Color is all around us and writers use a lot of color in telling a story. Readers visualize the characters knowing the color of their eyes, hair, and clothes. Animals, landscape, foods–it’s impossible to write a story without using the various shades and hues.
There’s a reason why hospitals use a lot of blue, churches employ white, firetrucks are red, and nobility wear purple.
Here’s a little of what I discovered:
WHITE – purity, innocence, and wisdom. i.e. angels
BLACK – negativity and judgment
RED – energy, vigor, power, strength
PINK – love and compassion
PURPLE – royalty, blending of mind and spirit, uplifts
BLUE – prime healing color, relaxation, sleep, peace
BROWN – the earth, commitment
GREEN – balance and harmony, sensitivity, abundance
YELLOW – the emotional self, cleansing, creativity
ORANGE – cheerful and uplifting, warmth
TURQUOISE – brotherhood, friendly, the color of the freed soul
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My new book – THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE’S SECRET – will release on Jan. 28th. This is Book 3 of my Outlaw Mail Order Bride series and tells Tait Trinity’s and Melanie Dunbar’s story.
Melanie has turquoise (green/blue) eyes and Tait describes them as the color of ancient stones. His eyes are an icy gray, the color of quicksilver. Her hair is red and his sun-streaked brown. Color says a lot about these two.
Tait is an outlaw and has a large bounty on his head for a string of train robberies so when his sister’s twin boys and four-year-old daughter appear on his doorstep, he’s totally unprepared for the responsibility. The last thing he needs are children to raise, yet he can’t let them go to an orphanage. His friends advise him to send for the mail order bride he’s been writing, but when she arrives, she’s nothing like what he expects.
Melanie is thrown as well to see there are kids involved. She lets him know right off that she’s not going to be his nanny, housekeeper, laundress, or cook while he rides out and stays gone for weeks or months at a time. Wife is the role she’s agreed to, but she comes with secrets—big juicy ones.
How long will it be before Tait figures out her true reason for marrying him? And he does.
I hope you give this book a try. The children provide ample humor and the ending is the most powerful I’ve ever written. The old western series Paradise provided a lot of inspiration. Book 4 will release the end of the year and complete the series with Ridge Steele and Addie Jancy.
Question: How does color affect your life? Do you have a favorite and why?
Giveaway: Two people who comment will win a copy (their choice of format.)
Sometimes a book creates a life of its own and the author simply goes along for the ride. That’s the case with my January release, The Mail Order Bride’s Secret (Book #3 Outlaw Mail Order Brides.) Outlaw Tait Trinity finds himself the guardian to twin nephews and a four-year-old niece. He doesn’t want the job but it seems he’s the last resort.
What did a wanted man with a price on his head do with three children?
He takes his friend’s advice and sends for a mail order bride and she can’t come soon enough.
Yet, when Melanie Dunbar arrives with a whiskey flask in her pocket and a secret agenda, the woman gambler is anything but childrearing material.
This is the biggest gamble of her life and it’s anyone’s guess how it turns out.
I got the inspiration for this story from the old western series Paradise that starred Lee Horsley. That series was fresh and different. If memory serves, there were four children and they were a bit older. But Ethan Cord shares a lot of similarities with Tait Trinity. Both have a violent past and an unsure future with the law breathing down their necks.
Although married life gets off to a rocky start, Melanie is committed to making it work—at least until she gets the stolen money to save her sister. She just didn’t count on the children worming their way into her heart and falling in love with her handsome husband.
Plans have a way of changing for both Tait and Melanie.
This story has a lot of twists and turns and just when you think you have it all figured out, it takes off in a new direction. I think readers will love this story of love, redemption, and hope.
This book releases on January 28, 2020 and is available for preorder. The fourth and final book of this series will come out later in the year.
Hi everyone. Jennifer Uhlarik here. Have you ever thought of what traveling along the Oregon Trail is like? While I am fascinated with the idea of our forefathers traveling months along the path to make a life in the wilds of Oregon or other western places, the thought of being that far from civilization—particularly someplace to replenish supplies—is a frightening one. Keeping it real here: I live 2 miles from the grocery store, and it’s waaaaayyyyyy too easy for me to wait until 5 pm some nights to decide what I’m making for dinner, then rush off to the store for supplies. Our ancestors on the Oregon Trail didn’t have such luxuries! They had to pack enough stores to do life until they reached a trading post or fort to buy more.
So how did these trading posts get their start and what were they like?
As early as the 1500’s, French and English fishermen were sailing to the coast of Newfoundland to fish for cod. It was here that they encountered some local Indian tribes who were anxious to trade for metal goods. In order to obtain the iron pots, pans, knives and tools they coveted, the Indians offered beaver pelts, which they could provide in great quantities. It took the fishermen little time to sell the pelts once they returned home, and people quickly realized that the soft underfur of a beaver pelt made a wonderful felt for hat-making. With a growing demand for beaver pelts, both France and England began to explore North America with the intent to colonize it. Not long after, France began setting up trading posts in Quebec. Of course, England’s Hudson Bay Company moved into the area as well, sending traders and trappers across parts of Canada and the American frontier. Wherever they went, Hudson Bay Company set up trading posts to barter with the native population.
As life on the frontier changed from a focus on the fur trade to a focus on Westward Expansion, many of the old trading posts lived on. The owners of the posts continued to trade with the Indian tribes, but they also became outposts where white travels and settlers could get supplies. These small outposts provided staples like coffee, tea, rice, tins of hardtack biscuits, dried fruit, or canned goods. They also offered tools and utensils, such as cast iron pots, kettles, knives, and axes, saddles, and flint and steel for starting fires. Customers could trade for textiles, such as beaver-felt hats, blankets, bandanas, ribbon, thread, needles, and fabric. Ornamental or decorative supplies were commonly found, anything from silver to beads and beyond. And of course, guns, ammunition, and other shooting supplies were a common item found in these trading posts.
I’m sure you can imagine, life on the frontier could be lonely and supplies might be hard to come by. You had to learn to live with what you had…and make do until you could restock. Often, these trading posts were lifesavers, keeping people from starving or doing without until they reached the next major stop on their journey west. Or they might have prevented settlers from having to make a long trek to the nearest town or city, which might be days or weeks away. They certainly weren’t as convenient as today’s 7-Eleven, but I’m betting they were welcome stopovers to more than a few of our ancestors.
It’s your turn: If you had lived in times past, would you have liked to live on the frontier where a trading post might be your nearest source of supplies, or would you have preferred to live in a town or city? I’ll be giving away one paperback copy of The Oregon Trail Romance Collection to one reader who leaves a comment.
Jennifer Uhlarik discovered the western genre as a pre-teen when she swiped the only “horse” book she found on her older brother’s bookshelf. A new love was born. Across the next ten years, she devoured Louis L’Amour westerns and fell in love with the genre. In college at the University of Tampa, she began penning her own story of the Old West. Armed with a B.A. in writing, she has finaled and won in numerous writing competitions, and been on the ECPA best-seller list several times. In addition to writing, she has held jobs as a private business owner, a schoolteacher, a marketing director, and her favorite—a full-time homemaker. Jennifer is active in American Christian Fiction Writers, Women Writing the West, and is a lifetime member of the Florida Writers Association. She lives near Tampa, Florida, with her husband, college-aged son, and four fur children. Follow Jennifer at bit.ly.UhlarikNews
The Oregon Trail Romance Collection
Nine romantic adventures take readers along for a ride on the Oregon Trail where daily challenges force travelers to evaluate the things that are most precious to them—including love. Enjoy the trip through a fascinating part of history through the eyes of remarkably strong characters who stop at famous landmarks along the way. Watch as their faith is strengthened and as love is born despite unique circumstances. Discover where the journey ends for each of nine couples.
Courting in your ancestors’ days was entirely different from now. Suitors first called on the girl’s father and got his permission and a time was set. There was no pulling up in front of the house and honking the horn. Nope. There were rules to be obeyed.
At the appointed time of the young man’s arrival, the father would get out a courting candle—a metal contraption that consisted of a heavy coil. He’d set a taper in it and adjust it by turning the candle to whatever height he saw fit. It was purely at his discretion. He’d then place it either in the parlor or on the porch.
If he liked the suitor, he might set the candle high so it would burn for a while.
If he didn’t approve of the boy, he’d set the candle low.
But whether high or low, when the candle burned down to the top of the coil, time was up and the father would show the young man to the door. If the suitor argued about it, the dad might show him the toe of his boot! I’m sure many a one left that way.
On rare occasions when the suitor met with joyous approval, the father might let a second candle burn after the first was all the way down.
These courting candles were used by rich and poor families alike and set boundaries that must be adhered to. They provided a quiet yet firm reminder that the girl’s father was boss and his word was final.
I sort of like this old tradition where no words needed to be said. The candle spoke loud and clear.
The most recent courting scene that I wrote was in Catch a Texas Star when Roan Penny courted Marley Rose McClain. Duel didn’t much want them to see each other because Roan was a drifter. Roan didn’t like it a lot when Duel told him he’d have to prove he’d stick around. Which he did.
Longing for a Cowboy Christmas is out and I’m so happy. My story, The Christmas Wedding, is about Rebel and Travis from the outlaw town of Hope’s Crossing. To take her mind off the fact that Travis has been captured by a bounty hunter and she hasn’t seen him in months, she and the other women decide to celebrate the Advent and make the entire town the calendar.
Do you have a courting story to share or maybe one in a scene from a book? I’ll give away a copy of Longing for a Cowboy Christmas and will draw the winner on Saturday.
This was what Ruth Smythers, wife of Reverend L.D. Smythers, wrote in 1894 in her advice book for husbands and wives. She went on to tell women that unbridled passion in bed even within marriage was seen as a dangerous pastime and should be avoided at all costs.
“Finding joy in the act and overindulgence can lead to cancer and other illnesses.”
“Refrain from having careers because working is vulgar and demeaning to husbands, declaring him incompetent and unable to provide.”
Furthermore, she instructed the wife to turn a blind eye if a husband strayed because that lifted her marriage burden.
These archaic ideas are too funny and definitely not what any of my characters adhere to. Nor did I.
Jack and Nora in Saving the Mail Order Bride (#2 of Outlaw Mail Order Brides) share a healthy marriage and view each other as equals even down to taking care of the children. Jack loves kids and sees Sawyer and Willow as his own and he adores Nora—even when she dyes his hair blonde.
In The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride (#1 of the series), Clay and Tally struggle to learn how to trust. Both had been betrayed so the lesson didn’t come easy. However, they have no trouble in bed. 🙂
In my years of living, which have been considerable, I have a little advice of my own. However, I don’t claim to be an expert. No, no.
But maybe I’ll do better than Ruth Smythers. Here we go:
Develop mutual respect and make it the cornerstone of your marriage.
Marriage is a partnership.
Share all aspects of your lives. Never keep secrets.
Share the chores and the care of the children.
Share the finances equally.
Never go to bed angry.
Find joy in being together and make time every day.
Have a date night each week or several times a month.
These are just a few things I’ve learned after two marriages. Okay, it’s your turn. What is your advice? I’ll give both books of my Outlaw Mail Order Brides series to one commenter.
The Fillies welcome historical author Gina Danna to the Junction. She has a giveaway at the bottom so leave a comment to get in the drawing.
Last winter in Texas, it was cold enough I pulled out my favorite Polo sweaters to wear and found holes! Moth holes! I pulled a couple more & the little buggers were chomping on most of my Polo and Izod sweaters. They love wool and here they’ve got good – expensive – taste but oh I was sooo mad! What do people do today when this happens? After muttering a few colorful metaphors, the sweater gets tossed, as we’ve become a throwaway society. Broken, buy new! But that’s not how people used to be…
For centuries, many people did not have the wardrobes we have today. Unless you were rich, the majority had a few articles for everyday and one dressy piece for church. During the time of the American Civil War, a great deal of men’s clothing was made of wool. Pants, frockcoats and waistcoats were wool. Why? Because wool is a great durable fabric. Made of tightly woven fibers, it held dirt, mud, and anything else on the surface unlike cotton, which absorbed it. If mud got on wool trousers or skirt, it’d be allowed to dry then a fabric beater, like a carpet beater, would be struck on the item and the dried wool would flake off.
For ladies with those long skirts that hit the floor, what did they do to make them not fray or mar with dirt? Many put a ruffle around the bottom and it took the filth off the streets, sidewalks and home. If it didn’t wash out, the ruffle was torn from the skirt and a new one attached. A new ruffle made of another color or new trims, made the skirt look new. Or they lined the bottom with twill-tape, sewn on the inside so only a glimpse of it showed on the hemline. Colored to match the skirt, this piece saved the hem from dirt and once it was beyond redemption, it was an easy to remove and cheap to replace.
During the Civil War, Southern ladies had to become the Frugal Housewife and find alternatives as the Union naval blockade kept imports out. Therefore, fabric from the North or England wasn’t available, neither were many notions such as stays for corsets, etc. So they redesigned what they had. Fixed their hoops by narrowing them or reverting to corded petticoats. They streamlined their skirts, cutting fabric to repair another area, thus making the skirt not as wide as fashion dictated. Pagoda sleeves were made narrow, cuffs and collars made from other scraps and they reversed the fabric to give it a ‘fresh’ appearance. Women already used shank buttons on their bodices. These buttons were not truly sewn on but the shank went through the slit at the buttonhole and was held there by a ribbon that ran the length of the bodice. To give a change of appearance, they pulled the ribbon, releasing the buttons and they threaded different ones in their place. Quite the ingenious way to make one outfit look like five.
Surprisingly enough, The Gone With The Wind portrayal of using curtains for material wasn’t that far off the norm.
During this time, ladies changed clothing many times a day. During the winter, it may be 3-5 times, summer 7-9 depending. They had their morning gown, working gown, cooking dress, traveling outfit, day dress as well as one for evening supper, evening party and ballgowns. It might sound insane to change but it was a way to keep the outfits cleaner than wearing one all day.
Laundry was a nightmare – an all day affair literally. Washed by hand with a scrub board and soap, it was a task assigned to Mondays. Whites were done in boiling water, colors in cold. Dresses were roughly 7-8 yards of fabric. A big piece to wash so they deconstructed it – bodice from skirt, sleeves from bodice – so smaller pieces to scrub and to dry. Drying was on clothesline outside. Whites placed in sunlight to bleach them whiter; colors turned inside out and hung in the shade to keep from fading. Ironing was with a cast-iron iron like we see for decoration today. It had to warm enough to iron but not hot enough to burn. Regardless of societal class, when they could afford to, they hired a 12 year old to do it for them. I read an account of a lady who wore a new dress in May and didn’t wash it until August! Yet some had to be done and it was much easier to wash collars and cuffs, which get noticeably dirty.
But what about those moth holes? They FIXED them. Women learned how to sew – whether they were good or not didn’t matter. They learned it enough to be able to repair things. Knitting was also a skill majority had. With that knowledge, and using things like cedar chests, they could keep most of their woolen fabric safe.
So what about my moth-holed sweaters? When my mother was alive, she fixed them. My mother was a Depression era child. These children were educated about getting by on nothing and making things last. My mother was great at sewing. Made all my childhood clothes. I remember wishing for store bought clothes…difficult being the one with the pretty – and unique – outfit. She also knitted and for these, she knew how to get into the sweater and reknit the holes closed. Alas, I never acquired those skills…
So, I did the best I could – I used needle and thread to sew them close.
There actually is a book on how to be a frugal housewife: The American Frugal Housewife, Dedicated To Those Who Are Not Ashamed Of Economy by Mrs. Child, 1833. A fascinating read.
Makes you wonder – could you become a “frugal housewife”? I’m giving away one digital copy of RAGS AND HOPE to someone who comments. The drawing will be Sunday.
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RAGS & HOPE –
Widower Colonel Pierce Duval only wants return to his Union command in Tennessee. A chance and harrowing encounter with a true-blue Southern belle stirs emotions he thought long buried. When her safety is at stake, how can he not help her?
Cerisa Fontaine ran away for a new life far from her family’s awful secret. But her controversial marriage and southern drawl make her a pariah in the North. With her husband death, Cerisa is forced to seek employment at the only establishment that will accept her: a brothel.
To survive, Pierce and Cerisa embark on a journey to Tennessee posing as a married couple. But as secrets stand between them, passion wages its war within them. Do they remain loyal to their cause, or give in to their heart’s desire?
Do you remember what it was like to put your foot into the wrong shoe? Young children do this all the time. I still remember how uncomfortable it felt when I got in a hurry and wasn’t paying attention. Shoot, sometimes I still do this! It feels horrible.
But did you know that up until as late as 1850 shoemakers didn’t differentiate between the left and the right? They made both shoes straight with no curve in them. I can only imagine how awful they were to wear.
Change came with the invention of machinery for making shoes and they were finally able to produce left and right shoes.
I had so much fun writing SAVING THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE that releases in two weeks. Nora and Jack are so funny. Nora has a real problem with her shoes and the pair she wears coming West to marry are very worn. The heels are shaky and the shoes are too narrow.
The book opens with a stagecoach carrying her and an outlaw who’d just been arrested. Everything is so new to her.
Complication #1. He’s attached to a marshal by manacles (which are two handcuffs separated by a six-inch chain.) When the stagecoach wrecks and kills the marshal, Jack Bowdre asks Nora to get the key from the dead lawman’s pocket.
Complication #2. The second Nora unlocks the cuffs she slaps them around her own wrist and tosses the key away because she’s terrified Jack’ll leave her at the mercy of the man who’s following her.
To put it mildly, Jack is furious. Now he’s handcuffed to a woman he’s never seen and he’s about to lose his one chance of escape.
Before leaving the wreck, he removes the marshal’s boots, thinking they might come in handy. He and Nora spend a little time searching for the key but can’t find it and he hears riders up above the ravine, so he rushes her away.
Complication #3. Nora can’t keep up because of her shoes. He stops and yanks them off, wraps her feet in one of her petticoats, and puts the dead marshal’s boots on her. They can move much faster. Then later on, she switches those boots for a smaller pair that belong to the man chasing her.
They’re afoot with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a posse close behind. It’s five days to reach the safety of the outlaw town and the rugged terrain is unforgiving. The odds are stacked against them.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that Jack didn’t tell her he’s an outlaw—one of several things he left out of his letters. Nora has her trials.
I think you’ll love this fast-paced fun story, the second in my Outlaw Mail Order Brides.
I also have a Spring Sweepstakes going on. Enter to win an e-reader plus 25 historical western romances. Margaret Brownley has hers in this too. Click on the image to enter.
I have a huge problem with shoes myself because my feet and ankles swell. Dressy shoes are the hardest to find. I just can’t find any that fit well, look decent, and are comfortable. Boots really are the best but not with a dress. I’ve finally gone to the Clark’s brand and they work pretty well. Do any of you have a similar problem? What do you wear for everyday and dressy?
I’m giving away an autographed copy of the book to three people who comment.
Is this really only a hundred and twenty-five years???? We’ve come a long way, baby!
The whole idea of puffy dresses and prairie life became a GREAT part of my intro to “Second Chance Christmas“, the second novella of “The Sewing Sisters’ Society” collection, and part of the overall Prairie Brides series…
When we look back and see how for millennia women wore dresses… That it would have been considered out-of-this-world in-your-face to dress down…
Even into the 20th century…
Suffragists didn’t just fight for our long-awaited right to vote. They set a bar for an equality that we can never take lightly… but not at the expense of our respect, right?
I love getting dressed up. I love pretty dresses. But the other side of me is so totally down with blue-jean-casual… when I’m writing a story or running a power saw or cleaning a donkey pen or painting a house or room… or making jam to sell at our roadside stand.
So tell me, what’s your fashion fave and why? Is it how it makes you feel? Or how you like to be seen by others? Or would you just love to go back, back, back and dress in those ladylike fashions once more?
No right or wrong answers here, and there’s a Kindle copy of my new full-length historical
This country is amazing. Truly. Freedom is the bedrock of our foundation and when it came to settlement, the adventurers, the dreamers, the wealthy, and the down and out all had the same opportunities. I think a lot about those early men and women who took a chance. Thank goodness for a written record of their struggles which provide a glimpse into the rigors of such a journey. I don’t know about you, but I find it engrossing.
A friend gave me a copy of Women’s Diaries of the Westward Journey by Lillian Schlissel and it’s fascinating reading. Here are a few of their entries:
“I write on my lap with the wind rocking my wagon.” Wrote Algeline Ashley.
The following are notations by Lydia Allen Rudd. She was traveling to Oregon with her husband Harry:
May 7…I found myself this morning with a severe headache from the effects of yesterday’s rain. There was a toll bridge across the stream kept by the Indians. The toll for our team in total was six bits. (about 75 cents)
May 8…We have come about 12 miles and made camp in the open prairie without any wood. We collected dry weeds and grass to make a fire and for supper cooked some meat and the last of our eggs with some hard bread with water.
May 9…We passed a new grave today…a man from Ohio. We also met a man that was going back. He had buried his wife this morning. She died from measles.
May 11…We passed another grave dug only this morning. The board stated he died of cholera and was from Indiana.
May 13…Soon after we stopped tonight a man, a Dutchman, came along with a wheel barrow going to California. He wheels his provisions and clothing all day and then stops for the night and sleeps on the ground in the open air. He ate raw meat and bread for his supper. I think he will get tired wheeling his way through the world.
May 14…Just after starting this morning we passed four men digging a grave. The man that had died was taken sick yesterday of cholera about noon and died last night. The corpse lay on the ground a few feet away. It was a sad sight.
May 18…The wind has blown a perfect cloud of dust, covering us all with dirt. You could not tell the color of our skin.
October 27…We have reached Burlington. There is no house we can get to winter in. I expect that we shall not make a claim after all our trouble getting here. I shall have to be poor and dependent on a man my whole lifetime.
Another woman—Amelia Stewart Knight – is traveling with her husband and seven children and she’s pregnant with her eighth which she delivers by the roadside just before reaching Oregon. She mentions how the Native Americans along with way were much-needed guides and helpful in telling the men where to hunt.
May 14…Winds so high that we dare not make a fire and impossible to pitch a tent. The wagons can hardly stand the wind. Our wagon is full and some have to stay out in the storm. Some of the boys lost their hats.
May 17…We had a dreadful storm last night and very sharp lightning that killed one man and two oxen. The wind was so high I thought it would tear the wagon to pieces. Nothing but the stoutest canvas could stand it. The rain beat into the wagons so that everything was drenched. We woke surrounded by water and our saddles have been soaking in it all night and are almost ruined.
May 31…We traveled 25 miles today. This morning there were two large droves of cattle and about 50 wagons ahead of us. We either had to stay poking behind or attempt to pass them. The drovers threatened to drive the cattle over you if you tried to pass. They even took out their pistols. Husband came up just as one man pointed his pistol at Wilson Carl. We took out across the prairie and had a rather rough ride but were glad to be away from such a lawless bunch. We are now within 100 miles of Fort Laramie.
June 6…Still in camp. Husband and myself are sick. We supposed by drinking the river water that looked more like dirty suds.
July 28…Chatfield (her young son) is quite ill with scarlet fever.
Sept 5…Passed a sleepless night as a good many of the Indians camped around us were drunk and noisy and kept up a continual racket which made all our hands uneasy and kept our poor dog on watch.
Sept 17…Gave birth to my eighth child after which we ferried across the Columbia River. Here husband traded two yoke of oxen for a half section of land with one half acre planted in potatoes and a small log cabin and lean-to with no windows. We’re home.
These diaries are invaluable. To say the trip was difficult is an understatement. There was nothing to look forward to each day except more of the same that battered the mind and spirit. We owe them all our admiration and respect, especially the women who followed their men and given little say in the situation. They were truly hardy souls.
Would you have kept soldiering on day after day? I’d like to think I had what it took, but I really believe I would’ve been one of those who turned back.
I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card so leave a comment to enter the drawing.
Also, All of my Men of Legend are on sale or Free. Now’s your chance.
A rough outlaw town…A man seeking redemption…A hunted woman with no place to turn except agree to be outlaw Clay Colby’s wife.
This is the scenario in The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride. In case you haven’t heard, this new series is a bleed over from my Men of Legend and Clay Colby (whom you met in The Heart of a Texas Cowboy) is tired of running. He’s determined to make a stand on the last bit of mostly unsettled Texas land in the panhandle. He yearns to settle down with a wife and have a family. To be normal. So he starts building a town on the site of an old hideout called Devil’s Crossing. While he builds, he writes to Tally Shannon and Luke Legend carries the letters back and forth. She and a group of women are hiding out in a canyon, hunted in order to be returned to the Creedmore Asylum for the Insane.
Tally and these women first made an appearance at the end of Men of Legend Book 1 – To Love a Texas Ranger when outlaw Luke Legend began providing food, clothing, and medicine.
But Tally has grown weary of living in the shadows and wants more for herself and her band of fugitives. For once she wants to know what it’s like to have someone care for her—to have strong arms around her, to be safe, protected. Although afraid to trust, she agrees to marry Clay.
“What drew Clay most was the defiance on her face, and the determined glint in her eyes. Hard eyes, that had seen too much pain. Tally wouldn’t back down easily—from anything. The Colt strapped around her waist bore witness to that.”
I’ve often thought about the line drawn between outlaws and lawmen on the American Frontier and find that at times it became so blurred it was almost invisible. A man could be a sheriff or U.S. Marshal one day and a fugitive outlaw the next, depending on the circumstances. Or vice versa.
Millions upon millions of acres of raw land comprised the American Frontier, stretching from the Missouri River all the way to the Pacific Ocean. There were no laws, no courts, and little or no government. The few lawmen that existed had to cover huge areas and there was no way they could.
Often, the only law was what a man found for himself. The gun determined the outcome.
To get an idea of what I’m talking about, consider this: A man is minding his own business and taking care of his family when someone rides up and shoots his wife and children. He catches the murderer and kills him. That makes him an outlaw and he’d be on the run.
Then maybe one of the railroad or cattle towns needed to curb their lawlessness so they would hire the outlaw and pin a badge on his chest. There are plenty of examples in history.
Many such men straddled the fence, being whatever anyone wanted. Wild Bill Hickok, Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Virgil Earp, Bat Masterson, and Pat Garrett to name a few. You might say they were the good “bad” guys.
That’s what Clay and his friends are. Sure, they’ve killed but they only see it as administering justice. They were the law where there was none and now they’re ready to give up their role.
But will others let them?
If you’ve read the book, tell me your favorite part or favorite character. Or talk about outlaws. What is your view? Were they good? Or bad?
Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for one of three copies of the book. Or if you already have it, to win a $10 Amazon gift card.