The Commander
June 1895, Calgary, Alberta
Even after all these years, at the mere mention of his name, Julia O'Shea still felt the urge to slap his face.
On the day the memories of Ryan Reid came flooding back to her, Julia was working in her print shop, racing to meet her noon deadline. With an hour left, she was organizing stacks of freshly printed newspapers while her reporter worked the cylindrical press. Two of her distributors walked in. Julia smiled in greeting, but from their dampened expressions, she knew their news wasn't good.
"Business is slow at the mercantile," old Mr. Rossman whispered in shame. He pushed a pile of clean rags across the counter. "The drought's affected a lot of ranchers and no one's buyin' much of anything. Can I pay you with rags again?"
Julia ran a finger beneath her sticky velvet choker. She'd lost five pounds in the past month from working so strenuously, and her loose gray skirt dragged along the floor.
She glanced at the gent's worn shirt, elbows patched ten times over. Why, he was no better off than she was, and he had three children to feed compared to her one. "No need to fret, sir. Thank ... read full excerpt from The Commander ebook
