Wild Dawn
, one of my favorite American frontier books, written as Cait Logan, is re-appearing by Cait London :) BTW, I traveled to research, and the "dawn" overlay in the cover is actually the sunset taken from my home.Here is my Dear Reader letter in the book, because to me, author's backstories are interesting:
Dear Reader:
As Cait Logan, I wrote several western historical romances, and category (series romance). I’m placing these into epublishing (as Cait London) for those who enjoyed them the first time, and those who are just discovering these lovely Northwest historicals. (I hope you read Delilah and the Mountie, one of my favorites, now available.) I traveled these trails and visited forts and vistas, and loved every minute of research.
Wild Dawn reflects how many bargain-made marriages began in history. To survive in Wild Dawn, and with danger all around Lady Regina, evil pursuing her, she must accept the mountain man, MacGregor’s offer of safe-keeping and marriage. While MacGregor is serious about marriage, he’s pretty rough around the edges, though he means well. But Regina only wants his help to get to safety. And then, there’s Jack, his adorable little son, just four months old and needing a woman’s care. MacGregor will fight to keep this English lady safe and safely wed to him... He’s in for a surprise with this “little woman”, set on escaping him and building her own life. For MacGregor and Regina, it truly is a new start, a new Wild Dawn.
I just love MacGregor, rough as he is. One of my favorite heroes, and I hope yours.
I also fell in love with the paisley shawl, a fashion of the day, and used that as a theme in a contemporary weaver’s novel, Tallchief for Keeps, a romance amid the Tallchief Silhouette Desire miniseries.
As an artist, I loved these written canvases and I hope you do, too.
....
How the mountainman MacGregor proposed to the English Lady Regina, who has been deserted and is starving in a mountain cabin is next....
He shifted his arm beneath the fur cape, the wind lifting the edges about his calves. “My son, Jack, is under this robe. He needs that cabin tonight, and I’m coming in. That fancy little gun won’t go through buffalo hide. The chambers are empty anyway.... Tuck it away.”
When she stared at him blankly, he nodded and took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate you asking me in. I’ve come a long way for you.”
Long legs shifted restlessly beneath the buffalo cape. “The Indians know you’re MacGregor’s woman—that’s me—MacGregor. I’m needing a woman for Jack, ma’am, and you’re the choice cow of the herd.”
“Cow?” she repeated blankly.
“Female... woman,” he answered impatiently. “You’ll find I’m not good with words.”
Stunned, Regina’s gaze slid down the tall man’s body, shrouded by the cape down to his buckskin leggings and boots.
A cold chill ran up her spine before she straightened her shoulders. Fear danced over her flesh like icy sleet. The mountain man had no claim on her; his arrogance caused her to remember her father.
“I’m a blunt-spoken woman,” she tossed back at him. “I haven’t heard of you, nor am I ‘your woman.’ If you have a child in your robes, show him to me and you may have shelter for the night.”
When he spoke the wind rose, penetrating the rags covering her feet. MacGregor’s black eyes sliced at her, and his voice reminded her of a castle mastiff’s growl. “No one doubts my word, ma’am. Jack’s tucked in snug enough, and I’m not bringing him out until we’re in the cabin. I’m done palaverin’—talking.”
He lowered his head deeper into the mass of buffalo fur. “I’m tired and my son needs that cabin, ma’am,” he said roughly. “We’re coming in. You’ve got the night to think about living or dying.... The way I see it is, you have four choices: You can freeze in that cabin this winter— alone... let the Indians turn you into a tribal squaw... or maybe some trapper will set you up as his property in a back room and hire you out.”
Then he added quietly, “Or you can marry me.”
....
MacGregor and the Lady Regina do not expect what will happen in this marriage of convenience.
I hope you enjoy one of my favorite stories.
