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WILLOW CREEK
(Wyoming Territory, March 1886)

“Watch it, sod-buster!” The drunk cowboy glowered down at Nicki, or what he could see of her. Only faded dungarees and small booted feet were visible beneath the heavy winter coat and wide brimmed hat. “Don’t you know enough to get out of the way when your betters come along?”

Nicki swallowed a retort and stepped away. The man had blundered right into her as she came out of the mercantile, but the last thing she needed was trouble with three cowpokes from the Bar X.

“Hey, boy,” said the man’s tall, rangy companion. “You owe Shorty an apology.”

Nicki gritted her teeth. She’d rather spit in his face. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“We’d best teach this squatter some manners, Buck” the third man said with a sinister smile. “I say we throw him in the horse trough.”

Nicki backed up against the wall and watched the three men warily. She wasn’t afraid of a dunking, but such things had a tendency to snowball when whiskey was involved, and these men had clearly been drinking a long time. At least they were too drunk to realize they were dealing with a full-grown woman instead of an adolescent boy. Barely five foot tall, Nicki was used to people making that mistake. Even without her heavy coat, the bulky long johns effectively hid her slender figure.

Suddenly one of the cowhands lunged, and Nicki struck out with a small fist. As her assailant clutched his midsection in pain, the third man grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. Struggling wildly, she soon realized it was impossible to escape that way.

She slumped in apparent defeat and waited while the other cowboy approached. When he was a mere two feet away Nicki leaned back and swung her foot up in a vicious kick. Taken unaware, the man holding her stumbled backward as his friend howled in agony when the boot connected with his knee. But it wasn’t enough and Nicki knew it.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as the two she’d injured picked themselves up and headed for her. Desperately, she fought the hands that held her but to no avail. Nothing but a miracle could save her now.

“All right, gentlemen, I think you’ve had enough fun for one day.” The four combatants froze at the sound of a rifle being cocked. “Let the boy go.”

Nicki twisted around in surprise. The voice belonged to a complete stranger. Standing well over six foot, his bulk seemed to fill the doorway of the mercantile. A full beard hid his expression, but the blue-gray eyes glinted dangerously as he stepped forward onto the boardwalk. His appearance was nearly as menacing as the rifle he held pointed at the man restraining Nicki.

“Now, Mister,” said one of the cowboys lifting his hands. “You don’t understand what’s going on. This here is my little brother. He snuck off to town, and Pa sent my friends and me to fetch him home.”

“He doesn’t seem to want to go with you.”

“That’s because he was planning on going to the saloon and gettin’ himself a woman.” Nicki’s captor replied.

All at once Nicki found her voice. “That’s not true. I...” A hand was clamped over her mouth before she could finish.

The cowboy holding her smiled nervously. “He’s a lyin’ little brat too.” He yelped as Nicki sank her teeth into his hand. “Why you little...” He raised the injured hand to cuff his captive, then froze as the rifle barrel jabbed into the underside of his jaw.

“Somehow I find it hard to believe he’s your brother,” Levi said. “Now, are you going to let him go, or am I going to have to get nasty?”

Nicki was released, and all three men backed away. “What business is it of yours whether he’s my brother or not?”

“Let’s just say I don’t like the odds.” Her savior patted his rifle. “My Winchester and I even them up.” He glanced down at Nicki. “Can you shoot this?”

Nicki took the rifle from his hands and fired it once, making a clean hole through one of the cowboy’s hats and sending flying into the street. She ejected the shell and looked up at him.

He grinned. “That answers my question. Is that your wagon in front of the store?” Nicki nodded again, and he squeezed her shoulder. “Good. Keep these sidewinders covered while I go get it.”

In a matter of minutes, the wagon rattled to a stop beside Nicki and she felt the large, comforting presence next to her once more.

“Well, son, I’ve had enough excitement for one day. What do you say we leave these gentlemen to find other entertainment and be on our way?”

With a nod, Nicki handed him the gun. Barely glancing at the big bay mare tied to the back, she climbed into the wagon, picked up the reins and waited for him to join her. Then, with a sharp snap of the reins across the rumps of the horses, they headed out of town.

“Friends of yours?” he asked.

Nicki snorted. “Not hardly. They’re two bit cowpokes from the Bar X Ranch.” She glanced at her companion. Without the steely glint in his eyes he wasn’t nearly as intimidating. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in that.”

He shrugged. “Looked to me like you were doing all right. If there’d been one less of them I’d have probably had to save the other two from you.”

She was vaguely embarrassed by the compliment. “Well...thanks anyway.”

“Glad I could help out. By the way, the name’s Levi Cantrell.”

“Nicki Chandler.”

“Pleased to meet you, Nicki.” With a friendly smile, Levi extended his hand to her. The large callused palm was pleasantly warm as it closed over Nicki’s smaller one. In spite of his size, there was something reassuring about his ready smile and twinkling eyes.

“It’ll be late when we get home. Would you like to stay for supper?” Nicki asked impulsively.

“Maybe you should ask your mother first.”

“Don’t have one, and I do the cooking,” Nicki said sharply, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, Papa will want to meet you.”

“In that case, I accept,” he said with a smile. Pulling out his bag of tobacco, Levi glanced back at his companion. He knew all too well what it was like to grow up without a mother. His own had died when he was barely two, and he’d been nearly thirteen before his father remarried.

Levi rolled himself a cigarette, licked the edge, twisted the ends and stuck it in his mouth. At any rate, a home-cooked meal would be a welcome change from his usual fare of beans over the campfire even if it meant another cold night under the stars. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a match and struck it on the wagon seat. With a satisfied sigh, he relaxed and bid an unlamented farewell to his thoughts of a hot bath and soft bed at the saloon.

Blog # 1 Beginnings
When I finished writing Willow Creek in 1989, I started submitting it for publication. Unlike the query letters for Shadows in the Wind which hit the publishers and bounced right back at me , Willow Creek actually got a few bites. One of them was from an editor at Harper Collins. They had just opened a new line of women’s fiction called Monogram and were looking for books. The editor asked to see the whole manuscript.

I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I was. It was my first shot at a real editor! I dutifully printed the manuscript, which took about three days back then, and sent it off. Once again it came flying back to me with a form rejection letter. From the pristine condition of the manuscript, it was pretty obvious no one had read past the first page or two. I was devastated. I had spent a great deal time polishing that beginning. The words flowed in an almost poetic cadence that was music to the ear. What was wrong with that editor that she couldn’t see that?

Soon afterwards, I attended a Wyoming Writer’s conference. The main speaker was a New York editor by the name of Michael Seidman. I’ll never forget his first words to us. “I’m your worst nightmare,” he said. “If I didn’t exist, Stephen King would have invented me!” He went on to tell us how he had walked into his office at 7:30 A.M. the previous morning to find something like two hundred book proposals and manuscripts on his desk. By 10:00 every single one of them was in the mail with a form rejection letter. “You have exactly three minutes to impress me,” he said and paused for a moment while every writer in the room sat there opened-mouthed thinking what a jerk he was.

Then he continued. “Picture a woman in the grocery store. She’s in a hurry to get home and start dinner. There is a child in the cart and another hanging onto her pant leg. On a whim she decides to treat herself to a novel and stops by the book rack. At first she scans the titles until she find one that appeals to her and picks it up. She reads the blurb on the back then turns to the first page and reads a paragraph or two, flips through a few pages then puts it back on the rack. That’s all the time I have to sell your book and it’s a whole lot less than three minutes. It’s vital that you grab them with the fist sentence.”

It made a lot of sense and suddenly the beginning of Willow Creek popped into my head. I had started by introducing my two characters. A mysterious stranger rides into town and ties his horse to the hitching rack in front of the store. The scene switches to the interior of the store where a young boy (actually Nicki) chats with the storekeeper. In the middle of the conversation the stranger enters. I think they exchange a word or two like strangers might and then the boy goes outside. The point of view changes to Levi who buys some tobacco, and asks where he can get a bath and a bed for the night. He is directed to the saloon and walks out of the store just as the cowboys get the best of Nicki.

With Seidman’s words still tumbling through my mind, I realized that the beginning of Willow Creek needed help. In fact it was downright boring! At the same conference I recall someone saying you need to grab your reader, throw them straight into the action, and don’t let them up for air until the end of chapter three!” When I got home I took an honest look at my manuscript and was surprised to discover that those first three pages of sparkling prose really didn’t contain anything but some really great description of the town and my two main characters. I realized nothing actually happened for a full three pages. In the end it turned out to be a pretty easy though I remember it being quite painful at the time. All I did was cut off that first three pages and start with Nicki in mortal peril. Oddly enough there wasn’t a thing in those three pages that needed to be salvaged. Even the description of the characters was accomplished in a single line.

Two years later, the same editor at Harper bought Murphy’s Rainbow and asked to see the other two books in the trilogy. After a couple of weeks she called and offered me a contract for Shadows in the Wind, Willow Creek and two books I hadn’t written yet. (which turned out to be Meadowlark and A Window in Time) She never even realized she had rejected Willow Creek two years before and I certainly never told her.

I’ve never forgotten the lesson I learned. Every book begins with a bang, and so does nearly every chapter. I hope that tossing you right into the action with Nicki and Levi caught your interest. Better take a deep breath because the ride is about to begin!

Issue #2 By the time they reached the homestead, the sun was low in the west. Instead of the simple sod shanty typical of the area, the cabin was constructed of peeled logs and built in two sections. Though he smaller addition was separated from the main dwelling by a narrow dogtrot, the roof extended over both. Beyond the house lay a large barn, a fair sized corral and several other out buildings where chickens slowly meandered toward their roost for the night. To the east, a small creek gurgled by several tall cottonwoods, giving the homestead an air of tranquility.

Nicki jumped down from the wagon and smiled shyly up at her new friend. “Come in and meet Papa. He’s been sick, and he’ll be pleased to have company.”

Levi followed Nicki into a small but immaculate kitchen. Well scrubbed pots and pans hung on hooks by the cook stove, a set of blue dishes lined a shelf and bright calico curtains hung at the window. The furnishings were simple and, Levi’s first impression was one of cozy welcome.

“Is that you, Nicki?”

“Yes, Papa.” Nicki walked to an open doorway off the kitchen. “We have company.”

“Company?” There was a creak of bed ropes. “I didn’t hear anybody ride up.”

Cyrus Chandler’s welcoming smile barely faltered at the sight of a stranger. He was fairly tall, but the gaunt frame and unhealthy pallor showed the effects of a long illness.

“Papa, this is Levi Cantrell,” Nicki said. “Mr. Cantrell, my father, Cyrus Chandler.”

The older man’s grip was surprisingly strong as he shook hands with Levi. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cantrell. Are you a new neighbor?”

“No, I’m just passing through. Nicki and I met in town, and I was going the same way so...”

“We don’t get many visitors out here. Will you stay to supper and tell us all the news?”

“Thank you, Mr. Chandler. I’d be pleased to.” Levi grinned broadly. “Besides, your son already invited me.”

“My...” He glanced at Nicki, and a flash of comprehension crossed his face. “Ah, well good.”

Nicki’s face turned red, and she ducked her head in embarrassment. “It’s getting late,” she mumbled. “I’d better start chores.”

Levi stared after her in surprise as she hurried out the door.

Cyrus Chandler smiled. “You’ll have to forgive Nicki. Er...he’s a bit shy.”

“He is?” Levi glanced toward the door again with a look of mild curiosity. “Now, that’s something I’d never have guessed.”

“It comes and goes,” Cyrus said drily. “Have a seat.” He eased himself into a chair and regarded the man before him with great interest. Nicki had never brought anyone home before, much less a man. She was far more likely to chase them off at gunpoint. “How did you meet Nicki?”

“He was having a problem with three cowpokes from the Bar X.” Levi said. “The boy was holding his own, but things were starting to get out of hand. I just evened up the odds a bit.”

Cyrus gave Nicki a sharp look as she came through the door carrying some of the supplies from the wagon. “Mr. Cantrell tells me you had a run in with some of Herman Lowell’s men.”

“They were drunk and looking for a fight. That’s all there was to it, Papa. They didn’t have the faintest idea who I was.”

“That’s not the point, Nicki. You need to be more careful. If Mr. Cantrell hadn’t come along when he did, you might have been in serious trouble.”

“I really didn’t do that much,” Levi put in. “I think those cowpokes will think twice before they tangle with your son. He hurt them far worse than they hurt him.” He shifted his gaze to Nicki. “You said something about chores. Why don’t I unload the wagon for you?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll be done that much faster.”

“Well, all right,” Nicki said reluctantly.

Within a short time Levi had the supplies unloaded and was headed toward the barn. He had just started unharnessing the horses when he heard a stealthy noise behind him. He whirled around and found himself face to face with the business end of a double-barreled shotgun. Cautiously, Levi raised his eyes to the man behind the gun.

Though he was several inches shorter than Levi, the stocky build and broad shoulders made any thought of heroics foolhardy. The man’s features were indistinct in the dim light of the barn, but the determined set of the square jaw and the unwinking stare were distinctly menacing.

Slowly Levi raised his hands and smiled uneasily. “Just putting the horses away for Nicki,” he said. “No harm intended.”

Silently, threateningly, the man continued to stare at him.

“I’ll leave if you want.” Levi slowly started to move back, but the cocking of the rifle stopped him in mid-step. “Why don’t we just go on up to the house and talk to Mr. Chandler,” Levi said. The man might have been carved from stone for all the emotion he was showing.

“Peter!” Suddenly, Nicki was between them gesturing wildly. The man looked away from Levi but didn’t lower the rifle. Watching Nicki’s hands, he shook his head and nodded toward Levi.

“Nicki, what...,” Levi began.

“Mr. Cantrell, please. He’s nervous enough.” Nicki continued to move her hands, repeatedly linking her two forefingers. “He’s a friend, Peter. I brought him home.” Nicki reached over and removed the rifle from Peter’s grasp.

Peter looked at Levi again and began moving his hands as Nicki had. With a start, Levi realized they were communicating. The interplay between the two continued for several minutes. Finally, apparently satisfied, Peter retrieved his gun from Nicki and turned away.

“Let’s go back to the house, Mr. Cantrell,” Nicki said. Peter will see to the horses.”

Slowly Levi lowered his hands and followed Nicki out of the barn. “Your brother?” he asked in a low voice when they were finally outside.

“As far as I’m concerned he is, though I guess he’s really my cousin.”

“I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“You don’t have to whisper,” Nicki said. “Peter can’t hear you...he’s deaf.”

A look of comprehension crossed Levi’s face. “That’s why you talked to him with your hands. Your sign language wasn’t from any tribe I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t
understand any of it.”

“It’s the sign language the deaf speak on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts.”

Levi raised his brows in surprise. “That’s a mighty long way from here.”

“I know. My aunt lived in Boston but moved there when Peter lost his hearing. He came to live with us when his mother died.”

“And the sign language is the only way he can communicate?”

Nicki shook her head. “He doesn’t speak, but he reads lips pretty well.”

“He didn’t read mine. I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen... well, I mean he didn’t seem understand.”

“It was dark in the barn, and you have a beard. Peter couldn’t see your lips. Peter has suffered a great deal of abuse from people. Because he’s deaf and mute, they seem to think he’s stupid too.”

“So he’s leery of strangers.” Levi raised an eyebrow. “It seems I owe you a big thanks. If you hadn’t come in when you did I’d probably have wound up six feet under.” His friendly slap on the back nearly knocked her off her feet. Nicki caught her balance with an uncertain smile and tried to match his long strides as they walked to the house.

BLOG #2 Cyrus and Peter
Generally, the beginning of a book is the most difficult to write. There is, of course, that urgent need to grab the reader and drag them in. Even that is secondary to introducing the characters and setting without interrupting the flow of the story or being obvious about it. What makes it even harder, is that at this point in the book, the writer really doesn’t know the characters. Since this was only my second book I was a bit disconcerted by the fact that the easy flow of my first book had disappeared. And yet, from the first page, the characters were three dimensional, something I had found difficult to achieve in Shadows in the Wind.

Both Levi and Nicki gain depth here, and we discover at least part of the main conflict of the book; Nicki’s hatred of the big ranchers. For those who have read the other two books in the series, the other half is immediately obvious as well, for Levi Cantrell is one of those despised ranchers.

Two secondary characters also show up here, Cyrus and Peter. When I created Cyrus I didn’t intentionally model him after anyone. I did, however, know that he was very ill. The disease called consumption was most generally tuberculosis, but I suspect the label was used for many other lung ailments as well. With that in mind I used the one lung disease I was familiar with, emphysema. My father died of it in 1969 when I was sixteen, so I was more than passingly familiar with the symptoms. I thought about my father a great deal as I was creating Cyrus Chandler so that I would get the illness right. It wasn’t until later that I realized I had inadvertently captured a great deal of his personality as well. The keen intelligence and visionary view of the future are as much my father as the wasted body and difficulty breathing. Cyrus Chandler is not my father, but they share many of the same characteristics. It caused some problems for me down the line but we’ll get to that later.

There is no one in my life even remotely like Peter. At the time I was writing this book, I was involved in sign language classes. It is the one thing I have ever done in my life for which I seemed to have a natural aptitude and I became fascinated with the deaf community. Peter was a natural outgrowth of that interest and is one of my most favorite characters. He is definitely my most unique to date. He represented many challenges, not the least of which was coming up with dialog tags to go along with his speech. There are only so many ways to say he moved his hands.

Nicki’s tale about the deaf on Martha’s Vineyard is true, by the way. Because of a genetic defect shared among the inhabitants of the island, many of them were deaf. In order to communicate, they developed the first sign language used in the U.S. I don’t know if strangers were welcomed or that a woman with a deaf child would have moved there in the 1800’s but it was the only way I could give Peter an understanding of sign language.

I should perhaps mention, the signs Peter uses are not accurate. His sign language was the same that I was learning. It is a combination of ASL (American Sign Language) and SEE (Signing Exact English) and is used throughout the United States. The sign language Peter learned as a child on Martha’s Vineyard predated ASL by many years, though I understand many ASL signs had their origins from that early language.

If you are as fascinated by sign language as I am you may want to check out the link below. It is an on-line sign language dictionary. While you’re there check out Dr. Bill’s finger spelling tool. It’s a fun way to learn basic finger spelling or brush up on your rusty skills as I did.

Click here for an online sign language dctionary

Issue # 3

“All done?” Cyrus asked when they came in the door.

“Yes.” Nicki took off her hat and her fingers through her short curly hair. “Mr. Cantrell took the horses to the barn and ran into Peter. I never thought to warn either of them.”

“Did he give you any trouble?”

“A little, but I can’t say I blame him much. It must have looked like I was stealing the horses.” Levi’s eyes unconsciously strayed to the small figure working at the stove. Something bothered him about Nicki but he couldn’t quite place what was. He dismissed the thought as he pulled up a chair and turned his attention to Cyrus. “This is a real nice place you have here.”

“Thanks.” Cyrus smiled with pride. “Ten years ago it was just another patch of sagebrush.”

“Ten years?” Levi was amazed. “You’ve accomplished a lot in a short time.”

“We’ve got plenty of water, the soil’s good, and the three of us are willing to work.” He took a sip from his coffee cup and glanced out the window. “We settled in Iowa for a few years after we left Massachusetts, but Lady Luck didn’t smile on us until we came here. With irrigation, our crops do extremely well. Our cattle even seem to do better than most of our neighbors’.”

“That isn’t luck,” Nicki said. “We just use more common sense than they do. Herman Lowell lets his cows calve out on the open range. Too bad if that happens to be in the middle of a blizzard, or there’s a rustler nearby with a running iron,” she slammed a stack of dishes down on the table so hard they rattled. “I’m sick of the ‘cattle barons’ blaming all their problems on homesteaders and small ranchers. It’s their own incompetence that’s destroying them.” Each plate emphasized her disapproval as it thumped onto the table. “When they’re gone, people like us will still be here because we plan ahead.”

The tirade was obviously not unusual because Cyrus paid no attention as he looked at the table in surprise. “The good dishes, Nicki?”

“Nicki stared blankly down at the blue china she held in her hands. “We don’t have company very often, and I just thought....”

Cyrus smiled and patted her back as her voice trailed off. “If company isn’t occasion enough to use the good dishes, I don’t know what is.”

Levi found the entire exchange bewildering. What adolescent boy cared a hoot about what dishes they used? How many even noticed? Nicki Chandler was the damnedest boy he’d ever met.

Cyrus gave Nicki a final pat and turned back to Levi. “So tell me, Mr. Cantrell, what line of work are you in?”

“Call me Levi,” he said then quirked an eyebrow as though considering the question. “I’ve always thought of myself as a cowhand but most recently I was a sailor.”

“A sailor! I’d have never peg you for a man of the sea.”

“I wasn’t one by choice.” The blue-gray eyes twinkled. “I chose the wrong tavern to drown my sorrows in. The next thing I knew I was on my way to China with one hell of a hangover and a lump the size of a goose egg on my head.”

Nicki eyed him skeptically. “I thought nobody who got shanghaied ever made it back.”

Levi shrugged. “It’s a pretty rough life, but it’s really no harder than being a cowhand. You’re already used to being out in the worst kind of weather and you use the same muscles to work the rigging you use to throw a steer or pitch hay. Once I got my sea legs and convinced a few hard bitten sea dogs it was easier to be friends than enemies, I managed.”

Nicki raised an eyebrow. “You’re a long way from the coast.”

“I had enough of the sea to last me a lifetime. I only stayed with it long enough to get back home.”

“You’re on you’re way home then?” Cyrus asked.

“I was already there. After a couple of months I was ready to leave again.” Levi gave a rueful smile. “I guess the roving gets in the blood.

Nicki was setting the food on the table when Peter slid silently into his place. Levi smiled at him in a friendly way but the only response was a cold, stare. That stare remained fixed firmly in place all the way through supper.

Cyrus and Levi were soon deep in conversation. Even with frequent coughing spells interrupting the two men’s talk, it didn’t take long for Levi to realize a keen mind inhabited the wasted body. Since the food was delicious and the company congenial, Levi was able to ignore Peter’s hostile attitude enough to enjoy his meal. Still, he relieved when Peter finished eating, made some quick signs to Cyrus, and disappeared into the night.

After another half hour of conversation Levi uncrossed his arms and scooted back his chair. “I’d best be going. Thanks for supper and a very enjoyable evening. “

“Where are you headed?” Nicki asked curiously.

“Don’t know really. Right now I’m just going where the wind takes me.”

Cyrus coughed painfully and stood up. “Well, it was a good wind that brought you our way. We can’t offer you much, but you’re welcome to bed down in the barn tonight if you like.”

“I’m much obliged. A pile of hay is a whole lot more comfortable than the ground.”

“It’s the least we can do. We’ll expect you for breakfast in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

Cyrus gave a satisfied nod and gestured to Nicki. “Give me a hand to bed...son. I’m tired.”


“I’ve been thinking,” Cyrus began as his daughter helped him into bed. “Maybe it’s time we hired a man to help out around here.”

Nicki looked at him in surprise. “What for?”

“There’s too much work for just you and Peter.”

“Oh Papa, you’ll feel better as soon as it warms up. Look how much better you are already. Last week you couldn’t even get out of bed and tonight you were up for hours!”

Busily fluffing her father’s pillow Nicki missed the sad, almost pitying look he gave her. “Besides who would you hire? Everybody around here either has their own place or they work for The Bar X.”

“I was thinking of asking Levi Cantrell if he’d stay for a while,” he said, watching her closely.

“What?” Nicki whirled around, her eyes wide with dismay.

“I thought you liked him.”

“But we don’t know anything about him.”

Cyrus shrugged. “We know he’s a good man, otherwise he’d have just let those cowboys have their fun with you.”

“Oh Papa, you’re too trusting. Maybe he’s the sort who likes to throw his weight around. Those men weren’t really any danger to him. He had a rifle; they were unarmed and drunk besides. For all we know he may be a gunslinger or worse.”

“Gunslingers carry six-guns not rifles,” Cyrus said. “The fact he’s not afraid of a fight is a good reason for him to stay. If we run into trouble with the Bar X outfit we’ll need help. Levi Cantrell is big enough to take care of just about any problem that comes up.”

“Peter and I do just fine. We don’t need some two-bit drifter to get in our way. Cantrell said himself he’s just passing through. What happens when he gets itchy feet again?”

“I suppose he’ll leave. We won’t be any worse off than we are right now, and we’ll probably get some work out of him first.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Nicki grumbled. “There’s something about him that makes me nervous.”

“You liked him well enough to invite him to supper. What changed your mind?”

“I figured I owed him a meal. I didn’t know you were going to ask him to stay!”

“I haven’t yet,” he reminded her. “In fact I haven’t made up my mind whether I will or not. I’ll sleep on it tonight a see what the morning brings.”

“I hope it brings you some sense. It’s a stupid idea if you ask me,” Nicki snapped.

Cyrus gave a small laugh. “You’re afraid of what he’ll do when he finds out you’re a woman aren’t you?”

Nicki glowered at him.

“Nicki, Nicki, you have nothing to worry about. Levi will like you just as well as a woman.”

Nicki stomped out muttering, “Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” But she knew it wasn’t Levi that frighten her. It was herself.”

As she crawled into bed, Nicki thought of her unexplainable attraction to Levi Cantrell. It terrified her. When Samantha Chandler had run away with a handsome, but worthless gambler, Nicki had thought she was free of her mother forever. But as she’d grown older the cracked mirror on her bedroom wall had begun to tell a different story. The day she’d seen her mother’s face staring back at her, she cut her hair short and began wearing boy’s clothes.

Repeatedly, Nicki had told herself she might look like her mother but she was completely different inside. She had believed it too, until today. From the first second she’d seen Levi Cantrell she’d been drawn to him like a magnet. She’d convinced herself it was gratitude that made her invite him to supper, but deep inside she knew she had wanted to spend a little time with him.

“Well, you may just get your wish!” she mumbled punching her pillow in frustration. “But then what?” There was no answer from the darkness
******
As he lay out his bedroll on a sweet smelling bed of hay, Levi contemplated the family he’d just met. In spite of the boy’s almost feminine mannerisms, there was something very appealing about Nicki Chandler. Loyalty and courage like his were rare in full-grown men, let alone a boy who was years from shaving. Levi grinned to himself as he wondered what would happen if Nicki knew one of the despised ranchers was bedded down in the barn.

Then he sobered. Without being as expert in such matters, Levi was almost certain Cyrus Chandler was suffering from consumption. It was only a matter of time before Nicki and Peter would be alone. Haunted by a pair of violet eyes and a man old before his time, it was a long time before Levi was able to sleep.

BLOG # 3 The History behind Willow Creek
Most of my books are centered around historical happenings. To understand the conflict in Willow Creek, we need to take a look at the history on which it is based. What is now Wyoming is part of the vast prairie land that stretched across much of the interior of the continent. Buffalo roamed this land in vast herds, sometimes a million strong. Over the eons the American bison had evolved into a creature supremely fitted for its ecosystem. Not only did they keep the prairie grasses cropped, and provide fertilizer in the form of buffalo chips, they also kept the stream banks free of the plant life that would overgrow the water and choke out life by blocking the sun. The prairie needed the buffalo as much as the buffalo needed the prairie, but the balance was delicate. Too many buffalo and the prairie would be over-grazed. Luckily, Mother Nature has a way of balancing things. Even today, when buffalo herds get too big, the disease brucellosis spreads among the pregnant mothers causing them to lose their calves. Even before the land was settled and tamed, the fluctuating size of the buffalo herds was a natural part of the ecosystem.

In the 1850’s a few white people ventured into the area and realized it was perfectly suited for cattle, which were, after all, much like buffalo. Texas, meanwhile, was full of wild cattle that were there for the taking. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. A few enterprising souls rounded up great herds of wild Texas Longhorns and trailed them North to the open range where they turned their herds loose to multiply. And multiply they did. The northward migration of cattle just happened to coincide with a downward spiral of the buffalo herds. As the mighty herds dwindled, the cattle filled the ecological niche and their numbers grew. Huge tracts of land were needed too, as the cattle roamed the prairie just like the buffalo. With sweat and blood the cattlemen carved huge empires out of the unforgiving land. It was a difficult life but a profitable one. The cattle they raised fed a growing nation and provided a good living for the few men hardy enough to battle the wilderness.

At the end of the Civil War, the United States government found itself with a large number of unemployed soldiers, immigrants and displaced Southerners as well as a great deal of unoccupied public land in the West. The Homestead Act provided a 160 acre tract of land to those willing to farm it for five years and make improvements on it. To war-weary soldiers, landless Easterners barely able to eke out a living in the post-war depression, and immigrants fresh from Europe, it must have seemed like a dream come true. Like the cattleman before them, homesteaders flocked to the West by the thousands, legally claiming land the cattlemen had considered their own for twenty years or more.

The conflict between the homesteaders and the large cattle ranchers was inevitable. A multitude of books and movies have been written about it, usually portraying one side or the other as the “good-guys” and the other side as the bad. The truth is neither side was completely wrong, or completely right. Both had a legitimate claim to the land and more importantly, the water. By the time Willow Creek opens, events were already in motion that would eventually culminate in the infamous Johnson County Cattle War less than ten years after this book closes.

My great-grandparents were definitely homesteaders and I grew up on the ranch they homesteaded in the late1880’s. However, since we raised cattle and sheep as well as crops, I grew up able to see both sides. When I set out to write this book, it occurred to me I had a somewhat unique perspective and that maybe it was time to set the record straight.

Nicki Chandler is a homesteader through and through. She can’t see why the cattlemen think they have a right to the land even though they have lived there for twenty years. To her, they lost any claim they might have had by not taking out homesteads.

Herman Lowell was one of the first men to settle near the Nowood. He has spent twenty-five years battling Indians, predators, rustlers and the elements to establish the Bar X. The water from the Willow Creek Spring has provided graze and water his cattle for the better part of three decades. An uneasy truce has existed between the two families since the Chandler’s arrival but now drought stalks the land, drying up waterholes and shriveling grass.

Enter Levi Cantrell. The Cantrells aren’t exactly cattle barons, but they do have a huge ranch and the sale of livestock is their livelihood. Still at the core of the Triple C Bar ranch lie 960 acres of homesteaded land so Levi is not unsympathetic to the concept of homesteading, though his views are definitely those of a rancher.

And so the story begins. I hope you enjoy your visit to Nowood, and the little homestead on Willow Creek.

Issue #4
Ka-Thwok,...ka-thwok,...ka-thwok.

Nicki opened her eyes and spent several seconds trying to identify the sound that had awaken her. Sleep still clouded her mind as she rose and walked to the window. The eastern horizon was barely turning pink as she squinted into the half-light of dawn. Then her eyes widened in surprise. Levi was splitting firewood in the early morning chill.

Her gaze followed the strong line of his back down to the trim waist and long muscular legs while he swung the ax with effortless strength. As the sun peeked over the horizon, rays of sunlight caught tiny glints of red and gold in his hair and beard. Something quivered deep inside. What was there about this man that made her feel so strange?

Suddenly Nicki was wide-awake. It wasn’t even full light yet and Levi was already working while she stood here gawking like a fool. She dressed hastily and hurried to the kitchen to start breakfast.

In the other bedroom Cyrus stood by the window watching Levi. “So you’re not afraid of a little work,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Well, Mr. Cantrell, I think you might be just what I’ve been looking for.”

“Good morning,” Levi said cheerful twenty minutes later as he dumped a huge arm load of wood into the wood box.

“Good morning Levi,” Cyrus said from his chair at the table. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

Levi grinned and patted his flat stomach. “I’m hardly ever late for a meal.” He glanced at Nicki dumping flour into a bowl and reached for the empty water buckets. “I’ll just fill these first.”

“No!” Nicki almost dropped the bowl in her haste to grab the bucket nearest her before Levi could pick it up. “That’s my job.”

Levi shook his head and gently removed her hand from the bail. “Not this morning it isn’t. A man has to do something to earn his breakfast.”

“But...”

“No buts,” he said over his shoulder as he strode out of the house. They could hear him whistling as he pulled the bucket up from the well.

At the sound of a smothered chuckle, Nicki glared at her father.

“I think you may have to swallowed your pride on this one,” Cyrus told her. “He’s only being helpful you know.”

“I don’t want him to be helpful,” she muttered turning back to the stove. She managed a brittle
“Thanks,” when Levi set the brimming buckets next to the stove several minutes later but she didn’t look up from the large bowl of batter she was stirring.

Levi gave her a puzzled look but joined Cyrus at the table without saying a word.

It wasn’t long before Nicki slapped a plate of flapjacks on the table in front of him and walked away. Levi glanced up in surprise. Was the boy angry just because he’d given him a hand? How strange. Most boys would be delighted to get out of some of their chores.

As he ate, Levi found himself idly watching Nicki working over the hot stove. Funny how the word pretty kept coming to mind, but there was no other way to describe the combination of delicate facial features, violet eyes, and curly black hair. When Nicki reached up and smoothed a strand hair back from her face, Levi felt a twinge of something akin to distaste. Someone really should take the boy in hand and explain a few things to him. Built the way he was and with that face he’d need to be very careful of the gestures he used unconsciously. To watch him, you’d almost think he was a wo....

Levi’s eyes widened in disbelief as an incredible idea burst into full bloom. Was it possible? For a long moment he sat there with his fork suspended in midair, forgotten. At last, he became aware of Cyrus grinning at him from across the table.

Nicki suddenly stopped stirring. “Oh, darn, I forgot to wake up Peter.” She hurried out the side door and Levi gazed after her in shock.

Cyrus chuckled. “I take it you just figured out Nicki’s little secret.”

Levi carefully set his fork back on his plate, too stunned to even put his thoughts into words.

Cyrus’s grin broadened until Levi began the think the older man’s face would split. “If I were you I wouldn’t let on you know right away. She’s mighty sensitive about it for some reason.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? I gave up trying to figure out women long ago.” Cyrus sighed. “I keep hoping she’ll come to her senses, but there’s no arguing with her until she does.”

Levi nodded silently, his mind still trying to grasp the significance of his discovery. How could he have been so blind? From the first he’d thought there was something more to Nicki than met the eye, but that was about the only accurate observation he’d made. Levi was a man who prided himself on his ability to see through people, a skill that had been woefully lacking this time. If nothing else, he should have realized Nicki was female by his reaction to her. He’d never be attracted to any boy that way, not even one with beautiful eyes.

“Last night it sounded like you might be looking for work. I’ve been thinking of hiring somebody to help out around here.” Cyrus paused. “I can offer you a roof over your head, three square meals a day, and a decent wage. Are you interested?”

Levi took a bite of his breakfast trying to bring order to his confused thoughts. “I might be. What kind of work is it?”

“We don’t have much in the way of stock, but what cattle there are need to be rounded up and branded. Then there’ll be plowing and planting before too long. Other than that, just the usual upkeep, at least until mid-summer.”

Levi contemplated this as he chewed. Maybe it was time to stop for awhile. “I could use a job, but I’ll warn you right now, I’m no a farmer. My experience has always been with horses and cattle. Other than putting up hay, I’ve never done any sort of farm work. I’m willing to learn but I’ll be a complete fool where plowing is concerned.”

Cyrus chuckled. “At least you’re honest. Peter can teach you all you need to know. It isn’t really difficult. Between the two of you there shouldn’t be any reason for Nicki to do it. I’d like to ease her out of as much of the heavy work as I can.”

“Peter hated me on sight.”

“If you treat him like a normal human being instead of an idiot, he’ll come around.”

Levi hardly needed to give the question any thought. He was needed here. Besides, the back- breaking work of a homestead should leave him too tired to be restless. “My father always said it was impossible for me to resist a challenge,” Levi said with a smile. “You just hired yourself a cowhand.”

“Good.” A smile spread across Cyrus’s face. “You’d better finish your flapjacks before Nicki gets back. The mood she’s in, she’s liable to think you don’t like her cooking.”

Blog # 4 The Homestead on Willow Creek

I often use real places as settings in my books. Willow Creek isn’t one of them, but there is a weird connection that I didn’t discover until later. When I started to write the book, I had a vague idea where the homestead lay. If you leave Riverton heading for the Gas Hills, you will eventually wind up in Casper. Not many people travel that way since most of it is on dirt road and the highway is considerably faster. Most of the trip is through dry desolate sagebrush, but tucked away between two high hills is pretty little valley with a stream running down through it. The first time I saw it I knew it was where the Chandler Homestead was located. It’s on Poison Spider Road, which might also be the name of the creek. Somehow that didn’t seem like a good name for a creek everyone wanted to control, or a good title of a book for that matter. So I used the valley for my setting and named it Willow Creek after the creek that runs through South Pass City a hundred or so miles away. There was really no particular reason to call it Willow Creek, it just popped into my head and I used it.

If you have followed the Blogs from the other two books in this trilogy you will already know that a substantial number of stories and ideas came from my Great grandfather’s autobiography. It's basically his adventures homesteading in Wyoming in the late 1800’s and early 1900's. The story starts after a number of disasters on his farm in Sanduksy, Iowa. Dispirited and defeated Charlie Lampman decided to go West and have a look around with his brother Albert and his brother-inlaw Dan Doty. The three were close friends as well as relatives and stayed together until they got to Buffalo, Wyoming. There they split up with Charlie and Albert crossing the Big Horns to what is now Shell, Wyoming and Dan going north to Montana where he eventually settled.

Time for an odd bit of Lampman genealogy. My Great grandfather Charlie Lampman married Mary Doty. Nothing strange there, people got married all the time, still do in fact. Even the fact that Mary’s father, John Doty, remarried after the death of his first wife and had another family wasn’t unusual. What is unusual is that John Doty’s second marriage was to Susanna Lampman Charlie Lampman’s older sister. John’s first family included my great grandmother and her brother Dan who went West with Albert and Charlie. John’s second family, the one he had with Susan, produced three children who were first cousins to my grandfather and his siblings on their mother’s side and aunts and uncle to them on their father’s side. (Confused yet? I always was. )

Fast forward to 1994. Over a hundred years had passed with five generations of Lampmans and Dotys making their mark on the West. The younger generations, separated by time and distance, were only vaguely aware of the Doty/Lampman connection from bits and pieces of stories told by their grandparents and great grandparents and none of them really understood other than there were some double cousin or something somewhere.

Then my younger brother happened to read an article one day in the Red Lodge newspaper by one Irma Doty Capps telling about some of her Lampman ancestors. My brother sent me the article and I sent him on a mission to track the woman down and find out who she was. It didn’t take him very long and the minute he introduced himself she knew exactly who he was. She used to play with my dad when she was a kid and was thrilled to hear from his son.

Turns out she and her sister were family historians and were more than happy to share their information. Through them I discovered there was a Doty on the Mayflower (who knew?) and another ancestor at Valley Forge. Anyway they got so excited by it all that they decided we needed to have a family reunion of all the Lampmans and Dotys we could scrape together. We almost waited too long. The last time the family had been together was at Charlie Lampman’s funeral in the 1940’s. The people who were teenagers at the last one were now in their 70’s and 80’s. Luckily they had all grown up together and knew each other well. They shared their memories and watched their descendants get to know each other with a kind of delighted wonder.

We spent three glorious days getting to know each other, trading stories, looking at old pictures and trying to untangle it all. None of us ever did, but we all found relatives we didn’t know we had and forged some deep friendships that can only come from a shared history. It was and will always remain a high spot in my life.

So what does all this have to do with Willow Creek? As I said, Dan Doty left my great grandfather Charlie and his brother Albert in Buffalo to go north to Montana where he took out a homestead. That homestead became the focal point for all the Dotys who came later, kind of like our ranch did for the Lampmans. Take a wild guess where he homesteaded. Yup, you guessed it, on Willow Creek! I got goosebumps when I found out. The book was only about three months from release and had been named Willow Creek for at least two years before I knew about the Doty homestead. It’s odd coincidences like that really make you wonder!

Previously in Willow Creek: When Levi gets up at dawn to split firewood, then voluntarily helps with the chores, Cyrus decides to ask him to stay on as a hired hand. Glad of the chance to help, and hoping it will help cure the restlessness in his soul, Levi accepts. As he eats, he idly watches Nicki cook Breakfast. An unconscious feminine gesture on her part gives away her secret and Levi is stunned to discover she is not the adolescent boy he thought, but rather an attractive young woman.

Issue # 5
Levi was just cleaning up the last few bites when Nicki and Peter returned. Peter slid into his place much the same as he had the night before.

“I doubt I’ll be able to do much this spring,” Cyrus said without preamble. After laying down his fork, he signed in same fluid motions Nicki had used. “There’s too much work for just the two of you, so I’ve hired Mr. Cantrell to help out until the spring planting is done.”

Nicki merely nodded and sat down as though the news was expected, if not particularly welcome.

Though Levi hadn’t expected Peter to be overjoyed by the news, he was unprepared for the intense stare the other man directed at him across the table. Unsure how to respond, Levi returned the look with a steady gaze. The silent battle continued until Nicki set a plate in front of Peter, and he turned his attention to his breakfast. Neither was sure who had won the contest, but it left them both readjusting his idea of the other.

Cyrus and Levi carried on a friendly conversation during the rest of the meal while Nicki covertly observed them. In Levi’s presence Cyrus was different somehow, more relaxed, less gloomy. But then she was beginning to think it was difficult to be morose around Levi Cantrell. His infectious, booming laugh and twinkling, blue-gray eyes were an irresistible combination.

“Mighty good breakfast, Nicki.” Levi slid his chair back. “What did you have in mind for me to do today, Cyrus?”

“We still haven’t cleaned out the spring yet,” Nicki put in before Cyrus had a chance to answer. “I’m sure Mr. Cantrell would be very good at that.”

Cyrus’s eyes narrowed. Then, after a moment, he shrugged and picked up his coffee cup. “I guess today’s as good as any to clean the spring. It shouldn’t take the three of you more than a few hours.”

Nicki glared at her father. By suggesting the worst jobs on the homestead she been hoping Mr. Cantrell might yet change his mind and leave. With his usual keen perception, Cyrus had seen through her plan. Angrily, she followed Peter out the house and strode toward the barn.

Levi shook his head as he picked up his hat. “I don’t think your daughter is very happy with any of this.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around. She’s just used to have everything her own way.”

Levi sighed as he put on his hat. “Is that why I feel like Daniel going into the lion’s den?”

Cyrus’s chuckle was interrupted by a deep wracking cough as he waved Levi toward the door.

During the ride out to the spring, Nicki and Peter were so obvious in their attempts to make him feel unwanted, Levi found it almost humorous. Not once did either glance in his direction as they talked back and forth in sign language. It appeared to be a very animated conversation, and he had no doubt he was the topic.

Casting an experienced eye over the landscape Levi was impressed with what he saw. When Cyrus Chandler had staked his homestead he had chosen well. The land lay in a small valley surrounded by high hills, protection against hard winds and severe weather. Even water, the most precious of all resources in this near desert, was available. Though it was now nearly dry, a tiny stream trickled down through several small fields still showing the stubble of last year’s crops.

Levi could see the natural creek bed had been widened and deepened in order to carry more water for irrigation. It appeared Cyrus Chandler was a shrewd planner with a great deal of foresight.

“Oh no, what happened?” Nicki’s dismayed voice drew Levi’s attention to the hillside where she and Peter sat looking at a hole in the rocks. It was obviously the spring they had been sent to clean and the source of the tiny stream that ran through ugh the valley. Joining the other two Levi peered down at the clogged opening.

“Looks like the wind blew it full dirt and tumbleweeds over the winter,” he observed. “Shouldn’t be too hard to dig it out.”

“Of course it’s full of trash. That’s why we’re up here.” Nicki pointed to the thin trickle running over the stones and into a small pool. “The pond is usually three times that size.”

Levi dismounted and walked over to the spring. “Did you get much snow last winter?” he asked studying the opening.

“Only a little now and then.” A shadow crossed Nicki’s face. “Not much rain last summer either. It’s going dry isn’t it?”

Hunkering down for a better look, Levi scratched his chin. “Looks like it, but maybe it isn’t as bad as it seems. He stood up and surveyed the entire hill.

“That’s all you know about it! Without that spring we might as well pack up and leave!”

Levi bent and sifted a handful of the sandy soil through his fingers. “The soil around here is like a giant sponge. Any water that hits it soaks in immediately and keeps on going until it hits bed rock and collects there, kind of like a big underground lake.” He pointed to the hole in the hillside. “The top of that lake overflows through this hole, but since the water level is lower hardly any is coming out.”

“That was very educational, Mr. Cantrell, but it doesn’t solve the problem does it?” Nicki’s voice was filled with biting sarcasm.

Levi stood up and dusted his hand against his pants. “No, but if you think about it for a minute the solution is obvious.”

Unwilling to admit it was anything but obvious to her, Nicki silently watched Levi untie the pick-ax and shovel from his saddle. What in the world was he planning?

“You’d better tell Peter we’re going dig a little farther down into the hill to enlarge opening of the spring.” Levi said. “We have to get below the level of the ground water again.”

By the time Peter understood what they were going to do and had taken the horses to a flat area nearby, Levi was already breaking up the dirt and rock near the entrance of the spring with the pick ax. Grudgingly, Nicki picked up a shovel, her mind already searching for ways to assert her authority before Levi took over completely.

It was hard, back breaking labor but it wasn’t long before the three began to see results. Gradually, the size of the entrance increased, and with it the flow of water.

Nicki stepped back and viewed the resulting stream with a pleased look on her face. “So far so good. Now I think we need to get some of this trash out of the way. Peter, you can start by getting rid of all those tumbleweeds.” She said the words aloud as she moved her fingers and Levi realized with a start that Peter was reading her lips as much as her hands. “And you,” she said turning to Levi. “Move those boulders and rocks over there, out of the way.”

For the next twenty minutes Nicki barked out orders to the two men, frequently telling them to redo a job they had just finished. Well aware Nicki was asserting her authority, Levi did as he was told, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when her demands became outrageous.

By the expressions that chased themselves across Peter’s face it was obvious that he wasn’t used to taking orders from Nicki. At first he was plainly astonished, then irritated and finally angry. Watching the muscles bunch in the younger man’s jaw with every shovelful of dirt, Levi decided it was time to do something.

While Nicki’s was studying the slowly filling pool below, Levi glanced up the hill to find Peter staring belligerently at her back. When he waved his hand to get Peter’s attention, the young man’s gaze dropped to him in surprise.

It was impossible not to understand Levi’s meaning as he pointed his thumb at Nicki and then nodded toward the pool with raised eyebrows. Peter’s face broke into a grin.

The smile was all the encouragement Levi needed. He slung Nicki over his shoulder and strode to the edge of the pool where he dropped her seat first into the muddy water.

Gasping in shock at the unexpected attack, she glared up at Levi who stood there calmly returning her look.

“If you’re going to be the boss you’d better start acting like it instead of some petty little tyrant,” he said.

“Petty little....” Like a striking snake, her hand shot out and struck the back of his left knee.
Unprepared for retaliation, Levi’s knee buckled and he toppled into the frigid water next to Nicki. He hadn’t even come up for air before she was upon him, pummeling him with small fists.

Levi grasped the slim waist with the crook of his elbow, and threw himself forward in self-defense. He regretted the action almost immediately as Nicki jerked her right hand free and scooped water into his face. Levi lost his hold as he reared back in surprise and was nearly drowned under a deluge of water. Coughing and sputtering, he struggled to his feet in an effort to escape her attack.

Nicki stood up and marched out of the pool in dignified retreat. Dumping the self-assured Levi Cantrell into the mud was a good lesson for him. Her eyes narrowed in disgust as she glanced up the hill at Peter. Instead of coming to her defense, he was leaning on his shovel with a wide grin on his face. She might have known the incident would appeal to his twisted sense of humor.

Angrily, she looked at Levi and saw he too was smiling. How dare they laugh at her humiliation! On the verge of telling them both off, Nicki suddenly realized how ridiculous she and Levi must have looked flailing around in the muddy water. Levi started to chuckle, and before she could stop herself a bubble of laughter rose in her throat. Animosity forgotten, they laughed together in the early spring sunshine.

It wasn’t until cool air began to make Nicki uncomfortable in her wet clothes, that she realized how successfully Levi had thwarted her. Instead of giving orders, she joined the other two in the actual work simply to get the job done faster so she could go home and change clothes.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she could see no sign of smugness, but she had the uncomfortable feeling things had pretty much gone the way he’d wanted them to. Apparently Levi Cantrell was a more worthy opponent than she had first realized.

The cold March air combined with their damp clothes forced Nicki and Levi to return to the house early, leaving a still grinning Peter behind to finish the last of the work. Miffed about her dunking, Nicki ignored her companion, and they rode in silence for several minutes.

Finally, he spoke. “Will you teach me to talk to Peter?”

“What?”

“I want to be able to talk to Peter. Will you teach me how?”

She stared at him, totally dumbfounded by his request. “Peter doesn’t talk.”

The irrepressible twinkle appeared as he turned to look at her. “Yes he does. I’ve seen him do it, apparently with great eloquence. I know he reads lips, but I can’t understand what he says and I communicate with him in his own language.”

“Why do you want to? So you can make fun of him to his face?”

The twinkle died and was replaced by a frown. “Is that what you think?”
Nicki shrugged uncomfortably, wondering why she suddenly felt so mean and petty. “Ever since I’ve known Peter, people have either treated him as though he had some horrible, contagious disease or like he was a drooling idiot.”

“I’m not like that, Nicki,” Levi said. “If Peter and I are going to work together we need to be able to understand each other. So will you teach me his language?”

“I’m not sure...I mean I never....” Nicki sighed helplessly. “It’s not as easy as it looks you know.”

“Are you afraid I can’t learn it, or that you can’t teach it? Look, Nicki, the worst that can happen is me looking like a fool, and I’m willing to take that chance.”

“All right, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t work.” Nicki was rewarded with a warm smile that for some unfathomable reason made her heart pound and her mouth go dry. Grimly she set her jaw and urged her horse on faster. Levi Cantrell was unlike any other man she’d ever known. She’d have to keep a closer eye on him in the future.

BLOG # 5 Characters

Since this was my second book, I had learned something about creating characters. Though I was still pretty much a neophyte, I knew there had to be conflict between the hero and heroine or you didn’t have a story. I already knew Levi was a pretty nice guy; it was obvious in Shadows in the Wind. That meant the heroine had to be the one with issues. At that point I didn’t know enough about characterization to realize that I could have two nice people as characters, so I set out to create my heroine.

I didn’t want her to be mean or hateful but she couldn’t really be sweet either. I tried to make her the opposite of Levi. He was a very large man, so Nicki was petite. Levi never met a stranger in his life and was friendly to all who came his way. Nicki was suspicious of strangers and worked at being unfriendly to people she knew. The rest of her character seemed to fall into place. I knew, for instance, that she had short dark hair and preferred male attire. She was an incredible rider, and preferred horses to people. When asked to describe her in ten words or less I said, “A five foot tall, ninety pound tomboy with an attitude.” Which pretty much nailed her personality.

Somewhere between books I had discovered a character chart. Thinking it might prove quite useful, I copied it, brought it home, tweaked it a bit and typed it onto my computer. I’ve been using it in one form or another ever since. I filled one out for each of my characters and was quite surprised at what I found. They truly were opposites in every way. The most telling of all were their philosophies on life. Levi’s was: If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. and Nicki’s was: Eat or be eaten. The minute I read that I knew I had the conflict of my book.

Peter was another matter entirely. I was taking a class in sign language and loving every minute of it. The woman who taught the class had spent a lot of time in the deaf community. She shared enough of the culture that I became quite interested and started to do a bit of research. The more I delved, the more fascinated I was and the more real Peter became. I didn’t create Peter, he evolved. This is the chapter where it all began. For the first time I realized he had a well developed sense of humor and started to fall in love with him. His personality developed incredibly fast and I’m not even really sure how it happened since there was no one to model him after. As the story progresses you will see him develop bit more each time he appears.

If you read the blogs for my other two books for the CHEYENNE TRIOLGY you already know who Levi is. About halfway through I realized his eyes twinkle like my first college crush and he’s built like the first man I ever loved. Most importantly , though he’s like my husband. So much so, in fact, that the book dedication reads: “To my very own Levi. This one is for you, Bru”.

I didn’t figure Nicki out until the book actually came out. When I saw the cover I said, “I don’t know who that guy is but the woman is exactly how I pictured Nicki!”(And yes she does wear the dress later in the book- for one scene) Even then I didn’t know who she was until my nephew looked at the cover and said, “That looks just like my mom!” And that’s exactly who Nicki is. My sister-in-law who is five foot tall and maybe weighs 90 pounds. As for attitude, well let’s just say she’s not one you’d want to mess with. I wouldn’t call her unfriendly exactly but she isn’t what you’d call outgoing either. The most telling of all? She is the most incredible horsewoman I have ever seen. She makes her living training horses for other people and judging horse shows around the world. In fact, she’d much rather be around horses than people. I don’t mean to be unflattering, I admire my sister-in-law greatly. Still, it is perhaps a good thing that she will never read this, which my nephew assures me she won’t.

Issue #6
Nicki was puzzled by the scowl on Levi’s face. It was the first time in the two weeks he’d been working for Chandlers that his good humor had slipped even slightly. He’d been in a fine mood when they’d stopped at the store. Now, he looked as if he’d eaten something extremely nasty. “Is something wrong?” she asked him.

“No,” he growled. “Everything is just fine!” The muscle in his jaw clenching, Levi didn’t take his eyes from the road as he guided the team and wagon around a particularly large
pot hole.

Nicki raised her eyebrows at the unfriendly tone in his voice and cast sidelong glance at him. He had no reason to be mad at her. She’d finally given up fighting him and even let some of her responsibilities rest on his broad shoulders for awhile. Besides, in the two weeks since they cleaned the spring she had given him many reasons to be angry, and he’d smiled through it all.

Perhaps Peter had done something. He’d been surly and unfriendly since the very beginning. Of course, Levi didn’t seem to care, not even when Peter viewed his first attempt at signing with sardonic amusement. Lately even Peter’s animosity had begun to fade.

The wagon wheels jolting over a rough spot in the road and Nicki grabbed the side of the wagon to steady herself.

“Good,” Levi mumbled under his breath, “maybe the damn wire will fall out and we’ll lose it!”

Nicki glanced back at the rolls of barbed wire they’d picked up in town in surprise. Was that what this was all about? “You’re mad because Papa sent us right out to string up this fence?”

Levi didn’t even bother to look at her as he turned off the road and headed toward the area behind the spring.

Holding on for dear life as the wagon bounced over rocks and sagebrush, Nicki glanced at her companion nervously. “Look, even if you wreck the wagon we’ll still have to put the fence up. You might as well slow down so we get there in one piece.”

“I was driving wagons over worse than this before you were born. Don’t try to tell me how to do it.”

“If this is how you’ve always driven I’m surprised you’re still alive to tell the story,” she said acidly.

“I’m sure you could do better.”

Nicki felt her temper start to rise. “Yes, as a matter of fact I could! What’s the matter with you anyway? You’ve been like a bear in a trap ever since we left town.” Only Nicki’s firm grip on the side of the wagon seat kept her from tumbling to the ground as they reached their destination and Levi brought the horses to a sudden stop.

He jumped to the ground and strode to the back of the wagon where he began unloading the wire. Nicki scrambled off the seat and followed him, though she might as well have been invisible for all the notice he gave her. Levi dumped a heavy roll of wire on the ground, and reached for the next.

“I asked what’s the matter with you; aren’t you going to answer me?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“It’s none of your business, that’s why.”

Nicki couldn’t believe her ears. “Anything that has to do with this homestead is my business,” she said as her temper finally snapped. “You’re being paid by my father to do a job, and it’s my responsibility to see that you do. I told him it was a mistake to hire a two-bit drifter, but he
wouldn’t listen. The first time some work comes along that you don’t cotton to, you act like a spoiled brat.”

“Look who’s talking about spoiled brats.” Levi dumped the third roll of wire on the ground and leaned on the side of the wagon looking at her with narrowed eyes. “Ever since I started working for your father, you’ve made sure everyone was aware of your feelings on the matter. Your father, and I, even Peter, have tiptoed around you like we were walking on eggs, afraid of making things worse. I didn’t say a word. Figured if you wanted to be in a perpetually bad mood it wasn’t any of my business. But now I see no one else is to be granted the same privilege.”

Nicki bristled. “How dare you take that attitude with me?”

“For your information, your father pays me for the job I do, not for my attitude.” He lifted one of the heavy rolls from the ground with a grunt. “I promised to do what was asked of me, so I’ll build the fence, but I don’t have to like it.”

Angry and curiously a little hurt by his attack, Nicki watched him lug the wire to the corner post of the fence and drop it. When he returned to get the next one she was ready for him.

“You sound pretty convincing, Cantrell, but the way I see it, you don’t like the idea of working that hard.”

“You never give up do you?” Levi picked up another roll and headed for the corner post again. He seemed completely unaware of her following behind him, until he dropped the wire. Then he turned to her, his mouth set in a thin line of disgust, his eyes like a stormy gray ocean. For several seconds they exchanged glares, each waiting for the other to speak. Suddenly Levi’s face relaxed, and he leaned his arms on the fence post.

“Damn, you’re as bad as my little brother. Once he gets hold of something he just keeps yammering at you until you can’t take it anymore. I’m not going to fight with you, Nicki, so if that’s what you’re after, forget it.”

“You don’t want to put out the effort it takes to build a fence.”

Levi laughed outright at that. “Hell’s bells, you and Peter have already done the hard work.” He nodded toward the long line of posts stretching out from the corner post in two directions. “Digging the holes and setting the posts is far more strenuous than stringing wire.”

“I don’t understand then. What’s bothering you?”

“There are many things you don’t understand,” said Levi, purposely ignoring the rest of her question. “You aren’t very good at figuring people out, but you’re young yet. You may learn.”

“And I suppose you, with your advanced years, are so observant you never miss anything,” Nicki retorted.

Levi’s only answer was a shrug.

To Nicki the gesture was one of condescension, and she saw red. “All right, so I can’t figure out what your problem is when you suddenly decide to be grouchy, but you’ve been here almost two weeks and you still don’t know...”—Nicki’s heart jumped into her throat as she realized what she’d been about to say—, “as much as you think you do,” she finished lamely.

Levi took off his hat and wiped his brow with one sleeve. “I imagine there are many things that I don’t know, but that wasn’t what I meant. The reason for a person’s bad temper often isn’t what it seems. At times, it’s better to just let it run its course and ignore it. With a little more experience you’ll learn how to tell the difference.”

He glanced down at her with a suddenly innocent expression. “Besides, it seems to me that I’m the only one who’s done any work on the fence so far today. Could it be that you’re the one who’s dragging his feet and trying to put the blame on me?”

Not surprisingly, Nicki took bristled at the suggestion of such an underhanded tactic. “A little hard work doesn’t bother me in the least!”

Levi grinned, the ever-present twinkle was back in his eye as he put his hat back on and headed toward the wagon again. “Well, then you can fetch the nails and hammers while I carry over the last roll of wire. Let’s get this job started.

It wasn’t until they had stretched the first strand of wire and were attaching it to the second post with the u-shaped fencing nails that Nicki remembered he’d neatly avoided explaining what had put him in such a bad mood.

“Well are you going to tell me or not?”

Levi looked at her in surprise. “Tell you what?”

“What there is about building this fence that makes you so mad.”

His hammer stopped in mid swing as he stared at her in exasperation. “I was wrong about you. You’re worse than my little brother. At least it’s possible to distract him. You never quit!”

Nicki had a momentary vision of Levi bribing a small boy with a peppermint stick and holding his finger to his lips. She swallowed a smile as she reminded herself this was a serious matter. “Well?”

Still holding the hammer he crossed his arms on top of the post and regarded her cynically. “You aren’t going to like it.”

“So?”

He sighed and gazed out over the prairie. “When I was a kid, this whole territory was wide open range. People, animals, anything, could go wherever they wanted. There was plenty of room for everybody. But when I came home after four years at sea I hardly recognized the land I grew up in.” He drove the claws of the hammer into the top of the post and picked up the wire stretchers. “It started with a few people fencing off their land. Suddenly it wasn’t wide open any more and everyone began getting nervous. The last few years there’s been a mad scramble to put fences around everything a man owns.”

“But don’t you see? We have to fence it off. Last year Herman Lowell’s cows ate almost our entire crop, and what they didn’t eat they trampled into the ground. If we don’t put up wire we won’t have anything.”

“Herman Lowell has been grazing his cows on this range for over twenty years.” Levi pointed out. “By his standards you’re the trespassers.”

Nicki gave him a sharp look. “You sound just like him.”

“Can’t you see that Herman Lowell might have reason to think this is his land even though you have legal claim to it?”

“Oh, I can understand why he thinks it’s his, but it isn’t. We filed a claim on 160 acres, and made improvements during the first five years we lived here. According to the law, that makes it ours. We even took out the water right on the spring .”

She pointed an accusing finger at Levi. “Herman Lowell could have easily done the same thing, but he didn’t. Seems to me he gave up any claim he might have had by doing nothing. Besides,” she added defensively, “Papa says the cattlemen have nearly ruined the prairie by over-grazing. Whose side are you on.”
Levi knew it was true. All he had to do was look around to see the evidence. Thirty years ago the prairie had been grass as far as the eye could see. Now sagebrush encroached on the grasslands more and more each year. Levi sighed. “I’m not on anyone’s side. Both have their points and I don’t know who’s right. But between the ranchers and the farmers the land is changing, and I’m not so sure I like it.”

“Building one more fence isn’t going to make that much difference.” Nicki said. “I think there’s more to your anger than that.”

Levi sighed. “I dislike the barbed wire even more than the fences.”

“Wire?” She looked at him blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“Not just wire, barbed wire.”

“What’s wrong with barbed wire?”

“You really don’t know do you?”

Nicki was momentarily taken aback by the hostile expression in the eyes that met her own. “N...no.”

“Have you ever seen what it does to an animal unwise enough to run into it?” Levi didn’t wait for an answer. “No, if you had you wouldn’t ask. The barbs works like a dozen little knives, cutting and slicing into the flesh. It’s especially bad for a horse, I’ve seen them cut clear to the bone. Even if you get to them in time and can sew up the wound, they usually get an infection and die. I can’t tell you how many good horses I’ve had to shoot because they were wire cut. Cattle have tougher hides, but barbed wire doesn’t do them much good either.”

Nicki swallowed convulsively, shocked and dismayed by his words.

Levi gave the wire stretchers a vicious tug, his voice bitter. “It’s even worse for the wild animals. When a deer runs into a fence they’ll jump it, usually with no problem. But occasionally one gets it’s back legs tangled between the top two wires. The lucky ones become prey for coyotes. The only other alternative is a slow death by starvation. Either way, not a very pleasant end.”

Since theirs was the first fence to go up in the area, Nicki had never been around barbed wire before. The image Levi described flashed vividly into her mind. “I—I had no idea!”

The stricken sound of her voice brought Levi out of his self-absorbed state immediately. Belatedly he remembered her youth, and the tender-heartedness of her sex. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

Nicki kicked the roll of wire with her booted foot. “I don’t blame you for hating the stuff, it’s terrible.”
Levi felt a surge of guilt. After all, the situation wasn’t her fault. “Look, I’m in a foul mood, and I shouldn’t have been so blunt. As you already pointed out this fence is necessary, so can’t we just forget what I said and build the thing?”

“But there must be something we can to do make it safe for all those animals!”

Levi grinned in spite of himself. “The whole point is to keep the animals out, or in, whichever the case may be. If the wire is safe you’ve defeated your purpose.”

“Maybe so, but the poor deer...”

“Eat your crops just like Lowell’s cattle,” he interrupted. “Besides,” Levi said pointing to the small barbs twisted into the double strands of wire, “this isn’t one of the really bad ones. I’ve seen far worse.”

Nicki was still troubled. “I still think we ought to do something.”

“I suppose we can ride the fence every day checking for...” Suddenly he broke off, staring out over the prairie.

“Well, well,” he said softly. “Nicki, why don’t you go get my rifle from the wagon. Looks like we’ve got company.”

BLOG # 6 Barbed Wire.

I read somewhere that the Wild West was tamed with barbed wire and the Colt .44. I don’t know if that’s totally true but I do know that the barbed wire changed the look of the West. It was invented to keep cattle contained and wound up cutting the open range into a patchwork of homesteads and small ranches. The cattle barons, who’d had free rein for a generation, suddenly found themselves cut off from waterholes, prime grazing and cattle trails they had been using for twenty-five years. Needless to say, tensions, which were already high, escalated at an alarming rate.

Herman Lowell was one of those powerful cattle barons. His range was as vast as his herds and he was used to having full control. Right in the middle of it all was the Chandler homestead and the Willow Creek spring. Willow Creek was the only source of water for miles around. Up until this point in time Chandlers had used the water to raise their crops, but Lowell’s cattle had been able to drink from the creek as well. In this chapter all that is about to change. Once the fence is completed, Herman Lowell will no longer have access to Willow Creek or the spring that feeds it. If the drought worsens the situation is almost certain to become explosive and Cyrus Chandler knows it. In fact, that’s one of the reasons he hired Levi Cantrell. Nicki, however, hasn’t got a clue. She can only see the problem from her side.

This is also the first place Levi really shows his rancher roots. Chandlers see the wire as the only way to protect their land, but Levi sees it as the end of everything he has known. Then there is the wire itself. His description of the wire and the damage it does is from my own experience. It seems especially bad for horses and I truly have see one cut so badly across the chest and front legs that the vet was unable to save her.

The worst thing,