A Union of Family Love (A Western Historical Romance Book)

By Florence Linnington

Married when she was eighteen and her husband left her when she was twenty-two, Rosalie never believe in romance again.

Now at twenty-nine years of age and with a ten-year-old son, all Rosalie wants is to provide for her son Jacob. She is strict with Jacob, but she wants him to live life.

When Rosalie meets Noah during a minor train crash, their lives changed. The man with a true western heart is smart and well-read, though many people do not know this.

As Noah and Rosalie work on giving each other a chance for them to grow closer, and doing their best to show Jacob no one is trying to take his mother away, the introverted boy begins to rebel.

Can Rosalie ever truly let go of her past and embrace her new future?

How can Noah win over Jacob?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Florence Linnington
• Release date: Jul 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393715276

Book preview

Chapter 1

That sweet, freshly-hewn wood smell that Noah always associated with a good day’s work filled the air. Whiteridge had been full of it lately, first as the hotel was built, and, now, as the finishing touches were put on the schoolhouse.

Dropping his hammer into the grass, Noah wiped the sweat from his brow and stood back inspecting his work. Behind the one-room schoolhouse, in the shade of the trees, Chandler Mullins and Greg Dixon passed a canteen back and forth.

Looks pretty good, if I do say so myself, Wakefield said from next to Noah.

Noah smirked. And not up a day too soon.

They’d gotten lucky with the whole thing. Whiteridge’s first school had been funded by the town’s benefactor and unofficial leader, Daniel Zimmerman. High up in the Rockies, some days the tiny community seemed completely forgotten by the rest of civilization.

At first, Noah had found such an existence unnerving, but now he found he preferred it. Forget all the big cities back east, and the towns with sheriffs, mayors, and leaders who claimed to speak for the people but who did anything but. Whiteridge would have elected officials one day, but for now, it did fine being run by those who’d built it using their own sweat and blood.

You still fine to fetch the teacher tomorrow? Wakefield asked.

I can get away.

Noah didn’t particularly like leaving the saloon. When Wakefield had washed his hands clean of it and opened the hotel instead, it had left Noah with a desire to fill his friend’s big shoes. Wakefield had run the Outpost saloon with an iron fist, and now that Daniel owned the place and Noah managed it, all that pressure had been shifted onto him.

But getting away for a bit, even if it was for only a day, would be nice. The new schoolteacher was coming into Pathways from Wisconsin, and someone needed to be at the train station to pick her and her son up.

A familiar gurgling drew Noah’s attention away from the schoolhouse. Wakefield’s wife, Thea, was coming down the road, their six-month-old baby, Aria, in her arms.

Aria burbled louder as she recognized her daddy and ‘Uncle Noah.’ She tried valiantly to talk, but the noises set on becoming words did not quite gett to their destination.

It’s perfect! Thea trilled, coming closer and setting her gaze on the schoolhouse. She switched the chubby baby to her other hip, and Noah and Wakefield stepped forward at the same time.

Here, Wakefield said extending his arms.

I got her, Noah cut in, sending Wakefield a good-natured glare. You get to come home to two pretty ladies every night. Don't hog.

Wakefield snorted, and Noah took Aria into his arms. At the sight of him, she smiled wide and giggled.

See? Noah asked. I’m her favorite ‘Uncle’ in the whole, wide world.

Right, Wakefield sarcastically answered. Once she gets to really talking, we’ll find out the truth.

Aw, you’re just jealous, Noah answered. Aria was fisting his shirt’s collar, and he nodded at her little hand, using it as evidence of her love.

Thief, Wakefield grinned. Trying to steal my girl. Why don’t you get your own?

I would if I could, Noah said.

Wakefield guffawed. You should really look into the mail-order bride agency, he said.

Thea had drifted away, having stepped inside the schoolhouse to take a look.

I suppose, Noah noncommittally answered.

He’d been the one to convince Wakefield to do just that. To take a chance on a girl back east and bring her to the mountains to start a new life with him.

Things had worked out well for Thea and Wakefield, but if Noah followed the same path would he get as lucky?

Why don’t you? Wakefield asked.

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, feeling put on the spot. I looked at the last paper, he admitted, referencing the pamphlet full of east coast women looking to be mail-order brides.

And?

Noah shrugged. I didn’t see anyone who... struck my fancy.

Wakefield nodded, and Noah was glad he understood. When Wakefield first saw Thea’s ad in the paper, he knew something was special about her. Wakefield wasn’t a sentimental or romantic man, but even he had to admit he was drawn to Thea. He’d felt compelled to bring her to Whiteridge.

Noah had never experienced anything like that, and if he went ahead and ordered a bride without feeling compelled to, he knew he might regret it.

Aria patted Noah’s arm and made a noise of distress.

She’s calling for her ma, Wakefield explained.

What, now? Noah asked in mock shock. I’m suddenly not good enough for you?

He tickled Aria’s side, and her whining was replaced with laughter.

Forget what I said earlier, Wakefield said. You really are good with kids. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a father.

Noah looked over at Wakefield in surprise, but he had his thumbs in his belt loop and was making a point of avoiding Noah’s gaze.

Thanks, Wakefield.

Wakefield half shrugged. I’ve noticed the way you’ve been moping about lately.

I’ve been moping? Noah asked, genuinely surprised.

In... subtle ways. Most people probably wouldn’t notice, but I guess I’ve known you too blasted long not to.

Noah laughed, and Aria started squirming again.

Fine, Noah said. You want to get down, there you go.

He set Aria on her bottom on the ground, and she started pulling at blades of grass.

She might try and eat that, Wakefield cautioned.

If she does, it’ll only happen once.

Wakefield scowled.

Let her live a little, Wakefield. It won’t kill her.

Wakefield looked like he might protest again, but Thea was walking back toward them. It was an accepted fact of life that Wakefield was overprotective of Aria and Thea was always giving him an earful of it. She was more on Noah’s side when it came to life: fall down and scrape your knees a bit. It’s good for the body, good for the soul.

Wakefield, however, would have built a tower, put Aria in it, and hired a dragon to protect her if he could.

At the sight of her mother, Aria reached her arms up and cried out. Scooping the baby up, Thea set Aria on her hip again and smoothed out her dress.

What are you two talking about? Thea asked.

Noah and Wakefield exchanged a quick look.

Ah, Thea said, I understand. Secret male things.

We’re making plans for finding Noah a wife, Wakefield spilled.

Noah cringed.

What’s the matter? Thea asked Noah. What’s that look for?

Noah ran his palm down his heat-filled face. Don’t know, he mumbled.

Except he did. He was ashamed of being too particular. With no single women in Whiteridge, and hardly any in Pathways or Shallow Springs as well, he wasn’t in the position to be picky.

But he couldn’t help it. Noah wanted that fire in his chest that he’d heard people speak about. He wanted a woman who would smile at him the way his mother had smiled at his father.

A marriage born out of practicality was fine for some, but Noah wanted more. He only wished that desire didn’t make him feel so greedy.

Well, we got a teacher coming tomorrow, Wakefield said. She’s a woman, he added, as if that settled the matter.

Noah guffawed. Too bad teachers are old and stiff.

Not all of them, Thea said.

All of mine were.

Thea pursed her lips. You better be nice to her tomorrow. Her son, too. This is a strange place. It’s hard to adapt.

Noah tipped his hat. Ma’am, I’ll be the most cordial I can be.

Chapter 2

Jacob, look. See the mountains?

Rosalie’s ten-year-old son briefly glanced up from his book, looked at the train’s window, and then promptly buried his nose in the well-read pages once more.

Rosalie tried to