Heartbreak Creek

Table of Contents

 

 

 

OPEN COUNTRY

 

“A thoroughly enjoyable historical romance.”

—
Night Owl Reviews
(Top Pick)

 

“Vivid imagery . . . [A] beautifully spun tale that will leave readers satisfied, yet yearning for Jack’s story.”

—
The Season
(Top Pick)

 

“A wonderful historical tale starring a strong ensemble cast . . . [A] superb Reconstruction era romance.”

—
Genre Go Round Reviews

 

“Warner earned readers’ respect as a strong western writer with her debut, the first book in the Blood Rose Trilogy. With the second, she cements that reputation. Her powerful prose, realistic details, and memorable characters all add up to a compelling, emotionally intense read.”

—
Romantic Times

 

 

PIECES OF SKY

 

“Readers may need a big box of Kleenex while reading this emotionally compelling, subtly nuanced tale of revenge, redemption, and romance, but this flawlessly written book is worth every tear.”

—
Chicago Tribune

 

“In her auspicious debut, Warner kicks off the Blood Rose Trilogy . . . Warner develops [the] romance with well-paced finesse and great character work . . . Warner makes great use of the vivid Old West setting.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“Romance, passion, and thrilling adventure fill the pages of this unforgettable saga that sweeps the reader from England to the Old West. Jessy and Brady are truly lovers for the ages!”

—Rosemary Rogers

 

“
Pieces of Sky
reminds us why New Mexico is called the land of enchantment.”

—Jodi Thomas,
New York Times
bestselling author

 

“Generates enough heat to light the old New Mexico sky. A sharp, sweet love story of two opposites, a beautifully observed setting, and
voilà
—a romance you won’t soon forget.”

—Sara Donati, author of
The Endless Forest

 

“From the first page, it’s clear why debut author Warner has won several awards. Her western romance is a striking portrait of the territory in all its reality, harshness, and beauty. Like Francine Rivers, Warner creates a novel of the human spirit’s ability to conquer emotional and physical obstacles. She conveys her characters perfectly, giving them lives of their own. Readers will be waiting breathlessly for the next book in the Blood Rose Trilogy.”

—
Romantic Times

 

“A very good book.”

—
All About Romance

 

“It’s been a very long time since I read an engaging and sweet historical romance such as
Pieces of Sky . . .
I absolutely loved Kaki Warner’s writing.”

—
Babbling About Books

 

“I loved everything about this book.”

—
Roundtable Reviews

 

 

HEARTBREAK CREEK

 

 

PIECES OF SKY
OPEN COUNTRY
CHASING THE SUN

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are 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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2011 by Kathleen Warner.

Excerpt from
Colorado Dawn
by Kaki Warner copyright © by Kathleen Warner.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. BERKLEY
^®
SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

PRINTING HISTORY

Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / July 2011

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Warner, Kaki.

Heartbreak creek / Kaki Warner.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed.

p. cm.

ISBN : 978-1-101-51652-2

1. Mail order brides—Fiction. 2. Ranch life—Fiction. 3. Colorado—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3623.A8633H43 2011

813’.6—dc22

2011010070

 

 

 

E
dwina Ladoux stood at the window in her late father’s office and watched a small two-wheeled carriage swing through the front gate.

Or rather, what was left of the front gate. The filigreed ironwork had been torn off years ago—rumor was it now graced the back garden of a bordello up by Bossier City—and the lovely stone pillars had toppled soon after. Quarry stone was hard to come by in bayou country, so back when there had still been hope of rebuilding, she and Pru had laboriously carried the stones around to the orchard to fill in the gaps in the garden wall. But now that wall had fallen, too.

The carriage rolled briskly down the oyster shell drive beneath the long-armed oaks and their streamers of moss. Only three of the original trees remained. The fourth had burned the night the Yankees came but had stood until high winds toppled it two years later. Now it sprawled across the lawn like a blackened skeleton, slowly sinking into the overgrowth.

The carriage stopped and the driver stepped down, a tall, thin man Edwina knew well. Bernard Alexander, and his father before him, and his grandfather before that, had been bankers for the Whitneys for almost seventy-five years. He probably dreaded this meeting as much as Edwina did. And he hadn’t come alone, she noted, recognizing the other occupant as he came around the back of the carriage. He’d brought Reverend Morton.

Reinforcements? In case the distraught Widow Ladoux needed a tut-tut and a pat on the shoulder to help soften the loss of the home that had been in her family for three-quarters of a century? Bless his heart.

The front door opened and closed. Murmured greetings. Without furniture or carpets to muffle sound, voices carried through the empty house. A moment later, footfalls thudded in the hall. Clasping her hands at her waist to hide the shaking, Edwina turned as the door opened.

But only her sister, Prudence, stepped inside. “Mr. Alexander is here. Reverend Morton has come with him.”

“I saw. Is he expecting a ruckus, do you think?”

“Oh, dear.”

Edwina gave a brittle laugh to cover the fear gripping her throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

Pru hated scenes. Edwina—the impulsive, high-spirited sister—thrived on them. As with any well-bred, well-trained southern lady of quality, drama was her weapon, just as pride was her strength. Like the whalebone corsets and hoops under her dress, they shaped her and supported her, hiding beneath the bows and ruffles and hospitable smile the core of determination that gave her the strength to endure what she must.

Today would be a test of that. Today she had a task to perform—her last as the sole survivor of the Whitney family and inheritor of Rose Hill. With the flourish of a pen, her own personal drama would be over. She could finally drop the mask of brave but impoverished southern widow struggling to cling to her home while the last shreds of a way of life crumbled around her. She was so very weary of the pretense.

It was liberating, in a way. This final act had been so long in coming she was almost glad to have it done. She was ready for a new role.

More or less.

Pru walked toward her, her footfalls echoing hollowly off the stripped walls and empty shelves and bare wood floor. “Do you want me to stay?”

Edwina saw the worry in her sister’s dark eyes and forced a smile. “What I want is for you to keep Reverend Morton occupied. If I have to suffer through one more pitying glance or murmured platitude, I declare I will throw myself out the window.”

Pru arched a dark brow. “And fall the entire twelve inches onto the veranda? You brave thing.” Reaching out, she gave Edwina’s clasped hands a gentle squeeze. “He’s only trying to help.”

“Like he helps all the lonely widows?” Seeing Pru was about to scold, Edwina waved her away. “Fine. I’ll be nice. But really. Doesn’t the man realize we’re Catholic?”

“He came to stand witness, not preach. And he brought the mail.” Pru reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an envelope. She studied the address. “That’s a dismal name. Heartbreak Creek.”

Finally.
Snatching the letter from her sister’s grip, Edwina stuffed it into her skirt pocket. “I saw an advertisement for an employment opportunity and inquired about it, that’s all.”

“In Colorado Territory? Over a thousand miles away?”

To forestall further questions, Edwina nodded toward the door. “I think we’ve left the gentlemen waiting long enough. Show them in. I want this over with as soon as possible.”

Pru hesitated. “You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?”

“I’ll be fine. This is simply a formality.” Edwina forced a smile. “We knew Rose Hill was lost months ago. I’m just glad it’s going to our banker, rather than that Yankee scalawag tax man.”