Lacy: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Pendleton Petticoats Book 5) Read online

  Eagerly, he counted the hours until they could leave the reception and check into their room at the Hotel Pendleton for the night. With his house overrun by relatives, he thought a private night in the hotel was in order before he whisked her away for a honeymoon in Portland. He’d offered to take her anywhere in the world she wanted to go, but Lacy kissed him in a way that made it impossible for him to think. “Wherever you are is where I want to be. We can stay in your barn for all I care.”

  They agreed to spend a week in Portland where they would relax, shop, or remain in the luxury hotel Grant had booked.

  Pastor Whitting cleared his throat and drew Grant’s attention from thoughts of the honeymoon back to the ceremony.

  Repeating the words the minister spoke, Grant slipped the ring on Lacy’s finger.

  The pastor barely announced them as husband and wife before Grant lifted her veil and kissed her thoroughly and completely. His mother gasped loudly while his brothers-in-law all laughed.

  Lacy grinned up at him with a fire burning in her eyes. “If you kiss me again like that, Mr. Hill, I can’t promise to attend our reception. I might just arrange for you to be captured by a couple of wild Indians and hauled off to our room at the hotel.”

  Grant laughed and hugged Lacy close to his chest. “If you make promises like that, I’ll make sure I do. I love you, Lacy Williams Hill, with all of my heart and then some.”

  “I love you, too, Grant.” Lacy pulled back just enough she could see his face. “Thank you for making all my dreams come true.”

  Warmth and love shone from his eyes, offering her a window into his heart. “This is only the beginning, Princess. The best is yet to come.”

  Pie Crust Cookies

  When I was a little girl and my mom made pie, she’d always save the leftover trimmings for me. Carefully, I’d roll out the dough, spread it with butter, sprinkle it with cinnamon and sugar, and stand in front of the oven, eagerly waiting for the crust to bake. The delicious aroma would fill the house. The moment the cookies cooled enough to touch, they would disappear. I hope you enjoy the simple, yet tasty cookies that Lacy made to share with her family and friends.

  Pie Crust Cookies

  1/4 cup white sugar

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  1 tablespoon melted butter

  Pie Crust (enough for a single crust)

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

  Mix cinnamon and sugar together.

  Roll out dough to about 1/4 inch thickness, in a rectangle shape. Using a brush, brush on a thin layer of melted butter. Sprinkle the sugar cinnamon mix onto the dough then evenly roll up tightly in a roll, making a long log. Once rolled, slice into 1/4 inch pieces. Place each piece onto a lightly greased cookie sheet then bake for 8-10 minutes (or until almost golden brown). Serve with a glass of cold milk for a true nostalgic experience.

  Author’s Note

  The research for writing Lacy and Grant’s story took me to some interesting places.

  Admittedly, I love history and it is never a hardship for me to study information about what’s taken place in our past.

  The Umatilla Indian Reservation and the people who reside there have played such an important role in Pendleton’s history. Due to that fact, I wanted to incorporate a character from the reservation into one of the Pendleton Petticoat stories.

  That’s where Lacy’s character came in.

  By the 1870s, assimilation began on the reservation, home to people of the Cayuse, Umatilla and Walla Walla tribes. A boarding school taught many of the children the basics of reading and writing as well as skills like sewing and farming. There was also a church where many attended services.

  As mentioned in the story, the tribes owned a tremendous number of horses — cayuse and Appaloosa, as well as pintos, paints and mustangs. In particular, the Cayuse tribe was known for their large horse herds that grazed for hundreds of miles in the eastern portion of Washington and Oregon. The move to and allotment of land on the reservation resulted in a forced decrease of the herds. Read more about the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation on their website.

  One of the most helpful things I discovered in my research was a collection of photographs taken by a man named Lee Moorhouse during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

  Moorhouse was a photographer and an Indian agent for the Umatilla Indian Reservation. From 1888 to 1916, he produced more than 9,000 images documenting urban, rural, and Native American life in the Columbia Basin, particularly in Umatilla County, Oregon, where the reservation is located. The University of Oregon has many of his photographs in an online digital collection. By studying the photos, the characters from the reservation came to life for my story. You can also read more about the specific photographs that offered inspiration for this story at Cowboy Kisses.

  If you’ve never seen a lamprey, they do resemble an eel. They are among the oldest fish alive today with a fossil record dating as far back as 500 million years. Like the sturgeon, this fish has not changed much throughout the centuries. Find out more about the “vampires of the river” at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife website.

  Have you ever wondered what it would be like to dance at an old-fashioned ball? There’s a fun video that shows some of the dance steps from the good old days. Let me know if you master the quadrille.

  Pendleton really did flood in May 1906. Details of the event are available in a collection of old newspaper articles. It made for some very fascinating reading!

  Oh, if you noticed the reference to NECCO Wafers… my dad always had at least one roll of the thin little wafers on hand. Always. While I was growing up, he kept a few in his shirt pocket, a roll in the pickup, and candy in the assorted tractor cabs. If you showed up at his house today, you’d probably find a partially eaten roll of them in his office or on the kitchen counter. The candy is made today using the same recipe Oliver Chase used to first create them in 1847.

  Thanks for coming along on another Pendleton Petticoats adventure. Continue reading the series with book six when Bertie falls in love (excerpt chapter included in this book).

  Thank you for reading Lacy. Now that you’ve finished the book, won’t you please consider writing a review?

  I would truly appreciate it.

  Reviews are the best way readers discover great new books.

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  Shanna’s Newsletter

  It’s fast, easy, and only comes out when new books are released

  or extremely exciting news happens.

  Bertie (Pendleton Petticoats, Book 6) — Bertie Hawkins survived a traumatic ordeal that stripped away her sunny outlook on life and left her afraid of every shadow. Terrorized and tired of reliving the past, she accepts an offer to change her situation. Although she only intends to work through the summer, the peace she finds at Nash’s Folly keeps her there every bit as much as her interest in a mysterious new ranch hand.

  Desperate to escape his memories, Riley Walsh buys a run-down farm in Pendleton, Oregon. To pay for the many necessary repairs, he goes to work for his neighbor, never intending to fall in love with the effervescent girl who helps around the house.

  Riley isn’t the only one enchanted with Bertie. His own crazy mule and the neighbor’s son both share his infatuation, driving him past the brink of jealousy.

  A sweet romance that embraces the trials and triumphs of yesteryear, Bertie blends laugh-out-loud adventures with heartwarming moments.

  Turn the page for an excerpt!

  Pendleton, Oregon

  1906

  The stench of pickled herring clung to the clammy, spongy hand that clamped over Bertie Hawkins’ mouth. An arm wrapped around her waist with such speed and force, it knocked the air out of her in a whoosh.

  Dragged into the darkness beyond her front porch, Bertie struggled against her assailant. However, he held the advantage of surprise as well as being several inches taller and many pounds heavier.

  His hand slid off her lips but be
fore she mustered a scream, a foul-tasting rag filled her mouth. When she tried to spit it out, he slapped her so hard, a kaleidoscope of colors exploded inside her head.

  “If you don’t hold still, girl, this will go much worse for you,” a voice hissed in her ear.

  The man’s rancid breath caused her nose to wrinkle involuntarily as he tugged her into the bushes behind her home.

  Desperate to escape, Bertie threw her weight against the man, knocking them both off balance. Skirts tangled around her legs, trapping her as she fell to the ground with a whimper.

  Sharp pain shot through her side as he viciously kicked her. “I told you to hold still, girl. You should have heeded my warning.”

  In preparation of escape, Bertie coiled her muscles, ready to jump to her feet and run despite the pain arcing across her ribs. Before she took flight, the attacker delivered one more blow that left her unable to move through the blinding agony.

  He leaned over her, voice dripping with hatred. “Tell your friend Lacy she’s next.”

  Screams rent the darkness, drawing Bertie from her tormented slumber.

  “Bertie! Bertie!” A gentle hand shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Bertie!”

  Wracked with fear, Bertie opened her eyes and stared into the concerned face of her brother, Bobby.

  He placed the lamp he carried on the nightstand next to the bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “It’s okay, Bert. You’re safe. He’s not here.”

  Bertie inhaled a shuddering breath, then another. Poor Bobby hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep for weeks. Nearly every night, she relived the nightmare of Richard Kent’s brutal attack. Even though the man was dead, he continued to haunt Bertie’s dreams and shred her normally undaunted confidence.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again, Bobby. Not ever.” Tears leaked out of Bertie’s eyes and she sniffled, wiping her eyes on the edge of her sheet.

  “Aw, Bert.” Bobby wrapped his arms around her and comfortingly patted her back. “It’s natural for you to have nightmares. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep you safe. If I’d never gone to Portland for that class, you wouldn’t have…”

  Bertie interrupted her brother. “You needed that class for your business, Bobby. Besides, that awful man might have done the same thing even if you’d been here. It most likely wouldn’t have made a difference one way or another.”

  The siblings had variations of the same conversation almost daily. Plagued with guilt for not being home to keep Bertie safe, Bobby blamed himself for Kent’s attack that left his sister with broken ribs, a bruised kidney, and multiple cuts. Fortunately, that was all the damage he inflicted.

  While her body healed with the speed of youth, Bertie’s spirit remained wounded and fragile. Prior to the attack, she was a fun-loving girl full of adventure and spunk. Now, she struggled to hold herself together and make it through one day at a time. Fear lurked around every corner and horror lingered in each sudden, unexpected sound.

  Bertie’s happy existence disappeared one May night as suddenly as the flood that washed through town a few weeks later and destroyed multiple buildings. Thankfully, the only life lost in the flood was that of Richard Kent.

  Although he no longer posed a threat, Bertie couldn’t get past her feelings of dread, loss, and fear.

  At home, every creak made her draw in a frightened breath and dart her eyes around, anticipating an attack that didn’t materialize.

  Work at the telephone office as an operator had become a form of torture. The hours she spent with her back to the door tested every bit of fortitude she possessed. Each time someone walked into the office, it startled her, leaving Bertie with hands shaking and heart pounding.

  She didn’t go anywhere or do anything unless Bobby or one of her friends accompanied her. Even after her parents died when she was fourteen and left her and Bobby alone in the world, she still felt sheltered and secure.

  The current sense of loss and fright she experienced was unlike anything she could have imagined and it threatened to leave her undone.

  The sweet, carefree world she’d known no longer existed. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  The soft murmurings of a morning breeze gently rustled through a field of ripening wheat and blended with the warning chirps of a bird in a splendid summer serenade.

  Killdeer. Killdeer.

  Aundy Nash grinned at the bird’s song and patted the neck of the filly she rode. “Don’t worry mama bird. We won’t disturb you or your nest, will we, Ella?”

  The horse blew out a puff of air and shook her black and cream mane.

  Aundy gave the filly another pat. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Ella? You take after your mother.”

  When her favorite mount began to show signs of aging, Aundy’s husband, Garrett, suggested she ride one of Bell’s offspring. With his help, she’d trained Ella since the day she was born, getting the filly accustomed to her scent, touch, and direction. She’d started her under the saddle a few months ago and Ella had quickly taken to the training.

  The beautiful dun carried a solid black line down her back while stripes around her socks bore the markings of her mustang ancestry. Lively and feisty, Ella was fun to ride, especially on a warm summer day with nothing but blue sky overhead and fresh air filling Aundy’s lungs.

  Although she’d grown up in the city with no rural experience, she knew without a doubt she belonged at Nash’s Folly.

  She and Garrett worked the ranch with his parents and their hired hands. This morning, Aundy volunteered to ride the fence line west of the home place to make sure all was well with the cattle and the fence didn’t require any repairs.

  “It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it, Ella?” Aundy asked as they topped a rise in the expansive pasture that butted against the wheat field. She shifted in the saddle and turned her attention to look over the cattle lingering in a corner of the pasture.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her gaze to a large bullsnake soaking up the sun. Stretched along the length of a pole on the fence, the reptile could have slithered right into the top of her cowboy boot since she’d ridden so close to it.

  A forked tongue darted out and flicked at her. Startled by the sight of it, a shriek escaped her before she could hold it back and she yanked on the reins.

  Fully sensing Aundy’s fear, Ella reared and came down hard then bolted forward. Unprepared for the horse’s reaction, Aundy tumbled off the saddle and thrust out her arm in hopes of breaking the fall.

  As she landed on the flat of her hand with her arm extended, the impact caused unrelenting pain to sear from wrist to shoulder. A loud pop confirmed she’d damaged something. The first day she’d arrived in Pendleton more than seven years ago, she’d broken the same arm in a wagon accident. She just hoped she hadn’t broken it again. The weeks of misery spent wearing a cast wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.

  Ella stopped nearby, clearly frightened as her nostrils flared and ears stiffened.

  Concerned for the horse more than herself, Aundy groaned as she got to her feet and took a careful step toward the filly. Bruised and jarred, at least nothing else was damaged beyond her arm.

  “Everything is just fine, sweetheart. No need to fret.” Aundy spoke in the gentle tone Garrett had taught her to use around the horses. Holding her throbbing arm against her side, she glanced around to make sure the snake was long gone before taking another step closer to the horse. Snakes and mice were two things she couldn’t abide.

  Ella shied away and sidestepped, tossing her head.

  “Come on, baby. Everything is fine. You’re fine. Don’t be scared.”

  If Ella took off, Aundy would have a very long, painful walk home. Unhurried, she reached out and snatched the reins. The horse jerked against them, but Aundy kept up a soothing dialogue as she contemplated the best way to mount.

  Tenderly, she ran a hand along Ella’s neck, patting her as she endeavored to instill a sense of calm. Eventually, the fill
y began to breathe normally, relaxing under Aundy’s assurances and attentive care.

  “Ella, girl, I need to get back to the house, so you’re just going to have to cooperate.” Aundy led the horse over to the pole fence. Ella pulled back, but Aundy moved her around until she could climb up on the fence rail and slide a foot into the stirrup. Swiftly swinging on the back of the horse, she guided her along the fence line.

  Two hours later, she arrived at the barn, exhausted. After checking the remainder of the fence, she chased in two strays then stopped to fill in a big hole most likely dug by a badger. It hadn’t been easy, but she got the job done. Once she mounted Ella and headed toward the house, her energy flagged.

  Aundy sighed in relief when Dent, the ranch foreman, walked out to greet her. The man had worked on the place long before she arrived and had been like a grandfather to her in the years since she’d lived there.

  Covered in dust from the golden braid wound around the top of her head to the toes of her boots, Aundy looked like she’d ridden through a twister.

  “Missy! What in thunderation happened to you?” Dent took Ella’s reins and reached out to help Aundy dismount. When his hand connected with her elbow, she sucked in a gulp of air and bit back a moan.

  Beneath bushy eyebrows, Dent’s kind eyes held concern and questions. “Missy?”

  “A snake spooked me and Ella on the upper end of the pasture. Don’t you dare tell any of the men, but I fell off and landed on my arm.” Aundy suppressed another groan as she swung her leg over the saddle and dismounted.

  “Garrett! Get out here, boss!” Dent bellowed as he looked toward the machine shed where Garrett fiddled with his new kerosene powered tractor.

  Garrett stepped out of the shed, took one look at his wife’s pale face, and dropped the greasy rag in his hand.