Read Online Brighter Tomorrows by Beverly Wells - Free Book Online

her crazy writing world) and her devoted walking buddy, Jamie, a rescued black lab mix, but to have a wonderful and loving son, daughter-in law and two fantastic granddaughters plus oodles of treasured friends. She enjoys all lake activity, Nascar, volunteering at the local shelter, flower gardening( so she can get her hands good and dirty) and cooking for gathered friends. 
    For more information regarding Bev, visit her at Prairie Rose Publications author page , her website @ www.beverlywellsauthor.com , FB , twitter, blog @beverlywellsauthor.wordpress.com or gmail her @ [email protected] She’d love to hear from you.

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A LOVE SO STRONG
    A Mail Order Bride Novel
    (Originally published as Only When the Loon Sings)
     
    EXCERPT
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
    Washington Territory, 1880
    “Where are you, Luke Kincaid?” Morgan Prescott hissed through clenched teeth. “If you order a mail order bride, you should be here to meet her.”
    Morgan’s ire was so festered from stewing over her future husband’s long-delayed arrival she was surprised her hair hadn’t smoldered by now. Her backside prickled unmercifully, and she squirmed for the hundredth time on the hard bench outside the weathered general store. Stretching her back, she flexed her shoulders and ground the tip of her high-laced black shoes into the dirt. All failed to release her frustration.
    Nearly every man in this logging town had praised Luke Kincaid up and down for his exemplary leadership, backbreaking hard work, and infinite wisdom. Well, if he possessed all they claimed—it seemed mighty hard to believe from her standpoint—the paragon definitely lacked being punctual or considerate.
    “And my tongue will tell you as much, Mr. Not-So-Perfect,” she vowed to the waning sunlight, as if it might agree. By God, she’d give him a lashing when the rude man showed his face. How embarrassing to be so blatantly neglected!
    For the first hour or so, she and the women she’d befriended on the ship had chatted while the men sorted through the list of names. Once each had staked his claim, so to speak, he rushed his bride-to-be into the saloon to become better acquainted. Most would have the traveling preacher tie the knot tonight, Morgan figured.
    And here she sat. Alone, discouraged, uncomfortable. Darn well offended. A loud creak rent the air as the saloon door opened, its harsh sound readily drowned out by the boisterous laughter from within.
    “Ho, there, Missy,” Hans called, stepping past the doorway, not thirty feet away. “Ya sure ya won’t come inside, have something ta warm yur innards? It’s turnin’ a mite chilly out. Never thought Luke would be this long.”
    Morgan returned the smile of the blond, bearded Swede who insisted on calling her Missy. She found his Swedish accent mingled with Western twang quite pleasant. He was a bear of a man, six foot or so of barreled chest, thick muscled arms, and broad shoulders that barely fit through a doorway, yet friendly, outgoing, and carefree.
    “Thank you, Mr. Svenson,” she called, raising her voice over the cacophony from inside. “But I’m fine. I’m sure Mr. Kincaid will arrive soon.” She glanced at the sun as it set a notch lower. With each passing minute, the chill rose. At least her rising temper kept her blood bubbling.
    “We won’t be havin’ any of that, now.” He closed the door, muffling the voices and music, and strode to her side. “I told ya we go by first names here. We’re like one happy family. Town’s too small to do otherwise.” His smile sent a twinkle to his eyes.
    For one brief moment, Morgan thought of her family, the note she’d left on her bed. Were they distraught? She felt so unsure of herself in this ramshackle logging town, and she’d not seen much of it, so far. Of course, there wasn’t much to see. Just a vast wilderness—predominantly trees reaching halfway to the sky—far more remote than she’d expected. She felt no regret for her decision.