is the third Oregon historical. The Civil War has just ended. The Stevens family (from Books 1 and 2) is pretty well settled in the Willamette Valley (well, except for Belle). Their life though is about to make a major change.
One drawback to a pre-order is the reader can't read the sample. So I am going to put the beginning here.
Excerpt:
June 1865 Portland, Oregon
Raine
Stevens, along with the rest of the cast, walked from the wings to stand in the
lights at the front of the stage. They took their bows, as the remaining
gaslights were brought up to illuminate the auditorium. A sense of
accomplishment filled her, as the audience rose to give them and Kirk Edmonton’s
exciting play a standing ovation. Even a few bravos rang out. She smiled at her
mother, step-father, sister, and brother-in-law in the first row.
Russell
Grayson walked up the aisle with a large bouquet of red roses, but her gaze was
drawn from him to the back of the auditorium. A man, taller than those around
him, stood watching her. His features were sharp. Tawny hair hung almost to his
shoulders. He resembled, but no, he couldn’t be Jed Hardman.
To
clear her head, she looked back at Russell, who was now at the edge of the
stage. It wasn’t the first time she had been wrong in thinking she’d seen Jed. She
knelt to take the roses from Russ. Smiling, she thanked him and rose, clasping
them to her breast. At the back of the large hall, people were beginning to
stream out the doors. There was no unusually tall man among them.
Half
an hour later, in her dressing room, her mother helped her out of her elaborate
gown. With its layers of lace and silk, she would only wear something like it
in a play. In slips, she sat at her dresser to wipe off the heavy stage makeup,
while sipping from a glass of water.
“You’ve
never given a finer performance,” her mother said. “I should have brought Eli.”
“And
Laura,” Amy added with a nod of agreement. “They would both have enjoyed it.
They’re old enough now.”
“There
will be other opportunities,” Raine said, as she slipped into a simple, yellow dress
and waited as her mother buttoned up its back. She felt full of nervous energy
but was unsure how much was from the completed run of a play or those few
seconds when she thought she had seen Jed.
“I
liked your character,” Amy said. “She was strong and willful, funny too. This
is the first time I’ve seen you carry off comedy. I can’t recall the writer’s
name, but he managed to insert humor into pathos. True genius to make an
audience want to laugh and cry at the same time.”
Raine
perched on the edge of her dressing table and drank more water. “The playwright
is Kirk Edmonton.”
“Was
he in the audience?” Amy asked.
“He
came opening night and seemed satisfied with how it had gone. He wasn’t here
tonight. I agree about his gifts. His dialogue flows, feels real and yet as you
said, can be funny and sarcastic. No wasted words. I always believe in his
characters-- like in how he gave depth to Sadie and also the man she finally
chose for her own.”
“Well,
you knew she’d get her way.”
“They
don’t always, those strong, willful women,” Raine said with a smile. “I should
do a tragedy next time-- just to show the other side.”
“And
then at least my daughter won’t be coming,” Amy retorted. “She isn’t ready for
more life complexity than needful. When our neighbor, Eunice died, it was
upsetting for her, had her questioning life and meaning. She was more aware
than the younger ones.”
“All
right, no tragedies for now.” She didn’t need them either.
“How
is Fanny doing?” her mother asked.
“I
haven’t seen much of her since she came back from Eunice’s funeral,” Raine said
brushing out here hair. “She is busy, living the life to which she was born, a
large staff, a home to manage, causes to support, clubs to join. It was a huge
loss to her though. No one will ever support her emotionally as much as her
mother did.”
“I
thought we might see her and Horace tonight.”
“They
also were at the opening. The whole time we chatted, Fanny was trying to talk
him into taking her to San Francisco
for shopping. She’s finding our stores less than exciting now that she has more
money to spend.”
“They
say familiarity breeds contempt,” Amy teased.
“I
will not take offense... or try not to. I do what I can to keep my stores up to
date-- with new styles for the ladies as well as the home. Some people though
cannot be satisfied unless it came from a city more exciting than Stump Town.”
“There
are those who love the excitement of big cities,” her mother agreed and then
sighed. “I wish Belle lived closer, could see you in these plays. It
disappointed me when, after college, she settled in Chicago—of all places. Why on earth there?”
“Perhaps
you should visit her and ask.” Pleasing parents wasn’t that easy in Raine’s
experience. Her mother would like her living in Oregon City,
but Portland
was her home. While it might not yet be as cosmopolitan as San Francisco or Chicago, someday it would.
“She
would no doubt be no less evasive than she is in letters,” her mother said with
that expression which told Raine she was thinking about more than she was
saying. “But you are right, it’s not my business. Besides, whenever I’ve
suggested visiting, she writes that she’ll be gone but will let me know a good
time. She has yet to give me one.”
“Family
has never mattered that much to Belle,” Amy said, not hiding her disapproval.
“That’s
not all her fault,” Raine said, trying to be fair. “Being so much younger, she
probably felt she grew up without the kind of closeness you and I enjoyed with
only being a year apart.”
“I
give up, oh mighty peacemaker,” Amy teased. “Let’s forget her. Maybe next time we
can talk St. Louis
into coming with us. He complains that cities aren’t for him, can’t stand
crowds, but he’d be so proud to see you in a play like this one—once he came.”
“How
is he?”
“Feisty
as ever.”
“Good,”
Raine said with a grin. “I’ll be up river soon anyway and will try to see him
then.”
Listening
to Amy and their mother talk about the children, the trip downriver on the steamboat,
her mind was elsewhere and on those few seconds she had thought he was watching
her. She had never told her family about Jed. Why would she, since there had
been nothing to tell? Certainly nothing, she’d want them to know regarding her
foolishness.
Maybe
her feelings were tangled up in the Civil War finally ending. After Lee
surrendered, she had thought maybe, if he had survived the fighting, he would return
to Oregon. Except,
a man, who had wanted to see her again, would have written. In four years he’d
been gone, she’d received no letter. So many had died on both sides-- but more
on the side for which he had fought, the South.
She
turned back to the mirror, attempting to wrap her hair into a bun. Frustrated,
she gave up and used combs to pull it back from her face. In the mirror, she
saw herself, her mother, and sister reflected. She didn’t have their black
hair, but the three of them had fine boned faces and slim bodies. Raine’s reddish-brown
hair, a product of her father’s heritage, was wavier than she liked. If she
could have changed it to something smoother, more manageable, she would have. More
silliness. Life was what it was. She wasn’t going to be changing anything.
