The Comanchero’s Bride by Kaye Spencer – January #blogabookscene #westernromance #PrairieRosePub @PrairieRosePub – Kaye Spencer

Blog-a-Book-Scene is a monthly themed blogging endeavor from a group of authors who love to share excerpts from their stories. Find us on Twitter with the hashtag #blogabookscene and #PrairieRosePub.

January’s theme is Baby, It’s cold outside. This first cold wintry excerpt below is from my western romance novel, The Comanchero’s Bride.

A powerful politician intends to marry Elizabeth, but can he match the fast gun who holds her heart and future in his hands?

EXCERPT

Mingo knew the land as well as he understood the way of prairie snowstorms. While harsh, this one lacked the fierce onslaught of a blizzard and would blow itself out, leaving little snow on the open range to show for all its fury. With the ebb and rise of the wind and snow, he was able to keep himself oriented relative to his destination due to the occasional clearing overhead that allowed a glimpse of stars or a familiar landmark. Always, though, he trusted his instincts to keep their path true.

He turned often in his saddle to check on Isabel. When she noticed, she waved to let him know she was all right. She rode without complaint, and he caught himself wishing again for an easier route home. He let it go as wasted effort. This is the way of it. We are together, and Beal does not know where we are.

He brought Isabel’s horse up beside him and leaned toward her, shouting above the wind, “We will rest soon. Do you need to walk and warm up?”

“No.” She motioned him on.

He suspected again she was lying for his benefit. Time passed, but with no meaning. Only the wind and snow existed. The cold was so deep in his bones when they arrived at the dugout, he didn’t think he could move, but attaining shelter from the storm compelled him into action, and he forced his numb body into motion, his sluggish brain into simple planning.

Get Isabel inside. Build a fire. Take care of the horses.

His poncho, frozen and stiff, hampered his movements, and he couldn’t feel his toes when he put his full weight in the stirrups to swing down. When his foot touched the ground, his legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. Struggling to bend his fingers, he made several failed grabs before his hands connected with the stirrup, and he pulled himself up.

With labored steps, he made it to Isabel’s side where she sat her horse, her head hanging and her shoulders hunched against the cold. “Isabel!”

He tugged her coat sleeve, but she didn’t respond. He tugged harder, and she slid off the saddle. Although he caught her, he couldn’t hold her, and they tumbled backward into the snow.

“We have to go inside.” He fumbled to lift her, but his hands were like chunks of ice. He managed to sit her up, and when he lifted her chin and let go, her head lolled forward.

Shaking her roughly, he ordered, “Isabel! Get up! You will freeze. I cannot carry you. You have to walk.”

The Comanchero’s Bride is available on Amazon.

Print | Digital | KindleUnlimited

This dugout is similar to the one in which Mingo and Isabel found refuge from the blizzard.