Angus’ Story #HistoricalWestern #WidowWagon #SpankingRomance 16

This is our first Six of the Best Sunday!  I’m sharing an excerpt today from my upcoming book affectionately called Angus and Clara for now 🙂  This is the back story for Angus–I swear it made me love him even more.  I didn’t anticipate the depth of this character until I wrote this chapter.  I hope you enjoy it!


Angus swore there was nothing more beautiful than the sky in Wyoming.  Blue as one of those small marbles he had in the bag in his pocket.  Not a cloud in the sky and in the distance the Granite Mountains could be seen.  It wouldn’t be long before they arrived in Independence Rock, another drop off.  Clara would be meeting her new husband.  He’d miss Clara and the kids.  Angus sighed.
It’d been a long time since he’d been able to play with children, enjoying their laughter and their antics.  He chuckled to himself, kids brought an enjoyment to life that some didn’t know.  Others, like himself, knew the joy and chaos that children brought to a home, and he also knew the void and heartbreaking pain upon their loss.   He swiped at the tears that sprung up unbidden—again.
It’d been three years this past winter that his wife and little girls died of influenza.  He’d never understand why God didn’t take him too, he’d cared for and nursed them all for weeks. His wife’s name had been Rose, just like Clara’s youngest.  She’d turned twenty seven that year she gave up the ghost.  Their girls were five and seven—Katherine and Priscilla. He’d nicknamed them Kat and Prissy.  Rose never cared for the nicknames wanting them to sound like elegant ladies of society. He’d told her that there’d be time enough for that while they were little he’d call them by these cute nicknames.
He’d spent hours on the floor with them in the evening.  Playing marbles, tickling, letting them jump on him and ride him like a horse—he missed the laughter and mayhem a busy house with young children brought.  His wife some days had been appalled that he rough housed with them “like boys—they’re girls Angus, not roughneck boys!”
He’d done his best to save them, and the doctor had told him so too.  He’d bathed them, sat up all night putting cold compresses on their heads, serving them broth,  and he’d even gone to town to get them the latest remedies.  Rose had been afraid that he’d catch it, and told him put a handkerchief over his face.”Angus, just worry about the girls.  I’m fine.  Idon’t need you fussin’ over me like a mother hen.” She scowled at  him but was so weak she couldn’t lift her head off the pillow.

I’ll share six more paragraphs next week!  Click on the links below to visit the other talented authors!  Happy Six of the Best Sunday!


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