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A Lawman's Christmas (McKettricks, Book 14), by Linda Lael Miller
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The sudden death of the town marshal leaves Blue River, Texas, without a lawman…and twenty-five-year-old Dara Rose Nolan without a husband. As winter approaches and her meager seamstress income dwindles, she has three options. Yet she won't give up her two young daughters, refuses to join the fallen women of the Bitter Gulch Saloon and can't fathom condemning herself to another loveless marriage. Unfortunately she must decide—soon—because there's a new marshal in town, and she's living under his roof.
With the heart of a cowboy, Clay McKettrick plans to start a ranch and finally settle down. He isn't interested in uprooting Dara Rose and her children, but he is interested in giving her protection, friendship—and passion. And when they say "I do" to a marriage of convenience, the temporary lawman's Christmas wish is to make Dara Rose his permanent wife….
- Sales Rank: #1065498 in Books
- Published on: 2011-09-27
- Released on: 2011-09-27
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 7.50" h x 1.00" w x 5.50" l, .80 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 256 pages
Review
"Linda Lael Miller creates vibrant characters and stories I defy you to forget."-#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
"Miller tugs at the heartstrings as few authors can . . ."-Publishers Weekly
"Likable protagonists, a wealth of memorable secondary characters, and a... heart-touching plot make this warm, family-centered, information-rich 1910 prequel to Miller's 'Montana Creeds' trilogy a good choice for series fans and new readers as well."-Library Journal on A Creed Country Christmas
"Completely wonderful. Austin's interactions with Paige are fun and lively and the mystery that began in Tate's story ends with Austin's love story and adds quite a suspenseful punch."-RT Book Reviews on McKettricks of Texas: Austin
About the Author
The daughter of a town marshal, Linda Lael Miller is the author of more than 100 historical and contemporary novels. Now living in Spokane, Washington, the “First Lady of the West” hit a career high when all three of her 2011 Creed Cowboy books debuted at #1 on the New York Times list. In 2007, the Romance Writers of America presented her their Lifetime Achievement Award. She personally funds her Linda Lael Miller Scholarships for Women. Visit her at www.lindalaelmiller.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Early December, 1914
If the spark-throwing screech of iron-on-iron hadn't wrenched Clay McKettrick out of his uneasy sleep, the train's lurching stop—which nearly pitched him onto the facing seat—would surely have done the trick.
Grumbling, Clay sat up straight and glowered out the window, shoving splayed fingers through his dark hair.
Blue River, Texas. His new home. And more, for as the new marshal, he'd be responsible for protecting the town and its residents.
Not that he could see much of it just then, with all that steam from the smokestack billowing between the train and the depot.
The view didn't particularly matter to him, anyhow, since he'd paid a brief visit to the town a few months back and seen what there was to see—which hadn't been much, even in the sun-spangled, blue-sky days of summer. Now that winter was coming on—Clay's granddad, Angus, claimed it snowed dust and chiggers in that part of Texas—the rutted roads and weathered facades of the ramshackle buildings would no doubt be of bleak appearance.
With an inward sigh, Clay stood to retrieve his black, round-brimmed hat and worn duster from the wooden rack overhead. In the process, he allowed himself to ponder, yet again, all he'd left behind to come to this place at the hind end of beyond and carve out a life of his own making.
He'd left plenty.
A woman, to start with. And then there was his family, the sprawling McKettrick clan, including his ma and pa, Chloe and Jeb, his two older sisters and the thriving Triple M Ranch, with its plentitude of space and water and good grass.
A fragment of a Bible verse strayed across his brain. The cattle on a thousand hills…
There were considerably fewer than a thousand hills on the Triple M, big as it was, but the cattle were legion.
To his granddad's way of thinking, those hills and the land they anchored might have been on loan from the
Almighty, but everything else—cows, cousins, mineral deposits and timber included—belonged to Angus Mc-Kettrick, his four sons and his daughter, Katie.
Clay shrugged into the long coat and put on his hat. His holster and pistol were stowed in his trunk in the baggage compartment, and his paint gelding, Outlaw, rode all alone in the car reserved for livestock.
The only other passenger on board, an angular woman with severe features and no noticeable inclination toward small talk, remained seated, with the biggest Bible Clay had ever seen resting open on her lap. She seemed poised to leap right into the pages at the first hint of sin and disappear into all those apocalyptic threats and grand promises. According to the conductor, a fitful little fellow bearing the pitted scars of a long-ago case of smallpox, the lady had come all the way from Cincinnati with the express purpose of saving the heathen.
Clay—bone-tired, homesick for the ranch and for his kinfolks, and wryly amused, all of a piece—nodded a respectful farewell to the woman as he passed her seat, resisting the temptation to stop and inquire about the apparent shortage of heathens in Cincinnati.
Most likely, he decided, reaching the door, she'd already converted the bunch of them, and now she was out to wrestle the devil for the whole state of Texas. He wouldn't have given two cents for old Scratch's chances.
A chill wind, laced with tiny flakes of snow, buffeted Clay as he stepped down onto the small platform, where all three members of the town council, each one stuffed into his Sunday best and half-strangled by a celluloid collar, waited to greet the new marshal.
Mayor Wilson Ponder spoke for the group. "Welcome to Blue River, Mr. McKettrick," the fat man boomed, a blustery old cuss with white muttonchop whiskers and piano-key teeth that seemed to operate independently of his gums.
Clay, still in his late twenties and among the youngest of the McKettrick cousins, wasn't accustomed to being addressed as "mister"—around home, he answered to "hey, you"—and he sort of liked the novelty of it. "Call me Clay," he said.
There were handshakes all around.
The conductor lugged Clay's trunk out of the baggage car and plunked it down on the platform, then busily consulted his pocket watch.
"Better unload that horse of yours," he told Clay, in the officious tone so often adopted by short men who didn't weigh a hundred pounds sopping wet, "if you don't want him going right on to Fort Worth. This train pulls out in five minutes."
Clay nodded, figuring Outlaw would be ready by now for fresh air and a chance to stretch his legs, since he'd been cooped up in a rolling box ever since Flagstaff.
Taking his leave from the welcoming committee with a touch to the brim of his hat and a promise to meet them later at the marshal's office, he crossed the small platform, descended the rough-hewn steps and walked through cinders and lingering wisps of steam to the open door of the livestock car. He lowered the heavy ramp himself and climbed into the dim, horse-scented enclosure.
Outlaw nickered a greeting, and Clay smiled and patted the horse's long neck before picking up his saddle and other gear and tossing the lot of it to the ground beside the tracks.
That done, he loosed the knot in Outlaw's halter rope and led the animal toward the ramp.
Some horses balked at the unfamiliar, but not Outlaw. He and Clay had been sidekicks for more than a decade, and they trusted each other in all circumstances.
Outside, in the brisk, snow-dappled wind, having traversed the slanted iron plate with no difficulty, Outlaw blinked, adjusting his unusual blue eyes to the light of midafternoon. Clay meant to let the gelding stand un-tethered while he put the ramp back in place, but before he could turn around, a little girl hurried around the corner of the brick depot and took a competent hold on the lead rope.
She couldn't have been older than seven, and she was small even for that tender age. She wore a threadbare calico dress, a brown bonnet and a coat that, although clean, had seen many a better day. A blond sausage curl tumbled from inside the bonnet to gleam against her forehead, and she smiled with the confidence of a seasoned wrangler.
"My name is Miss Edrina Nolan," she announced importantly. "Are you the new marshal?"
Amused, Clay tugged at his hat brim to acknowledge her properly and replied, "I am. Name's Clay McKettrick."
Edrina put out her free hand. "How do you do, Mr. McKettrick?" she asked.
"I do just fine," he said, with a little smile. Growing up on the Triple M, he and all his cousins had been around horses all their lives, so the child's remarkable ease with a critter many times her size did not surprise him.
It was impressive, though.
"I'll hold your horse," she said. "You'd better help the railroad man with that ramp. He's liable to hurt himself if you don't."
Clay looked back over one shoulder and, sure enough, there was the banty rooster of a conductor, struggling to hoist that heavy slab of rust-speckled iron off the ground so the train could get under way again. He lent his assistance, figuring he'd just spared the man a hernia, if not a heart attack, and got a glare for his trouble, rather than thanks.
Since the fellow's opinion made no real never-mind to Clay either way, he simply turned back to the little girl, ready to reclaim his horse.
She was up on the horse's back, her faded skirts billowing around her, and with the snow-strained sunlight framing her, she looked like one of those cherub-children gracing the pages of calendars, Valentines and boxes of ready-made cookies.
"Whoa, now," he said, automatically taking hold of the lead rope. Given that he hadn't saddled Outlaw yet, he was somewhat mystified as to how she'd managed to mount up the way she had. Maybe she really was a cherub, with little stubby wings hidden under that thin black coat.
Up ahead, the engineer blew the whistle to signal imminent departure, and Outlaw started at the sound, though he didn't buck, thank the good Lord.
"Whoa," Clay repeated, very calmly but with a note of sternness. It was then that he spotted the stump on the other side of the horse and realized that Edrina must have scrambled up on that to reach Outlaw's back.
They all waited—man, horse and cherub—until the train pulled out and the racket subsided somewhat.
Edrina smiled serenely down at him. "Mama says we'll all have to go to the poorhouse, now that you're here," she announced.
"Is that so?" Clay asked mildly, as he reached up, took the child by the waist and lifted her off the horse, setting her gently on her feet. Then he commenced to collecting Outlaw's blanket, saddle and bridle from where they'd landed when he tossed them out of the railroad car, and tacking up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the town-council contingent straggling off the platform.
Edrina nodded in reply to his rhetorical question, still smiling, and the curl resting on her forehead bobbed with the motion of her head. "My papa was the marshal a while back," she informed Clay matter-of-factly, "but then he died in the arms of a misguided woman in a room above the Bitter Gulch Saloon and left us high and dry."
Clay blinked, wondering if he'd mistaken Edrina Nolan for a child when she was actually a lot older. Say, forty.
"I see," he said, after clearing his throat. "That's unfortunate. That your papa passed on, I mean." Clay had known the details of his predecessor's death, having been regaled with the story the first time he set foot in Blue River, but it took him aback that Edrina knew it, too.
She folded her arms and watched critically as he threw on Outlaw's beat-up saddle and put the cinch through the buckle. "Can you shoot a gun and everything?" she wanted to know.
Clay spared her a sidelong glance and a nod. Why wasn't this child in school? Did her mother know she was running loose like a wild Indian and leaping onto the backs of other people's horses when they weren't looking?
And where the heck had a kid her age learned to ride like that?
"Good," Edrina said, with a relieved sigh, her little arms still folded. "Because Papa couldn't be trusted with a firearm. Once, when he was cleaning a pistol, meaning to go out and hunt rabbits for stew, it went off by accident and made a big hole in the floor. Mama put a chair over it—she said it was so my sister, Harriet, and I wouldn't fall in and wind up under the house, with all the cobwebs and the mice, but I know it was really because she was embarrassed for anybody to see what Papa had done. Even Harriet has more sense than to fall in a hole, for heaven's sake, and she's only five."
Clay suppressed a smile, tugged at the saddle to make sure it would hold his weight, put a foot into the stirrup and swung up. Adjusted his hat in a gesture of farewell. "I'll be seeing you, chatterbox," he said kindly.
"What about your trunk?" Edrina wanted to know. "Are you just going to leave it behind, on the platform?"
"I mean to come back for it later in the day," Clay explained, wondering why he felt compelled to clarify the matter at all. "This horse and I, we've been on that train for a goodly while, and right now, we need to stretch our muscles a bit."
"I could show you where our house is," Edrina persisted, scampering along beside Outlaw when Clay urged the horse into a walk. "Well, I guess it's your house now."
"Maybe you ought to run along home," Clay said. "Your mama's probably worried about you."
"No," Edrina said. "Mama has no call to worry. She thinks I'm in school."
Clay bit back another grin.
Most helpful customer reviews
15 of 17 people found the following review helpful.
Charming Setting, Delightful Characters
By Tooncesmom
A Lawman's Christmas is the latest in Linda Lael Miller's McKettrick saga and features Clay McKettrick who leaves Arizona to accept a marshal's job in the town of Blue River, Texas.
When Clay McKettrick accepts a job as the marshal of the small town Blue River, Texas, it's not his only plan, but a means to achieve what he really wants: a wife, children, and a ranch. The time is 1914. Hostilities in Europe are hotting up; it's only a matter of time until buyers will be looking for cattle to feed the armies. Clay plans to be ready. What he doesn't plan on is falling for his predecessor's widow.
Dara Rose Nolan is occupying the cottage promised to the new marshal as part of his pay package. But Dara Rose and her two small girls don't have another place to go...not unless she decides to accept a neighboring rancher's offer to be his housekeeper and send her daughters to the poor house. Clay, struck by the young woman's plight and determination, decides he can bunk at the jailhouse until other arrangements can be made, but two things happen to change his mind. First, he's attracted to the young woman and her precocious daughters, and second, the town council is going to evict Dara Rose and sell the cottage if Clay isn't going to use it. A hasty marriage seems the expedient thing to do, but is it the answer or an attempt at a solution with even greater problems?
Dara Rose is also attracted to Clay, but can she risk telling the handsome lawman her own secrets? Can she risk her heart over a man who may turn out to be one more disappointment in a life of disappointments?
Ms. Miller has created a charming Christmas story that had me hooked from the first page. Dara Rose and her daughters were very much three-dimensional characters, and her hesitance around Clay understandable. I liked her resourcefulness and thrift, even thought I didn't buy the December productivity of her laying hens (mine all but stop laying in October and don't begin again until February, but maybe California hens differ from Texas hens?) Still, the eggs arriving in the nick of time makes for a sweet story. I felt the epilogue was overdone in that it was an eleven page love scene which seemed like an add-on, just to show the reader that Dara Rose and Clay were going to have a steamy marriage. In the case of A Lawman's Christmas with its charming setting and delightful characters, I think less is more.
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
Charming Romance, Great Characters
By Love Westerns
It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of reading a new western historical romance from Ms. Miller since lately most of her new releases have been contemporary westerns and that may be the reason I devoured this book in practically one sitting. Or it could be that, like always, I found her characters so multi-dimensional and her hero so darn appealing that I just couldn't put the book down. Ms. Miller's characters have a way of sitting down right in the middle of my heart and Dara Rose and especially her children, Harriet and Edrina, are no exception. Even though the ending was a happy one and not unexpected, tears still filled my eyes and that ability to pull emotion, which is done throughout the book, is what makes this book so enjoyable and a perfect read for the holidays. I hope Ms. Miller follows this one up with a book about Clay's cousin Sawyer because not only is he an intriguing character but I want to check in on little Edrina and Harriet and see how they are getting along with their new Daddy. This is a charming romance with appealing characters that will sweep you up and transport you in an instant to the heart of the Old West.
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
heartwarming feel good tale
By kimbacaffeinate
Every once in a while I have a hankering for a cowboy, and since my husband refuses to don a cowboy hat and boots, I turn to Linda Lael Miller. One of my favorite series by her is the McKettrick's series and boy howdy! Set in 1914 in Texas, A Lawman's Christmas is the perfect short novel for a cold winter eve. This tale is all about Clay McKettrick the son of Chloe and Jeb. I consumed this in a single afternoon and it certainly got me in the holiday spirit.
Clay McKettrick accepts the job of Marshal in Blue River, Texas and arrives ready to build his own cattle ranch, set down roots and find himself a wife. Dara Rose Nolan the former marshal's wife is not looking forward to the bleak Christmas she and her girls will face. When the new Marshall arrives she and her girls will have to vacate their home. Refusing to become a fallen woman, she is faced with some horrible options. Clay doesn't want to uproot this family but when the town mayor decides to sell the marshal home if he isn't living it, the two enter a marriage of convenience. Dara sees it as a temporary solution but if the smexy lawman gets his way she'll be more than his wife in name only. The tale that unfolds was bittersweet, heartwarming and gave us a touch of life in 1914.
Miller has a way of creating characters that I quickly come to care for and this tale was no exception. Dara has hard life. She is strong, independent and a good mother to her girls. She holds her head up proudly, even as she doubts her own self-worth. Her daughters Edrina and Harriet are delightful and at times stole the show. They are spunky and inquisitive. Now Clay is all McKettrick and exactly the kind of smexy, loyal, kind, drool worthy cowboy ya all dream about. Did I mention he is devilishly handsome and likes dogs? He and his horse Outlaw are immediately taken with Dara's children and the romance that unfolded between Dara and Clay was sweet and felt genuine. Townsfolk add interest to the tale and setting. I am especially curious to learn more about the school teacher Miss Alvira Krenshaw and hope we get her story. *hint*
The plot was simple and sweet against the harsh backdrop of this rural town. It delivers a message of love, hope and most of all believing. I loved the town and its people as the general merchant, school house and Saloon came to life. The romance unfolded slowly, despite the "marriage" but given the time period, this type of thing happened every day. The eBook I purchased came with a second novel called Daring Moves and is a contemporary romance. originally posted at caffeinated book reviewer dot com
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