Welcome to Mandy's Madhouse
Home of Romance Author
Madeline Baker/Amanda Ashley

Chapter 1

Kelsey St. James had always hated vacations. She hated the last minute rush at work to get everything in order so she could take four weeks off, she hated trying to decide where to go, she hated packing, she hated coming home and unpacking and getting ready for work again.

But she didn’t hate anything as much as she hated scraping old wallpaper off walls, which was how she was spending her vacation. After several years of indecision, her great grandmother, Nana Mary, had decided to redecorate the old place with the idea of perhaps renting it out in the summer since no one in the family had used it much in last few years. So, here she was, on a beautiful day in mid-April doing what she hated the most.

With a sigh, Kelsey brushed a lock of hair from her forehead and regarded the wall in front of her. The first layer of paper, put up in the last couple of years, had come off with ease. The layer underneath, which was a faded red-and-gold stripe that must have been a knock-out in its day, had been hung sometime in the late 1800’s and seemed determined to stay on the wall for another century or two.

Shaking her head, Kelsey reached for the spray bottle wondering, for perhaps the twentieth time that day, why she had ever agreed to do this. She could have hired someone to do it for her, but somehow that just didn’t seem right, not when Nana Mary had asked Kelsey to do it. The sly old dear. Nana Mary knew full well that Kelsey would do anything she asked. Nana usually had an ulterior motive whenever she asked Kelsey for a favor, knowing that Kelsey would never refuse, but if her great grandmother had some hidden agenda this time, Kelsey was at a loss to figure out what it might be.

“After all,” Nana Mary had said cheerfully, “your father’s right. If we don’t fix it up, it’s going to fall down before I can rent it out.”

Kelsey had to agree with that. The old house was just a summer place located on an acre and a half of land just outside of Rapid City. She had to admit it was in pretty bad shape. Kelsey had spent her vacations here with her great grandparents when she was a little girl. She remembered sitting in front of the fireplace, roasting marshmallows, while her great grandfather told her stories about the Old West, exciting tales of Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane, Doc Holliday and Big Nose Kate, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Frank and Jesse James, the Dalton gang, George Armstrong Custer and his ill-fated battle against the Sioux and Cheyenne at the Little Big Horn.
Of course, Papa Joe had idolized all the old cowboy stars like Gene Autry and Roy Rogers, Lash LaRue, and Red Ryder, Hopalong Cassidy and the Cisco Kid. His especial favorites had been The Lone Ranger and Tonto, and The Rifleman. Papa Joe’s favorite western movies had been the ones directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne and Ward Bond.

Papa Joe had been quite a history buff, too. He liked nothing better than to talk about the Old West. He often declared he had been born in the wrong time, that he should have been born back in the early 1800’s, when men were men. He had loved telling stories about the old days. He described places like the Custer battlefield and Deadwood Gulch so vividly, it was almost as if he had actually lived there when the Indians roamed the land and Wild Bill Hickock played cards at Saloon No. 10. Wild Bill had been one of Papa Joe’s favorite characters. Papa Joe had told Kelsey so much about Wild Bill she sometimes felt as if she had known Hickock personally. During his life, Hickock had been a Deputy Marshal at Fort Riley and a scout for Custer. He’d been a sheriff in Ellis County, Kansas, a marshal in Abilene, and he’d spent a year with Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show. But the thing most people remembered about Wild Bill was that he had been shot in the back of the head by Jack McCall while he was playing poker. Hickock had been holding an ace of spades, an ace of clubs, the eight of spades and the eight of clubs, and the jack of diamonds, a hand that was known forever after as a dead man’s hand.

Over the years, Papa Joe had collected stacks of books, both fiction and non-fiction, about lawmen and gunfighters and men like Wyatt Earp who had worked on both sides of the law. Papa Joe’s intense fascination with Wyatt Earp and the gunfight at the O.K. Corral was the reason he had bought the old house in the first place. Somewhere along the way, Papa Joe had gotten hold of the notion that Wyatt had once lived in the house. Whether that was fact or fiction didn’t matter. Papa Joe had bought the house for a song back in 1949; now the land alone was worth a small fortune. At the moment, she was sorry she hadn’t suggested they level the house and sell the land!

Kelsey muttered a mild oath as she scraped her knuckles against the wall. She hated tedious work like this. She ripped off another strip of stubborn red and gold paper and tossed it into the large cardboard box sitting in the middle of the floor. The box was almost full. Next time she took a break, she would have to empty it or bring in another one.

She squirted more water on the wall, wondering, as she did so, what was going on at Russell, Russell and Raglan. She loved her job to the exclusion of pretty much everything else, which was a good thing, because it was her job that had kept her going when she filed for divorce five years ago. She shook her head. Had it been that long already?

For a moment, she let herself remember the past. She had married Nick right out of high school. She had never been popular and she had married the first man who had asked her, certain that if she didn't accept, no one else would ever ask her. Some girls were young and foolish; she had been young and stupid. Nick had encouraged her to go to work and once she was working steadily, he had conveniently lost his job, and although he was always out looking for another one, he never seemed to look very hard. To her dismay, he seemed perfectly content to stay at home and watch TV. She couldn’t remember when he started drinking. First it had been beer and an occasional drink after dinner. Then an occasional drink became two and then three. She had tried to get him to go to AA, she had pleaded with him to stop drinking, she had nagged him, she had ignored him. Nothing had worked. Not knowing what else she could do to help him, she had immersed herself in her work. She had started working at Russell, Russell and Raglan’s as a lowly clerk typist and worked her way up the corporate ladder. Five years later, she had a management position with a secretary of her own.

Two years after that, she had been promoted to Vice President in Charge of Sales. She would never forget that night. Nick had been killed in a car accident on his way to a company party to celebrate her promotion. That had been almost three years ago. Sometimes she felt guilty because she had never loved him. Sometimes she felt relieved that he was gone, which only made her feel more guilty. A year after his death, she had started using her maiden name again.

With a shake of her head, she banished her memories into the past where they belonged.

She pulled another strip of paper off the wall. It was a little depressing, tearing down a part of something that her great grandfather had loved so much. She had never truly shared her great grandfather’s fascination with the Old West. It had been a rough, untamed time in the history of the United States. Had she lived back in those days, she would have stayed in the east, safe from Indian attacks and flash floods and the myriad other catastrophes that had assailed the pioneers who had been adventurous enough to go traipsing off across the plains. She couldn’t imagine anything that would have dragged her from the security and comfort of life in the East for the wild, untamed frontier.

Not for her the rigors of moving westward, traveling by covered wagon, fighting the elements and the dust and the wild terrain, sleeping outside in all kinds of weather, praying that no one would get sick or break a leg or need a dentist, hoping that your food and water would last from one stop to the next. Not to mention the ever-present threat of attack from Indians and outlaws and other unscrupulous characters who had populated the Old West.

No doubt about it, she would have made a lousy pioneer. But she would have given anything to hear one of her great grandfather’s stories again. Her great grandfather’s disappearance was a mystery. Nana Mary declared she had no idea where he’d gone. One day he had been there, she had said with a shrug that seemed completely out of character considering the gravity of the situation, and the next he had been gone. That had been over a year ago, and no further explanation had been forthcoming. It was most peculiar. At his age, it was unlikely that he had run off with another woman, though anything was possible. Kelsey secretly feared he had been the victim of foul play, though she never voiced her opinion aloud because Nana Mary was convinced that Papa Joe would return.

Kelsey blew out a sigh as she yanked the last strip from one wall. She had moved all the furniture out of this room except for a tall, narrow bookcase. Taking hold of the bookcase, she rocked it back and forth until it was in the center of the room.

Turning back toward the wall, Kelsey frowned at the door that had been hidden behind the bookcase. Why would anyone put a piece of furniture in front of a door? And where did that door lead to? A room that held only sad memories, perhaps?

She thought of all the times she had stayed in this house, both as a child and as an adult. Nana Mary had ever mentioned a hidden room. What was through that door? A sudden shiver ran down Kelsey’s spine as her imagination sprang to life. If she opened the door, what would she find? A long forgotten fortune? A room full of cast-off clothing and old furniture? A dead body? She shook off her morbid thoughts. Maybe it just led into a closet, though she couldn’t imagine anyone blocking a closet. No one ever had enough closet space. Maybe it just led out into the side yard.

Curious now, Kelsey wiped her hands on her jeans and turned the old glass knob. She had expected some resistance from a door that hadn’t been opened in who knew how long, but it opened without a hitch. None of the things she had imagined lay on the other side. Instead, she looked out on a narrow dirt road that separated two tall wooden buildings. But that was impossible. There were no other buildings this close to the house.

In the distance, she heard the mournful howling of a dog and what sounded like a car backfiring.
Feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland, Kelsey stepped through the doorway.


Chapter 2

T. K. Reese sat back in his chair, his hat pulled low while he regarded the cards in his hand. He had three queens and a pair of deuces - a full house. He tossed five dollars into the pot, then glanced around the saloon, thinking he had stayed in this one horse town long enough. It was time to move on, before someone recognized him, before a wanted poster wearing his name and description showed up on the bulletin board outside the sheriff’s office.

Reese glanced at the two other men at the table. Ed Booth raised Reese’s bet. Old man Neff folded, and Reese raked in the pot.

“That’s it for me, gents,” Reese said. Pushing away from the table, he scooped up the greenbacks and shoved them in his pocket.

Going to the bar, he ordered a whiskey. He knocked it back in a single swallow, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and left the saloon.

Outside, he glanced up and down the street. It was near dark, and quiet save for the notes of a tinny piano coming from a saloon across the street. He stood there a moment, enjoying the quiet, a quiet that was suddenly punctuated by a gunshot and the mournful howling of a dog somewhere in the distance. Reese shook his head. No doubt some of the cowboys from the neighboring ranches were letting off a little steam.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Reese strolled down the street. Except for Saturday nights, Grant’s Crossing was a peaceful town. No one knew him here, no one cared about where he came from, or where he was going. The chances of being recognized were pretty slim. Maybe he would stick around for another couple of days.

He was headed for the hotel at the end of the street when he heard a woman scream, followed by a strangled cry for help.

Running toward the sound, Reese darted around the corner of the hotel and almost slammed into a man and a woman who were locked in a violent struggle. The woman screamed again, then scrambled backward as Reese grabbed the man by the arm, spun him around, and drove his fist into his face. The man dropped like a pole-axed mule.

The woman stared up at him, her eyes wide and wary.

Reese lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I don’t mean you any harm. Do you know this hombre?”

The woman glanced at her attacker. “No.”

Kelsey stared at the man who had come to her rescue. He was tall and broad-shouldered, muscular but not beefy. And good-looking, though that didn’t begin to describe him. With his long black hair, dark brown eyes, and dusky skin, he reminded her of the way Antonio Bandaras had looked in the movie, Desperado. Tall, dark, and dangerous, she thought. But it was his clothing more than his good looks that held her attention. He wore a long-sleeved gray shirt, black trousers, and a black cowboy hat. There was a black kerchief knotted at his throat. And a big gun holstered on his right hip.

She shook her head. Men didn’t walk around with guns strapped to their hips, not in the twenty-first century.

A noise at the mouth of the alley drew her attention. Looking past the man who had come to her rescue, she watched a heavy-set man mounted on a dark horse trot by.

“You all right, miss?” Antonio’s double asked.

Kelsey looked at him and slowly shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “I don’t think so.”

Reese swore softly. Unless he missed his guess, the woman staring back at him was about to faint. The thought had no sooner crossed his mind when thought became fact. Darting forward, he scooped her into his arms before she hit the ground.

She was a pretty little thing, he mused, with her long dark hair and pretty green eyes. But what the hell was he going to do with her now?
#
Kelsey woke with a start. Feeling slightly disoriented, she sat up, her gaze darting around the room. Where was she? Not home, that was for certain! The room was small and square. The walls were white and bare. A white porcelain bowl and pitcher sat atop a scarred, mahogany chest of drawers. Limp white curtains hung at the room’s single window.

The man who had come to her rescue sat in a chair by the window, regarding her through narrowed eyes.

“What am I doing here?” she asked.

“Laying in my bed at the moment,” he replied.
She scrambled off the mattress as if it had suddenly caught fire.

“Whoa, girl, slow down. I don’t want you fainting on me again.”

She blinked at him. “I fainted?”

Reese nodded. “That guy you were wrestling’ with, was he a friend of yours?”

“No, I never saw him before in my life! And I hope I never see him again.” She crossed her arms over her chest in an age-old gesture of self-protection. “I…thank you for…for what you did,” she said, edging toward the door.

His gaze moved over her. He had seen women in trousers before, but never in trousers that fit like a second skin, and never in such a bright shade of pink. He had never seen a shirt quite like the one she was wearing, either. It was white and it clung to her upper body, outlining her breasts. The words, I'm PMSing and I've got a gun, so look out buster, you'd better run - whatever the hell that meant - were printed in blood-red letters across the front of the shirt. He didn’t know what PMSing was, but there was no way she was hiding a gun, not in that outfit.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” he remarked.

“No. Well, thanks again. I think I’ll be going now.”

“Suit yourself.”

She hurried toward the door as if she was afraid he would stop her, muttered, “thanks again,” as she opened it and bolted out of the room.

Reese stared after her, then shook his head. Pretty or not, she was a strange one and he was well rid of her.

#
Kelsey stood on the boardwalk outside the hotel, her mind whirling as she tried to make sense of what she saw. The world as she knew it appeared to have vanished. There were no sidewalks, no paved streets, no electric lights, no mail boxes, no automobiles, no houses with neat green lawns and three car garages. Instead, the sidewalk was made of narrow wooden boards, the streets were hard-packed dirt, and people apparently rode horses, judging by the number of four-legged creatures she saw tied to hitching posts along the street. The few men she saw were dressed in old-style Western clothing. They all wore hats of one kind or another, though cowboy hats prevailed, and they all wore gunbelts.

She was dreaming, she thought. That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation. She had been reminiscing about Papa Joe and his fascination for the Old West and she had fallen asleep. And now she was dreaming.

And she was ready to wake up. She pinched herself, and it hurt. It never hurt in dreams. But what else could it be? Good Lord, was she losing her mind? Hallucinating? Lying in a hospital bed, unconscious? In a coma? Maybe she had died. She glanced around again. No, heaven couldn’t possibly look or smell this bad!

Closing her eyes, she willed herself to wake up. “Just a dream,” she whispered. “it’s just a dream. When I open my eyes, I’ll be in Nana Mary’s house.” She nodded. “I’ll count to three and open my eyes and I’ll be home. One. Two. Three…”

She opened her eyes but nothing had changed. Two cowboys trotted past. One of them tipped his hat in her direction. A boy ran down the street, a puppy yipping at his heels.

Fighting a rising tide of panic, she spent the next two hours trying to find her way back to Nana Mary’s house but to no avail. She went up and down every street twice but nothing was familiar. She saw houses, but none looked remotely like Nana Mary’s house. She found what she thought was the narrow street that she had seen when she opened the door, but it led to a dead end.

It was full dark and Kelsey was on the verge of tears when she made her way back to the hotel, only then realizing that she was starving and that she didn’t have any money with which to pay for a meal or a place to spend the night. She glanced through the window of the hotel, wondering if the desk clerk would let her spend the night on the small sofa in the lobby.
Blinking back her tears, she went inside and approached the man behind the desk.

His gaze moved over her in blatant disapproval, but he pasted a smile on his face and said, “May I help you?”
“I don’t have any place to spend the night.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” he said, plucking a key from a board on the wall behind the desk. “Room Six is available.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money just now,” she said.
The desk clerk replaced the key with a flourish. “Then I’m afraid Room Six just became unavailable.”

“Would it be all right if I spent the night on your sofa?”

“I’m sorry, but no.”

With a nod, Kelsey left the hotel. Outside, she sat down in one of the wooden rocking chairs. Fighting the urge to cry, she stared into the growing darkness. Where was she? And how was she going to get back home where she belonged?

She shivered as a chill wind blew down the street. Folding her arms over her breasts, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, hoping this nightmare would end before she froze to death.

#
Reese sat at a back table in the corner saloon, one hand fisted around a glass of beer. He had spent the last hour trying not to think about the woman in the alley, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind, couldn’t stop worrying about her. He knew two things for certain: she wasn’t like any woman he had ever met before, and she didn’t belong here. He told himself she was none of his concern. He had his own problems to worry about. He didn’t need to take on any more. And that woman was trouble from head to foot, in spite of all the lush feminine curves in between.

Muttering an oath, he grabbed his hat from the rack and headed for the door. He would just make sure she was all right and then he would forget her.

Stepping out of the hotel onto the boardwalk, Reese saw the object of his unrest huddled in a rocker on the hotel boardwalk across the way.

With a shake of his head, he crossed the street. Her eyes were closed, and she was shivering.
“Hey.” He tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide and scared. “Oh,” she murmured, pressing one hand over her heart. “It’s you.”

“Yeah. What the devil are you doing out here at this time of night?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have any money and…I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Reese grunted softly. Trouble, he thought again. She was nothing but trouble. Sweeping her into his arms, he pushed the hotel door open and stepped inside.

“Are you crazy?” she exclaimed. “Put me down this instant!”

“Hush.”

“Here now,” the desk clerk said as Reese strode toward the staircase, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m taking this woman to my room.”

“Now, see here,” the clerk said indignantly. “This is a respectable hotel. We don’t allow that sort of thing…”

“Don’t be such an old fuss budget, Wexler. She’s my sister.”

The desk clerk stared at Reese dubiously. “Your sister, huh? Well, you’ll have to pay double for the room.”

Reaching into his pants’ pocket, Reese pulled out a silver dollar and tossed it to the clerk, then continued toward the staircase.

“I can’t stay here with you,” Kelsey protested as he carried her up the stairs and down a narrow corridor.

“Well, you sure as hell can’t stay outside,” he retorted, awkwardly unlocking the door to his room with one hand while clutching her to his chest with the other. Stepping inside, he kicked the door shut with his boot heel, then set her on her feet. “There’s a storm comin’.”

“But I don’t even know you. I don’t even know where I am.”

Removing his hat, he hung it on the hook beside the door. “You lost?”

“Yes,” she said, “I think I am.”

“Well, you’re in Grant's Crossing.”

“I never heard of it.”

He shrugged. “I’m not surprised. It’s not much of a town.”

“What…what year is it?”

“Last time I looked, it was 1871.”

Feeling suddenly light-headed, Kelsey sat on the edge of the bed. “No, that’s impossible.”

“I think you must have taken a bump on the noggin during your scuffle with that hombre,” Reese said.

That had to be it, Kelsey thought. She had fallen off the ladder at Nana Mary’s and she was lying unconscious on the floor having a nightmare. Of course, what other explanation could there be?.
“You’re not real,” she said, which was too bad, because he was easily the most gorgeous hunk of man she had seen in a long time. She glanced around. “None of this is real. I’ll just lay down for a little while and when I wake up, I’ll be home and you’ll be gone.” The thought saddened her. She hadn’t been attracted to a man in months. Just her luck that the one man who sparked her interest was just a figment of her imagination.

Reese stared at her as she removed her funny looking shoes and socks, then stretched out on his bed. She looked normal enough, he thought, but she was at least one ace short of a full deck.

To his astonishment, she was asleep the minute she closed her eyes. Moving toward the bed, he picked one of her shoes up off the floor, thinking he had never seen anything quite like it before. Dropping her shoe, he picked up one of her socks and turned it over in his hand. It was fuzzy and white with little pink and red hearts sewn around the top edge. He dropped the sock on the floor, then looked at the woman again. If there was one thing he knew for certain sure, it was that she wasn’t from around here. She was sleeping on her side, her head pillowed on her hand. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her eyelashes thick and dark against her cheeks.

For a moment, he considered doing the gentlemanly thing and sleeping in the chair, and then grunted softly. What the hell! It was his room and his bed. Blowing out the lamp, he removed his gun belt and hung it over the bedpost, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots and socks, removed his hat, kerchief and shirt, and slipped under the covers.

He swore under his breath when the woman rolled over and snuggled up against him, warm and soft and curvy in all the right places.

Damn. It was going to be one hell of a long night.

#
Kelsey sighed and nestled closer to the source of the warmth at her back. A warmth that snored softly.
Suddenly wide awake, she rolled over, a gasp escaping her lips when she saw the man lying beside her. Apparently the dream or nightmare or whatever it was, wasn’t over! She stared at him a moment, admiring the width of his shoulders, the thickness of his lashes against his cheeks, his fine straight nose. She was tempted to run the tip of her finger over his full bottom lip, to run her fingers through his thick black hair.

Before she lost the battle and gave in to temptation, she slipped out of bed and crossed the floor to the window. Drawing back one of the limp, white lace curtains, she gazed down at the scene below, unable to believe what she was seeing. As her rescuer had predicted, it had rained last night as evidenced by the puddles in the muddy road. But now the sky was blue and clear and the sun was shining.

Across the street, a woman wearing an apron over a long gingham dress was sweeping the boardwalk in front of her shop. A few doors down, two old men sat in the shade playing a game of checkers. A wagon loaded with hay rumbled down the muddy street. A big spotted dog sniffed at a pile of horse manure that was still steaming. Several horses were tied to hitching posts up and down the street. In the distance, a clock chimed the hour.

She glanced back at the bed as the stranger stirred. She didn’t know a thing about him, not even his name. For all she knew, he could be an outlaw or a murderer, although that seemed out of character. After all, he had saved her from the clutches of that horrid man in the alley and offered her a place to spend the night. But the night was over now, and like Dorothy, all she wanted to do was get out of Oz and go home. If only she had a pair of ruby slippers and a good witch to show her the way.

Tiptoeing across the floor, she was about to open the door when a sleep-roughened masculine voice said, “Going somewhere?”

Lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, Kelsey turned to tell him she was leaving but the words died in her throat. He was sitting up in bed now, the covers pooled around his hips. His long black hair was sleep-tousled. The stubble of a beard shadowed his jaw. But it was his broad chest and six-pack abs that drew her gaze. That and the fine line of black hair that arrowed down his chest to disappear beneath the covers. She had seen numerous men without their shirts, both in real life and in movies, but never, ever, anything to compare with this man.

“You all right?” he asked, one brow arched quizzically.

“What? Who, me? Oh, yes, fine,” she replied, then felt her cheeks grow hot when her stomach growled.

“Sounds like you need some grub.” He threw back the covers and slid his legs over the edge of the bed. “Just let me get my shirt and my boots and I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do if you’re gonna eat.”

She couldn’t argue with that, nor could she stop watching the play of corded muscles in his arms and back as he shrugged into his shirt and pulled on his socks and boots. She watched, speechless, as he slung his gunbelt around his lean waist, buckled it, and settled it on his hips. He ran a hand through his hair, then plucked his hat off the bedpost and set it on his head.

“Ready?” he asked.

She stared at him. Ready? She couldn’t go out to eat looking like this. She needed to shower and wash her hair and change her clothes. She needed deodorant and a toothbrush. And a toilet!

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I need to…I need a…” She searched her mind, her cheeks burning as the word she was looking for popped into her head. “A privy.”

“Under the bed.”

She blinked at him, then nodded.

“I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”

Kelsey waited until he left the room, then peered under the bed. As she had feared, there was a white enamel pot there. To her horror, she saw that he had apparently used it sometime during the night.
It wasn’t until she was almost finished that she wondered what people in the Old West had used for toilet paper.

#
Reese paced the hallway. She was a strange one, all right, with her funny clothes and odd footwear. Where had she gotten such fripperies? Not from around here, that was for damn sure.

He turned as the door to his room opened and she stepped into the hallway.

With a nod, he moved toward the stairs, glancing back to make sure she followed.

Downstairs, Reese led the way into the dining room. He chose a table in the far corner, away from the windows. Ever aware of the price on his head, he sat with his back to the wall. The woman sat across from him, her hands folded primly in her lap. Eyes wide, she stared around the room like she’d never seen a hotel before.

“You got a name?” he asked.

“Kelsey. Kelsey St. James.”

“Strange name for a female, Kelsey.”

She shrugged. “My dad was hoping for a boy. Are you going to tell me yours?”

“Reese. T. K. Reese.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Reese,” she murmured.

He doubted that. “Just Reese,” he said. “So, how’d you happen to wind up here in Grant's Crossing?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I don’t believe it myself.”

“You’re not married or anything, are you?” One thing he didn’t need was an angry husband beating on his door.

A look he couldn’t quite fathom flashed in her eyes and was gone. “No, I’m not married. Are you?”

“No, ma’am, and I don’t intend to be.”

The waitress came to take their order, her eyes widening when she saw Kelsey’s attire. Reese couldn’t blame her. He found himself staring, too.
Reese ordered steak, eggs, and black coffee.

Kelsey started to ask for a blueberry bagel and a latte but swallowed the words and asked for bacon, eggs, and coffee instead, since she was pretty sure bagels were as much a rarity in this place as hot running water and mint-flavored toothpaste.

The food, when it came, was plentiful and good. She hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before and she ate quickly, then sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee, which was definitely not Starbucks.

Reese gestured at her empty plate. “You want some more?”

“No, thank you. Well, do you think they have any muffins?”

“Only one way to find out.” Reese motioned the waitress to their table. “Hey, Caro, you got any muffins?”

“For you, Reese, I’ll find one.”

“That’s a good girl. Bring us a couple, will ya? And some more coffee? So,” he said when the waitress was gone, “what are your plans?”

Kelsey shook her head. “I don’t have any. I guess I’ll have to find a job.” She breathed a sigh, thinking she was probably over-qualified for any job she could find in a hick town like this.

The waitress, Caro, brought a plate with two muffins and set it on the table, along with some butter and a pot of honey. She refilled their coffee cups. Then, with a smile at Reese, she walked away, her hips swaying provocatively.

Kelsey spread a little honey on one of the muffins. It was surprisingly good and she ate it quickly, then licked the honey from her fingertips.

“Go on,” Reese said, gesturing at the plate, “you might as well eat the other one, too.”

“I…I think I’ll take it with me for later,” she said, thinking it would likely be the only thing she’d have to eat the rest of the day.

“You about finished then?”

“Yes. Thank you for breakfast. I’ll pay you back when I can.”

He waved her thanks away. “No need.”

Kelsey followed him out of the dining room and onto the boardwalk, squinting against the sunlight. “Thank you again,” she said, “for the room, and everything.”

He nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

She forced a smile. She was used to taking care of herself back home. She only hoped she could do so here.

“Well, goodbye,” Kelsey said, and squaring her shoulders, she turned and walked down the boardwalk. Before she did anything else, she was going to have a try at finding the door to Nana Mary’s house one more time.

#
Reese watched her go. Kelsey. It still struck him as a strange name to hang on a female. And she was all female. Being a red-blooded male, he couldn’t help admiring the sway of her hips or noticing the way her trousers outlined her long legs and shapely behind. He had felt that shapely behind pressed against his backside last night. It had provoked a number of interesting fantasies, all of them involving the two of them getting to know each other better. Much better. Her scent had teased him all night long, her nearness had been both torment and temptation.

Glancing down the street, he noted that he wasn’t the only man watching her progress. Several men along the boardwalk stopped whatever they were doing to admire her as she passed by. The thought that other men found her attractive rankled somehow. Admitting that it bothered him rankled still more.
Turning on his heel, he headed for the nearest saloon. A good game of poker and a glass of whiskey would soon put him to rights again.

REVIEWS

HAWK'S WOMAN
Hallie Josephine McIntyre doesn’t remember much about her father. He abandoned her was she was four, then her mother died not long afterwards. Her grandmother raised her until thirteen, then she went to live in the convent when she passed away. Now at the age of seventeen, she feels her path leads her to becoming a nun. When she finds an injured man hiding out, she wonders what brought him to the convent. She takes him to the barn for a more secure hiding place. Clay had no idea where he was and certain the posse was still on his trail. The pain was intense but the vengeance he sought ran deeper. Soon Sheriff Mason Clark arrives looking for the half-breed escapee, John Walking Hawk. When Sheriff Clark insists on questioning everyone at the convent, Hallie must find another hiding place for the man who has pierced her heart. When they share a kiss, Clay realizes it is dangerous stealing kisses from her. She is only seventeen, just a kid, and he is on the run from the law, subject to be hanged. It is time to get far away from that place because the more time he spends with Hallie, the more dangerous the situation becomes.

I love the dialogue between Hallie and Clay. When Clay was discussing his daughter and the episode with his wife, this reader could feel the depth of his emotions. Madeline Baker has a style of writing that hypnotizes the reader. I love how she fashions two believable characters and takes them on a whirlwind adventure with romance that spirals. Hawk’s Woman is full of surprises that intensify with each turn of the page. Once I started reading, it was hard to put down. I love the way Clay shows his deep inner feelings for Hallie. It is like they have been soulmates and finally found each other after all these years. This poignant read is rich in detail with the old West, and is extraordinary in every way.

Sensuality rating: Mildly sensual
Reviewer: Linda L.
September 16, 2008

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LAKOTA LOVE SONG
Susan at Night Owl Romance said:
Betrayed by white men and left for dead, Blue Hawk is prepared to die but regrets not being able to seek his revenge on those that betrayed him. A vision comes to him of a white woman and he believes that through her he will get his revenge against the white men. Kaylee Matthews loves the freedom of the western life she lives now. While playing and hiding from a friend, she comes across an Indian who is severely wounded. Unable to leave him to die, Kaylee hides him and nurses him back to health. Blue Hawk awakens to see the woman from his vision and when recovers, he rides back to his people and takes Kaylee with him. His intent is to trade her back to her people, but a bond grows between them that will forever change both of their lives. Kaylee is torn between returning to her family and staying with Blue Hawk and the Lakota people that she has come to care for. Can they find a way to coexist without losing each other to the prejudices that will pull them apart?

Madeline Baker has penned a heart-warming romance set during the turbulent times of the late 1800’s where the Native American people struggled to hold onto the land and traditions that they hold sacred. This story will pull you into that time period where life and death, right and wrongs are experienced through the characters within this plot and the emotions they bring out in the reader. Lakota Love Song is a fascinating read with romance and characters that will touch your heart. Enjoy!

The Romance Studio said:

Kaylee Matthews loved the West; when her mother and step-father brought her to the Dakota Territory, she dreaded the change. She never missed her previous home—just her deceased father. Her relationship with her step-father, Shaun, was tense. Her mother, Emma, tried to keep the peace between the two of them. Kaylee and her neighbor, love-struck Randy Harris, were riding over the ranch when they found an Indian nearly dead. Against Randy’s arguments, Kaylee insisted that she take him to their line shack and nurse him back to health. Randy was opposed, but agreed after he tied the Indian’s arms to the cot. After several days, Blue Hawk, as she came to know him, forced her to go with him as he returned to his people. He planned to ransom her back to her family for guns and ammunition. That fell through and the more they stayed together, the more attracted they became to each other.

This was a well-written story with more than one history lesson included. There were details, sometimes gory, about the battles. However, buried within the history lessons and war accounts was a beautiful love story. Ms. Madeline Baker did an excellent job creating a plot which was not only diverse but also distinct. The main characters, while from different worlds, found something with each other they neither had seen before.

Her supporting cast members were great personalities with believable traits that made them amazingly interesting to read about. The storyline gave insight into a myriad of people who, both white and Indian, truly cared about their families. Throughout this extra long novel, I could not imagine how Ms. Baker could possibly manage a happily-ever-after scenario. I don’t want to give anything away, but the ending was shocking.

I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves historical romance, likes Indian/​white confrontations, and anyone who needs to refresh their memory of past history. It is a book which will definitely grab your attention and, even though it’s plus-sized, the book will stay in your mind for a long time.
Reviewer: Brenda Talley
November 11, 2008

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WOLF SHADOW
Romance Junkies said:

Ten years ago, at the tender age of seven years, Teressa Bryant was kidnapped by the Lakota Indians. With very little recollection of her birth parents, Winter Rain (Teressa) grew up happily as an Indian. Just as Winter Rain was to marry a Lakota warrior, a handsome stranger called Wolf Shadow, caught her eye as he rode into her village. From that moment forth, Winter Rain was torn between two men. Should she follow her heart’s desire to be with Wolf Shadow or should she play it safe by marrying the man that she had known all her life?

Chance McCloud was hired by the Bryant family to locate and bring home their long lost daughter. As luck would have it, Chance was part Lakota Indian and known as Wolf Shadow among the tribe. Although, it was easy for him to locate the missing Bryant daughter; Chance would never unwillingly take her, fearing it would cause a major riff with his relationship to the Lakota. So, Wolf Shadow tried to convince Winter Rain to return to her rightful family. But, the more time Wolf Shadow spent in Winter Rain’s company, the more he wanted to claim her as his woman. Wolf Shadow did not want to return Teressa to her family to collect the huge reward money he badly needed to save his ranch.

WOLF SHADOW is the first novel I have read from author Madeline Baker. Ms. Baker is a fantastic storyteller, so this will definitely not be my last reading of her work. With her thorough research and well-expressed characters, Ms. Baker managed to bring an incredible story to life. Throughout the entire read, I imagined myself sitting right in the middle of all the exciting happenings. There were times where I cried or laughed out loud, and others where I was caught up in the romantic rapture of Wolf Shadow and Winter Rain. Not for one moment did I grow tired, or find my mind wandering away, as I flipped from one page to another. WOLF SHADOW was a tale filled with heartache, sorrow, betrayal, determination, love, trust and most of all, hope. This is one book you will not want to miss!
12/​10/​08

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APACHE FLAME
Nanette at JoyfullyReviewed.com said:
Alisha Faraday was a young girl when she fell in love with Mitch Garrett. Mitch was Apache, poor and had a rough home life. Alisha was the preacher’s daughter and had everything she could ever want, except she had to hide her friendship with Mitch. Once he was a teen, Mitch left town to make something of himself, but he swore he’d come back for Alisha. Alisha waited for Mitch for a while, but as time went by and he never contacted her, she reluctantly moved on. When Mitch’s father dies sending him back to town, he and Alisha feel that same pull. But Alisha is engaged and Mitch is bitter. Through heartbreak and loss and revealed secrets and lies, will Mitch and Alisha finally have a shot at future together?

Apache Flame is a tender love story filled with angst and laced with excitement. Mitch and Alisha’s story is very sweet. They practically grew up together and their lives revolved around each other, even when they were apart. The tales Mitch tells about the Apache people are interesting and endearing, as is his real Apache family. Mitch and Alisha face one obstacle after another in Apache Flame, but in the end they prove that true love conquers all!