The Rancher Takes A Wife By Leslea Tash
Series: Montana Brides # 1
Published May 2, 2014
Chastity Lilly is no flapper. In 1920s New York, she's determined to find a career as a teacher so she can support her family upstate. But one thing leads to another, and the company she keeps in the big city leads her down a very different path than the one she sought.
When she helps a handsome rancher in town looking for his own errant sister, can she turn her act around? Will she take his offer of a teaching position in Wedlock, Montana and make a brand new start? And if she does, can she--and the rancher--leave the past behind to forge a new future together?
Not if the rancher's sister has her way.
This is a sweet historical Western romance. There are no PG-13 or R-rated scenes.
Leslea Tash is a journalist-turned-novelist, an avid bird nerd and the happily married mom of four. She has been a professional writer for many years. This is her first romance novel.
I tried to free myself, but he wouldn’t let go. “Mr. Ward, I should like to excuse myself now, I think. I’m so sorry for troubling you, and for not saying goodbye before I left, but I must get home.”
Carl didn’t answer. He pulled me onward, deeper into the hotel. We walked down a busy hallway—quieter than the lobby, but still full of people—until we came to a grand ballroom, its doors thrown open as catering staff arranged tables and chairs. A quartet of string musicians warmed up in the corner.
“Mr. Ward…” I began to protest, but then the golden light of the dozen glowing chandeliers caught my eye, and I was swept up in the magic that was the Plaza Grand Ballroom. Before I could finish my thought, the rancher swept me into his arms. I thought I heard members of the quartet chuckling, but they began to play in earnest as Mr. Ward began to waltz me around the room.
“Mr. Ward!” I protested.
“Carl,” he said. His eyes were tired and his voice husky, but his tone was sweet. “We agreed we’d call one another by our Christian names, remember?” As he twirled me around the dance floor I felt the fatigue leave my body, replaced by the unfamiliar tingling again that I had felt when he touched me earlier in the room.
“Carl,” I said more softly than before, “what are you doing?” Although my words were terse, I could feel my smile giving my feelings away.
“Well, Miss Chastity, I do believe it’s called ‘dancing.’ Ever given it a try?”