by Tamera Alexander
Take a trip back to the Old West—and meet some people with very modern problems.
Determined to tame her younger brother’s rebellious streak, McKenna Ashford accepts her cousin’s invitation to move west and to begin again. But she quickly discovers that life in Copper Creek, Colorado is far from what she expected. Shouldering burdens beyond her years, McKenna tries to be the parent Robert needs, instead of the older sister he resents. But an “untimely inheritance” challenges her resolve at every turn, while also offering a second chance to restore her trust—and perhaps even her heart.
U.S. Marshal Wyatt Caradon is dedicated to bringing fugitives to justice, yet years of living on the trail have taken their toll. When his path intersects with that of McKenna, he comes face-to-face with a past he never wanted to relive—and the one woman who can help him find the future he’s been longing for.
As McKenna struggles to let go of her independence and Wyatt considers opening his heart again, they discover an inheritance beyond imagination.
But it will come at a price.
Excerpt
Copper Creek, Colorado, Rocky Mountains
Tuesday, June 5, 1877
McKenna Atchison climbed down from the wagon and surveyed the not-so-quaint-looking community of Copper Creek. The mountain town was rougher than she’d envisioned from her cousin Janie’s descriptions in her letters. More rustic with its clapboard buildings, some slightly leaning and arthritic in appearance, their cracked paned windows staring out like empty bloodshot eyes on unsuspecting passersby.
With the sun beating down overhead, McKenna held firm to the belief that she’d made the right decision in coming west—as if her younger brother’s behavior back in Missouri had given her a choice.
Staring up at Robert seated on the wagon bench, she read familiar disdain in his smirk. “All I’m asking, Robert, is that you take the wagon and go on to Vince and Janie’s so they’ll know we’ve arrived.” She worked to keep the frustration from her tone, and failed. “It’s only a half mile or so from town.” She gestured to the envelope on the bench seat beside him. “The directions are in her letter. I’ll meet you there shortly.”
Robert didn’t move. “I don’t see why I can’t go on with you to the livery.” He gave the letter a cursory glance. “I’ve never even met these people.”
“Yes, you have. I’ve told you—” She caught herself, realizing it was no use, considering the stubborn set of his jaw. “You don’t remember them because you were too young. But they’ll remember you.” In appearance, her brother was almost a man, even though he was only fourteen, nine years her junior. “Though they won’t recognize you, that’s for certain. Now please…” She exhaled. “Just do as I’ve asked… I’ll work out the details with the livery owner and join you shortly.”
Using more force than necessary, Robert released the brake on the wagon. “You’re probably right, sis. It’s best you go instead of me. We both know you’re the one he’s hired anyway. Whether he knows it yet or not.” He gave the reins a hard whip.
The wagon jolted forward and McKenna jumped back, the wheel narrowly missing her boot. Her patience threadbare, she watched him go. How could she love that boy so much and still feel such anger against him?
Seeing Robert’s natural ability in the way he managed the heavy rig, she felt a familiar touch of envy. There wasn’t a rig he couldn’t handle, or build, for that matter. No matter the size. Saddlery equipment and supplies they’d brought from home weighed down the wagon bed—tools of their father’s trade she hadn’t been able to part with. No matter how destitute their father’s untimely passing had left them. In so many ways…
Wagons cluttered the main thoroughfare but Robert maneuvered his way around them without a hitch. McKenna held her breath as he cut close corners on two freighters—twice. Intentionally, no doubt, judging by the smart tip of his hat to the drivers as he passed. Each driver threw him a dark look and both were large enough to break Robert in two. Not an easy task with her brother’s broad build.
Her eyes narrowed, part of her praying Robert wouldn’t do anything to further provoke the men, while the rest of her wondered if a good thrashing might do him some good. Her own hand at disciplining him had never been a strong one, but then again she hadn’t sought the role of mother that God had thrust upon her at such a young age. Please don’t let him do here what he did back home. This move was their chance to start over again, and they wouldn’t get another one. She couldn’t afford for this attempt at a fresh beginning to fail.
A surprisingly cool breeze swept down from the mountains and granted reprieve from the heat. The air here—she took a deep breath and her lungs tingled with the cool—tasted like God had breathed it fresh from heaven’s storehouse that very morning.
Structures made of hand hewn pine dotted the main road, closely spaced, as though still huddled together from the harsh winter Janie had given account of in a previous missive. And yet, already, McKenna had a liking for this place, preferring it to the bigger city feel of Saint Joseph that she and Robert had left behind.
She arched her back and stretched the taut muscles in her shoulders and neck, weary from the two-week journey west and from today’s travel from Denver. Lengthy hours spent alone with Robert in the wagon had been made more so by his sullen sighs. Wordless, he’d guided the rig over steep mountain passes still patchy with snow, each flagging mile bearing some mark of his repeated desire not to be here.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she grasped her skirt with one hand and made for the boardwalk, avoiding numerous deposits left from animals that had passed that way earlier. People occupying the planked walkway and those milling inside the entry to the mercantile nodded when their eyes met hers.
She returned their smiles when offered. Perhaps she truly could start over in this place. Where no one knew about their past, about what had happened.
Seeing a kindly looking man standing nearby, she approached him and inquired about directions to the livery.
“Which one, ma’am? We got us three.”
Three? She hoped Janie’s advice about which livery to contact had been sound. She needed the livery that would provide the most business for her and Robert. After the cost of traveling here, their funds were nearly depleted. “I’m referring to the livery owned by a Mr. Casey Trenton.”
He pointed. “Trenton’s place is on the other side of town, toward the mining camps.” The man—short of stature but with a wealth of girth about his waist to compensate—pursed his lips and eyed her up and down with improper leisure. “You just get off the stage, miss?”
McKenna caught the hint of onions on his breath, and something untoward in his manner. “Thank you for your assistance.” She moved past him down the uneven walkway, ignoring his repeated attempt to pursue the conversation.
She headed in the direction he’d indicated, discreetly glancing behind her to make sure he wasn’t following. He was, but only with his eyes. She took the nearest side street. For all their boast and swagger, men were an easily read gender consisting of too few chapters and all too common a subject.
It felt good to walk and she was eager to get her business conducted with Mr. Trenton, the livery owner, and find her way out to Vince and Janie’s before sunset. Which might be sooner than she expected with Copper Creek being nestled so close between the mountains. A supply depot to nearby mining towns is what Janie had called Copper Creek, which McKenna hoped boded well for the use of her and Robert’s talents.
It would be good to see Janie again after all these years, Vince too. Janie was a cousin by blood, but a sister in heart. The sister McKenna had always wanted. Janie could well have had their second baby by now. She was due any day. The last letter McKenna had received had been dated two months ago, but spring was a busy time on a new ranch, not to mention when one had a five year old running underfoot. How well she remembered Robert at that age.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” A young woman smiled as she passed on the boardwalk, a little boy situated on one hip and a slightly older one holding on to her skirt, trailing behind.
“Good day.” McKenna grinned seeing the little boy’s short legs pumping to keep up, his smile saying he was enjoying the challenge. Robert had beamed that very same way as a toddler, clutching her skirt as they headed to the mercantile together. As the memories rose, her smile waned. All that seemed like another lifetime now.
She lifted her gaze to where the sun crept steadily toward the snowcapped peaks, lustering the mountains a burnished gold. A deepening certainty settled inside her about Copper Creek, and about her decision to move west. She’d prayed long and hard about it, spending many sleepless nights until finally…she’d felt a nudge inside. Or she’d thought she felt it.
Some days, admittedly, she wondered if she’d only been grasping at the last proverbial straw. Either way, they were here.
She peered into shop windows as she passed—a women’s clothier and a cobbler’s shop, and a bakery where the door stood propped open. The aroma of freshly baked bread and something else sweet drifted through the portal and caused her pace to slow. Cooking was a talent she possessed in fair amount but baking was not. As a young boy, Robert had let her know with no uncertainty that her leftover biscuits made excellent fodder for his sling shot. And he’d been right.
But a woman couldn’t be good at everything. Best to learn early on what your strengths were and make the most of them. She’d been forced to learn hers early enough, her weaknesses too, which were plenty. She reached the end of the boardwalk and stepped down to the street. Some people might say she’d been forced to learn them at too young an age…
Excerpted from The Inheritance © 2009 by Tamera Alexander. Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
Interview
WOF:
Welcome to the Women of Faith Book Club! Since this is your first appearance, tell us a little about yourself.
TAMERA:
Well, I am southern born and bred but did live in Colorado for 17 years. That’s where the love of my books and writing about Colorado Territory came from. I’m finishing up my seventh book right now with Colorado Territory as the backdrop.
In 1995, my mother-in-law, Claudette Alexander, gave me a book and said, “Tammy, I think you’ll love this.” I kind of looked at the cover and I thought, thank you so much for this but didn’t have any intention of reading it. Claudette died very suddenly of a brain aneurysm about two months later. About four months after her passing I was downstairs cleaning my bookshelf and ran across this little volume ofLove Comes Softly by Janette Oke. I sat down and read it. It was what we would term a “simple little love story” but it showed me a side of God’s unconditional love that touched me in such a deep way.
At that point I tried to get my hands on every bit of Christian fiction I could find. Of course, back in 1995 there’s wasn’t nearly as much in the Christian fiction genre as there is today, so I quickly exhausted that. My husband and I were on a trip and I tossed a novel in the back seat and—just kidding—said, “I think I could write one of those.” He said, “Well, why don’t you?” We’ve always been a little bit competitive, so I thought, Well, OK!
I set out having absolutely no clue. I wrote from 10 pm at night until 2 am in the morning. I finally finished a novel and sent it in, and it was promptly rejected. (Actually, we did go through three rewrites on that novel, so I can’t say “promptly” rejected.) I thought, well, it got that far. What if I really tried to learn how to write a novel? So for the next year and a half I dissected my favorite novels. I looked at all the publishers and pinpointed the two or three that were publishing the main bulk of historical novels at that time. I wrote another novel, Rekindled, which was my first published novel. Then they offered me another three-book contract, another three, and I recently signed a six-book contract.
But Women of Faith called in the fall of 2008. My agent called and said, “Women of Faith wants you to write the first historical for their line.” I was like, “Oh, that’s fantastic!” and she said, “And they want it by such-and-such a date.” And I said, “Oh, there is absolutely no way!”
She said, “Do you have anything… like a story that you’ve written before?” I was like, “I’ve got this one that was my first novel that was rejected.” She said, “Why don’t you look at that?”
This is something I tell to writers’ groups: never underestimate what God is going to do with a rejected manuscript. I truly believe that God knew back then that this time would come and He would open this opportunity for me. I wouldn’t have been ready if I hadn’t already had that story living within me. So I wrote a quick synopsis for the story, sent it in to Thomas Nelson/Women of Faith and they called me the very next morning and said, “Done! We want it.”
It was so fabulous to go revisit those characters again and revisit that story. It was a real faith-building time for me; I was reminded yet again that there are certain moments in life when God nudges you to remind you of the master plan in life. That was one of those moments for me.
That was a very long answer about writing and about me! I’m married; we’re celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary this December. We’ve got a daughter who’s just graduated from college and a son who’s a junior in college. This is a fabulous stage of life.
WOF:
Of all the types of books you could write, why historical romances? Was it because you started with Janette Oke?
TAMERA:
Really it goes back farther. History has always been a love of mine. The romance, I guess you have to say I’m more of a romantic at heart. But also I love the fact that God, since the beginning of our time, is a pursuer. He truly pursues us. It’s not just that he throws salvation out there and says, “It’s here. It’s a free gift. Take it if you want it.” He actually pursues us. He’s eager, not just willing, to offer forgiveness.
That’s something I always weave into my books. Yes, there’s always the hero and the heroine who are on their journey together, but separately and apart they are also on their journey of taking a step toward Christ as well. To me, as a storyteller, that is at least as important if not more so than the actual romance itself. Only in coming closer to Him does their relationship, their romance relationship, actually have foundation.
WOF:
Your characters are so multi-layered; they feel like real people. How do you go about creating them?
TAMERA:
The characters really start taking shape for me months and months before I start writing. A lot of times they’ll come through snippets of history. My characters form out of the history of that era and the norms and what was expected of that era. But the women so oftentimes (which makes for good novels) are women with a twist. They’re a little bit ahead of their time.
I have to know the character. I have to know what they fear; I have to know what they like. For me, the pivotal thing is a moment in each of my character’s lives when everything changed for them. It’s that defining moment. It may not even be in the book, it’s just something I know.
WOF:
McKenna is a saddle maker. That’s a different profession, especially for a woman of that era. How did you go about learning the ins and outs of making saddles?
TAMERA:
Lots of reading! When I lived in Colorado there was a stable near us. Even though the gentleman there did not make saddles, I went there and learned about them. History books also give great examples of the types of saddles that people in different parts of the country used. Just because a woman in Baltimore in 1870 rode sidesaddle doesn’t necessarily mean a woman would ride sidesaddle in Colorado Territory in the mountains. (She probably wouldn’t, she’d fall off and break her neck!)
McKenna was a saddle maker and that was such a wonderful character trait for her. That’s actually so much of who she was. Once I found that out about her, that’s really what shaped so much of her personality. You would have to be, not so much rebellious, but you would have to be pretty strong in yourself to a certain degree. Her father taught her the trade but never expected she would be that, he wanted her to be something else and for the brother to inherit that. But God just gave her a giftedness at that. In writing her, it was a real freeing thing to see her grow into her own.
WOF:
Mei Ling and her family are such interesting people. What prompted you to create them and add them to the story?
TAMERA:
Mei Ling was not an original part of that story, actually. As God would have it, I had just finished reading a book called Chinese Americans. It was a fabulous history book on Chinese Americans in American history. I read how they came into the Colorado Territory and were largely responsible for building the train tracks across America, and they were so involved in the mining, and made such strides for this country and yet were so poorly recognized for their contributions.
When I looked at McKenna and looked at the story as a whole, I thought I need what we would term a “reflective” character. (Like Donkey for Shrek.) Having read that book, with the Chinese culture of that time and their wonderful honor of their families. I thought that would be a fabulous match for McKenna, who struggles with her family, who never had a great relationship with her father, and lost her mother at a very young age. Mei Ling just walked on and was a beautiful character. I would actually love to continue her story sometime down the line.
WOF:
Wyatt’s prayer for Robert is “Break him, Lord, until he’s wholly yours.” Every character in the book needs to be “broken” in some way, don’t they?
TAMERA:
Absolutely! Just like we do in our walk with Christ. That was a prayer that was very special to me. Some of Robert’s rebelliousness—and I can say this because I’ve gotten my son’s permission—some of those scenes are taken directly from arguments and issues we’d had with our son. He’s doing great now; God’s done an amazing turn-around in his life.
That’s what I prayed, even at a very young age for myself, Break me, Lord. That is what I prayed for my kids, that God would do anything He needs to do in their lives and in mine to make sure to cement that relationship with Him.
WOF:
On a lighter note, McKenna’s baking “issues” run throughout the story. Was that to make her a more rounded character, or were you really trying to work out some inner baking issues of your own?
TAMERA:
Actually, I am a very good baker. Do I enjoy cooking? Not really. But I love baking. No, that was something for her. Actually Deborah Raney (my writing partner) said, “Oh come on, can’t she learn how to cook?” I thought a minute and said, “No. Huh-uh. That ties everything up perfectly.”
I’ve never been athletically prone. In the 8th grade I was the last one chosen for basketball and I thought, OK, I’m going to do my best. I finally made a basket and I was thrilled! Wrong basket. I can practice as much as I want to but there are some things I am just destined not to do well. So when it came to Kenny baking bread and learning, I though, Um…no, she doesn’t learn that. Wyatt makes biscuits really well, anyway.
WOF:
Well, really, only one of them needs to know how, right?
TAMERA:
Exactly. They won’t starve.
WOF:
Do you ever get “stuck” in the middle of a story?
TAMERA:
Oh gracious, yes.
WOF:
How do you get unstuck?
TAMERA:
Sometimes it just takes pushing through. Sometimes, literally, I’ll go for a walk, leaving the “scene of the crime” as it were, getting up and physically getting away from it. Anything for about 20 or 30 minutes, just to get out of it. Nine times out of ten that will jostle it and jog something loose. Used to, I would make myself sit here like a child. “You are not getting up until you finish this.” Finally, I learned that does not work very well. I do have to set a timer, because I could easily take four hours! I’ve found myself cleaning toilets or the air vent—anything not to have to come back and face this wicked, blinking cursor.
WOF:
Any last words you’d like to share?
TAMERA:
Thank you so much for making The Inheritance part of the Book Club. That’s just so cool to me! If any readers have stories about that prayer “Break me, Lord, until I’m wholly yours” and how God is using that in their lives (or has used it) that is so encouraging for me.
I’m so thankful to be part of the Women of Faith Fiction line, that’s something I never saw coming. Women of Faith has been such an inspiration for me; I’ve seen so many women’s lives touched. I’m just thrilled to be linked in a tiny way with the Women of Faith.
Call the Author!
If your book club is interested in a conference call with Tamera to discuss The Inheritance at your next gathering, visit her Web page (tameraalexander.com) and drop her an email to make arrangements.
Comments
what a improbable submit, wow.