Shannon here: Donna Schlachter shares an excerpt from her latest Historical Romance, Kaihtlyn’s Choice – Courting Chaos. Comment or answer the question in this post to enter the drawing for an ebook copy. Deadline: May 6th, 11:59 pm central time. Here’s Donna:
Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing,
and obtaineth favour of the Lord.
Proverbs 18:22 KJV
Chapter 1
Nugget, Colorado
June 2nd, 1884
Kaihtlyn Watson swayed in time with the motion of the stagecoach carrying her from her old life to her new. Surely, driftwood and debris experienced more peaceful passage over a waterfall than she had in the past ten days. Leaving Kansas City behind wasn’t a struggle. Well, leaving her best friend, Nancy, hurt. Left a hole the size of Texas in her heart. Selling almost everything associated with her former life wasn’t so upsetting. Sharing this crowded conveyance with strangers for a fortnight wasn’t frightening.
No, what kept her awake far into the night as they hurtled along dark roads, barreled through thick forests, forded swollen rivers, and even outpaced a Cheyenne band on the prowl, was the question she’d dealt with for most of the last four years: where was Robert?
She knew where he had last resided. A town called Nugget. Colorado. Not exactly on a direct stage route, as the ticket clerk in KC explained. But she could get to Cañon City on the stage. Robert said in his letter he’d send somebody to meet her. She’d sent a letter a few days before leaving Kansas City, hoping it made its way to her husband so he knew when to get her. No, the clerk knew nothing about the town, but suspected it was little more than a mining camp. Tents, claims. More saloons than churches, for sure.
The coach slowed, and the driver knocked on the roof. “Colorado Springs coming up. Twenty-minute stop. Don’t be late.”
She exhaled, then patted her hair. Although why she bothered, she wasn’t certain. Until she saw her reflection, she did not know what needed tucking or re-pinning. Her dress, the same one she’d worn since Kansas City, hung limply. The uncomfortable travel kept her stomach doing flip-flops, so she’d eaten sparingly. The drivers along the way made it clear they weren’t stopping for anything apart from their schedule. Safety of the passengers, they said.
She snorted. Maybe. But what about their comfort?
The coach slowed, then stopped. The driver set the brake before jumping down, and she jostled to her right at the movement. The door swung outward, a step shoved into place, then he left them to their own devices to stay or exit.
Well, she needed a breath of air. And perhaps a trip to the privy. Absolutely something to drink. And eat, if she had time. If not, she’d wait. Not like she hadn’t gone hungry plenty of times in the past.
Kaihtlyn stepped, unaided, onto the sidewalk. She didn’t need a man to hold her hand. Wasn’t accustomed to such genteel treatment. Sure didn’t expect it from Robert. And given that he was hardly around, a good thing she didn’t get accustomed to being treated like a lady. No, siree.
She surveyed her surroundings as she considered what she’d done to survive these past years while waiting for Robert to grow up. Ironing, laundry, cleaning. Taking care of children. Dustbin work. Cooking.
Folks pushed past, going about their business. Wagons and coaches rolled along the street. Several riders on horses sauntered past.
She turned toward the combination stage and train station, noting the fine stone construction. Inside, the dim light and cool interior cheered her. Seemed like there were only two temperatures in the stage—hot as an oven, or cold as ice. Nothing in between.
Spotting the sign that led to the women’s privy—this was a treat—she followed the directions outside, around the building, and came to an abrupt halt. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one in need of the facilities. At least five women, some with children in hand, waited ahead of her.
Oh, dear. She only had about seventeen minutes before the stage left again. She’d already witnessed in Hays, Kansas, that the drivers meant what they said. They’d left a man behind, even though he ran alongside them until he couldn’t keep up.
She couldn’t afford to lose her single piece of luggage, or have to buy another ticket.
A hand pump beside a bench beckoned her. Perhaps she could use this time to clean up some. She turned to the woman behind her. “Would you save my spot for me?”
“Sure.”
Kaihtlyn stepped out of line and perched on the end of the bench. The woman slipped forward into her place.
Unlikely the stranger would keep her word. She sighed. Why were some people just downright mean?
She pumped the handle several times, and a splash of rust-colored water emerged. Another couple of pumps, then the liquid ran clear. She held her handkerchief beneath the flow, wrung it out, then swiped her face and neck down to the decolletage of her dress.
Rinse, wring, wipe her arms, the back of her neck. Oh, if only she had a mirror. She stood and stepped back into line—behind the woman who’d agreed to let her keep her spot in line—and glanced around.
Windows lined this section of the building. By standing on her tiptoes, she could just see—her ankle twisted, and she fell against the spot-stealer.
Heat raced up her neck, and she regained her balance. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
The woman glared at her, then turned away.
Kaihtlyn smiled. “Glad I didn’t.”
She’d put up with that type before. Mostly society matrons in KCMO. Looking down their noses at her. Paying her a pittance, barely enough to keep body and soul together.
A voice from over her shoulder startled her. “I wouldn’t be, if I were you. Glad she isn’t hurt, that is.”
She turned. Another woman had materialized. They both took a couple of steps forward as the line moved. “It wasn’t her fault. I practically fell on her.”
The newcomer held out a hand. “Mattie Girton. Pleased to meet somebody with manners.”
“Kaihtlyn Watson. Yes, but God loves them, too.”
Mattie rolled her eyes. “You’re not one of those missionaries coming here to save us, are you?”
She laughed. “No. I’m a wife coming to live with her husband.”
“Ah, one of those.” A chuckle from her new friend cheered her. “Well, good luck. Where ya headed?”
“Nugget. Have you heard of it?”
“Sure. East of the Springs, right?”
“Yes, if you mean Colorado Springs.”
“It is.”
“What kind of town is it?”
Another step forward. “Bigger’n you might expect. Got a church building. Mercantile.”
“So, not a tent city?”
“Well, there’s some left, but most folks have a house of some kind, even if it isn’t much more than a tar-paper shack.”
Images of a home of her own, not a rented couple of rooms in somebody else’s house, filled Kaihtlyn’s mind. Perhaps she’d been too hard on Robert. Harbored too many misgivings.
But his letter hadn’t exactly answered all her questions. Or even filled in a few blanks. He had included almost enough for her fare, though. Bid her come immediately. Said he’d have somebody meet her in Cañon City. Promised things would be better for them now.
Well, they could hardly be worse, could they? She’d spent more of her married life apart than with him. Some days, she felt like a widow.
Or worse, like they’d never been married.
Had she wasted the past four years on his dreams?
Or could they now finally start the family she longed for?
Mattie nudged her. “Move along, little doggie.”
Kaihtlyn smiled at the reference to baby cattle. Yes, she was an infant in many ways.
But all of that was about to change. She’d have the chance to show Robert that she could be a good wife and mother. And he’d want to settle down. With her.
After doing her business, Kaihtlyn waved goodbye to Mattie and trotted around the building to the stage.
Which rolled away from her.
Question for Readers: Have you ever traveled alone? Or been on a trip that made you nervous? Tell us about your experience.
About Donna: A hybrid author, Donna writes squeaky clean historical and contemporary suspense. She has been published more than 60 times in books; is a member of several writers groups; facilitates a critique group; teaches writing classes; ghostwrites; edits; and judges in writing contests. She loves history and research, traveling extensively for both, and is an avid oil painter. She also coaches writers at any stage of their manuscript.
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About Kaihtlyn’s Choice – Courting Chaos:
A widow heads west to meet her wandering husband in Nugget, Colorado. On her arrival, she learns he died. But he left a gold mine and a will. With a stipulation: She must marry within 30 days. To one of three men he pre-selected before he died. But which man will win her heart? The tinker, the tailor, or the candlestick maker?
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Kaihtlyn’s Choice – Courting Chaos Courting Chaos Series Donna’s Books
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