Council Bluffs, Iowa--a city at the crossroads

 While researching my latest wagon train story, Jana, part of the 2024 Prairie Roses Collection, I wanted to use a different starting point for the westward journey. Several towns served the purpose of being the gathering spot for lots of pioneers who wanted to head for California, New Mexico, or Oregon. Those families or individuals arrived at these known locations and bought their final supplies while waiting for leaders to step forward and announce the formation of a company.

The history of this city is rich. Lewis and Clark met with the Otoe tribe near a riverside bluff in August 1804. The explorers named it Council Bluff because the location was where they held a council. In the 1830s, the location became a reservation for Chippewa, Ottawa, and Potawatomi Indians who were displaced from the Chicago area. The Potawatomi leader, Sauganash meaning “one who speaks English”, was also known by his English name, Billy Caldwell, and the Indian village was called Caldwell’s Camp.

Missionary Pierre-Jean DeSmet founded St. Joseph’s Mission in 1838-39 to minister to the tribes. He did what he could to protect the tribes from the illegal liquor trade while also helping surveyor Joseph Nicollet to create a map of the upper Midwest.

The first emigrant wagon train west departed in 1841 with a Great Migration of 1843 involving between 700 and 1,000 people. Every spring, wagons gathered in varying numbers to travel west through the late 1860s. The town grew because business owners saw the opportunity of steady customers needing items to make the journey across the country for the California and Pikes Peak gold rushes. Across the Missouri River lay the mostly uninhabited wilderness of the Missouri Territory. By 1853, a steam-powered ship ferried people, animals, and wagons of the pioneers across the river to Omaha in what would become Nebraska Territory in 1854.

Mormons, seeking land where they could practice their religion, arrived in the region in 1846, with permission from Washington DC arranged by Thomas Kane to occupy a portion of the Indian land. They named their settlement Kanesville and used it to supply travelers headed west to Utah. This town became the official start of the Mormon Trail. Most of the Mormons had headed west by 1852. The town’s name changed officially to Council Bluffs in the same year.

Not only did Council Bluffs enjoy a robust steamboat trade, the city was directly opposite the starting point for the Transcontinental Railroad with construction starting in 1868. The town, its population expanded from 2,011 in 1860 to 10,220 a decade later, served an important purpose in the development of America, as well as benefited from being at the edge of the frontier.

Rail lines ending in Council Bluffs

My novella, Jana, will soon be up on preorder.

Other wagon train stories in my backlist:

Prairie Rose Collection multi-author series

Cadi, book 11

Amity, book 21

Tilda, book 31

Reluctant Wagon Train Bride multi-author series

Lona

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The Legacies of Amelia Jenks Bloomer

 Amelia Jenks Bloomer (b. 1818-d.1894) held a strong belief that alcohol was evil. A governess job at the age of eighteen moved her to Seneca Falls, NY. After marrying law student David Bloomer in 1840, Amelia started volunteering at the local temperance society. Her social activism increased, and David encouraged her to write. She gained a column in the Seneca Falls County Courier, writing about women’s issues. Amelia attended the 1848 Seneca Falls Convention which focused on women’s rights. Although her name isn’t found among the sixty-eight female and thirty-two male signatures on the Declaration of Rights and Sentiments, she drew inspiration from the talks she heard and started a newspaper titled The Lily in 1849 with a strong temperance focus written by and for women. [The Declaration, principally written by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, was modeled on the Declaration of Independence and proclaimed the equal right of women in civil, social, political and religious matters.]

Courtesy of Wikipedia

Originally, a committee of women from the Temperance Society wrote articles for The Lily and distribution was to be handled by committee members. By 1850, Amelia’s name was the only one on the masthead. The newspaper changed to biweekly publication, expanding topics to women’s suffrage, expanding circulation to 4,000 subscribers. The Lily continued until 1854 under Amelia’s editorship until she sold it due to a move with David to Iowa. The buyer, Mary Birdsall, with the help of Dr. Mary F. Thomas, continued publication until 1859.

However, Amelia is not most remembered for her women’s newspaper or for leading women’s suffrage campaigns in Iowa and Nebraska or for being president of the Iowa Women Suffrage Association from 1871 to 1873. Along with a strong suffragist conviction came the belief that women should not be constrained in their clothing. In The Lily she advocated: “The costume of women should be suited to her wants and necessities. It should conduce at once to her health, comfort, and usefulness; and, while it should not fail also to conduce to her personal adornment, it should make that end of secondary importance.” Some of Amelia’s articles were picked up by The New York Tribune.

Amelia wearing bloomers, courtesy of Wikipedia

Ironically, Amelia did not first introduce the attire of loose-fitting trousers (we would call them harem pants) under a thigh- or knee-length tunic. The costume was first adopted by temperance activist Elizabeth Smith Miller. She showed it to her cousin, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who adopted it, and she in turn demonstrated it to Amelia, who started wearing it. Because Amelia wrote about the benefits of the less-restrictive clothing, the name “bloomers” became associated with her. Women wearing bloomers in public received almost constant verbal harassment. She’s also credited with being the person who introduced Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. In her quiet way, she was a lifelong supporter of women’s rights.

BLURB: Amity Grenville is set on reaching Oregon’s Sweet Home Valley, where her aunt and uncle have a farm. They were part of the Great Migration of 1843, and Amity saved every letter Aunt Beitris wrote, complete with advice on the journey preparations. Amity is eager for a fresh start, in the hopes that her husband, Garvey, will find a new vocation in farming and leave behind his drinking and gambling ways.

Newly finished with his apprenticeship, blacksmith Shawe Creighton can ply his trade just about anywhere so he agrees to throw in with his best friend’s family on the trek to Oregon. With no family ties, he heads west, thinking Oregon is as good as any place to establish a shop. Fun loving by nature, he’s also looking forward to what the adventure will bring.

In St Joseph doing last-minute preparations for the journey, Amity receives the bad news that Garvey was caught cheating and killed over a poker game. Now men are seeking to claim the wagon and team as their recompense. She barely removes her belongings in time but is faced with either marrying a stranger to comply with the wagon train’s rules or remain behind. Taking pity on her plight, Shawe offers marriage and is immediately faced with her two demands--no drinking or gambling. Intrigued by the outspoken woman, he figures the trip won’t be boring. Will a decision made in haste bring disaster, or will the journey forge bonds neither Amity nor Shawe can imagine?

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Places to find Linda Carroll-Bradd online

http://blog.lindacarroll-bradd.com

https://www.twitter.com/lcarrollbradd

https://www.facebook.com/linda.carrollbradd

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1806413.Linda_Carroll_Bradd

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/linda-carroll-bradd

https://www.amazon.com/author/lindacarroll-bradd

PIES FOR EVERY SEASON by Marisa Masterson

 The rich, spicy scent of pumpkin pie fills my kitchen every November. It's a pie that I have to make at least two of to satisfy the hungery eaters in my family. Since Thanksgiving is a holiday celebrating abundant harvest, eating pumpkins and making extra pies seems appropriate.

In the late summer and early fall, blackberries and apples are ripe. The perfect time to have berry pie (with cherries added into it). My family loves deep dish apple pie with Dutch crumb topping as well.

But what about summer? What pie represents that season?

Think lemon. The woman who created America's first cooking school, Elizabeth Goodfellow, gave us the ideal treat for summer. she invented the lemon meringue pie. Capturing the best of a glass of lemonade on a hot day, the pie is bright and has an airy topping. 

Goodfellow operated a pastry shop in Philadelphia. One of her signature desserts was a rich lemon pudding. Its recipe called for only egg yolks. Goodfellow poured the pudding into a crust and added the whipped whites after it cooled. In that way, she was able to use the entire egg.

One of her famous students, Eliza Leslie, popularized the meringue topping with her widely read 1847 cookbook. In The Lady's Receipt-Book: A Useful Companion For Large Or Small Families, Leslie advised women that a covering of meringue improved any baked pudding. (As the back of receipts were commonly used to write down recipes, the term receipt was widely used rather than our modern word.)

By the 1860s, this was one of the more common pies served at the White House. Abraham Lincoln loved the meringue topping and asked often for it. At the time, the pie was known by several names. Lemon cream pie and iced lemon pie being two of the more common names.

I've spent the summer thinking about lemon pie. It was the theme of a book I wrote in June and July. Two kinds of lemon pie: one with meringue and one that uses the whole egg in its filling. Light versus solid. 

The contrast is at the heart of my hero's problem. He wanted one woman, sweet and flirty, but ends up married to another, a serious, down-to-earth lady. Will he see past the fluff that attracts him to realize what he really needs in life?

Excerpt from Lemon Pie by Lucinda:

“It’s not a lemon pie. Where’s the meringue?”

“But, it’s not that kind of lemon pie. This is a lemon custard.”

Running his hands over his face, Ty groaned. “Not only did I get the wrong girl, but the pie’s all wrong.”

Lucy stilled her hands, not wanting to reach for the pie server. The sharpened point, used to pry out any reluctant crust, might tempt her to use it on her companion.

The one thing she could do right—bake—and he rejected it!

“Shall I put the pie away and ignore you? That way you won’t need to suffer with the wrong pie or the wrong girl.” Cold ice froze her sentence in the air between them.

Ty shook his head. “Nope. I want my dessert. Might as well eat what I bought.” He eyed the pie warily. “But why not a lemon meringue pie like everyone else makes?”

With determination, Lucy mentally shrugged away the urge to be angry. Could the man not hear how insulting he sounded? Why did she want to please him even after he said what he did?

“I guess my family’s different. Like I am, that is.” 

  

Available now for pre-order at Amazon.

Two ladies named Lucinda. I know—confusing, right? But the schemers in this story play on the fact that both are Lucinda.

One is Lucinda Kay. She hates the name and goes by Lucy. The other is Lucinda Kilbourne. Another Lucinda K.

If a person wasn’t listening closely, he could become confused. Wink! Wink!

Lucy never uses her real name. Reverend Caldwell surprises her when he calls her by that name at the pie auction. She's even more surprised when Ty Goodson bids on her pie. He's never shown her a bit of interest, and whoever wins her pie will have to share a lunch with her.

What follows is a series of misadventures and a night spent in a cave. That night alone with each other leads them into a forced marriage—a shotgun marriage with Ty’s father holding the gun.

How will Lucy win the love of a man who longs for a different Lucinda? And what about the thieves Ty and Lucy witnessed burying something? Will they return?

An Invention with Huge Impact—the Typewriter

In our modern age, we don’t spend much time thinking of how our lives are impacted by inventions--these days we call it new technology. In fact, some of us expect it and willingly buy the next phone upgrade. Not me—I hang onto stuff until the company no longer provides tech support and then even longer, as long as it’s still working. Case in point, I’m writing this post using a Word 2007 program.

But imagine how the lives of office workers changed following the invention and commercial production of the typewriter. Prior to the mid 1870s or early 1880s, all reports within a company were handwritten. So if you have clear and precise penmanship, your skill was prized and ensured your employment.

The first patent for a Machine for Transcribing Letters was issued in 1714 to inventor Henry Mill, but no evidence the machine was ever produced commercially exists.

For the next one hundred and fifty years, many attempts were made to develop a typing machine, most with the keys arranged like those on a piano. But no invention proved successful enough to develop it commercially.

photo by Peter Mitterhofer

In Denmark in 1865, Rev. Mailing-Hansen invented a writing ball. The keys on top pushed a short piston with the capital letter on the end down onto the paper below.

In 1868 a patent was issued to American Christopher Latham Sholes for a machine that produced capital letters only. Sholes worked with Carlos Glidden, Samuel Soule, and Frank Haven Hall. This machine was taller than it was wide, had individual keys that lifted metal bars with the letter engraved on the end to hit a ribbon that pressed against paper held by a platen. But a consistent problem was the keys jammed. The machine proved unwieldy and Sholes sold the patent. Another inventor, James Densmore, played around with the key placement to arrange them so frequent letter combinations would not jam the keys near the platen. Voila--the invention of the QWERTY keyboard that is still in use today.

Densmore contacted the Remington Arms Company (yes, the company who made guns) for assistance in manufacturing the machine improved from Sholes’ design and called it the Sholes-Glidden Type-writer. Commercial production started early in 1873.

The next innovation was called an index typewriter which used a stylus to choose a letter from an index. The letter would then be printed to paper by pulling a lever. These machines were simpler in their construction, lighter in weight, and were advertised for use by travelers. Another advantage was the ability to change the font style, a feature standard typewriters did not have.

By 1910, the typewriter was being produced by several manufacturers with only minor differences between the models.

The biggest advantage this machine brought to American society, where the main function was to transcribe handwritten material, was the ability for women to enter the workforce in large numbers.

My latest release, A Bride for Jordan, features one of those women with the ability to take shorthand and transcribe the notes via a typewriter.

BLURB: With a book deadline hanging over his head, Wyoming veterinarian Jordan Vardon needs a stenographer…fast. Tired of living where women have no legal rights, Senta Volney jumps at the chance to use her shorthand and typing skills to help a Wyoming man write a book. A marriage-of-convenience is essential for propriety’s sake. Can city girl Senta adapt to the country life? Will Jordan have the heart to end their in-name-only arrangement?

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I started my work career as a typist. I still own the Smith-Corona electric typewriter I bought for my first year in college, and I use it once a year for certain government forms. How many of you have experience with typewriters? 

A Bride for Abel: The Proxy Brides

Can a marriage by proxy change a man's world for the better?

Abel Roosevelt finds himself behind bars in Pistol Ridge for simply defending himself in a game of cards. He is given the ultimatum; marry the bride by proxy who was meant for the man that was killed.

Or, hang.

Kate Eisenhour's only choice is to marry by proxy. With no other options, she sets off to a new life in Montana Territory. Can Kate survive a marriage by proxy to a man she never met?

What about Abel? Can he convince Kate her uncle is not who she thinks he is?

This is a sweet historical romance, the fourth in a multi-author project releasing every two weeks. Each book is a stand-alone HEA romance. Here is the release order for The Proxy Bride Series:

A Bride for Jeremiah by Christine Sterling
A Bride for Clay by Marianne Spitzer
A Bride for Nathan by Barbara Goss
A Bride for Abel by Cyndi Raye
A Bride for Finn by Linda Ellen
A Bride for Carter by Wendy May Andrews
A Bride for Charles by H. L. Roberts
A Bride for Sterling by Parker J. Cole
A Bride for Henry by P. Creeden

You can pick up your copy A Bride for Abel here!

Blog Tour Tuesday--An Unlikely Marriage by Linda Carroll-Bradd

This week’s Blog Tour Tuesday features

An Unlikely Marriage by Linda Carroll-Bradd

Last week marked the release of An Unlikely Marriage, my second story in Debra Holland’s Montana Sky Kindle World. Secondary characters Torin and Nola from the first release, Laced By Love, are the protagonists in this novella. Not only did I get to view the wedding ceremony from a different viewpoint but I enjoyed delving into the relationship between the sisters. Instead of taking place in tiny Morgan’s Crossing, this story starts out with some familiar characters in Sweetwater Springs.

Blurb:

Helping injured cowboy Torin Quaid drive mustangs north provides a way for vaudevillian Nola York to earn a train ticket east—and get one step closer to her goal of auditioning for Buffalo Bill’s Wild West stage production. The temporary marriage is solely for propriety’s sake. Until disaster strikes, and the two must rely on each other—emotionally and physically—to safely reach Torin’s ranch. Will a marriage of convenience turn into more on a trail drive through Montana Territory?

Purchase Link:

Amazon:  https://amzn.com/B01J4R636Y

Excerpt:

Ten minutes later, all four adults stood in the show wagon’s middle aisle, and no one could move more than a few inches. Thankfully, the dogs were bedded down in their crates built under the cushioned settee that Cinnia claimed as her bed for the night.

Nola and Cinnia requested two minutes behind the sleeping area curtain to put on nightgowns. They wiggled and flopped like fish on a riverbank to slide off their petticoats, drawers, corsets, and chemises before slipping warm flannel gowns over their heads. Taking turns, they removed the pins from each other’s hair then plaited the lengths into single thick braids.

When she climbed down to put away her dress, Nola was careful to clutch the sides of her red gown close to her thighs. Wearing night clothes around males—no matter how sensible and opaque—sent an uncustomary flush to her cheeks. After opening the door, she glanced inside the tallest cupboard, normally filled to the brim with the special dresses of three performing women. The sight of the empty space was another reminder of tomorrow’s farewell. Her throat tightened. She draped the neckline of her rust-colored gown over the farthest wooden peg. Now all the dresses she owned could be unfolded from the storage drawers and hung in this cupboard.

From behind, a firm body bumped then steadied her. “Excuse me.”

The heat from Torin’s hand on her hip seeped through the single layer of flannel and branded her skin. Shaking her head at the nonsense of thinking he’d staked his claim, Nola held up her hands. “We’ve managed this before. What is the problem?” Her personal crisis was the thought of what would come in the next few minutes when she shared a mattress with her…uh, Torin. She couldn’t risk thinking of him as her husband—that would suggest a level of marriage they hadn’t agreed to.

Cinnia pointed between the two men. “They take up more space than you, me, and Dorrie did.” Moving behind Nic, she eased along the aisle to pull open a cupboard door and store her dress and underclothes. “Whatever clothes you men remove need to go into a cupboard. One of the secrets of living in harmony inside a wagon is tidiness.”

A deep groan sounded. Torin clapped his good hand over his heart and turned to look at her, brow wrinkled. “We’re doomed, my dear Nola, because I am a slob.”

“I’m not worried.” Nola scooted the dowels for the hammock to the edge. Then she flashed a smile over her shoulder as she climbed into the sleeping alcove. “I’m a great organizer.” Once on the mattress, she dove under the quilt and scooted to the far edge, near the hatch that led to the driver’s bench.

“Nic, grab the ends here. Nola says the dowels fit in grooves along the cupboard bottoms. This is your sleeping hammock.” With a grunt, Torin climbed up onto the bed and pulled the curtains closed. Silhouetted by lantern light, he curled his large body nearly in half to unfasten his outerwear. Mutterings accented each move, as using only one hand, he scooted his pants down his legs. A minute later, his jeans and shirt dropped to the floor with a thump.

At least, he’s wearing drawers and an undershirt. The pinch of unease loosened from her chest. She’d wondered if he was the type to wear a nightshirt. Since his mustang round-up involved sleeping along the trail, he probably had to be ready for anything as he bedded down each night. Nola breathed in the scent of the campfire clinging to their skin and hair. A scent she’d be experiencing over the next two weeks. Good thing, she liked outdoor smells.

Rustling and jostling noises came from the front of the wagon as the other two got settled in.

“Good night, Nic,” Cinnia whispered.

A whoosh sounded right before the lantern light disappeared. The moonlight filtering through the curtained window fell across their bed, making Nola aware of a much-bigger body occupying the other half, or two-thirds, of her mattress.

Too tall to fit the mattress length, Torin laid at an angle on his right side, facing the curtain. The quilt barely covered the top of his shoulder.

Probably the most comfortable position for his wrapped left wrist. His injury. Her thoughts stilled, and she bit back a gasp. In all the hustle of the wedding and setting up the camp, she’d forgotten to offer him willow bark tea. He’d had at least one cupful every morning and evening since they’d met. She levered herself up on an elbow, wondering if Torin was still awake and if she should offer to remedy the oversight.

A breathy snore was her answer.

One simple wifely duty, and she’d failed. An omission that boded ill for the next two weeks.

~~**~~

My first story in the Montana Sky Kindle World

About The Author:

After years spent in the administrative support field, Linda decided to exercise another part of her brain and write a novel. She loved reading romance and figured that’s what she’d write. Easier said than done. After years of workshops and RWA chapter meetings, she finally saw her manuscripts place in contests. Twelve years after her first writing class, she sold a confession story. From that point on, she couldn’t be stopped and is always pleased when her sweet-to-sensual contemporary and historical stories find homes.

With interests as widespread as baking, crocheting, watching dog agility matches, and reading thrillers by Swedish authors, Linda is the mother to 4 adult children and grandmother to 2 granddaughters. She currently lives in the southern California mountains with her husband of 37 years and their two much-loved dogs.

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