Shamus: Love On The Wind, #1

By Jewel Adams

The Comanche called it "magic". Shamus wasn't beyond believing in such things. Miss Maggie Chauncey was in for a battle that Shamus intended to win, and he would play hard and dirty to get what he wanted.

"You want someone to save your precious ranch without giving any effort on your part." Shamus jerked her up short when she tried to pull away. "Hiding from the truth isn't allowed out here, Maggie. You left the social graces back in Boston."

She dreamed of joining her brother out west, only to learn on her arrival someone murdered Jamie. Now, she was alone and needed this man. "I hate you, Shamus!"

That's right, little lady, I want to be sure you see exactly what I'm about to tell you…because when you answer, nothing will stop me. "I'll stay as your husband." He watched the swirl of emotions brightening those blue eyes to a deep violet. "You will marry me tomorrow in town. That is the requirement, Maggie."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jewel Adams
• Release date: Jan 12, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230782025

Jewel Adams

Jewel Adams FOLLOW THIS AUTHOR LATEST RELEASE GET IT NOW Also, by Jewel Adams... Loves In Time Other books by Jewel Adams Quilted Hills Series Internal Heritage Series Jewel Adams - Best Selling Author of Romance with a Touch of Spice! Hi, I am Jewel Adams, an author of various romance genres. I love to write an adventure in my story and fell in love with Time Travel Romances. I currently have ten stand-alone novels in my Loves in Time series.  Remember to check out my new Fantasy series, Internal Heritage. They are all very exciting reads. Enjoy. I also have an Amish Romance series that includes five books. My friend Bev Haynes and I write the Quilted Hill series together. My All-Time Best Seller is SAVAGE DESTINY, a white captive Indian story set during the early Western movement in America. This love story will stay in your heart forever. We can never forget DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC, a sweet Romance Time Travel set in the West. This and Savage Destiny are my favorite covers of all time.  I just released the tenth novel in the Loves In Time-Romance Time Travel series IMPOSTOR IN TIME. Erin discovers when the nightmare becomes reality the adventure begins. Always check back to see what I am up to :)  Jewel Adams  https://authorjeweladams.com/ https://books2read.com/ap/Rwd3Xd/Jewel-Adams  

Book preview

LOVE ON THE WIND SERIES

Book 1

Shamus

​CHAPTER 1

The blue coated arms released the trunks by throwing them into each other, her lips closed tight, and Maggie’s angry words burned in her throat. If any of her possessions remained in one piece after the mauling they’d been through it would be a wonder.

That’s the last.

Ignoring the leering conductor’s rude gaze, it would be a relief to be rid of the obnoxious man and his infernal train. She walked through the cloud of hissing steam as the monstrous wheels began their slow, laborious chant, but Maggie’s gaze remained fixed on the distance.

After weeks of travel Maggie felt dirty, tired and not a little exasperated over what she’d seen since leaving Boston. Her impatience to be rid of waiting for surly conductors and capped clerks in their unreachable box made her teeth grit. The Pacific Railroad would do well to hire more agreeable personnel if they wanted to keep passengers on board their trains.

Her thick lashed eyes tightened over the fact that none of her tirade would change the fact there wasn’t any other transportation available to reach Cheyenne. Maggie refused to believe the crude sorts she’d been in company with these last weeks were expected to be gentlemen.

Heathens all! She hissed under her breath, repeating her Aunt’s favorite saying. How can you go there, Margaret? Jamie must be mad to send for you...chasing dreams, and now he’s asking you to do the same.  Her aunt’s words didn’t change her mind. There certainly wasn’t anything holding her back in Boston, and since her brother left to go out west, Maggie felt very lonely. Living in that great old house with two aging aunts as her only company became positively suffocating.

At twenty-four, she felt thirty and was getting older daily under their over-loving rule. She prayed Jamie wouldn’t forget his promise to send for her, and he hadn’t let her down. When his letter finally came, Maggie called on every smidgen of courage not to let the dear ladies intimidate her into remaining.

Admitting the slightest truth of Aunt Elizabeth’s words would be giving in to the defeating questions she herself silently asked these last days. She couldn’t help voicing the wisdom of coming. The differences out here still shocked her. She did wish Jamie had been more realistic in the telling of what to expect. This west did sit just this side of barbaric.

Maggie cleared her throat, so the clerk had to acknowledge her.

Yes, Ma’am?

Could you take care of my trunks for a bit?

The man eyed her baggage as if he were being put out of his way. The depot closes at sundown.

Maggie refused to be put off when it was eight in the morning. I assure you I will be back before the sun sets.

Leaving before her bravado fled, she forced her small feet to take determined steps across the planked platform. Feeling as rugged as where she now found herself, her temper stayed high. She’d been fed a constant serving of impertinence from these men, and she determined not to tolerate it anymore.

At the edge of the platform, she faltered, unable to step out into what she took in. Maggie moaned over the drab, ungracious street with its side-by-side buildings strung out into the dirt-packed ruts passing for a road. No matter how many of these western towns she passed through, she still found the dust of their uncivilized existence sticking in her throat.

She couldn’t bring herself to call them a town, they were hardly that. Teetering clapboard, grouped together in a mixed match of thought that seemed condemned to the whims of whoever held the next swing of the hammer. For a second, her thoughts went back to the tree-lined brick streets with their darling picket fences on the streets of Boston.

Sighing, Maggie brushed the memory aside and told herself. This is it, Maggie. It was your decision. Regrets aren’t allowed.

Squaring her shoulders, Margaret Chauncey lived with regrets long enough. She looked beyond the ramshackle scene for Jamie. Clutching the cloth purse, she felt his worn letter and the words that carried her here.

'Ti's a fine land, lass. Join me, Maggie. Life takes hold of you here. She stood there in her best traveling suit that no longer held its crisp tailored lines after hours of sitting on hard, unforgiving seats. Self-consciously, her small hand tried to smooth down the stylish draped front of the scarlet skirt and the small bolero jacket that curved over her full breasts. The full silk sleeve of her blouse, showing from the elbow down with its pearl buttoned cuffs, no longer looked new. The dust embedded in the exquisite material made her wonder if she could ever bring its richness back.

Her hand went up to the matching cap set jauntily to the side of her head. The scarlet velvet bow was a soft contrast against her rich black hair. Maggie wasn’t a vain person, but she always took great pride in the care of her appearance. Just knowing how frumpy she felt told her how disheveled she must look. A long hot bath would do wonders for her sagging morale.

She looked around and turned back to the station.

Her brow creased in worry. Jamie should have been there to greet her. Surely, he received her reply. She’d been very explicit about the schedule and her arrival. Thankfully, the stage and the train were true to their claims. The memory made her catch her breath over the ravenous speeds used to adhere to the designated and unrealistic time schedules. But then, everyone and everything seemed directed to be in a rush out here. To get where is what she would like to know.

Maggie struggled with her disappointment and growing concern over Jamie’s absence. She tried not to get flustered. It wasn’t like him to be late. Maybe her letter never reached him in time. It was almost funny to believe she beat it here. "Tis a long way to your Wyoming, dear brother.

Pacing for she tired of sitting on her trunks these last hours, Maggie’s fingers worked over the braided edge of her jacket. She came to the end of the boardwalk and turned, refusing to acknowledge the raised brow of the ticket clerk.

That’s it, Jamie! She took a deep breath to fortify her decision and marched over to the infernal window.

Yes, ma’am?

Tis a livery I desire. Where might it be?

If’n it is a coach you’re asking about taint none about these parts, lest not like you mean.

Closing her mouth, Maggie swallowed her sharp retort over his arrogance. She didn’t like the uneasy feelings coming over her, and she wished Jamie would arrive.

Now, you might try Ben Watkin’s place; he usually has a rig for hire.

And where might I find Mr. Watkin?

At the end of the main street, can’t miss it.

It only took her a moment to decide. Please watch my things, I’ll be back to collect them shortly. She didn’t wait to see if he protested her order, beyond caring what the man thought.

Waiting for Jamie when he might never know she arrived seemed a foolish waste of time. The disagreeable thought of staying in this so-called town any longer firmed her decision. She had no idea how far Jamie’s ranch was from town, but she’d soon find out.

The ill manners she began to take as commonplace out here seemed to run rampant through these gruff men. Their bold gazes followed her progress down the haphazard wooden walk running in front of the storefronts. Some were so brazen as to force her to walk around them as they stood directly in her path. Their crude remarks made her stomach tighten painfully in apprehension. Be it pride or fear, she hid it well.

She kept her gaze averted and her sharp tongue silent as her back grew stiff under the effort. The mounting evidence that this was a wild untamed place that she’d come to wouldn’t settle down. At least the clerk spoke true, her gaze read across the large block letters on the barn front. Watkins Stable and Blacksmith.

She stepped into the dark interior as the strong, pungent odor of horses invaded her nostrils. Smelling salts couldn’t have awakened her senses faster.

The sound of metal hitting metal drew her deeper into the interior. A large man in a leather apron stood over the anvil. The heat was an unbearable wall keeping her back. Maggie couldn’t take her eyes away from the burly lift of his massive arm. When it swung down, the vibrating noise made her flinch, drawing his sweat-streaked face her way.

Be right with you.

Nodding, Maggie tried not to fidget. Maybe it was his size that suddenly made her realize where she stood. If ever she was in the need to be reminded that she was a woman, now standing in a male’s dominion, he could bring it down upon her.

The rushing hiss of steam that came as he lowered the horseshoe into the bucket of water brought her instantly alert.

Now, what can I do for you?

I... Taking a deep breath, this wasn’t the time to lose her nerve. I need a wagon.

The dark bunch of thick eyebrows rose. Maggie stood firm before the dark gaze that took in her five-foot two inch frame, from head to toe.

You ever drive a team?

The question was absurd. I’d be needing a driver as well.

No doubt, and where might you be needing to get to?

Jamie Chauncey’s Ranch.

No, she didn’t mistake the sudden change in the man towering over her. A chill crept over Maggie, making her teeth bare down to silence their chatter.

I’ll get the wagon ready. My boy can drive you out.

I’ve trunks at the depot.

He just nodded and started walking away, she guessed to ready the