released in 1903. After returning to civilian life and working in his mother’s restaurant, he married and had a son, Teddy Roosevelt Starr.

Unfortunately, law enforcement agents from Arkansas still had a bone to pick with Henry regarding a robbery there and demanded extradition in 1904. At that point, Henry went back on the run, formed a new gang and once again began robbing banks. He was captured, convicted and sent back to prison. While in prison,  he studied law and wrote his autobiography Thrilling Events; Life of Henry Starr. He was paroled by the governor in 1913. Once free, he began robbing banks again, chalking up a total of 15 robberies in 1914-1915. He was captured in 1915 and once again went to prison, where he finally came to the conclusion that crime didn’t pay  (even though it have been quite lucrative to him). He began speaking and writing to young people and encouraging them not to follow a life of crime, but to instead earn their money the old fashioned way. He was paroled in 1919 because of his good acts. He then turned to acting, producing and starring in a silent movie called A Debtor to the Law, which drove home the senselessness of crime. The movie was a success and he received an offer to make a Hollywood movie, but turned it down, once again fearing extradition to Arkansas. So what did he do then?

He returned to a life of crime. In 1921 he attempted a bank robbery in Harrison, Arkansas, but was shot in the commission of the crime and later died of his wound. He bragged to doctors on his deathbed that he had robbed more banks than any man in America. Indeed, he had made off with more than $60,000 during his career as a bank robber.

Del Blancett

I love learning tidbits from history.

We were at the Pendleton Round-Up over the weekend, and the souvenir program had a lovely article about Dell Blancett.

That name is probably unfamiliar to most people, but his wife’s name was well known in rodeo circles in the early 1900s.

Bertha Kaepernik Blancett was born in 1883 in Ohio. She made history in 1904 by becoming the first woman to ride a bucking horse at Cheyenne Frontier Days. Fashionable and tough, she went on to win the bucking championship at the Pendleton Round-Up in 1911, 1912, and 1914. She become known as the “most famous woman rider in rodeo.” Bertha established the world record for Roman racing in Pendleton, making a quarter mile in eight seconds.

The year was 1909 when she met Dell Blancett, a rodeo steer wrestler who also worked as a trick rider for the Bison Moving Picture Company.

Dell was born in Iowa in a wagon train traveling west from Indiana in January 1883.  His family ended up in Washington state.

The year was 1909 when Dell and Bertha wed. What many people don’t know is that they were a team. She rode as his hazer when he was steer wrestling (a hazer’s job is to keep the steer going in a straight line without touching or assisting the wrestler). Dell was considered one of the best all-around cowboys during the 1910s. He was a world champion bulldogger (steer wrestler), a talented roper, and a rider above average ability. He owned strings of horses he transported all around the West, setting up his headquarters in Pendleton.

 

Dell and Bertha were partners and sweethearts, wowing rodeo crowds with their skill and talent, as well as participating in movies and wild west shows.

With the United States’ entry into World War I looming on the horizon, Dell became one of the men who organized a voluntary cowboy company, the Oregon Troop D Field Artillery. Sadly, he was rejected from serving because of rheumatism. However, that didn’t stop him from finding his way to France and the war. Dell headed to Canada and enlisted in the Canadian Cavalry. He was assigned to the A Squadron of the Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadian). The unit was  one of the most elite of Canadian Cavalry units. It had been formed by the Honourable Donald Alexander Smith, later the 1st Baron Strathcona, as a privately organized cavalry unit during the Boer War. It was comprised of cowboys and members of the Northwest Mounted Police.

The company was transferred to France in February 1918. In March, the squadron was pressed into battle against a German offensive. Machine gun fire killed all but 51 members. The last letter Dell wrote was address to Roy Raley of Pendleton (Roy was one of the founders of the Happy Canyon Pageant and the Pendleton Round-Up). The letter included Dell’s riding crop and spurs.

Dell was killed March 30, 1918 at the age of 35. Reportedly, his last words were, “Those German bullets sure hit hard.” The action by Canadian cowboys in the wood was regarded as a principal element in the ultimate Allied victory in November of that year. Dell is buried in Moreuil Woods in France. He was the first Pendleton resident, and first Round-Up star to die in the war.

Bertha never remarried. She retired from rodeo and worked as a stunt woman in Western films starring notable names such as Tom Mix and Hoot Gibson. She traveled across the United States and Europe with the Pawnee Bill’s Wild West show and the 101 Ranch Wild West show. In later years, she served as a guide at Yosemite National Park. She died in 1979, at the age of 95.

One of my recently released books, Molly, takes place during World War I. It’s about an American soldier named Friday and a Hello Girl named Molly who meet in France.

If you haven’t yet read it yet, the story is a sweet and wholesome historical romance filled with hope, faith, courage, and love.

Because I dug deeply into the research for this story, the lives of the Hello Girls came alive for me.

The real Hello Girls were incredibly brave women who opened the door for women in the military. They are also part of the reason the 19th  Amendment was finally passed after World War I, giving women the right to vote.

However, these amazing women were not recognized as veterans for nearly six decades. Right now, efforts are being made to put a bill in place to aware them a Congressional Gold Medal. After reading their stories, I can honestly say they have more than earned it!

We have just a few more weeks to get the legislation through Congress before it dies. The required 67 votes in the Senate have been attained, but 60 additional House Representative sponsors are needed.

Would you consider helping the Hello Girls? It doesn’t cost anything but a moment of your time! (Note: This bill does not require any funding!)

If you are interested, just go to the Hello Girls website, choose your state and district, copy and paste the provided letter, and submit. That is it! With enough people reaching out to their district representatives, it can make an impact. If you know anyone in a government office, ask for them to offer their support, too!

If you’d like to learn more FAQs about the Hello Girls, there’s a handy sheet here.

The Hello Girls have become so dear to my heart, and it would mean so much to their descendants if the Congressional Gold Medal was awarded to them.

What is something “near and dear” to your heart? 

A charity? A sweet story? A special memento or photograph? 

Share your answer for a chance to win an autographed copy of Molly.

“Wash Day Monday”

 

Women have been organizing and keeping house from the beginning of recorded time. However, several centuries back, universal housekeeping regimes were adopted in England. These schedules were shared mother-to-daughter and sister-to-sister until they were widely accepted. Nursery rhymes even incorporated them.

Ivory Soap added a Mother Goose rhyme about washing on Monday to one of their ads (below). In Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book Winter Days in the Big Woods, the author notes the following schedule for homemakers:

              • Wash on Monday
              • Iron on Tuesday
              • Mend on Wednesday
              • Churn on Thursday
              • Clean on Friday
              • Bake on Saturday
              • Rest on Sunday

As a lover of history, I’m fascinated by these rituals in which our early sisters partook. However, while doing my research I came across a slightly different variation of the poem and the reasoning behind it that made perfect sense.

              • Wash on Monday
              • Iron on Tuesday
              • Bake on Wednesday
              • Brew on Thursday  
              • Churn on Friday  
              • Mend on Saturday
              • Church on Sunday

It’s worth noting that “brewing” was not so that early American homemakers could get tipsy. These were not early “desperate housewives!” It was necessary because settlers were told not to trust the water. So, they would brew and drink apple cider instead. Thompson notes that once the water controversy was cleared up, “Thursday was designated as marketing day.” Another transition happened when farmers began providing dairy products and it became unnecessary to have a segregated day for churning. “This relieved the city dwellers of churning and making cheeses on Friday, and they began using this day for housecleaning.”

However, the wash day process started days ahead of the actual washing.

On Saturdays, the laundry was gathered, sorted, and mended. Any rips or tears were sewn, socks darned. On Sundays, the clothing was then soaked overnight in warm water, of with a bit of soap, baking soda, or lye.

Once Monday arrived, the real work began. Women would rise early, gather a great deal of fuel for the fire, and haul many gallons of water to fill their wash, soaking, and rinse tubs, then they would go through the following steps:

  • wash clothes right side out, including applying soap and scrubbing on a washboard.
  • wring to rid clothes of excess water
  • wash the clothes inside out, including applying soap and scrubbing again on the washboard.
  • wring to rid clothes of excess water
  • boil the clothes in soapy water, agitating them with long sticks.
  • wring again
  • rinse clothes in fresh, clean water to remove all traces of soap.
  • wring once more
  • dry on clothesline, a nearby bush, or even laid flat in the grass

     

Whew!!! All I can say is as much as I’d want to travel in a wagon train…thank goodness for my Maytag washer and dryer!!!

In addition, it was also necessary to “blue” the laundry to rid the fabrics of the yellowing that came with age, washing, and wear. Bluing could be found in stores and mercantiles in the later 1800s. A bit of bluing would be added to the water causing the eye to see less of the yellow, and instead, see more of the white.

Other bleaching agents were buttermilk or turpentine for cotton material and ammonia for flannel material.

And just when you thought wash day was over, there was still starching and ironing to be done. Starch would be mixed with water, the clean, dry clothing submerged in the mix, and then wrung out again. Once the clothes were almost dry, a sadiron would be heated on the stove until hot, then applied to the clothing to remove the wrinkles. From my own memories, I recall my mother sprinkling liquid starch on my father’s Sunday white shirts, rolling them up before them in a plastic bag and refrigerating them until she was ready to iron.

Folding the clothes and putting away the clothes was the final step.

Imagine doing all this while chasing after the children, getting meals on the table, and doing a myriad of other things?

***********Giveaway***********

To win a $10 Amazon Gift Card answer the question below:

Were you aware of all the steps it took to wash clothes in the 1800s?

He was the most stubborn and prideful man she’d ever met.
She was a busybody who stuck her nose in his business at every turn!
With Christmas on the horizon, Claire McAllister has far too much to do to entertain dreams of a husband and family. Even if she feels inclined to help Lincoln Wyse outwit his three mischievous young daughters, it’s impossible to imagine the handsome widower seeing her as anything but a scolding schoolteacher.

Even though the pretty schoolteacher never turned a favorable eye to him, Linc Wyse’s heart skipped a beat whenever she pinned him with her mesmerizing green eyes. Beautiful or not, Claire McAllister was a meddling spinster who placed judgments on him and his family.

Yet, neither one can imagine how three little, mischievous matchmakers and a magical Christmas Eve sleigh ride will open their eyes to love…or how the Lord will awaken their faith and hope.

CLICK HERE

 

 

 

 

 

Just Who Is the Medicine Man

Howdy!  Howdy!

And Welcome to another terrific Tuesday.  Yay!

Am hoping y’all had a wonderful 4th and are ready to jump back into work, family, and life in general.

Well, I know this is a bit of an odd topic, but I gotta tell you, when I first started writing about the American Indian Medicine Man, I really didn’t have a clue.  All the while I was writing book#1 (She Steals My Breath), I was reading and studying and for those who believe in a bit of the paranormal, I had some help from a spirit medicine man, who came to me during a time of great trauma and who seemed to help guide me through the rough passages.

And so, a few years later and now writing book #5 in the series, I feel I can perhaps write about what I have discovered about these fascinating men.

To the right is a photo of Black Elk, one of the most famous of the Lakota Medicine Men.  This picture was snapped when he was touring Europe with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.  He became a medicine man when he was only nineteen (I think that’s right — it might have been eighteen, but I think he was nineteen).  The book, BLACK ELK SPEAKS by John G. Neihardt, details his illness and his dream that caused him to become a medicine man.

He was a very handsome man, as well as a defender of his people, and he remained handsome and his people’s defender all his life.

Another book that has done much to bring the mind-set of the medicine man to me is the book, Fools Crow by Thomas E. Mails.  This book, and especially the chapter called “We Medicine Men,” was enlightening to me.  These men were not shaman’s who could be good and do lots of good, or could be the opposite.

Not so the medicine man.  To the right here is a Kiowa Medicine man and his wife and child.  Now, when I first started studying the medicine man, I relied on the observations of George Catlin, who traveled West in the 1830’s and met the medicine men and chiefs and others within the tribe and painted their pictures.

And so I’m going to include here a little of what I have learned in these few years of my study of this subject.  I’m hoping to include this little “write-up” I did of the medicine men in book #5.  So here is where I am today on this subject:

***************************************************

THE MEDICINE MAN:

Because of my constant study of books in this field, I have become more and more aware of just what was a medicine man in the long ago days, and so I thought I would try to define this word or this man as it was known and used before the turn of the 19th century (the 1800’s).  Also, because the word, medicine, has a different connotation today than what was traditionally meant by an American Indian Medicine Man, it seems only right that I should try my best to define this word, medicine, as it was used traditionally.  Author and painter, George Catlin, tried as best he could to define the word, medicine, and to define the “medicine men,” also.

From his book in the early 1830’s, LETTERS AND NOTES ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITIONS OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, Mr. Catlin writes:  “The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their language, a doctor or physician, is called ‘Medecin.’  The Indian country is full of doctors; and as they are all magicians, and skilled, or profess to be skilled, in many mysteries, the word “medecin” has become habitually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable; and the English and Americans….have easily and familiarly adopted the same word, with a slight alteration, conveying the same meaning; and to be a little more explicit, they have denominated these personages “medicine-men,” which means something more than merely a doctor or physician.”

Note:  The photo to the right here is of a Blackfeet medicine man and his wife.

Mr. Catlin goes on to write that these Medicine Men were of the highest order in their tribes.  He goes on to say this: when the medicine man was called upon to help the sick or the injured, he generally first used roots and herbs as many people today do, too.  But if those failed, Mr. Catlin observed that those men would resort to the use of their “medicine,” or the mystery that each medicine man possessed.  And, each medicine man had his own dress and ritual he would perform over a sick, dying or injured person, using dances, rattles, and singing his song or songs of healing.  Mr. Catlin also made a note that the medicine men of the past used, “magic” to heal, saying he was often successful, and many “mysterious” or “magical” healings occurred because of the medicine man’s skills.

It is in reference to the use of the word, “magic,” that I wish to address more specifically, because this reference I have found, while not a lie, is also not quite true in my opinion.  But, let me explain.

Mr. Catlin was not an American Indian, and so he defined the word in the best way he knew how and he describes a sort of “magic” that he could see was being used by these medicine men.  This is understandable, because Mr. Catlin wrote about what he could see was happening from his own view of the world as he knew it.

However, there are now more recent books on the topic of how the medicine man was able to heal: one of these books is, Fools Crow—Fools Crow by Thomas E. Mails— another of these books is Black Elk Speaks, by John G. Neihardt.  And so we now know that it was not necessarily magic the American Indian Medicine Man was utilizing to heal, but rather it was his devotion and prayers to the Creator who, working through the medicine man, healed the sick and the dying.  In other words,the Creator was healing the sick…through the medicine man.  I do not believe the Creator or God should ever be left out of the equation of healing.

Note: the picture to the left is a Crow man standing outside a medicine tepee.

In the old days, a real medicine man never believed that it was he who was healing the sick.  He was always well aware, as were others within the tribe, that it was the Creator who healed those in need.  And He healed via the Medicine Man.

Again, I quote from George Catlin’s book, LETTERS AND NOTES ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITIONS OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS:

“These men…are valued as dignitaries in the tribe, and the greatest respect is paid to them by the whole community;… In all councils of the war and peace, they have a seat with the chiefs — are regularly consulted before any public step is taken, and the greatest deference and respect is paid to their opinions.”

 To the right here is another Kiowa medicine man and his wife.

Before ending, I’d like to say this about the “magic” George Catlin beheld and wrote about.  In delving back into history, I’ve discovered that there were medicine men and medicine women who were so in tune with themselves and nature around them, they appeared to be doing “magic.”  However, to many of these men, what they were doing was to them more common place than what we see in our fast-paced world today.

For instance, I write about the “mind-speak” that all medicine men and almost all scouts could do at a distance or up close.  There is on record an entire council of medicine men who “talked” about and decided upon a course of action without a single word being said nor using hand gestures.  The scout could tune into the vibration of the woods and know when something came into those woods that wasn’t supposed to be there.

I guess today we would say this was magic because we are not used to being this close to nature or even to each other.  And yet, men and women who have been married for a long time often know exactly what the other person is going to say before he/she even says it.  Some even complete sentences for the other.  So, I guess what I’m saying is that I think this “magic” that was witnessed by many people during the 1800’s was, perhaps, to them more commonplace than we would think of it today.

By the way, I am NOT saying magic doesn’t exist or that it wasn’t used, but I do think … from my studies that what we would call “magic” was more common place back then, if only because the people, themselves were so close to nature, to each other and to God.

These medicine men and medicine women could talk to animals, to each other, to plants, to trees and often — according to them — in their own language.   I talk to my plants and they “talk” back to me if I am in a mind to listen to them.  And, sometimes when my attention isn’t even on them, they get my attention and tell me what they need

 

To the right here is Peter Mitchell, Medicine chief during the Ghost Dance.

This actually isn’t a very good picture of him — he was a very handsome man.

From my studies of the past and of these men and women, I find a real devotion to God (each tribe had a different name for God — I call Him in my books, the Creator) and to the people of their tribe.  I once read a story of two Blackfeet Medicine Men who, upon learning that their “medicine” wasn’t working, counselled together and discovered that they were praying using the tobacco given to them by the traders.  Because it was their devotion and love for their people, they decided to once again grow their own tobacco, which they did (having many adventures) and when done, they found they were able to help their people again.

 

Here is another picture of Dust Maker — Peter Mitchell, with his wife.

Well, this is what I have discovered from my studies.  These men had some mysterious qualities, as did many of the American Indians, both men and women.  And this is what I think might be true and so I thought I would blog about it today.

How I wish we had learned from one another instead of what happened.

Let me remind you that my latest effort, She Brings Beauty To Me, is still on sale at a 25% discount…but only for a short time longer.

Please pickup your book here:  https://tinyurl.com/She-Brings-Beauty-To-Me

So, I would love to hear your opinion about his — no matter what it is — so please do come on in and leave a message.  By the way, the site is experiencing some difficulties, making it hard for an author to answer comments.  But, perhaps it will be fixed today.  But, I will check in to see your posts and I will answer if I can and if not, at least I will be able to learn of your thoughts.

 

 

A Wild West Train Robbery in Oregon

When I was researching historical details to incorporate into Luna, my sweet romance that releases July 2, I happened across an article about a train robbery that took place in July 1914.

The timing was perfect for my story set during the summer of 1914.  And how exciting to have my hero and heroine on a train that was getting robbed!  It’s referred to as one of the last Wild West train robberies, and one of the last that had a six-shooter involved in the shoot-out. It was such a newsworthy event, newspapers all over the region carried the story of the robbers who picked the wrong train.

Clarence Stoner

Clarence Stoner was a cousin to two of the West’s notorious outlaws, Hugh and Charles Whitney, and a member of Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch gang in Wyoming.

Albert Meadors
Charles Manning

In the summer of 1914, he was in Oregon, running around with a gambler named Charles Manning and an outlaw sheepman from Kentucky named Albert Meadors.

The three of them hatched a plan to rob Train No. 5, an Oregon & Washington Railway Navigation Co. passenger train. In real life, the robbery happened in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t figure out a reason to put my characters on the train then, so I took a bit of creative license with the timeline and made it the afternoon.

The would-be robbers received word the train would be carrying a big payroll in the express car. The point where they planned to rob the train was a bit of genius. They chose a remote spot between Kamela and Meacham, at the summit of the Blue Mountains in Eastern Oregon. The train would slow down there to check its brakes, and that’s when they planned to rob the train.

When the train neared the summit and slowed to check the brakes, out came the guns, and the outlaws set their plans in motion. They collected all the train crew members, starting at the back of the train. One of the porters was shining shoes when he was forced to leave his post at gunpoint, and reportedly carried the shoe in his hand all the way to the baggage car where the outlaws would keep the crew. As they moved through the train, Manning pulled the emergency stop, and the train came to rest a few dozen yards past the crest of the summit, nose down on a 2.5 percent winding downhill grade with the airbrakes locked (for those who are train aficionados – yes, that was a very bad thing!).

Stoner went forward to get the engineer and fireman, bringing them back to the locked baggage car. Manning approached the express car and demanded entry. The clerk opened the door, and Manning soon learned there was no money inside. The outlaws were robbing the wrong train.

Instead of cutting their losses and disappearing, they decided to rob the passengers. Stoner was left to guard the train crew at the baggage car while Manning and Meadors started going through the passenger cars, stealing money and jewelry.

It just so happened that one of the passengers was Morrow County Deputy Sheriff George McDuffy. He watched as the robbers made their way toward him, waiting until they were distracted, then pulled his single-action six-shooter.

Who shot first varies, depending on which account of the event you read, but Manning shot McDuffy in the chest and the bullet hit his pencil case, which likely saved his life. Reportedly, McDuffy shot Manning through the heart, and the second shot hit close to the first. A third shot to the head ended the outlaw’s life. McDuffy’s shots, though, filled the car with smoke and made it hard to see.

Meadors escaped and was reportedly heard yelling at Stoner to run.

The outlaws had purchased a getaway car. It isn’t clear if the car was stolen, they couldn’t find it, or the getaway driver took off, but when Meadors and Stoner got back to where the car was supposed to be, it was gone, and they were left to escape on foot. They were caught walking along the railroad tracks twenty miles from the scene of the crime.

Thankfully, the brakes held until the train could get underway, otherwise the entire load of passengers and crew may have died in a train crash that day.

As for the two outlaws, Stoner reformed himself when he got out of prison and lived a fairly normal life, purchasing a farm in Idaho and leaving his career in crime behind him. Meaders was just getting started on a life of crime. After the train robbery, he was in and out of prison for any number of crimes including burglary, bootlegging, and even manslaughter.

Deputy Sheriff McDuffy was hailed as a hero and was able to return to his home after spending time recovering at the hospital in Pendleton. You can read about the robbery in an article on Offbeat Oregon, or old newspaper articles.

And you can read about Hunter and Luna, my hero and heroine, and their experiences during the robbery in Luna, coming July 2!

She’s searching for peace and grace

He’s ready to step into his next big adventure

Haunted by memories of the fateful day that changed her life, Luna Campanelli seeks a fresh start in Pendleton, Oregon. Life in the wild western town is nothing like she imagined, although the rugged beauty of the area soothes her troubled spirit. An unlikely friendship with one of the area ranch hands lifts her hopes, until she discovers the cowboy isn’t who he’s led her to believe.

Hunter Douglas didn’t intend to hide his identity from the woman he met on the train, but when she assumed he was his sister’s hired hand, he didn’t correct her. He never anticipated forming such a deep connection to her, especially when thoughts of her continue to infiltrate his carefully made plans. As a recent college graduate with an inheritance he intends to use to start his own ranch in Pendleton, Hunter must decide if he is willing to open his heart and include Luna in his future.

Will they embrace the unexpected love that has blossomed between them, or let fear tear them apart?

This sweet and wholesome romance is a story of love, healing, and the power of hope in a delightful western setting. Join Luna and Hunter on their journey as they discover what it truly means to love unconditionally.

What would you do if you found yourself in the midst of a train robbery? 

Share your answer for a chance to win a mystery prize! 

 

The Women Who Ran the Range and a Giveaway!

Howdy, y’all! Heather Blanton here. I’ve got a new box set out this week from my Burning Dress Ranch series. The Burning Dress is a ranch run by women for women. Some would think that’s a tall tale. A woman can’t run a ranch.

If you think that, you’ve never met Kittie Wilkins, Margaret Borland, or Ellen Watson, to name a few ranching pioneers.

From the late 1880s and into the 20th Century, Kittie Wilkins was quite literally the Horse Queen of Idaho. At one point she had a herd of over 10,000 fine animals. And fine was the name of her game. Kittie’s horses were spectacular.

 

Her father was a horse trader. She picked up the skill from him and ran with it. She had an uncanny eye for horse flesh, a strong work ethic, a quick mind, and–probably most importantly–the respect of her ranch hands. Kittie is credited with negotiating the largest horse trade in US history. In one deal, she sold 8000 horses to England for use in the Boer War. She was also a darling of the press because of her business acumen and feminine ways.

 

In 1873, Margaret Borland owned a good-sized spread in Texas, but cattle in Texas weren’t worth much. About $8 a head. Up the road in Kansas, though, beef was bringing $23 a head! Margaret, not being a dummy, defied convention and organized her own cattle drive. What’s more, she also served as the trail boss! But she arrived at this situation more out of necessity than desire.

Widowed three times, she had to step up repeatedly if she wanted to keep her ranch running and her children fed. Each tragic death solidified in her the fortitude to fight on, as well as offered the opportunity for her to learn the cattle business. Surviving these trials by fire, Margaret became the only female rancher to run a cattle drive up the Chisholm trail.

And then there’s Ellen Watson, a young woman who took advantage of the Wyoming Homestead Act and procured 160 acres for herself in 1887. With Jim Averell, most likely her secret husband, she filed for squatter’s rights on land adjacent to his and continued expanding her herd. Jim ran a restaurant and general store, but Ellen tended to the ranch with the help of a few reliable hands.

Ellen was becoming a successful rancher when she ran afoul of neighboring cattle baron Albert Bothwell. Bothwell coveted Ellen’s land and eventually, his greed led to her death. Ellen and Jim were lynched by Bothwell in July of 1889. To protect the wealthy cattlemen involved in the murders, the press dubbed Ellen “Cattle Kate” and declared her a cattle thief and prostitute.

They might have taken her ranch, her life, and her reputation, but they didn’t take away her accomplishments as a fine rancher.

Women like these inspired Burning Dress Ranch. Everything the women do in my stories, from wrangling cattle to shoeing horses to bending iron on an anvil is real, true history. Just like my historical heroes, my fictional heroines come away with a new vocation, a bright future, and their happily ever after!

So, what do you think? Are women every bit the rancher a man can be? Maybe with different expectations and parameters? Is the idea believable?

 

The Burning Dress Ranch Box Set of all five books is available now, but for your chance to win it, leave a comment and tell me what you think about these feisty, determined women.

I’m giving my box set away to 5 lucky commenters!

You can find the box set on Amazon

Lady Gold Rushers and a Giveaway!

Hello there! I’m Linda Shenton Machett, and I’m here to talk about Lady Goldrushers!

While visiting my dad, I was in the midst of deciding what to write for my next series. We were watching Gold Rush: Alaska, one of his favorite shows which got me to thinking about the early gold and silver rushes here in America. Research nerd that I am, I immediately pulled out my smart phone and started hunting for information. I stumbled on Joann Levy’s book They Saw the Elephant: Women in the California Gold Rush and was intrigued. Female gold rushers?

Hooked, my mind raced as I continued to research. The book’s title came from the forty-niners themselves who announced they were “going to see the elephant.” Those who turned back claimed they had seen “the elephant’s tracks” or the “elephant’s tail,” and that was enough for them. Filled with first person accounts, Ms. Levy’s book immersed me into a woman’s world of packing up their worldly goods and headed west on horseback or in wagons to seek their fortune. Some convinced their husbands, fathers, or brothers to go, but a large percentage of the women set out on their own. The reasons they went were as numerous as the women themselves.

The US has been home to lots of gold rushes (as well as silver and other precious metals and gems). Most people have heard of the California and Alaskan rushes, but the first rush of any size occurred in northern Georgia two decades before the California rush. In 1829, the tiny town of Dahlonega was overrun with men seeking their fortune after hearing about a find in the mountains. I decided that’s where my series would begin. The series continues with the Pikes Peak rush in 1859, followed by the 1899 Nome rush.

Guts, grit, and determination defined these women whose journals and diaries contained such entries as:

“One of the party shot him {a snake}; he measured nine feet, about as large as my arm a little above the wrist. In the course of the day, another came down the tree very near us, but a different species, not so large, which was very soon dispatched. The gentlemen took them to the village, to show what big things they had done.”

“We spent three days very pleasantly although all were nearly starved for want of wholesome food but you know my stomach is not lined with pink satin, the bristles on the pork, the weavels {sic} in the rice, and worms in the bread did not start me at all.”

But despite the hardships, the women continued to prospect:

“This morning the gold fever raged so high that I went again to dig with the rest but got very little gold…came home tired tonight. Still in good spirits.”

How many women participated in the gold rushes is not known. Most lived anonymously, and left little record behind. I hope in some small way, Gold Rush Hannah honors these stalwart women.

Question for readers: What would make you leave everything you know to travel a great distance to try your hand at prospecting for gold? Comment for your chance to win an ebook edition of Gold Rush Bride Hannah.


Here’s a little more about Gold Rush Bride Hannah:

A brand-new widow, she’s doesn’t need another man in her life. He’s not looking for a wife. But when danger thrusts them together, will they change their minds…and hearts?

Hannah Lauman’s husband has been murdered, but rather than grief, she feels…relief. She decides to remain in Georgia to work their gold claim, but a series of incidents makes it clear someone wants her gone…dead or alive. Is a chance at being a woman of means and independence worth risking her life?

Jess Vogel never breaks a promise, so when he receives a letter from a former platoon mate about being in danger, he drops everything to help his old friend. Unfortunately, he arrives just in time for the funeral. Can he convince the man’s widow he’s there for her protection not for her money?


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Linda Shenton Matchett writes happily ever after historical Christian fiction about second chances and women who overcome life’s challenges to be better versions of themselves. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, Linda has been scribbling stories since her parents gifted her a notebook in the third grade. She now resides in central New Hampshire where she works as a Human Resources professional and volunteers as a docent and archivist for the Wright Museum of World War II.

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Tombstone’s Infamous “The Bird Cage”

I recently started a historical novella (you’ll probably be hearing more about that sometime in the near future). It’s been a while since I’ve written in a time period not modern day, and I’ve forgotten that there’s a lot of research involved. I can’t get through a single scene, sometimes not a single page, without having to stop and fact-check or look up a name, place, thing.

I decided to put a fictional saloon/restaurant establishment in my story and call it the Yellow Songbird, loosely basing it on a real life place called the Bird Cage Theater in Tombstone, Arizona. Well, of course, this required I get online and Google the theater. I’ve visited Tombstone in the past, but that was over twenty years ago, and my memory isn’t reliable. Needless to say, I learned a lot of interesting tidbits about this colorful landmark, and I thought it would be fun to share my findings with you.

To start with, there are 120 bullet holes in the walls, give or take. Real bullet holes. From when people shot at each other. I don’t want to imagine how many patrons died there or who did the shooting. Then again, maybe I do. Could be good fodder for a future story.

The Bird Cage originally opened in December of 1881 – a combination theater, saloon, gambling hall and brothel. It’s reputed to have hosted the longest poker game ever played (lasting over eight years) where participants had to buy in for $1000 – Diamond Jim Brady, Doc Holliday, Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp were among those who sat at the famous table. Some of eclectic acts to have performed there are Mademoiselle De Granville, the woman with the iron jaw who specialized in picking up heavy objects with her teeth, the Irish comic duo of Burns and Trayers, and opera singer Carrie Delmar. One magician claimed he could catch bullets with his teeth. Perhaps he’s responsible for some of those 120 bullet holes in the walls!

Known as a rough and tumble place, it has a less than pristine history. Wyatt Earp, the deputy marshal during the Bird Cage’s 13 years of operation, was said to have engaged in a torrid affair with one of the establishment’s soiled doves. Supposedly, 26 miners and cowboys died in bar fights and shootouts. A woman even had her heart carved out of her chest — by another woman who was jealous of her. Yikes! For those who believe in spirts, the Bird Cage has a number of confirmed ghosts, and some of them are not very friendly.

When the mines closed, and the economy in Tombstone tanked, people left to find work elsewhere. Like a lot of the town’s businesses, the Bird Cage closed its doors and shuttered its windows. Eventually, the Bird Cage was reopened intermittently to celebrate Helldorado, an annual celebration marking Tombstone’s founding. Then, in 1934, it was leased as a coffee shop. Eventually, the Bird Cage became a museum and very popular local attraction visited by thousands of tourists every year.

I don’t think I’ll make my fictional Yellow Songbird saloon/restaurant quite as colorful as Tombstone’s the Bird Cage. Or as dangerous. But I like the idea of an opera singer, and I suppose there’ll have to be one or two bar fights. Just none that end quite so horrifically ?

Prairie Fires: Needed but Deadly

 

Hey everyone! I’m so excited to be doing my first blog post here and to be joining these other amazing fillies and sharing more about the West, myself, and my books. I’m giving away an ebook today, too. 

Let’s jump into it! Recently, I needed to do a little research on something. I wanted to make sure that I was writing a scene authentically, as I’d never experienced it firsthand before. What I found was more shocking than I’d imagined.

“Faster than a horse could run,” a historic witness said, “like a devouring army” another warned. As you guessed from the blog title, they were talking about a prairie fire. These fires weren’t like anything those from the East had ever seen before. They spread quickly and could burn a length of 600 feet in a minute and burn as hot as 700 degrees Fahrenheit! Is it any wonder why a fire was one of the most feared natural and manmade disasters? 

 

PHOTOGRAPH BY KYLE MODERHAK, MYSHOT

 

But as I was researching these fires for a book, I learned some fascinating things. Even though they were deadly, fires played an important role on the prairie. Started on accident by a cookfire or lighting, or on purpose by Native Americans to make a pasture or drive wildlife, wildfires kept the prairie land as it was—a prairie. 

A prairie fire is an important thing needed in the renewal of a prairie. I had no idea until I started to research that. Without it, the wide open spaces would become a forest or filled with brush. Interestingly, the fire does not destroy prairie grasses. That’s why they grow back so quickly. As the fast moving fires went across, the base survived. Where the grasses grow actually lives underground, and the root systems can sometimes be fifteen feet deep, which means they survive these devastating fires.

 

Photo from Urbana Park District

While those new to the prairies might not have known how important the fire was for the prairie’s existence, they knew, without a doubt, how dangerous it was. In A Journey for Leah, Leah has joined a wagon train and experiences one of these fires first hand. 

While today, prairie fires that are started, either accidentally or on purpose are usually able to be controlled, back in the 1800s, it really was a matter of life or death. It would be impossible to outrun a fire and it’s terrible to think about. 

Here’s a small excerpt from that scene in A Journey for Leah: 

 

        All around them, men and women were rushing to the wagons and pulling out tools. Children were rushing to the stream, the older ones holding the small ones in the water, while those large enough to help were grabbing buckets to fill with water.

         “I don’t understand,” Leah said, as Stanley pulled out a shovel and some sacks. “What’s happening?”

         He pointed to the distance, where a near endless line of smoke filled the air. “Fire. We won’t outrun it. When a prairie fire starts, it spreads fast. All we can do is try to prevent it from getting any closer.” He pointed to a few dozen feet away, where men were starting to dig a trench. “We need to make a barrier, one deep enough and wide enough the fire can’t cross.”

         Leah felt cold then. That’s why the youngest children were in the water. It was to save their lives. 

 

Creating a firebreak was the only thing that could be done back then. It made watchful eyes, care with fire, and tools such as a plow an absolute necessity. It was much harder back then to create a firebreak. They didn’t have machines like we do, to do the job quickly. That’s one of the things I admire so much about the men and women who came before us, they made good use of what they had and, to be completely honest, built things that would last and were of better quality than we have!

While fire doesn’t appear too often in my books, I know it was a real concern, and I’m grateful for the chance this gave me to do a little research. 

A Journey for Leah is available in ebook, paperback, large print, and human narrated audiobook, if you’d like to keep reading. 

 

 

Since it’s my very first time blogging here, and I’m likely a new to you author, I’d love to give away an ebook of A Journey for Leah to one reader. You can enter just by leaving a comment telling me something you enjoy about historical romance books, and a random winner via number generator will be chosen.

Wyoming’s Sheep Queen, Lucy Morrison Moore

Lucy Fellows was born in 1857 in Placer County California to gold seeking parents. At five years old, she traveled on a pack mule to Illinois, then back to Virginia City, Montana and Bannock, Idaho, both gold producing areas. Her parents then moved the family to Soda Springs, Idaho. Once there, Lucy’s father started a freight hauling business.

Luther Morrison was a family friend who accompanied the Fellows family to Soda Springs. He had traveled the Oregon trail at the age of 20 and served as an Idaho Territory legislator and ran a sheep operation. Despite the age difference–Luther was 44 and Lucy was 16 when they married–they had a great partnership. Over the next nine years, they had three daughters and grew their herd to 3,000 sheep.

The Morrisons moved to Wyoming Territory in 1881 with an infant, two very young daughters and 2,000 sheep. They wintered in the South Pass area, and while the family survived the brutal Wyoming winter, they lost all but 200 sheep. After that year they established a winter range and summer range and began rebuilding their bands.  They family, which eventually welcomed a boy, lived in a tent banked with dirt for four years. Lucy didn’t see another white woman for over five years, but she was a woman who enjoyed a nomadic life, and happily lived in a sheep wagon during the summer months and eventually in the cabin that Luther built during the winters.

Luther made the three-week roundtrip to Rawlings, 150 miles away, twice a year for supplies, leaving Lucy at home to deal with the small children and sheep. She was afraid of the Native Americans and when they would pass through the area, she would dot her and the children’s faces with flour and say they had smallpox. The Native Americans caught on after a number of bouts of “smallpox”, and told Lucy, in English, that she was a smart woman. After that, they left her alone.

Lucy was a Methodist and did not allow swearing or drinking in her home or in the sheep camps. Her children were taught to read and write and the older children went to private schools.

Luther died in 1898, leaving Lucy to run the sheep alone. At the time, she had 16 large bands of sheep, but halved the number in 1900. In 1902 she married one of her shepherds, Curtis Moore, a man who didn’t drink or curse. She gifted him a band of 1000 sheep, saying that it meant she married “a sheepman instead of a penniless shepherd.”

Lucy was involved in the range wars between the sheep and cattlemen. Sheep ranching boomed after 1897 and became Wyoming’s primary industry by 1910. There was no system for leasing of land, and cattlemen believed that sheep were ruining grazing by eating the grass too low to the ground. In 1897, Lucy’s horses were shot. In 1904, her son, Lincoln was shot. He lived, and Lucy offered a $3500 reward for the capture of the shooter. Eventually she hired a private detective to find the man, who was apprehended in Montana ten years after the shooting. The range wars continued and in 1909, three sheepmen were killed south of Ten Sleep, Wyoming. Lucy feared for her life, but she continued running sheep. By this time she was called The Sheep Queen of Wyoming by the locals, a title she first thought was derisive, but eventually came to love.

Lucy might have been a nomad at times, but she also enjoyed the finer things in life. She took her children to Europe, bought one of the first vehicles in Wyoming,  and eventually allowed the oil industry to lease land for derricks. She invested in land near Los Angeles and began to spend the winters in a sunnier climate while her son looked after the sheep.

An author, Caroline Lockhart, spend the summer of 1919 with Lucy in the sheep camps. She wrote a bestseller called The Fighting Shepherdess, loosely based on Lucy’s life, which was made into a movie by MGM in 1920.

Lucy suffered a stroke in 1930 and died in 1932 in Casper, Wyoming. Her husband sold the sheep operation and moved to California.