Frontier Women

“Wash Day Monday”

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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

 

 

 

 

 

The Women Who Ran the Range and a Giveaway!

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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!

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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?


Purchase Link 

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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Special project! The Legacy of Rocking K Ranch

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I have a novella collection releasing in January.

This is a fun ‘extra’ I found time to do and I realized I haven’t talked about it.

Next month we go Christmas-y…but maybe I can work The Legacy of Rocking K Ranch into the Christmas fun.

Then BOOM January 1, here comes the book!

I’d better at least MENTION it this month.

The Legacy of Rocking K Ranch is something I’ve wanted to do myself for a long time, but it’s just never quite worked out.

That is, take a dynastic western family and follow them through the generations.

Start when they first go west on the Oregon Trail maybe, then found a ranch. Next raise up some tough cowboys and cowgirls.

Just follow them generation after generation. I AM TELLING YOU I THOUGHT OF THIS BEFORE YELLOWSTONE! I SWEAR!

When a chance came to team up with three other authors and do this, I jumped at it, and it became the Legacy of Rocking K Ranch.

I wrote this a long time ago…maybe before Covid even. And kinda forgot about it. The release date was first probably not even going to happen, then all of a sudden it’s back on…where’d I put that book again?

And now, finally, here it is. My book is the beginning. Then Darcie Gruger has the child from my book all grown up.

Next is Becca Whitham then on to Kimberley Woodhouse whose story is the next generation looking back at where she came from, and finding her own future through the strength of her forebearers. Especially the women.

The Legacy of Rocking K Ranch

Six Decades of History Unfurls on a Wyoming Ranch
 
Journey to untamed Wyoming where four generations of women experience love, loss, grace, adoption, struggles with the law, relationships with natives, and through it all, family bonds.
 
Eleanor by Mary Connealy   
1850 – Wagon train guide, Ray “Wild Cat” Manning, can’t ignore the abandoned wagon stricken with smallpox. Eleanor Yates, now widowed with an ailing daughter, says yes to Wild Cat’s marriage of convenience. It is her only choice—but far from her romantic dreams.
 
Grace by D. J. Gudger   
1867 – Grace Manning abandons her journey east at Fort Laramie. The ranch is where she belongs. Unable to reach her father, Grace scrambles to find a way home. Captain Winfield Cooper is mustering out in a few short days. The gold fields at South Pass City are calling but a lonely laundress pleads to tag along with him and his motley men. Will this woman who refuses to unveil her face derail his dreams? 
 
Caroline by Becca Whitham       
1886 – Ray Cooper escaped reservation life by pursuing a degree from Harvard, but it hasn’t granted him the respect he craves in Washington, DC. Caroline Forrester longs to be more than a society hostess for her father. As the two fight against the Dawes Act, they also fight their growing attraction.
 
Penelope by Kimberley Woodhouse  
1910 – Penelope Cooper, an ambitious writer, is commissioned by her publisher—and future husband—to present tales of the American West. She returns to her family’s ranch in Wyoming along with photographer, Jason Miller, to interview the women of her family. But will rediscovering her past make Penelope reconsider her future?

Are you watching Yellowstone?

Do you like books that come from history and go all the way to more modern times?

Leave a comment to get your name in a drawing for a $25 Amazon gift card.

And have a wonderful THANKSGIVING!!!!!!

 

 

Women Earning a Living in the 19th Century from Charlene Raddon

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A big welcome to Charlene Raddon who is joining us today to talk about jobs women could have in the 1800s.

Women in the 1800s could not make contracts, own property or vote. A woman was seen as a servant to her husband. However, by the 1830s and 1840, that began to change when they started to champion social reforms of prisons, war, alcohol, and slavery. But life remained difficult for them. Jobs were scarce and often unbearable. 

In 1841, the census included occupations and provided some of the best information about working women, but it was more accurate for men. Women’s work was often part-time, casual, and not regarded as important enough to declare. 

It might have been illegal (as with prostitution) or performed in unregulated sweatshops (a further reason for failure to record). Women may have preferred their husbands not know they earned any income. They could earn small amounts at home by sewing, mending, knitting, canning, spinning, lacemaking, quilting, and even box-making. 

Female employment in the 1850s, 60s, and 70s appears to have been higher than any recorded until after World War II. Family budget evidence suggests that around 30-40 percent of women from working-class families contributed significantly to household incomes in the mid-Victorian years. This might have been even higher during the Industrial Revolution decades, before the rise of State and trade union policies regulating female labor and the promotion of the male as the ideal breadwinner. After the Industrial Revolution in the U.S. some women worked in factories, sometimes with their children. In 1840, 10% of women had jobs outside the home, and by 1850 that number increased to 15%. 

Domestic service was the largest employer for women, closely followed by work in clothing and textiles. Other jobs included confectioner, brewer, seamstress, laundress, maid, housekeeper, waitress, midwife, gardener, dressmaker, charwoman, clerk, and innkeeper. In some areas, they worked in mines alongside children, dirty, unhealthy, miserable labor. 

For my heroine in Maisy’s Gamble, dealing faro in saloons proved a better choice for its earning power and safety since her nemesis considered ordinary saloons beneath him. Being born in a brothel and raised in a gutter gave Gold Kingsley an exaggerated disdain for the type of life his mother lived. Maisy used this to her advantage. 

Dealing faro also allowed her to move around a lot, making her more difficult to find. She spent her adult years raising her son and finding ways to evade Gold. But time is against us all, and she knew he would find her someday. Fortunately, that day waited until the hero, The Preacher, came into her life. 

The Preacher spent his adult years allowing the vagaries of life to rule him. That ended once Maisy entered his life. Bonded by a common enemy and the need to stay alive, Maisy and Preacher joined forces to battle Gold, but only time could calculate their odds of winning the biggest gamble of their lives. 

 

EXCERPT: 

In this scene, a patron in the saloon where Maisy works is mistreating his dog. 

On impulse, Maisy stood and said, “Play me for him, Mr. Siddens. One hand of Draw. I’ll wager twenty dollars I can beat you. If you lose, the animal is mine, and you leave Pandora.” 

Crude laughter burst out of the man, splattering her with spit. “Ya joshing me, Maisy? He ain’t worth a plugged nickel.” 

Marshal  Harker moved to her side. “What are you doing?” 

She ignored him. “Well, Mr. Siddens…?” 

The drunken bully looked from her to the marshal and shrugged. “Why not? I don’t mind takin’ money from a woman.” 

Harker leaned close and whispered, “He’s drunk and cheats.” 

“I know. Don’t worry. I can beat him.” 

Shaking his head, the marshal lifted his hands in resignation. “Fine. One hand of Draw. But win or lose, Mr. Siddens, you’re done tonight.” 

“Whatever ya say, Marshal.” With that, Siddens righted the chair he’d knocked over, sat down, and gathered up the scattered pasteboards. 

Taking the opposite seat, Maisy drew a sealed deck from her skirt pocket. “You don’t truly think I’d let you use your cards, do you? I’ve known too many gamblers who cheat.” 

“Why, you…” He raised a hand, ready once more to strike out. At the cocking of a six-gun, Siddens dropped his arm and sat back. 

Maisy looked up surprised to see Preacher slip his Colt back into its holster. He tipped his hat, and she acknowledged it with a nod. Why had he protected her? Did it mean he didn’t work for Gold, or had Gold ordered that she be kept alive until he got his hands on her? 

“Maisy?” Jake said, bringing her back to herself. 

Determined to finish what she’d started, she reached into the small drawstring purse dangling from her wrist to find a gold eagle, which she placed on the table. 

Eyeing the coin, Siddens sneered, “Want me ta put the dawg on the table, too?” 

She forced a smile. “We’ll just pretend, shall we?” She shuffled and offered him the deck to cut. After dealing, she picked up her cards. An ace, two jacks, a ten, and a five. After setting the ten and the five aside, she placed the remaining three cards face down on the table. “How many would you like, Mr. Siddens?” 

“Three shiny new ones,” he said, tossing down his discards. 

She dealt the cards. “Dealer takes two.” 

Aware of the mob gathered around the table, Maisy let her eyes roam the faces, quickly passing over Preacher’s. The spectators murmured among themselves, and money exchanged hands. 

“Well, Mr. Siddens, what do you have?” she asked. 

He grinned as he spread out three queens on the table. “Three ladies. Can’t top that, now can ya, sugar?” He laughed and swapped grins with a few men. 

She smiled and laid down her cards—three aces and two jacks—a full house. 

“What the…?” Siddens leaped to his feet. “Marshal, arrest her. She musta cheated.” 

Jake gave his head a firm shake. “No, she’s just a damned fine player.” 

Grumbles erupted from losers as bets were paid off. Maisy called for paper and a pencil. When they arrived, she set them in front of Siddens and ordered him to write out a bill of sale. 

“Bill o’ sale!” he ranted. “I didn’t sell the mutt. I got cheated out o’ ‘im.” 

“Write.” 

Siddens did. “Damned dawg ain’t no good nohow.” 

The crowd dispersed. A deputy appeared to escort the gambler from the saloon. 

Back at her table, she settled the dog on the floor in the warmth of the stove and called for food scraps and a wet cloth to clean the animal’s wounds. “I think I’ll call you Hock,” she told him, “after the last card played in a hand of faro. When we go home, you’ll meet Soda. She’s named after the first card played.” 

He wagged his tail as if he approved. 

Jake Harker returned and took his usual seat, grinning at her. “Dammit, Maisy, I can’t believe you pulled that off. That piece of crap is a good card player, even without cheating.” 

“Yes, well, two can play at that game.” 

He stared at her a moment. “You mean what I think you mean?” Leaning forward, he gave her a stern look. “Did you cheat, Maisy?” 

Avoiding his gaze, she began arranging her faro gear on the table. “Someone had to get the poor animal away from him. He’s a brute, and you know it.” 

Charlene is giving away two prizes today!

To enter for a chance to win a copy of Maisy’s Gamble OR a $5 Amazon gift card, just share what type of work you might have done if you’d lived in the 1800s!

 

Charlene Raddon is a bestselling author of Western historical romance novels. Originally published by Kensington Books, she is now an Indie author. She grew up on old western movies and loved them, but never intended to be a writer. That part of her life just happened. Besides writing and reading, she raises orchids, designs book covers, and crochets. 

http://www.amazon.com/Charlene-Raddon/e/B000APG1P8?tag=pettpist-20/
https://twitter.com/craddon
http://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddon
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1232154.Charlene_Raddon
http://www.silversagebookcovers.com
https://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddonwesternbooks

Minnie Freeman & the Schoolchildren’s Blizzard ~ by Pam Crooks

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I’m a Nebraska girl, born and bred. Never lived anywhere else. So when I was browsing through one of my research books on American history, one story in particular, titled “Nebraska’s Fearless Maid,” caught my interest.

The winter of 1888 was brutal for its blizzards, and the one on January 12, 1888, was no different. The relatively warm morning showed no hint of snow, and Minnie Freeman was teaching school like any other day in her small sod schoolhouse in Mira Valley, Nebraska. Mid-afternoon, sudden 45 mph winds came up and blew the door in. As Minnie helped her thirteen pupils bundle up in their coats and hats, raging winds blew the windows in and ripped off the roof. Snow dumped from dark, dense clouds and whirled over the Nebraska and South Dakota prairie, quickly obliterating nearby landmarks.

Minnie could not simply wait out the storm. Her schoolhouse was falling apart, and she had to get the children to safer shelter. Having confiscated a ball of twine from one mischievous boy earlier that day, Minnie tied all the children together in a group, leashing them to her own body. Holding the youngest in her arms, a girl of about five, she set out into the gale-force winds with biting sleet and trudged 3/4 of a mile to the nearest home, all the while coaxing the children to keep walking and not to be afraid.

Minnie Freeman and her students in front of the sod house school.

In truth, exhaustion was setting in for Minnie from the rigors of holding the little girl, constant encouragements to the others, and the very real worries they could get lost. But thankfully, they made it to the farm house and safety.

Temperatures dipped to 40 degrees below zero that night, and the storm raged for twelve hours. Because of the storm’s timing during the school day, and that so many were caught unaware, the blizzard of January 12, 1888, has been dubbed the “Schoolchildren’s Blizzard” and is still remembered to this day.

Unfortunately, for some parents in the area, it would be several days before they could learn if their children survived–and some didn’t.

“I’ve never felt such a wind,” she told a reporter from the Ord Quiz, a local newspaper, shortly after the disaster. “It blew the snow so hard that the flakes stung your face like arrows. All you could see ahead of you was a blinding, blowing sheet of snow.”

Minnie was hailed a hero after the ordeal. Newspapers across the nation picked up her story and celebrated her actions, netting her – get this! – 200 proposals of marriage. School-children as far away as Boston wrote essays in her honor, but perhaps the most enduring accolade was a song and chorus written by William Vincent in her honor.

Sheet music for the Victorian parlor song by the composer William Vincent, “Thirteen Were Saved; Or Nebraska’s Fearless Maid.”

Today, Mira Valley is a ghost town located in north-central Nebraska, near present-day Ord, and Minnie’s heroics is a testament to the selfless dedication teachers show every day.

Have you ever experienced a scary weather-related incident?

Love on Target – Pink Pistol Sisterhood Book 2

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Years ago, when I first inquired about being a guest author on the Petticoats & Pistols blog, I had a fan-girl moment when Karen Witemeyer replied to me. I’ve been a fan of her books since I first discovered them!

She was so gracious and welcomed me with kindness. I admired the women who were part of this group and wished I could be one of their “Fillies” too.

Sometimes wishes do come true! In 2017, I was invited to join them as a regular author, and I’ve loved being one of the Fillies in their corral of western authors. So, when Pam and Karen started kicking around the idea of a legacy project for Petticoats & Pistols, something we could all participate in, I was excited at the prospect. Then the decision was made to tie the stories in our series to Annie Oakley, which made it even better.

In case you’ve missed all the announcements, our joint endeavor is called the Pink Pistol Sisterhood. Eleven of us have written sweet western romances, all tied to the journey of a pink-handled pistol that Annie passes on to the heroine in the first book, which just happens to be written by Karen. Make sure you read In Her Sights! It releases March 30!

Captain Cavedweller happened to be in an antique shop last fall and found a book about Annie Oakley that he knew I needed to have. Written in 1981 by Isabelle S. Sayers, Annie Oakley and Buffalo Bill’s Wild West from Dover Publications features more than a hundred photos, illustrations, posters and advertisements. Being able to see so many visuals of Annie really helped not only clarify in my mind the hero she would be to Rena (my heroine), but also how her influence would help shape Rena’s character in my book (#2 in the series), Love on Target.

When I was thinking about my story and the characters, I knew I wanted it to be set in the town of Holiday, a place that exists only in my imagination, but it’s at the heart of several of my books, both historical and contemporary. (You can read the beginning of the town in Holiday Hope. )

My hero in Love on Target, Josh Gatlin, was a character who had a brief mention in my book Henley. I thought he’d be wonderful for the hero in this story. Since nine years had passed from then, though, I wanted him to have experienced love and loss, and it provided a perfect way to include the character of his five-year-old daughter, Gabi.

Rena is strong and courageous, but she’s also soft-hearted, and whether she admitted it or not, she really, really just wanted someone to accept her for who she was, scars and all, and love her.

Here’s one of my favorite scenes from the book!

~*~

“Laura has lost her mind if she believes all this romantic nonsense,” Rena groused as she returned the letter to the pocket in the case and set Laura’s letter aside to tuck into the packet of letters she’d kept from both of her cousins over the years.

“Of all the silly, pretentious …” A snort rolled out of her. “True love my foot. I’m more likely to lasso the moon than I am to fall in love because I held this gun. Although, it is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.”

She started to close the case, but changed her mind and lifted out the pistol. The thought that the gun had been in the possession of her hero, Annie Oakley, made her long to shoot it. Just once.

With a plan in mind, Rena set aside the case, tugged on her boots, and rushed down the ladder. She gathered a pocket full of cartridges and her pistol in the gun belt, which was the same caliber as the pink-handled weapon, and headed outside. She stopped by the woodpile and selected a large slab of bark that had fallen off a chunk of wood, then went to the barn where she painted a red heart on the bark, then added a white circle in the center of it.

She experienced an almost giddy sensation as she carried the bark and the pistols to what had once served as a corral. The whole thing needed to be rebuilt, which was on Theo’s long list of tasks he wanted to finish before summer arrived.

Rena knew he wouldn’t care if she practiced her shooting there since there was nothing behind the fence she could damage.

She used a nail to hang the bark on the fence, then retreated to the burn pile by the outhouse where she retrieved half a dozen tin cans that had once held peaches. It had been a while since she’d practiced shooting targets.

To make sure she hadn’t lost the skill, she lined up the cans on fence posts on either side of the heart she’d painted on the bark, took out her pistol, moved back several yards, and loaded rounds into the cylinder.

After widening her stance, she lined up her first shot, released a breath, and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the bullet pinging the target rang out as the can flew backward off the post. Rena shot the remaining cans, then smiled with satisfaction as she climbed over the fence to retrieve them. She set them back up on the posts, rested for a minute on the top pole of the fence, face turned to the sunshine as she soaked up the warmth. Then she hopped down and riddled the cans full of more holes before she stowed her gun in the gun belt and draped it over a fence post, then took the pistol with the delicate pink handle from where she’d set it on a stump.

“Promise of true love,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the handle before she loaded five shots in the revolver and took aim at the target she’d painted. “True love. What an absurd notion. Laura really should mind her own business and cease meddling in mine. If she thinks this gun will lead me to romance, she needs to have her thinker checked for defects. Instead of dreaming of true love, setting love on target seems like a much better idea.”

She blasted five holes in the middle of the white circle she’d painted inside the heart on the slab of bark, taking a great deal of satisfaction in blasting holes into something that represented romance and love, at least in her mind.

“Now that’s some fine shooting, Miss Burke.”

Rena yelped in surprise and spun around, pistol still in her hand as she pointed it at the intruder who dared to interrupt her target practice.

 

 

Will romance hit its mark when true love is the target?

Desperate for a fresh start, Rena Burke journeys from Texas to Oregon with only her father’s pistol and a plodding old mule for company. She takes a job working with explosives at a mine, spends her free time emulating her hero Annie Oakley, and secretly longs to be loved.

Saddle maker Josh Gatlin has one purpose in life and that is his daughter. Gabi is his joy and the sunshine in his days. Then he meets a trouser-wearing woman living life on her own terms. Rena is nothing like his perception of what he wants in a wife and mother for his child, but she might just prove to be everything he needs.

When tragedy strikes, will the two of them be able to release past wounds and embrace the possibilities tomorrow may bring? Find out in this sweet historical romance full of hope, humor, and love.

If you were in Rena’s shoes (or boots), what would you do? 

Post your answer for a chance to win a digital copy of Holiday Hope and Henley –

to get you ready to read Love on Target when it releases April 10!

Forged in Love Giveaway!

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I’m doing a giveaway for
Forged in Love
Book #1 of the Wyoming Sunrise Series releasing February 28
When sparks begin to fly, can a friendship cast in iron be shaped into something more?
After surviving a brutal stagecoach robbery, Mariah Stover attempts to rebuild her life as she takes over her father’s blacksmith business, but the townspeople meet her work with disdain. She is drawn to the new diner owner as he faces similar trials in the town. When danger descends upon them, will they survive to build a life forged in love?
Find the book cover: http://cdn.bakerpublishinggroup.com/…/9780764241130.jpg…
Find the excerpt: http://cdn.bakerpublishinggroup.com/…/Excerpts…
Get 30% Off + Free Shipping at Baker Book House: https://bakerbookhouse.com/products/465104
Facebook: Mary Connealy
Instagram: @maryconnealy
BookBub: Mary Connealy
It’s finally here! After a year of googling Women’s Suffrage and all related topics to bring Forged in Love to life!!! It hits the shelves next week!!!
My tough wild west blacksmith begins banging iron and falling in love on February 28th
She’s against type more than most any other character I’ve created, second in line, that comes to mind is a western painter from Wrangler in Petticoats. A guy painting in the old west, now that was a weird one.
I’m doing a giveaway. Leave a comment about how it suits you to read about characters are out of the ordinary.
Do you like damsels in distress…although honest, Mariah’s in danger so in a sense, tough as she is, she’s in some distress.
Do you like heroes that protect a weaker woman?
What are your favorite kind of heroes and heroines?
I’ll draw a name from the comments to win a copy of Forged in Love

Fortune Hunting in the Old West

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By Linda Shenton Matchett

Thanks to the Homestead Act of 1862, the West was populated by farmers and ranchers who took their chances with 160 acres and a dream. But from 1828 in Georgia through the early 1900s in Alaska, thousands more flocked across the U.S. and its territories seeking their fortune.

Have you seen photographs of those intrepid miners: scruffy-looking, bearded men in dirt-encrusted garments, a man wearing a broad smile and holding a lump of ore, and men on mules or standing in a river gripping what looks like an oversized dinner plate? If you look further, you might stumble on pictures of women in these same poses.

You didn’t misread that last sentence. A small percentage of women worked alongside the men who converged on the the gold, silver, and copper fields. The reasons for the women’s presence are as varied as the women themselves. Some came with husbands, fathers, or brothers, then stayed after said male relative died. Other ladies were already in the area and decided to give mining a go. Still others heard about the possibilities for riches and were adventuresome enough to try mining on their own. A few came out of desperation.

 

However, men were not happy to have the women “horn in” on their domain, so many of the ladies dressed as men to blend in or fool their competitors. Apparently, the practice was so common during the California gold rush that when a newspaper photographer advertised for a “lad” to help him, he specified that “no women in disguise need apply.”

Widespread prejudice from the men made life as a female prospector difficult. Claim jumping and stealing by the men were common practices among themselves, but some reports indicate it may have been worse for the ladies. The women also had a tough time selling the claims they did keep. Then it became official when the United States National Bureau of Mines banned the women from mining in 1915. But still they persevered.

                           Fanny Quigley Home

Because of the lack of sources, it is unknown how many women prospectors were successful, but there are articles and books about some of the more “colorful” characters such as Fannie Quigley who started her career as a dance hall girl, then headed to the Alaskan gold fields to cook for the miners.

She eventually staked her first claim in 1907, going on to own twenty-five more. Her personal life was less successful-she left two husbands during her search for gold. Then there’s Lillian Malcom (also part of the Klondike rush) who was a Broadway actress. Several of her claims were stolen by men, so she moved to Nevada, acting out her Alaskan adventures along the way to fund her journey. The picture below is of a gold nugget in 1920.

Panning for gold the old-fashioned way is a simple, yet backbreaking process of scooping gravel from a river into a pan, swirling and dipping the pan to let the current carry most of the silt away, then repeating the action until there are about three tablespoons of sand from which to pick out the eyelash-sized flakes. And just in case you’re wondering, prospectors typically worked from sunup to sundown.

Would you have taken your chances as a prospector in the Old West?

I WILL GIVE AWAY AN EBOOK EDITION OF GOLD RUSH BRIDE HANNAH TO ONE RANDOMLY SELECTED COMMENTER.

About

Gold Rush Bride Hannah

(Book 1, Gold Rush Brides):

A brand-new widow, she 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?

Purchase Link:  Linda Shenton Matchett, author of

History, Hope and Happily Ever After

Linda Shenton Matchett Website

Women can be feminine and still be downright dangerous.

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Heather Blanton

Hey, y’all! It’s an honor and a thrill to be back visiting you here at Petticoats and Pistols. You know, the name of this blog says it all. At least for me. Women can be feminine and still be downright dangerous.

My new book, A Scout for Skyler, from the Mail-Order Mama series, has been described as Pride and Prejudice meets The Beverly Hillbillies.

Yes, it’s a comedy, but my heroine, Priscilla Jones, was written as a serious tribute to some of the most amazing pioneer women in American history.

Over the years, my research has introduced me to some gals who defied expectations and overcame some impossible situations. Sometimes, it was life-and-death. Other times, it was a matter of life—hers, and how she wanted to live it.

As I was writing A Scout for Skyler, I had these historical figures in my head:

Of course, when we think of rough-and-rowdy frontier women, the first one to come to mind should be Calamity Jane. She lived in a man’s world. Smoke, drank, chewed, and fought with the best of them.

Orphaned at twelve, left to care for five brothers and sisters, Calamity did not shirk her duty. Most likely she did work as a prostitute early on to provide for the family. She left the lifestyle behind, though, by learning to shoot and throw a respectable punch. Everyone who knew Calamity did respect her courage and her kindness. She rescued a runaway stage from a Cheyenne war party and nursed some Deadwood residents back to health during a smallpox epidemic. The only thing Calamity couldn’t do was win Hickock’s heart.

Susan McSween watched her husband get gunned down in the street during the Lincoln County War. Livid over his murder by a US Army colonel in cahoots with the Murphy-Dolan gang, she stayed in town and hired an attorney to fight for justice. He was soon murdered, as well. Susan still didn’t back down or leave. She changed tactics. She figured out the best way to get back at the corrupt forces in Lincoln County was to hit them in the pocketbook.

Susan McSween was a shrewd businesswoman and she put all her efforts into frustrating her nemesis, James Dolan. Eventually, she became the Cattle Queen of New Mexico, at one point running nearly 5,000 head of cattle. Best of all, she outlived all her enemies.

And I thought of Nancy Hart, a patriot on the frontier of North Georgia. The Cherokee named her War Woman because she was fearless and an accurate shot (even with crossed eyes). Her real legend came about when she killed six British soldiers with their own guns.

Six.

I could go on and on. The women who built this country were tough, stubborn, and courageous. Suffice it to say, the things my girl Priscilla Jones does in A Scout for Skyler—she’s totally capable of them. Because real heroines have gone before her.

My hero, Captain Corbett, is an arrogant Scotsman who believes women should have babies not opinions. How well do you think an attitude like that would have gone over with the rough-and-tumble Calamity Jane, or the fiery, refined Susan McSween?

In A Scout for Skyler, all these ladies have a voice, and the story was a hoot to write. Talk about fireworks and sassy dialogue.

A Scout for Skyler is part of the multi-author series, Mail-Order Mama. All the stories are stand-alones but have one thing in common: the mail-order bride is a surprise. I hope you’ll check them all out.

To buy a copy of A Scout for Skyler click here.

To visit Heather’s website click here.

GIVEAWAY!! Today, I’d like to give TWO random commenters ebooks of A Scout for Skyler. So, tell me, do you have a favorite heroine from history? Belle Starr, Amelia Earhart? Pocahontas? Or…?