Wylder's Magic

By Sherrie Lea Morgan

Lillian is devastated. Her goal of owning an apothecary in Wylder, Wyoming is dashed. Her family has promised her in wedlock by proxy, and she hopes her spouse is a reasonable man. Can they forge a compromise about the shop, as well as their marriage?

Hank's hopes aren't high when it comes to his sight-unseen bride. Heck, he'd settle for a good cook and a warm body. However, Lillian is a lady and skittish as a wild filly—determined to take things slow. She proves her point by sleeping in the guest room.

Just as Lillian begins to fall in love, and yearns to become a true wife, Hank is shot. With potions handed down by her ghostly Gammy she works to keep him alive. Will death come calling or will Hank live to share the last unclaimed piece of property on their homestead…his bed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jan 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509235094

Sherrie Lea Morgan

Sherrie Lea Morgan is an active member of Romance Writers of America, her local chapter Georgia Romance Writers, Paranormal Romance Guild. She lives north of Atlanta, GA with her twin sister, two dogs and two cats. When not working her current manuscripts, she enjoys spending time with her family. Visit her at: www.sherrieleamorgan.com; www.facebook.com/sherrielea ; Sherrie Lea Morgan (@slmorganwrit) | Twitter

Book preview

Inc.

Hank’s jaw locked. He needed a wife in every way, so what was she thinking?

Lillian had returned the pots and pans to the cabinet and now sat at the table. He settled in across from her.

Now then, he started. I think—

Wait please, she interjected. If I might go first?

Crossing his arms, he leaned back in his chair and dipped his chin. You may.

I think it’s important you understand there’s been a misunderstanding here.

What? There’s no misunderstanding a marriage.

What I mean is, I was unaware of our marriage until I disembarked at the station in Wylder.

He sat forward, the front legs of the chair landing hard on the wooden floor and frowned. What do you mean?

She fiddled with the dishrag she gripped in her hands and without breaking eye contact, continued, I believed I carried a letter of introduction to work at the apothecary in town. I wasn’t aware my uncle and parents arranged our marriage, and they didn’t inform me of this at all. In fact, she leaned forward, they never hinted at it either. I truly had no idea we were married.

Hank’s jaw clenched. And now you want out of the marriage? He didn’t blame her, being tricked and all.

Actually, I thought we might come to a compromise?

He raised a brow. What kind of compromise? She sure was calm for someone who’d been bamboozled into marriage. How much had society back east changed?

Praise for Sherrie Lea Morgan

Sherrie Lea Morgan captures a new genre with heart and soul wrapped up in a dose of magic all unique to her voice and style. Bravo!

~Kim Turner

Wylder’s Magic

by

Sherrie Lea Morgan

The Wylder West

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Wylder’s Magic

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Sherrie Lea Morgan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Cactus Rose Edition, 2021

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3509-4

The Wylder West

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Kim,

who keeps opening windows for me.

Thank you, always.

Author’s Note…

After significant research, I would like to apologize in advance for any errors my book may contain about the Sioux, Pawnee, or any other of the Indian Nations mentioned. I have only the utmost respect for our Native Americans and their history as well as their ancestry.

Chapter One

Lillian Jamison’s stomach clenched as she gasped at the words on the paper she held. Her fingers tightened, crinkling the official notice of her marriage. No. Mama wouldn’t do this, couldn’t do this, could she? Slowly, she refolded the paper and slipped it back into her reticule and squeezed her eyes closed. This can’t be happening.

I was right, wasn’t I? Margaret whispered.

The rumbling of the steel wheels of the train continued their rhythmic rotation—increasing the pounding pulsating in her head. Lillian popped her eyes open when Annie squeezed her elbow.

I must say, you took this news much better than I did.

Lillian tilted her head to the side. What do you mean?

Annie frowned. I screamed at my guardians and broke everything I could get my hands on. She pivoted back toward the window as a small group of wild horses ran across the hills. Over her shoulder, she continued, It’s not quite good news to discover one is the unwanted child of an aristocrat. I might have survived being shunned in society, if that had been all. However, still unsatisfied, my father insisted I marry, even via proxy, as we have done. Ship me off to live with the savages as though I chose to be born.

Margaret leaned forward. I told you, I’ve been in communication with my dear Edward, and although there are savages, it isn’t an uncivilized place where we’ll be making our home. There is a town, with dressmakers, a bookstore, and even a social club.

Annie scowled. Margaret, please. Your incessant chatter regaling us for the last hour of how this part of our lives should be exciting has not succeeded. I, for one, am not in the least bit happy to be marrying a complete stranger and living in America’s wilderness, Annie snapped. She lifted her hand. Please stop, I beg of you.

Margaret turned to Lillian. Do you feel the same?

When I believed this paper was a letter of introduction to work at the apothecary, I convinced myself this move was for the best. She sighed. But now…no.

Your husband may still allow you to work at the apothecary, if you ask.

My husband, Lillian whispered. Turning away from the two women whom she’d met when she boarded the train, she stared out the window beside her. Prairie fields blanketed the ground in a yellow hue and extended far into the dusty horizon. Mountains broke up the landscape at intervals, but rarely did they match the beauty of those back home. Home. Twisting her hands together, she let the memory of her goodbyes rush through her mind.

Images of her mother’s face as they packed Lillian’s belongings became clear. She hadn’t been worried how her daughter would do living in the untamed land of the west, as Lillian had thought. No. She’d been worried about how her daughter would be after discovering what they’d done. Her jaw clenched. Marry me off, will you? Hoping I won’t create another scandal. She huffed. She’d show them what she was capable of. At least the west didn’t believe in witches, too many no-nonsense people—which worked perfectly well in her favor.

The screeching of metal against metal reverberated against the floorboards, and her stomach churned along with the sound. Her blood pounded in tandem to each high pitch the wheels created until the train stopped with a sudden jerk and loud release of steam. Passengers rose one by one as the conductor strolled through the car announcing their destination of Wylder, Wyoming. Margaret and Annie both gathered their coin purses and rose.

Ready? Margaret said stepping forward first.

Annie pursed her lips as she blinked rapidly. Never.

Listen, it’s already done. We can do this. It can’t be any worse than dealing with the society we’ve left behind. Besides, we’ll see each other from time to time. Let’s not lose touch. Margaret clasped and squeezed Annie’s hand. Please, call me Maggie and promise you’ll give this a try?

Why do you care? Annie asked.

Because I think we all three could use a friend or two here as we begin another chapter of our lives, Maggie said softly.

Lillian smiled as she stood. I could use a friend. Thank you, Maggie.

Annie sniffled, then dipped her head in agreement.

The three worked their way through the crowd and down the steel steps of the train. As passengers hustled away, Lillian searched the faces of those standing nearby. Was he here? Her new husband? What was he like? She huffed out a breath. No use dwelling on the unknown. Please, Mother Moon, make him at least kind and understanding.

A woman with gray hair tied in a tight bun approached them with a smile and nod. I take it you’re our proxy brides?

Maggie stretched out a hand. Yes, we are.

Annie repeated the action. Thank you for meeting us.

My name is Sally Smithers, and the train is late. Father Jones is waiting for us at the church to bless y’all’s unions. She pivoted on her heels and briskly walked away.

Ma’am, what about our luggage? Maggie asked.

The woman kept walking waving an arm. No need to worry about that. Yer spouses done set arrangements to get those collected. Let’s pick up the pace, please.

Maggie stifled a giggle behind her hand and increased her pace with Annie following.

Lillian remained behind the group. Surely, there was someway she could get of this marriage. After all, she didn’t give her permission. Ma’am, I need to speak with you as I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.

Mrs. Smithers stopped