Rimfire Bride
Authors: Sara Luck
Critics adore Sara Luck’s blazingly hot Western romances!
TALLIE’S HERO
A
Publishers Weekly
Top 10 Romance for Fall 2012
The dangerous American West is no place for a genteel British novelist fleeing a scandal . . . but one plucky lady embraces the spirit of Wyoming—and captures the heart of her new hero, a daring rancher with big dreams of his own.
“The Wild West retains its appeal in
Tallie’s Hero
.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Steamy Western romance.”
—
Fresh Fiction
More praise for Sara Luck and her novels
CLAIMING THE HEART
As the Texas and Pacific Railroad expands across the wild frontier, a spirited young woman experiences the triumphs and tumult of building a part of history . . . and loving a track man bound to a politically powerful family.
“Terrific. . . . Sara Luck provides an enjoyable nineteenth-century Americana tale starring two fabulous protagonists.”
—
Genre Go Round
“Luck captures the true essence of the Texas frontier, the expansion of the railroads, and the determined men and women of the West. . . . Well-researched. . . . A fast-paced story with plenty of action and engaging characters.”
—
Romantic Times
SUSANNA’S CHOICE
The acclaimed debut novel from Sara Luck!
In a dusty Nevada mining town, an aspiring newspaperwoman crosses paths with a wealthy entrepreneur from San Francisco, and everything changes—including her own uncertain destiny.
“An exciting read. . . . A passionate, adventure-filled historical romance.”
—Shadowfire Press
“Heartwarming. . . . Rab and Susanna have a sweet relationship that slowly evolves into a sensual, loving romance. . . . This one’s a keeper!”
—
Night Owl Reviews
(5 stars, A Night Owl Top Pick)
“Sara Luck has skillfully interwoven a solid story line of greed and corruption with a just-right soupçon of romantic tension.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“It has everything a historical romance reader could want—love, danger, secrets, destiny, fate, seduction, passion, silver mining, and finding true love. An exciting story with strong characters and vivid descriptions of Americana history.”
—
My Book Addiction Reviews
“A promising debut.”
—
Romance Views Today
“Luck is an author to watch. Her well-developed characters, accurate historical settings, and hot, naked men will have readers turning pages.”
—
RT Book Reviews
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ONE
Highland, Illinois—September 1882
J
ana
Hartmann had just released her class and was wiping the chalkboard when she heard a young voice behind her.
“Miss Hartmann, you are the bestest teacher I’ve ever had,” six-year-old Stanley Fickert said.
“Well, thank you, Stanley,” Jana replied. “And even though I’m the only teacher you’ve ever had, I do appreciate your thoughts. But I’m sure you meant to say I am the
best
teacher you’ve ever had.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I said. You are the bestest teacher in the whole world, I bet.”
Stanley ran to Jana and buried his head in her skirt as he squeezed her around the legs, then, with childlike embarrassment, turned and ran out of the classroom.
She smiled as she watched the boy disappear through the door, then she picked up the feather duster and began cleaning chalk dust off the oak desk that sat at the front of the room.
Jana enjoyed teaching youngsters. Hearing the praise that Stanley had just given her was a huge motivator to carry on with her exhausting day. She arrived at the schoolhouse before seven each day, where she taught more than fifteen children, ranging in age from Stanley’s six, to three young ladies who were nearly fourteen. She smiled when she thought of “her girls,” as she called them. Any of the three was capable of taking her job, and she called upon them often to act as tutors to the younger children who were enrolled. She found teaching to be pleasant, at least pleasant enough to take her mind off her second job.
Glancing up, she saw that the big clock above the blackboard showed a quarter to three. She was going to be late, and that wasn’t good.
Quickly, she put away her duster and grabbed some composition books that she would grade before turning in for the night. Putting them into her knapsack, she hurried out the door, setting the latch as she left. When she reached the road, she began to run with an easy lope. Being even a minute late was all it took to incur her stepfather’s sizable wrath.
Jana’s father, Johann Hartmann, had died when she was three years old, and Marta, her mother, had remarried, to Frederick Kaiser, within a few months of Johann’s death. That happened in Geldersheim, Germany, twenty-one years ago. In truth, Mr. Kaiser was the only father Jana had ever known, but Jana found it telling that, for her whole life, she had never called him anything but Mr. Kaiser.
Mr. Kaiser had a small farm in Germany, and in five years he and Marta, working both on his own farm and hiring out to others, saved enough money to emigrate to America. Jana, as a child, was left to care for her sister, Greta, who was four years younger. By the time Jana was five, she could build a fire and make eggs and toast for both herself and her sister, which allowed her mother to labor in the fields during the growing season.
Jana was eight when they arrived in America. At first the family settled in St. Louis, with its large German population, but Frederick soon moved his wife and children thirty miles east to a small farm near a Swiss settlement that also had a large complement of Germans.
Marta insisted that both girls get an education, and thanks to Sister Mary Kathleen, the kind old mother superior at St. Paul’s Catholic School, Jana excelled. When she arrived at St. Paul’s, she spoke no English, but within a year she was not only speaking English, but French and Latin, too. She also insisted that Jana not only continue to speak German, but learn to read and write it as well.
Sister Mary Kathleen taught by dwelling on the good things the children did, and she seldom resorted to the switch for discipline. Now, in her own classroom, Jana tried to follow the old nun’s methods of seeking the good and sparing the rod.
Even though Jana earned a salary from teaching school, she still lived and worked on the Kaiser farm just outside town. Because of Sister Mary Kathleen, Jana had been one of the first recipients
of the state’s coveted township scholarship to go to Illinois State Normal College. But Mr. Kaiser had refused to allow her to travel the 150 miles to the school.
Again, Sister Mary Kathleen had interceded. She arranged for Jana to use her scholarship to attend McKendree College, just sixteen miles away in Lebanon. That way, she could easily return home to help out in the fields when she was not in school. Jana had stayed with a doctor and his family during the week in Lebanon, and in exchange for her room and board, she was expected to do housework. But her room was not furnished, so her mother paid for that. When her stepfather found out that his money was going to Jana, he made her sign a contract with him to repay every cent with exorbitant interest. Now that she had returned to Highland and was living at home, he insisted she pay room and board.
“You must hurry. Your
Vater
and Greta are in the field now, and the light, it will be gone soon,” Marta Kaiser said when Jana got home. Jana’s mother had lived in America for sixteen years, but still spoke English with a heavy accent, often throwing in German words.
“He is not my father,” Jana replied in a low voice.
“Ssssh . . . he has been your
Vater
since you were a little girl. There is much work to do.”
Jana changed quickly into a faded denim dress, then pulled on a bonnet and tied the strings under her chin, covering her ash-blond hair. After pulling on gloves, she grabbed a cane knife from the back porch and hurried out into the field. There,
her stepfather was cutting cornstalks while Greta stood them in shocks.
Greta looked like a somewhat frailer version of Jana, with the same ash-blond hair and blue eyes. When the two young ladies were dressed up for church, they turned the head of every young man in Highland and were universally declared to be “the two prettiest young ladies in town.”
Frederick, who was slightly shorter than Jana’s five foot eight inches, looked up as she approached the field. Frederick was strong from a lifetime of physical labor, with a round face and a misshapen nose, which was broken when he was a boy.
“It is late you are, and this field we must finish before dark,” he said angrily.
“I’m sorry, I had to clean my classroom.”
“It is here your work is, not the
Schule
. And not the pictures you draw.”
“I earn the money to pay you for my room and board at the school. And I paint on my own time.”
“If you work hard like you should, you would have no time for art. No more talk now. Work.” Frederick motioned with his cane knife. “Your sister, since morning she has worked. You, you work only three, four hours today.”
Frederick and the two young women worked in silence, chopping the cornstalks then standing them upright to allow thorough drying before storing them for feed for the livestock. The final task was the most irritating to Jana—twisting twine around the shock, taking care to prevent the errant dry leaves from cutting her arms and face.
She looked toward Greta and noticed that she
had fallen behind. Her sister was frail and suffered from a malady that made it difficult for her to breathe, and the dry corn silks made it nearly unbearable for her. Jana could hear her wheezing and gasping.
“Papa, please,” Greta pleaded, “I cannot work anymore.”