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Tuesday, September 11, 2018

A Westward Adventure by Kristy McCaffrey - September #blogabookscene #westernromance #prairierosepubs @prairierosepubs

By Kristy McCaffrey

Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePubs.

September's theme is Critters and Creatures. This excerpt is from A Westward Adventure, a sweet historical western romance novella.


When Amelia rescues a dog, Ned hopes that it will keep her in town permanently.

Excerpt

“What’s that smell?” Ned’s voice startled Amelia from her thoughts. “Are you drinking?”

“No.” She scooped water with a bucket and dumped it over Riggs. “I’m washing him with rum.”

“What on earth for?”

“It’s wonderful for cleansing the hair—I’ve used it myself—and it can defer disease. Riggs was filthy, and I’d wager housing unwanted critters in his fur.”

“Smart, except he’ll smell like he was just at Laramy’s. I’ll bet he needs a double-washing.”

“He’s certainly dirty, but he’s a happy fella.” She let Riggs lick her face. “And maybe just a bit into his cups.”

“Where’d you get the rum?”

“Teddy had a bottle and said I could use it.”

“Do you need help?”

“No. I’m almost done.”

It’s now or never. She shored up her courage, since she had no idea if Ned would be here come morning.

“Ned, I wondered if I might ask you something.” She became breathless as her nerves kicked up a notch.

“Sure.”

She cleared her throat and was glad for the darkness that blanketed them. From where he stood on the back porch, he couldn’t see her hands shake. Setting down the bucket, she buried them into Riggs’ wet, liquor-infused fur.

“I wondered if, well, I wanted to ask you if, well...if you happened to be looking for companionship, then I’d be interested.”

“I beg pardon?” He sounded confused, but it was too late to turn back now.

“I like you, Ned. You’re very handsome, and I’m impressed by your rugged occupation. I don’t think I’m a bad-looking woman, and I’m seeking the company of a man.” She chanced a glance at him and even in the darkness she felt his stillness, his rapt attention on her words. She really had no idea how this was going.

“You want me to court you?” he asked.

“Well, that would be nice of you, but that’s not necessary. I’m willing...to be your woman without it.”

He slowly took the steps and came to the tub. Riggs wagged his tail, sending water flying into Amelia’s face. She stood, wiping her eyes, and hoped for a favorable reaction from Ned. Maybe he’d even kiss her. In hopeful anticipation, she waited.

“Amelia, I guess it’s no secret what’s between us. It’s crept up rather fast, I’ll admit. However, I never thought I’d say this, but I take offense by your assumption that all I’m good for is taking advantage of a woman, that I’d think nothing of ruining your reputation.”

“But you’re a renegade, you’re a man who doesn’t stay put anywhere. You ride with the wind.”

He stood close enough that she could see his frown.

“I’ll admit I haven’t set down roots,” he said, “but, as I told you, I’m changing that with my purchase of the Parker place. And, one of these days, I’m lookin’ to get married.”

“I don’t want to get married.”

“Well, good, cuz I’m not asking you.”

“Oh.” Now she felt foolish.




Connect with Kristy


Monday, September 10, 2018

Critters and Creatures #BlogABookScene


I’m excited about this #BlogABookScene. One of my readers’ favorite scenes is from my first book, TEXAS GOLD. An unexpected blizzard hits Lucille, Texas. My heroine, Rachel, refuses to lose their animals to the weather, so she and her brother fashion a corral and bring them into the cabin. Imagine our hero’s surprise when he wakes up in a strange house to find two goats, four chickens and his horse just across the plank floor.




Excerpt--TEXAS GOLD
Where am I? Jake lay still and took stock of his surroundings. He was definitely inside a structure. Though the air was ripe with the scent of animals, he didn’t think he was in a barn. 
Something lay across his body, holding him in place. He listened for the sounds of people, footsteps, whispered words. Nothing. The silence was broken only by the shifting of a log in the fire. If anyone stood watch, he couldn’t hear them. 
Taking care not to give away the fact he was awake, he opened his eyes a slit. He could see out of the right one, but the left eye was blurry and swollen nearly shut, thanks to a lucky punch from that murdering pack of thieves that jumped him.
How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was dragging himself through a raging blizzard after Harrison and his men had beaten the holy hell out of him. Now the scents of animals, wood smoke, and lavender surrounded him. 
Glancing down, he found the source of the lavender. A woman lay stretched out on top of him. Silky blond hair the color of the summer sun ran in a river across her shoulder and onto his bare chest. Her forehead was smooth and she had a small nose that turned up a little at the end. Long lashes a little darker than her hair fanned across the milky skin of her cheeks. In spite of his battered body, he had a sudden strong desire to taste that skin. 
He shook his head to clear it and bit back a curse as the movement shot pain through his skull. In a rush, the memories of the previous day returned. And so did the agony. Besides his head and face, they must have landed a few boots to his ribs. His side burned like hell-on-fire. 
Taking shallow breaths to ease the pain, he looked around. The rising sun glowed around the edges of the window shutters. He couldn’t see a guard, but he hadn’t really expected to find one. If Harrison was around, a half-dozen guns would have finished the job they’d started last night. 
He turned his head a little to one side and located the source of the smoke. A poorly built red-stone chimney staggered in drunken lines all the way to the whitewashed ceiling. Whoever had built it must have been working his way through a jug of moonshine at the same time. The floor was probably plank since he didn’t smell dust, but all he felt beneath his fingers was wool and the give of a straw mattress. 
He rolled his head to the other side, stretching aching muscles. The room wasn’t large, but it was well kept. There was a curtained doorway behind him and stairs in the far corner led to an attic or second floor. Plenty of places for someone to hide. He’d check them out, as soon as he could coax his battered body to move. 
A sturdy rocker was pulled up close to the warmth of the fire. There weren’t any fancy things lying around. A small plank table with benches down both sides separated the kitchen from this side of the room, but the table was bare except for a couple of books and a guttered candle. Nothing to give a hint of where he was or who’d taken him in. 
He looked to the other side of the room and blinked his good eye to clear his vision. It didn’t help. In the far corner, he thought he saw two goats, four chickens in dilapidated cages, and his horse. There were animals inside the house.




See you next month!

Tracy


Sunday, September 9, 2018

Book review: Wild Texas Hearts by Tracy Garrett

Wild Texas Hearts by [Garrett, Tracy]

Blurb:

A broken man…
Revenge has driven Wolf Richards since the brutal murders of his wife and young daughter. Returning home with his son, Cal, he faces memories and loss at every turn. Raising Cal alone seems to be more of a challenge than he can handle. He can never replace his perfect Emily—until a rough-edged female falls into his arms—and living becomes a new adventure.

An unlikely woman…
Lizzie Sutter is as rough as a cowboy and as compelling as a stormy sky. Dressing as a man allows her to hire on with a cattle drive, only to be discovered and set adrift near Civil, Texas. When she stumbles onto an abandoned cabin, she makes herself at home. Then the owner of her newfound home shows up and Lizzie discovers just what’s missing from her life—and her heart.

Two wild hearts tamed…
Lizzie hasn’t a feminine thing about her, yet she calls to something deep inside Wolf, something he can’t deny. Being a woman has always left her feeling lacking, until he shows her their WILD TEXAS HEARTS belong together…


My Review:

My heart melted with this slow burn romance.

Wolf and his son Cal had alot of healing to do after the death of the rest of their family. But in the midst of it, their lives entangle with Lizzie.

I loved the way Wolf was as a father, a grieving widower working through the pain, and then as the man who was figuring out what a treasure he had in Lizzie, and then not letting her go.

Lizzie, for being a not typical woman in that time frame, still had her own beautiful sense of femininity and grace, just packaged and wrapped a little differently, and gave her all to Wolf and Cal as only she could. She proved to be an amazing woman, perfect for the Richards men.

After reading Texas Gold, I was thrilled to discover that Wolf got his own hea and I loved how it turned out for him, Cal, and their Lizzie.


Purchase  Link:


Wednesday, September 5, 2018

The Last Wilding: I DREAM OF YOU by Sarah J. McNeal #Wildings







For years I have written about the Wilding family in the fictional town of Hazard, Wyoming. The saga began with Joe Wilding and his adopted, part Lakota, brother, Banjo. I loved them so much I began to write about their children, and then their grandchildren. They were my family and my friends. I cannot see pictures of Wyoming or hear about the state without thinking of my Wildings.
I enjoyed having the Wildings help each other out of tough situations. Through these stories they counseled one another and shared their hopes, dreams, and burdens. They supported each other and fought for each other. And they had no problem speaking their mind when they thought a family member was about to derail.
And now I have come to the last Wilding story, their part Lakota cousin, Kyle Red Sky. He is the wisest of the Wilding clan and he has a special Lakota gift. I have written Kyle into several previous stories in which he has leant a hand to another Wilding in trouble. He has given wise counsel to his cousins on occasion, and he has warned them when he knew, in his mystical way, that trouble was coming.
And now, for my final Wilding, I am telling Kyle’s story. Of all the Wildings, Kyle is the most deserving of happiness. To make this last book special I have included scenes here and there in which each of the Wildings from previous stories shows up. I included Joe and Lola Wilding who are now the elders of the tribe. I wanted to let them say goodbye. Kyle has always been dear to my heart and it was my desire to show his depth of character in this last story. I hope I succeeded.

I Dream of You
By Sarah J. McNeal
Fire Star Press
A Dream…A Kiss… And Deadly Secrets
Blurb:
Kyle Red Sky dreamed of the woman with fire in her hair, but when she comes to town, something dark and dangerous follows her. He wants to help her, but she is reclusive, avoids men, and the scarf she always wears around her neck tells him she harbors a dark secret.
Mia Beckett is a survivor. Finally, she has found sanctuary in a small western town far from danger where no one knows her or her past and she intends to keep it that way. But she can’t forget the man she saw once in a dream who told her the paths they walked were destined to meet. However, when she meets Kyle Red Sky and realizes he is the man from her dream, she knows, if the dream becomes a reality, he may die.

Excerpt:
Kyle kicked open the door of his mother’s former dress shop despite the sign that read, No Men Allowed. The raging fire upstairs in the private quarters made this an emergency, certainly enough to ignore that sign. Smoke began to fill the shop as he raced up the stairs calling out the name of the new shop owner. “Miss Beckett! Miss Mia Beckett, where are you?”
As he reached the landing of the second floor, he heard someone cough nearby. With the wet blanket wrapped around him he rushed toward the direction of the cough until he found the woman lying on the floor almost unconscious from smoke inhalation. As soon as he removed the wet blanket he wore and wrapped her in its protective layer, he scooped her up in his arms to carry her away from the flames and smoke. The scarf she wore fell away from her neck and her head lolled back against his chest to reveal a thin, straight scar that ran all the way across her throat from her left ear to her right. It wasn’t an old scar, most likely no more than two or three months in the past. She attempted to raise a hand as if to cover her throat and replace the silk scarf. He’d always seen her wear a scarf of some description or another around her neck since her arrival in town. Now he knew all those scarves were not her unique sense of fashion, but her desire to hide the scar. She was a woman attempting to keep a secret.
In a whisper he could barely hear, she said, “Please, don’t let them see.” And then she fell unconscious.
“You have my word.” He knew there was little chance she could hear his promise, but it didn’t matter.
Buy Link:  Paperback    Kindle  



Sarah J. McNeal is a multi-published author who writes diverse stories filled with heart. She is a retired ER and Critical Care nurse who lives in North Carolina with her four-legged children, Lily, the Golden Retriever and Liberty, the cat. Besides her devotion to writing, she also has a great love of music and plays several instruments including violin, bagpipes, guitar and harmonica. Her books and short stories may be found at Prairie Rose Publications and its imprints Painted Pony Books, and Fire Star Press and Sundown Press. She welcomes you to her website and social media:





Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Women's Rights in the Old West

C.A Asbrey


First of all it's important to be clear that we’re talking about recent immigrants who came from the eastern U.S. and from across the globe, particularly in the 19th century. Indigenous women had actually lived in the West for thousands of years, and the structures of their cultures had little or no effect on the laws Europeans brought with them across the continent. 
Thing actually were different out West. They had to be to attract more people to make the perilous journey and to make best use of the resources available to them. Who cared if the best person for the job was a woman if they were the only person for the job? And women weren't slow at seizing the opportunities which presented themselves out on the new frontier. 

Voting

After the Civil War women found plenty of opportunities in the West which were not available in the East: everything from the right to vote, to equal pay for women teachers to more liberal divorce laws. Wyoming Territory passed a series of such laws in 1869, partly in an effort to attract more white settlement, which, of course, was also intended to unsettle indigenous people. The West was the first home of women’s suffrage in the U.S., with nearly every western state or territory enfranchising women long before women won the right to vote in eastern states.
The east, however, beat the old West by a long way in simple voting though.  Lydia Chaplin Taft (left) became the first woman in the USA to cast her vote in an election. She voted in an official New England Open Town Meeting, at Uxbridge, Massachusetts, on October 30, 1756. This was only a proxy vote for her son though. Throughout the 18th century women gradually lost the right to vote at all. For women to have a meaningful voice, however, it took until 1838. Women in Kentucky benefited from the statewide woman suffrage law allowing female heads of household in rural areas to vote in elections deciding on taxes and local boards for the new county “common school” system. 
The first woman to serve as a mayor in the USA actually had her name placed on the paper as a prank in 1887.  Susanna Madora Salter (below right) was active in the local Woman's Christian Temperance Union and Prohibition Party organizations. Her name had been placed on a slate of candidates by a group of men against women in politics hoping to secure a loss that would humiliate women and discourage them from running. Because candidates did not have to be made public before election day, Salter herself
did not know she was on the ballot before the polls opened. When, on election day itself, she agreed to accept office if elected, the Women's Christian Temperance Union abandoned its own preferred candidate and voted for Salter en masse. Additionally, the local Republican Party Chairman sent a delegation to her home and confirmed that she would serve and the Republicans agreed to vote for her, helping to secure her election by a two-thirds majority. She was not the first woman actually elected to the office though. The first woman recorded winning a mayoral election was Nancy Smith in 1862, who declined to be sworn in as mayor of Oskaloosa, Iowa.

Property Rights

Under colonial Spain and newly independent Mexico, married women living in the borderlands of what is now the American Southwest had certain legal advantages not afforded their European-American peers. Under English common law, women, when they married, became feme covert (effectively dead in the eyes of the legal system) and thus unable to own property separately from their husbands. Conversely, Spanish-Mexican women retained control of their land after marriage and held one-half interest in the community property they shared with their spouses.
If a woman on the Illinois prairie, the only child of a prosperous farmer, lost her parents and inherited the family homestead she could take that with her in marriage. But if her husband had a mind to sell the farm and travel west, she could not stop the sale. However, if she grew up near Albuquerque, her husband could not sell the property you had brought to the marriage, thus giving her significant leverage in household decisions. So she might not end up bouncing around on that buckboard after all.
There were numerous landed women of note in the West. For example, María Rita Valdez operated Rancho Rodeo de las Aguas, now better known as a center of affluence and glamour: Beverly Hills. (Rodeo Drive takes its name from Rancho Rodeo.) After the U.S.-Mexican War, the del Valle family of Southern California held on to Rancho Camulos, and when Ygnacio, the patriarch, died, his widow Isabel and daughter Josefa successfully took over the ranch’s operations. Other successful entrepreneurs and property holders, who defended their interests in court when necessary, included San Francisco’s Juana Briones, Santa Fe’s Gertrudis Barceló, San Antonio-born María del Carmen Calvillo, and Phoenix’s Trinidad Escalante Swilling. In a frontier environment, they utilized the legal system to their advantage as women unafraid to exert their own authority.

The Arts

The West gave women special opportunities as authors. Aspiring writers saw literary “material” in the stuff of their daily lives in frontier, rural, and urban western spaces. They shaped that material into letters, journals, sketches, essays, and stories for eastern magazines and presses—and received popular acclaim.
For readers outside the West, the settings these women described were exotic: California gold camps and desert outposts, northwestern logging and mining communities, Rocky Mountain and Great Plains homesteads. Elinore Pruitt Stewart, writing from Wyoming in 1913, placed a series of letters about her homesteading experience in the prestigious Atlantic Monthly. She reported on the letters of thanks she received from appreciative readers, like the elderly woman who told her “the Letters satisfied her every wish. She said she had only to shut her eyes to see it all, to smell the pines and the sage.” Through its association with romantic national mythologies of sublime landscape and heroic endeavor, an ordinary woman’s life on a ranch in Wyoming seemed to mean more—and to reveal more—than one on a farm in Wisconsin or Connecticut.
Yet women writers were just as likely to revise as support these mythologies, which centered on male endeavor, and they frequently portrayed western sites as not wild and liberating, but provincial and claustrophobic. The Story of Mary MacLane, for example, one of the most notorious books of 1902, depicted the 19-year-old author’s desperation to escape her middle-class home in the copper
boomtown of Butte: “Can I be possessed of a peculiar rare genius,” she demands, “and yet drag my life out in obscurity in this uncouth, warped, Montana town!” Nevertheless, the city MacLane denounced was key to her literary success: Readers would have been far less intrigued by the thoughts and experience of a girl hailing from a more familiar place.

A Fresh Start and a New Identity


Many people, male and female, found a fresh start in a move to the West, leaving behind old mistakes and identities. Some left infidelities behind, others criminal convictions, while couples unable to divorce in their original homes, fled to states where divorce was possible. Some simply lived in sin or presented as married couples. 
Divorce is never easy, but some states made it possible to try to temp people to their territories. It wasn't uncommon for people to find out they had been divorced without their consent, or without even informing them. 
The difference between divorce in the Old West and other areas of the world at that time is that women were able to make their own decisions about their future and take charge of their own lives while still retaining the respect of their peers. They were also able to support themselves with respectable employment without feeling censured by the local society. As Augusta Tabor proved, there were plenty of jobs to be had other than working in saloons.
Single women often gathered in large groups to travel to the West in search of husbands, and for good reason. For instance, after the American Civil War, few men returned home and the wives and daughters of these deceased soldiers were forced to fend for themselves. This changed society in many ways, particularly marriage.
 One of the most famous divorces in the Old West occurred between Augusta Tabor (left above in the prince nez), a loyal wife, and her philandering husband, Horace, who fell in love with a much younger woman, moved out of the home and left Augusta to fend for herself and care for their child alone.
Augusta refused to divorce her husband, to no avail. The divorce was finalized and the young "Baby Doe" became the new Mrs. Tabor. Horace Tabor died a broken man. He lost his fortune and his reputation. At the time of his death he was working as the Postmaster in Denver, but for a short time was forced to live in a mid-class hotel with his new wife and their children. 
Augusta Tabor, who had supported her husband's ventures every step of the way by cooking for miners, setting up tents, renting rooms in their home, and doing everything she could to provide for her family, was told she would receive nothing from her husband when he left her. However, she continued to work hard and became a shining example of the women of the American Old West--determined and proud. When she died she left their son an inheritance of over a million dollars. Baby Doe Tabor (right) died in a shack outside a mine once owned by her husband.
It was a new chance for many people. Ethnic minorities who could pass as white frequently took the chance to grasp every social advantage their appearance gave them. A step away from an area where their background was known, let them live the American dream and save their children from the prejudice they had suffered.  
Nicholas Earp, the father of Wyatt Earp, moved west due to debt problems, having served time for bootlegging, and accusations of tax evasion. That, of course, placed his offspring in the right place to make his mark on American history. 
Ty Burrell (left) is descended from a former slave who moved to Oregon and passed for white. Names were anglicized, and past indiscretions were never mentioned in an attempt to start again. The old West was littered with people building a new future while hiding their own foundations - which is probably why it's so interesting.

     

INNOCENT AS SIN (The Innocents Mystery Series) (Volume 2) by C. A. Asbrey

Nat Quinn and Jake Conroy are just doing their job—robbing a bank! But when Nat sees Pinkerton agent Abigail MacKay is already there, he knows something isn’t right. Is she on the trail of The Innocents again, or has she turned up in Everlasting, Wyoming, by coincidence?
Abi can’t believe her bad luck! Nat and Jake are about to make her true identity known, and botch the undercover job she has carefully prepared for—a job she’s been working on for months. When Jake discovers she’s cooperating with a sadistic bounty hunter who never brings in his prisoners alive, he suspects Nat might be the next target. How could Abi betray them like this?
On top of everything else, someone has dumped a frozen corpse after disguising it as a tramp. The town is snowed in and the killer isn’t going anywhere, but can Abigail’s forensic skills solve the murder before anyone else is killed? Abi and Nat manage to admit their feelings for one another, but will that be enough to overcome the fact that they’re on opposite sides of the law?  
The Innocents and Abigail MacKay must work together to solve the murder case, but they’re still best enemies. It’s an emotional standoff, and they’re all INNOCENT AS SIN…

EXCERPT

     It took another half-hour before Jake saw her neat, feminine figure approaching, her light blue dress standing out against the sun-parched dust of the streets. By this time, his breath came in rapid, shallow pants until his fingers prickled and his head spun. The everyday sounds of the town swamped his senses until they crashed around his skull in an echoing cacophony. Her voice reverberated, unusually strident and harsh, echoing between the screaming and shouting from years ago in his head.
     "Jake?" Abigail's eyes darted around drinking in the surroundings, looking for danger. Why greet her openly in the street, near her gate? His glazed eyes sparkled and the pupils looked enormous, but he didn’t seem drunk.
     "Abi, come with me. It's urgent."


       

Monday, September 3, 2018

Cypress Hills and Fort Walsh

CYPRESS HILLS and FORT WALSH

In an earlier blog I’d mentioned that setting is so important to ground a story. I also feel it’s more important to write about what you love over what you know because your passion will lead you to research the subject further and that passion will show in your story. Well, I know I love the Cypress Hills—a jack pine forest that spans the borders of both provinces. It became Canada’s first inter-provincial park created in Saskatchewan in 1931 and extended into Alberta in 1951. And fortunately for me, I’ve visited the Hills several times over the years. The park is a dark smudge on the south-eastern horizon and is just a 45-minute drive from where I live. The Cypress Hills are steeped in rich and at times turbulent history from the hunting grounds of the Blackfoot, Cree, and Gros Ventres, fur traders, whiskey smugglers, horse thieves and the North-West Mounted Police. The Métis were the first Europeans to settle in the area, many of them being fur traders.

As per the website: The hills are not true mountains but are rather the remnants of erosion of a Tertiary plateau of sediment formed during the initial uplift of the Rocky Mountains. This uplift caused the local portion of the Great Plains – above which the hills now rise – to be elevated, with the result that rivers flowing to the north and south then eroded most of the softer sediments onto the lower part of the plains. Today, the Cypress Hills form a major drainage divide separating rivers draining to the Gulf of Mexico (via the Missouri River) from those draining to Hudson Bay and James Bay via the Nelson River; thus the Cypress Hills form a water divide. There is a ranch northwest of Eastend, Saskatchewan, called Dividing Springs Ranch; the water from this spring goes both south to Gulf of Mexico and north to Hudson Bay.[citation needed]
The Cypress Hills are among the northernmost points that remained above the southwestern margin of the Laurentide Ice Sheet during the most recent glacial period, the Wisconsin glaciation. The Cypress Hills are surrounded by a series of morainal ridges composed of glacial till deposited when a glacier paused during its retreat 15,000 years ago

Back in the late 90’s, when a Garth Brooks song sparked the thought…what if? and a rollicking Ian Tyson song extolled the beauty of a full moon on the prairie, I knew my story had to be a western and since my writing style lent itself to historicals, Beneath A Horse-Thief Moon was born. 


I can’t remember any more at what point I chose the Cypress Hills for my setting. I’d already set one historical in Medicine Hat and two more in Calgary and Edmonton, so ideally this story should be in a different province. I’ve come to the conclusion it had to be Ian’s song that clinched the setting. I hope you’ll visit the link for this song as I’m sure you’ll nod along with me and your toes will tap to the polka beat.


Last summer, when I dusted off my book and finished the edit for Prairie Rose Publications, I needed to revisit the Cypress Hills to double-check my facts and reassure myself that my memory of the area served me well. I had forgotten how far east the forest spans and had to take into consideration the distance a horse and rider could comfortably travel, especially when chasing horse thieves at night by moonlight.



I fell in love with the area all over again. I invited my son, Nick, along because he takes wonderful photographs, which I wanted for the website he created for me (please check them out at www.elizabethclements.com. Fortunately for us, it was a weekday, and we practically had the fort to ourselves, so there was no waiting for “heads” to get out of the way of the camera. I particularly love the close-ups of displays of utensils, or surgical instruments, glimpses of everyday life, neatly polished boots…and the rope beds with a thin mattress and a quilt or buffalo robe for warmth.



Fort Walsh was established in 1875 when the newly-formed North-West Mounted Police rode down the steep slope and built a fort using the tall jack pines that grew in abundance. The police force was created two years earlier because of growing problems with outlaws, wolfers and illegal whiskey traders selling “firewater” to the Aboriginals. The wolfers were particularly hated because they would kill buffaloes to lure in the wolves, who would eat the carcasses poisoned with strychnine to get their pelts, then would leave the carcasses to rot, which were sometimes eaten by native dogs, resulting in painful deaths. 



The park website tells: Historically the Cypress Hills were a meeting and conflict area for various Native American and First Nations peoples including the CreeAssiniboineAtsinaBlackfootSaulteauxSiouxCrow, and others. During the 19th century Métis settled in the hills, hunting and often wintering there. The Cypress Hills Massacre, a key event in Canadian history leading to the creation of the North-West Mounted Police, occurred in the hills when a group of American wolvers from Montana massacred an Assiniboine encampment. Fort Walsh was established to bring law and order to the Canada–US border region.
All along the southern borderland west from Manitoba, forts were built to bring law and order. As a result, communities sprang up, and even more so in the ‘80’s with the building of the cross-country railroad. With the assurance of free room and meals,  $1.00 per day pay for constables and $.75 for sub-constables, men between the ages of 18 and 40 quickly applied, were trained and outfitted in red serge so as not to be confused with the navy uniforms of American soldiers. The appeal of getting their own piece of land after three years of service was a great incentive for joining the Force.
Whiskey trading had a long history, spanning back to 1821 when the Hudson’s Bay Company discontinued the rum trade because it had such adverse effect on the native population. Even after this decision, whiskey trading flourished along the banks of several rivers, especially the Missouri River and moved into Canadian territory with the shrinking of the Blackfoot Nation in northern  Montana due to the influx of people coming west to live and pursue a livelihood.  
With the arrival of the mounted police in the Cypress Hills in 1875, a new industry was born—supplying cattle and horses to the fort. Initially, supplies and livestock were brought up from Fort Benton, Montana, but before long, enterprising men settled in the Cypress Hills, took up ranching and supplied the fort with horses and cattle. There are ranches in the Hills that are owned by generations of the same family.


When one travels along the highway leading to the  Hills, one can see western-theme cutouts on the gates leading to these long-time ranches. All kinds of activities are offered in the park, horse-riding, camping, boating and overnight accommodations. Whether it’s a day trip or a vacation,  the Cypress Hills is a beautiful place to enjoy nature and breathe in the amazing scent of pine.





Sunday, September 2, 2018

"His Magnificent Distraction " -First Ladies of the Pikes Peak Region


Welcome to the second in my ongoing series about the 'First Ladies' of the Pikes Peak Region.
Part One - Elizabeth McAllister



You may wonder about the title of this post. As you will soon learn, this lady had reason to be so adored.

Cara Georgina Whitmore Scovell Bell was born in March of 1853 in Dublin, Ireland to Whitman and Caroline Mary F. Scovell. She married Dr. William Abraham Bell on May 8, 1872 at Saint James, Westminster, London, England.

So who was Dr. William A. Bell? William was born in April 1841 in Ireland to an English physician also named William Bell. He studied medicine at Cambridge University and practiced at St. George's Hospital after receiving his degree. He came to the US in 1867 where he met General Wm. Jackson Palmer. The two became fast friends. Between the them, the had a hand in creating the Denver & Rio Grande Railway (and it's various iterations). Started Colorado Fuel and Iron. Invested in real estate and helped create the towns of Colorado Springs and Manitou Springs, Colorado.

After establishing his various businesses, and medicine was not high on his list, Bell returned to England to marry Cara. Upon her arrival in  Manitou Springs, Bell set about showing what he had accomplished, and to have her meet his friend Palmer. Traveling by wagon, they visited Palmer's home in Glen Eyrie, the Garden of the Gods, the mineral springs, and Bell's sheep farm in Monument some twenty miles away. According to sources Cara seemed to thrive on these 'arduous' jaunts. Her only insistence was that her chef, Antonio Manasterlotti, accompany them. (Much to his discomfort according to history)

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Dr. William A. Bell and Cara Bell
from Pinterest - date unknown
Bell also set up a dairy farm and cheese factory in the Wet Mountain Valley, some seventy-five miles away. Other than some complaints from her chef, she appeared to love the trip to the area. It's fun to read her writing where she calls her husband, Willie and talk about her journeys. It seemed whatever or wherever 'Willie' wanted to go, Cara was up for the trip.

Cara was also a devout Episcopalian and set about searching for donors to build a church in Manitou Springs. The plans she had drawn up of an English church actually became the Manitou Railway station.

One of the promises Cara had William make was that their children would be born in England. Of course this meant some arduous travel in the 1870s-80s, but William was good to his word.  Their first child, Rowena was born January 26, 1874. Rowena at the age of three months was left with a wet nurse at Eastbourne, William's parents home and the two returned to America.

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The Briarhurst Manor today- a fine dining restaurant
photo from Wikipedia
At twenty-one, Cara set up housekeeping and was thrilled when her daughter Rowena could join them. When the temporary church was built, Cara would conduct the choir rehearsals and play the organ. It was said she pumped the organ with such vigor her feathered had would fly off.

Although five children were born to the couple, only four made it to adulthood. The Bells, Cara, William and the children traveled constantly. When home, the doors were open to guests from all over the world. Cara would tell visitors "The roof is your introduction", and despite her absent-mindedness, everyone loved William's vivacious wife.

I will end with the story of the Thomas Moran painting, 'Mount of the Holy Cross' that Cara convinced the painter to sell to them when they visited the gallery while on a trip to England. When they returned, the painting was mounted in the library. It was viewed and admired by the many guests who visited The Briarhurst Manor, as their home was named, including President Grant and wife. When William was away in 1886, a fire broke out. Cara, upon smelling smoke, got the children from the house, then stayed and with the help of a servant, cut the painting from its frame and escaped the house. The house was destroyed, but the Bells build a new brick home that remains standing today. As for the original painting, it now resides in the Autry Museum of the Old West. View the Painting Here

There is more to Cara's story, but time and space limit the telling. The Bells returned to England around 1900 to retire. William passed away on June 6, 1921 at the age of eighty-one. Cara followed in December of 1937 at the age of eighty-four. She was living in Chelsea, London, England at the time.

Cara was a helpmate, adventurer, mother, hostess and one of the 'First Ladies' of Manitou Springs. She was William's "Magnificent Distraction".


Doris Gardner-McCraw -
Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History
Member of National League of American Pen Women,
Women Writing the West,
Pikes Peak Posse of the Westerners

Angela Raines - author: Where Love & History Meet
For a list of Angela Raines Books: Here 
Photo and Poem: Click Here 
Angela Raines FaceBook: Click Here