Shadows Of Summer: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By Doreen Milstead

Off To The Scruffy Silver Miner - A pregnant widow is taken by a crotchety old matchmaker to a silver miner in Nevada, but when she meets him she’s rather taken aback by his scruffy appearance and drunken habits. And, she doesn’t know how he’ll take the news of her pregnancy.

A Rough Hewn Cowboy - A woman decides to become a mail order bride but goes west under subterfuge – she already has a man lined up even though she will be supposedly matched up with a cowboy by the company who is paying her way. When she gets there, she can’t find him, so settles for an unappetizing but un-assigned man. Things do go downhill rather fast from that point onward.

Five Harrington Sisters Along The Oregon Trail - Five sisters on the long road west, find love and tribulations along the Oregon Trail.

The Roman Woman’s New Dishes - An independent Roman woman is on the lookout for a new dinnerware set but all she can find are erotic designs and geometric squares, until she discovers a vendor with something different to offer—and it includes a life of adventure. This is a humorous and different romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Hart
• Release date: May 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370858309

Book preview

Shadows Of Summer: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2017 Susan Hart

Off To The Scruffy Silver Miner

A Rough Hewn Cowboy

Five Harrington Sisters Along The Oregon Trail

The Roman Woman’s New Dishes

Off To The Scruffy Silver Miner

Synopsis: Off To The Scruffy Silver Miner - A pregnant widow is taken by a crotchety old matchmaker to a silver miner in Nevada, but when she meets him she’s rather taken aback by his scruffy appearance and drunken habits. And, she doesn’t know how he’ll take the news of her pregnancy.

With a deep breath, Adeline squared back her shoulders and lifted her skirts as she went up the stairs. There, in front of the door, she hesitated and her hand moved over her stomach in low, circular motions.

This was it. There was no going back now.

She knocked on the door and a servant girl answered, taking her inside and leading the way to a small, French tearoom. Large windows from the ceiling to the floor let the sunlight in.

She sat and the servant girl brought her tea, all the while never lifting her head to look at her. Once alone, Adeline took off her wool coat and left it next to her on the couch. She looked through its pockets until she found the letter that had brought her there.

She read it again, even though it knew what it said by heart. We are sorry to inform you… fell in the line of duty… She shook her head and folded the letter with as much caution as her trembling hands would allow.

That had been three months ago. The end of the wretched war had brought the end of her life, as she knew it.

And then, she found out she was running out of time.

Congratulations! You are expecting! Her doctor had been a cheery, wrinkled man a wide smile plastered all over his face, even when dread filled her up.

Pregnant. Unwed and pregnant.

No one was going to care that she just buried her husband. Those were minor details and people had sharp tongues and vicious teeth. Rumors spread like fire. She could just as well go out in the streets and scream she was a whore, for all the good it would do her.

There was one way to fix this though.

Find a husband. She had to find a husband before she started showing.

And that was how she met Agatha Brown, the matchmaker. However, their very first meeting had been disappointing.

For Adeline at least.

A widow... I see. How old are you darling? she asked.

I… I am twenty six.

Don’t stutter. It’s unattractive. Mrs. Brown scribbled something down. We are getting a bit old, aren’t we?

Adeline had no answer. She wasn’t that old, was she? Sure, she wasn’t seventeen, but she wasn’t that old.

The woman went on, undeterred by the silence. You are pretty enough, what with your blond locks and all. She picked up her teacup and had a small sip. Anything specific you’d want in a husband?" the matchmaker asked, raising an eyebrow. She was just short of saying that Adeline shouldn’t really be making any requests.

Just a good man. And someone not too old, she said.

She didn’t get to be picky about things, but at least, she didn’t have to be shackled to someone three times her years. And now, Agatha Brown had requested to see her. Bad or good, Adeline had no idea the what kind of news she was receiving.

A wife?

What did you do? Emmet looked at the telegraph over and over again, trying to wrap his mind around it. His hands were smudged with dirt that rubbed off on the white paper.

Oh come on, Em. It was just for fun. To spice up your life a little, his friend said, elbowing him on the ribs.

But a matchmaker?

It’s not as bad as it sounds. Besides, if I left this to fate, you’d never get a woman, he said, getting a glare.

This is not a game, Georgie. Some woman thinks I’ll marry her. He waved the telegram in the air.

So? Why not? Georgie shrugged his shoulders. Maybe she’s fetching. Why don’t you have a look at her?

Emmet huffed and rubbed his forehead. Think about it, Em. It’s not such a bad idea. You need someone to fill up that big empty house of yours.

He did think about it. And, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of a woman all for himself.

If she ain’t pretty, she’s getting booted out of here, he told him.

Georgie just laughed. Isn’t it enough that she is a woman? Does she have to be pretty? How many more do you think will agree to meet you up, with your ugly mug and all?

He got a punch on the shoulder.

Fine, fine. Boot her if she’s ugly.

This is a bad plan. Such a bad plan. Emmet shook his head and looked at the lines on the telegram.

Well, tough luck. You have to give this girl a chance, because she’s on her way here.

A girl. For himself. A little wife to brighten up his home and his life. Something to, as Georgie put it, spice up his life. Something more than just taking rounds in the mines, having drinks with the guys at the saloon and coming back to an empty house.

Hey, what could he say?

Even he got a little lonely every now and then.

Adeline, darling! Such a pleasure to see you again. How are you holding up? For an old lady, Mrs. Brown stormed in the room like a little whirlwind. Her hair, red with white streaks in them, was tucked in a neat bun at the base of her head, her dress perfect in every detail and a fan always in her hand.

Just fine. You have news for me?

Ah yes. Great news, my dear. We have you a match, the elderly woman said. Adeline’s stomach dropped while her heart fluttered, half of her glad they had found someone so fast, half of her dreading it.

Isn’t it great? Mrs. Brown went on, the big fan in her hands working a mile a minute.

Just great. Wonderful.

She could blow this whole thing up with a sentence. She knew that. She could tell the truth about the pregnancy and just like that, the wedding would be called off, there would be no meeting, nothing. No man was going to marry a woman when she was pregnant, especially when the child was someone else’s.

She could tell Agatha everything. But she needed a husband. How was a woman to survive? Especially when she had a growing babe inside of her?

She just had to be smart and keep her mouth shut. She just had to get herself married as soon as possible.

Well, what kind of man is he? she asked.

Just as you requested, he is not very old. Just thirty two, she said. Thirty-two was not that old. Her husband had been thirty-five. She could work with thirty-two. He even has a small fortune in his name up in Nevada.

Adeline clenched her skirts, her whole body tensing up. In Ne… Nevada? she repeated.

No stuttering, darling, Mrs. Brown said. Of course up in Nevada. He is one of those miners, you see, she said.

Agatha felt like she needed a fan herself, because all of a sudden, she couldn’t breathe.

They are making fortunes up there, with all the silver they’re digging up. Mining is honest work. Virginia City will suit you just fine.

A dirty, foul-mouthed, loud and obnoxious miner? She’d never heard a good thing about them in her life. They always swarmed at gold and silver, like moths to a flame. Greedy little people they were.

But what if I don’t like him?

Agatha gave her a look. The ‘like-you-have-a-choice look’. Don’t worry, darling. You and I shall take a small trip up there and we’ll see him. Then you can make up your mind, she leaned forward on her seat and patted Adeline’s hands. Why don’t you go pack up? I’ll have the tickets and everything set up. We’ll catch the morning train and we’ll be there before you know it, she said.

Any man was better than no man. What was the alternative anyway? On her own, an unwed mother, she’d just condemn her and her child as outcasts. She’d be branded a whore at the drop of a hat.

At least, if he was well off, he could provide for them.

Early in the morning then? She put on a smile.

As early as possible, Mrs. Brown agreed. We don’t want to keep him waiting too long, do we now? You are not going to get any younger.

And as Agatha already pointed out, women her age had a hard time marrying and landing husbands. They sure didn’t marry out of love or because they just wanted to.

They had to.

True. It’s best if we don't waste any more time then, right Mrs. Brown?

She stood up and fixed her skirts.

Of course. The sooner the better, the woman said, smiling coldly. Oh, and Adeline?"

The girl paused and looked at the matchmaker.

Lose the black clothes. It’s unnerving for a bride-to-be to dress as a widow.

Emmet watched the amber liquid in his glass, turning round and round. A bride. The idea was almost funny. And enticing. He was old enough. Virginia City barely had any good women around, so why not give it a go?

You are still thinking about it, aren’t you? Georgie said, and slapped him on the back. Come on, man. You don’t like her, send her on her way. You don’t have to marry her.

But that wasn’t what Emmet was afraid of.

He was scared that he was going to like her, and that he was going to want to marry her. But, maybe she wouldn’t.

These things work both ways, Georgie. He downed his drink and motioned to the barman for another. She has to like me too.

Georgie blew out some air. Bullshit. You are… well, not handsome. I wouldn’t say handsome.

Georgie got an elbow to the ribs. Didn’t seem to stop him any.

You are too tall, too clumsy and way too grumpy. The poor gal will take off in the mountains and blow herself up in the mines.

He got a nasty glare and Emmet asked for another drink.

And you could wash up more, Georgie pointed out.

What? I’m clean enough, aren’t I? We work the mines, not in some dainty office.

True, true, the man shook his head from side to side and nuzzled his beer. Still, you could. Wash up, change clothes. Females love that kind of thing.

Emmet chuckled. Oh, and you’d know. You have them waiting in line outside your house, don’t you buddy?

Ouch man. You have to hit where it hurts?

Emmet shrugged his shoulders and leaned back on the bar, watching the room full of miners and people drinking and gambling; shouting, arguing, laughing.

We’re messed up, Emmet said.

Totally. Georgie nodded and waved his bottle at the barman who came over with another. No woman is going to want to stay here.

The silence lingered as they had a couple more drinks just watching the other customers.

We should find you a bride as well, Emmet said after a while.

Georgie laughed so hard, he almost fell off the stool he was sitting on.

One at a time, pal. Let’s focus on you first. When is your girl coming anyway?

Emmet brushed back his black hair, trying to remember what was on the little telegram. A couple of days? On the seventeenth I think.

He gave him another shrug of his shoulders.

When do we work tomorrow? Evening rounds?

"There is no way we are working the