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Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances
Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances
Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances
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Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances

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Living In A Swamp With Her Cajun Fisherman - A Gaelic woman decides to head for America from Ireland after finding a mail ordered husband. Little did she know how she and a Cajun fisherman in New Orleans would get along, despite language and cultural differences, and his ancient fishing boat that was their only means for making a living.

The California Cowboy & The Pregnant & Jilted English Orphan - An English woman is jilted by her boyfriend after he promises to marry her and she becomes pregnant. She makes the long trip out to California to become the mail order bride of a farmer who appears alternately angry about her arrival, and reclusive at the same time. It takes a while for the woman to ferret out the truth but friends she meets along the way help, and eventually she sees a bit of light at the end of the tunnel.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateAug 5, 2016
ISBN9781365309021
Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances

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    Marriage to the Cowboy - Vanessa Carvo

    Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances

    Marriage to the Cowboy: A Pair of Historical Romances

    By

    Vanessa Carvo

    Copyright 2016 Quietly Blessed & Loved Press

    Cover photo copyright: aaron007 / 123RF Stock Photo

    Living In A Swamp With Her Cajun Fisherman

    Synopsis: Living In A Swamp With Her Cajun Fisherman - A Gaelic woman decides to head for America from Ireland after finding a mail ordered husband. Little did she know how she and a Cajun fisherman in New Orleans would get along, despite language and cultural differences, and his ancient fishing boat that was their only means for making a living.

    Muirgen looked down at the pieces of ugly gray cloth laying on the table before her and sighed. She knew this was meant to be a shirt, but the mess in her hands bore no resemblance to a piece of clothing. Sewing had never been high on her list of pleasurable things to do and her mother had despaired of ever getting her beyond sewing on buttons and darning socks.

    She found it highly ironic to find herself forced to work in a sweatshop sewing factory day in and day out doing something she’d hated her whole life. She had to stop and wonder if God hated her and this was her punishment for wanting a different kind of life.

    She’d endured a few sessions of Catholic school while the nuns tried to drum into her head the proper role for women. Her mother added her own efforts to try and force her into the mold of being a good housewife and cook and all of the other mundane things a woman was supposed to be good at doing. It hadn’t taken her parents long to realize that her father’s love for his only child had subverted all of these efforts even before they’d begun.

    Muirgen’s father was a fisherman and a good one at that. He knew the Bay of Galway like a farmer knew his own fields. His currach was handed down to him from his father, who’d received it from his father before him and so on. Everyone in the village agreed that his currach was the most sea-worthy vessel in all of the isles.

    In the dusk of the evenings, when the weather was calm, the sea called to him, he said. He’d load up his fishing gear and spend the night fishing under the Cliffs of Moher. When Muirgen was barely old enough, he’d dress her as a boy and bring her along to work with him.

    Muirgen’s mother would wake at dawn and watch at the seaside for their return to help him haul in the fish they’d caught. There was always fish to be hauled in the morning. They’d stand on the beach in the cool of the morning and clean the catch, spreading some on the racks to dry and selling or trading others. It was a good life. It was the only life they knew back then.

    Muirgen’s father knew better than to take a girl to sea, but the currach was his and he claimed the sin of taking her out was also his alone to bear. There were many an afternoon while the other fishermen were sleeping or mending their nets that the two of them would slip away and ply the waves with the joy and freedom that only those who love the sea can know.

    Many times the priest warned her father about the folly of his ways and just as often, her father scorned the superstitions of the others thinking he knew better. The people of the isles were fiercely independent, and her father was even more so in his own way. He was a man before his time and having no sons, saw no point in not sharing his life with his daughter.

    Her mother didn’t approve of it, but she was helpless to stem the passion that consumed them both. She stopped trying to make excuses for it long before the villagers ceased their gossip concerning this breach of their traditions.

    Muirgen soon found her own rhythm with the sea, and it wasn’t too many years before she was out-catching her father on some of their trips. He claimed she was cheating by talking to the silkies and they were helping her. She just laughed at him and teased him about believing in fairy tales. The two of them were just a pair of old salts at heart, she’d say with a grin. He always had to agree.

    Muirgen’s happy life came to an abrupt end when she was seventeen. Her father went out fishing one night without her. She’d wanted to go with him, but her mother was feeling ill and they didn’t want to leave her alone. A strange wind blew across the island all night and Muirgen and her mother didn’t sleep a wink for it.

    Both of them were up early and standing on the shore watching for his return. They waited for several hours after all of the other fishing boats had come in and cleared their catches.

    The other fishermen whispered tales about the strange winds in the night and the eerie sounds that plagued them from the darkness. Many of the fish they’d caught were dead before they brought them into their boats and had to be thrown back. No one spoke of seeing Muirgen’s father either going out or coming in the next day.

    Not knowing what to do, the two women stood on the shore until dark and then turned together to head home. There was nothing to be said. The sea gave and the sea took away. That was the way of it.

    The next morning, the two women hurried to the rocky shore and gazed out over the sea, but there was nothing to be seen. The other fishermen were too unnerved by the previous day to even go out that night. Their boats waited empty on the shore.

    It took four days before the other fishermen resumed their trips to sea. They saw nothing of Muirgen’s father’s currach and nothing amiss they would speak about to the women. Her mother continued to go to the shore every morning for a week.

    Muirgen stopped going after four days. She knew in her heart he was gone and he wasn’t coming back again. She didn’t cry for him. There was no reason to weep for the way things were and the way they’d always been. Her father had never learned to swim, nor had he taught her. They’d always believed that any wave that could swamp the currach would quickly overpower the strength of any man. It was better to drown quickly in such water.

    Muirgen’s mother didn’t speak for a month. Without a body, there was no funeral and without her father, there was no income for the two of them. Muirgen could fish from the rocks and keep them fed, but it was not going to be enough and most of their fishing gear had gone down with her father. None of the other fishermen would even consider letting her go out with them. It just wasn’t done, and they drove her away from even asking with harsh words.

    One morning, she got up early to find her mother sitting at the table with a small box in front of her. The box was open and Muirgen could only see that it was nearly empty. Her mother reached in and pulled out the little bit of money they had left in the world. She laid it down on the table next to the box. The last thing she pulled out was a locket. She studied it carefully as she considered its

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