Out of the Embers

Ten years after her parents were killed, Evelyn Radcliffe is once more homeless. The orphanage that was her refuge and later her workplace has burned to the ground, and only she and a young orphan girl have escaped. Convinced this must be related to her parents’ murders, Evelyn flees with the girl to Mesquite Springs in the Texas Hill Country and finds refuge in the home of Wyatt Clark, a talented horse rancher whose plans don’t include a family of his own.

At first, Evelyn is a distraction. But when it becomes clear that trouble has followed her to Mesquite Springs, she becomes a full-blown disruption. Can Wyatt keep her safe from the man who wants her dead? And will his own plans become collateral damage?

Suspenseful and sweetly romantic, Out of the Embers is the first in a new series that invites you to the Texas Hill Country in the 1850s, when the West was wild, the men were noble, and the women were strong.

Dear Laura,

You picked the worst time to be gone from Mesquite Springs. Oh, I know you like Charleston and that fancy finishing school, but you’re missing so many things here. It’s not even the end of the first month of 1856, but there’ve been so many changes that I sometimes wonder if I’m living in a different town.

It all started with a thunderstorm. Yes, a thunderstorm. You know how rare they are, so who would have thought that we’d have one and that Wyatt would be caught in it and that he’d find two orphans trying to take shelter under their wagon? It sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it, but that’s what happened.

Of course, Wyatt couldn’t leave the sisters there, could he? He brought them to the Circle C, and that’s when all the excitement started. The older one – her name is Evelyn – must be the best cook in the world, and little Polly is so cute that if Ma had her way, she’d never leave the ranch. In fact, Ma said both Evelyn and Polly should stay with us indefinitely.

I would have liked that, because Evelyn’s becoming a friend. She’ll never take your place, Laura – never think that – but it’s nice to have someone else who understands me. Unfortunately, Evelyn’s as stubborn as that brother of mine, and she’s determined to make her own way in the world. So, what do you think she’s done? She opened a restaurant.

Your father agreed to rent her the space the Fosters had.

Remember how it was always a bit dingy inside? Evelyn whitewashed the walls and made lighter curtains. You almost wouldn’t recognize it. And the food! She makes the most delicious pie anyone in Mesquite Springs has tasted. It’s oatmeal pecan, and though Ma asked for the recipe, Evelyn won’t give it to her or anyone. She says it’s a family secret. It’s so good that we almost had a fight break out when she ran out of it one day and two men were practically at fisticuffs over who should get the last slice. If you’re wondering what happened, Evelyn cut it in half and gave them each a piece.

Did you notice that I said “we”? That’s the second big change. Evelyn needed someone to help her in the restaurant, so I volunteered. I can picture your shock. It’s true that I don’t know anything about cooking, but I’m mostly taking orders and serving customers. So far, it’s much, much, much better than being on the ranch.

I always thought Wyatt would be the first to leave home, but that hasn’t happened. He hasn’t said anything, but I wonder if having Evelyn in Mesquite Springs is part of the reason. I’ve caught him watching her, and the way he looks at her reminds me of those silly romance novels you sent me last month. Do you suppose there might be wedding bells in his future?

The other big news is that Mayor McBride has decided not to run for mayor, and I’ve heard some people are trying to convince Wyatt he should be the next mayor. What do you think? Would he make a good mayor? I think so, but I’m hardly impartial, since I’m his sister.

I’ve reached the end of the page, so I’m going to stop for now. Oh, I wish you were here so we could talk. Letters are good, but they’re a poor substitute for being together. I miss you!

Your friend,
Dorothy