I picked up an interesting book at a swap meet titled 1001 Most-asked Questions About the American West by Harry E. Chrisman. The book is out of print but there are a few left on Amazon. I bet you didn’t know there were that many questions to ask about cowboys. Here are some samples from the book:
Did Indians have any special word to describe the covered wagons they saw on the plains?
They called them “teepees on wheels.”
So many western people say “howdy” when they meet you on the street. Where did the term originate?
Howdy is short for “How-do-you-do?” You don’t have to tell the inquirer how you feel, for he doesn’t care anyway! A cowboy once advised a friend never to say “Howdy” to a talkative, glib Easterner whom they both knew. “Why not?” the second cowboy asked. “Because he’ll tell you,” came the answer.
Is there any record of a woman riding in a cattle stampede?
Old cowboy Anderson from Sequin, Texas told of seeing a lady ride side-saddle being swept into a longhorn stampede. He wrote: “Seeing the cattle gaining, that woman swung herself astride and pulled off a race that beat anything I ever saw.” This is what they called riding “clothespin” style.
Was marijuana used to any extent in the settlement of the Old West?
Marijuana was not used as a drug. However one Western expert has noted that even Bibles and wagon covers were often made from the Devil’s weed, in addition to some of the clothing the pioneers wore and the hemp rope they used.
What was a “pitcher and catcher hotel” in the early West?
It has nothing to do with baseball. A pitcher was what they called the washbowl, and the catcher (or thundermug) was the chamber pot. Margaret here: Whoever thought up the name thundermug must have had a real problem.
What was the usual bounty offered for an outlaw when the posters read, “Wanted, dead or alive.”
$500 would bring a man in dead or alive. That was a lot of money back in the 1870-80s.
What did the term “grubline gossip” mean?
Cowboys laid off during the winter months would ride from ranch to ranch looking for odd jobs. In exchange for free food they reported whatever news they heard on their travels and this was called grubline gossip.
What were the worst factors pioneers had to contend with?
Blizzards, Indians, fleas, snakes, cholera, small pox, diphtheria, lice, bedbugs, prairie fire, falls into deep wells, accidents from livestock, cyclones, runaway horses, stampedes, heat sunstroke, silence of the plains and loneliness. Many women thought the latter two the worst.
What would have been the worst
factor for you?
Working undercover is no job for a lady, but one thing is certain;
Come hell or high water, Jennifer Layne always gets her man!
Since my latest book, AGAINST THE SUN, big Jake Cantrell and Sage Dumont’s story, deals
with a visit to Texas by a Saudi Arabian sheik and his family, I thought it might be fun to talk
about favorite places in the sun.
With temperatures that reach higher than 120 degrees, Saudi Arabia would definitely not be one of them!
Personally, I hate hot weather. Among my personal
favorite places, would be the ski slopes of Aspen
on a sunny day, or up on the top of the hill at Mammoth Mountain in California. Yummy days of cold and sunshine and crystal clear blue skies.
We usually travel in the spring. A favorite sunny day happened to me in Rome in April a few years ago, when we stood in the warm rays next to the beautiful Trevi Fountain. And of course you can’t beat
walking in the sun on the Left Bank in Paris.
Closer to home, Montana has some great sunny days. Today I’m working in my office, looking at the lush green pastures outside my windows toward the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
Big sky country is a major winner when the sun is shining and the clear blue sky seems to go on forever.
A day on the ocean off the coast of Santa Barbara is hard to beat when the sun is shining. Sailboat or powerboat, just being out on the water makes me feel completely carefree.
In AGAINST THE SUN, the sheik, his daughter A’lia and his son Roshan aren’t bothered by the brutal Houston heat. And Sage is more concerned about learning the protocols she must know in order to negotiate the three hundred million dollar deal that will make or break her career. Customs like not showing the bottom of her foot, which is considered an insult, or making the okay sign, which would be giving them the evil eye.
AGAINST THE SUN was one of the most difficult books I’ve ever tackled because of the research involved in getting the customs, the clothing, the attitudes of the Saudi visitors correct. I hope you’ll try AGAINST THE SUN and that you enjoy it.
I’d love to hear some of your favorite places in the sun and why you love them? I’m giving away a copy of AGAINST THE SUN to one lucky commentor today!
Warm wishes for a great summer, Kat
It’s not in bodyguard Jake Cantrell’s job description to share his suspicions with his assignments. Beautiful executive Sage Dumont may be in charge, but Jake’s not on her payroll. As a former special forces marine, Jake trusts his gut, and it’s telling him that there’s something off about a shipment arriving at Marine Drilling International. His instinct is aroused…in more ways than one.
A savvy businesswoman, Sage knows better than to take some hired gun’s “hunch” as gospel. And yet she is learning not to underestimate the man her grandfather hired to protect her. Determined to prove Jake wrong, Sage does some digging of her own and turns up deadly details she was never meant to see.
Drawn into a terrifying web of lies and deceit—and into feelings they can’t afford to explore—what Jake and Sage uncover may be frighteningly worse than they ever imagined.
Here’s an excerpt from AGAINST THE SUN:
Walking out of the elevator across the shiny black granite floor, Jake Cantrell made his
way to the receptionist desk on the tenth floor of Marine Drilling International. The waiting area was done in black leather sofas and chairs, the receptionist desk dark walnut and chrome, nothing but the best for the Dumonts, the family who owned the company.
A good-looking woman, late twenties, wavy, shoulder-length mink-brown hair, busily searched the drawers and cabinets behind the desk, bending over in a tailored pencil shirt, providing him with a perfect view of a very shapely ass.
He almost smiled. Even the help was first class.
She jerked upright at his approach, noticing him for the first time, and her face colored, a pretty face, remarkable really, with amazing golden brown eyes. Those eyes looked him up and down, which took a while, being six-five, two-hundred thirty-five pounds.
“May I help you?” she asked.
He gave her a smile. “I’m Jake Cantrell. I’ve got an appointment at ten with Ian Dumont.”
She frowned. “He didn’t mention it. He’s getting ready for a meeting. You might have to wait a while.”
“Not a problem. In the meantime, I could sure use a cup of coffee.”
Amusement tipped her mouth up, a tiny dimple appearing next to plump, rose-colored lips. “I’ll see what I can do.” But she didn’t make a move, just turned to the woman hurrying toward her across the waiting room.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Ms. Dumont,” the woman said. “Thank you for covering for me.”
Sonofabitch, a Dumont, Jake thought. Asking her to fetch him a cup of coffee was probably
not the best idea he’d ever had.
“It’s not a problem, Marie.” She tipped her head toward Jake. “Mr. Cantrell is here to see Ian. I have to go into the meeting. Could you get him a cup of coffee while he waits?”
Jake felt the slight rebuke in the glance she cast his way. Clearly, she wasn’t used to fetching a man much of anything.
“Of course,” Marie said. The Dumont woman headed for the tall walnut door leading into Ian Dumont’s imperial domain, her strides long and purposeful, as if she had someplace important to go. He liked a woman who didn’t dawdle. And besides the great ass, she had a pair of legs that wouldn’t quit.
He watched her disappear behind the door, wondering what role she played in the Dumont empire, then turned his attention to the receptionist.
Marie was smiling. “Mr. Cantrell, Mr. Dumont mentioned that you would be coming in. I believe he wants to see you as soon as you arrive.”
“Thank you, Marie.”
“I’ll bring coffee into the meeting.” The woman blushed as he walked away. It was his size mostly, he figured, that made women take a second look. He was used to it by now.
He shoved open the office door and stepped inside, found only two people in the room–the woman he had subtly insulted and a silver-haired gentleman in his late seventies, slightly stooped but still impressive, undoubtedly Ian Dumont, CEO of the company.
“Mr. Cantrell, I assume,” the man said. “Our mutual friend, Trace Rawlins, had nothing but good things to say when he recommended you for this job. Please do join us.”
The Dumont woman was staring, one of her dark eyebrows elevated in question. He noticed she was wearing a flashy diamond engagement ring. Since he felt a jolt of heat whenever he looked at her, it was probably good she was out of his reach.
Ian Dumont reached out to shake his hand. A strong, solid handshake that set the tone for the discussion ahead. “Why don’t we all sit down?” Ian suggested.
They spaced themselves at the near end of the conference table, which sat in the middle of a room done in the same walnut and chrome as the waiting area.
Ian fixed his attention on Jake. “I asked you here to discuss providing security for one of our people during an upcoming business negotiation.”
“S.E. Dumont, you said when we spoke on the phone.”
“That is correct.”
“Wait a minute,” the dark-haired woman interrupted, her gaze sliding toward Jake. “Ian, you aren’t thinking–”
“Mr. Cantrell, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Sage Elizabeth Dumont.”
The room fell silent. Sonofabitch. She was his assignment?
“I don’t need a bodyguard, Ian.”
The old man turned toward her, a determined glint in a pair of eyes that looked strikingly similar to the flashing gold-ringed brown ones belonging to his granddaughter.
“Mr. Cantrell has experience in Middle Eastern protocol as well as a background in personal security. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Cantrell?”
“Over the years, I’ve done a lot of corporate protection work, both in South America and the Middle East. I worked in Saudi for three years after I got out of the Marines. So yes, I know the protocols.”
“This is simply not necessary,” Sage said.
Both men ignored her. “I understand you were in Special Forces. You served in Iraq, I believe.”
“Sage is Vice President of Acquisitions and Distribution for Marine Drilling. Currently she is involved in a transaction that may reach the three hundred million mark. A deal being negotiated with Sheik Khalid Al Kahzaz of Saudi Arabia. The sheik and his family are due to arrive in just a few days.”
“I see,” Jake said noncommittally. Protecting a corporate exec was one thing. Protecting a spoiled young socialite who got her job because she was a member of the Dumont family was something altogether different.
“With your experience,” Ian continued, “I’m hoping you will be able to guide my granddaughter through this visit with our Saudi friends, and should trouble arise in the city, also keep her safe.”
“That’s what I get paid for.”
Sage shifted in her chair, irritation clear in her face. “We need to discuss this in private, Ian.”
The old man smiled indulgently. “We can do that, of course, but the result will be the same. You’re representing Marine Drilling International. You will be prominently engaged in entertaining the sheik, his daughter and son, and the rest of his party. Currently, there is a great deal of unrest in the Middle
East. Last night there was an incident right here in the city. Mr. Cantrell can handle whatever problem might come up.” He rose from his chair, and Jake and Sage stood up, too.
Ian turned to Jake. “When can you start?”
Part of him wanted to refuse the assignment. He didn’t want to deal with a bossy, cantankerous female. The other part was looking for something interesting to do after weeks of mostly sitting behind a desk. “If we only have a short time until they arrive,” he found himself saying, “we had start today.”
Sage’s spine went a little straighter. She fixed her gaze on Jake. Even with her ultra high heels she had to look up at him, which he could tell she didn’t like.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll see you in my office in half an hour. Does that work for you?”
“I’ll be there.”
As soon as the door swooshed closed behind her, Jake heard Ian chuckle. “I knew she was going to pitch an all-out fit about this, but I want her safe. She means everything to me, Mr. Cantrell.”
“It’s just Jake. And you can count on me to take care of her–whether she likes it or not.”
Ian Dumont just smiled.
AGAINST THE SUN debuted at #17 on the New York Times Bestsellers list, and was a Romantic Times “top pick”! Here’s how to order.