Exclusive Report by L. L. Tuthill
The Tattler recommends this not be shared with the young – male or female – lest they become intrigued by what goes on across the Atlantic.
The Tattler has received the clip below from an unnamed source – a London woman far too refined and too aghast at her American cousin’s boldness, to divulge her own identity. Even we at The Tattler share this brazen Western impression of marriage hesitantly, thankful that women such as Mrs. R. Howard are far removed from our own shores where the fairer sex knows how to conduct herself properly.
Wanted: Husband to co-own a ranch immediately. Purely business arrangement, and will be well compensated. Able to take orders. Contact Mrs. R. Howard, Liberal, Kansas.
Our source was nearly too faint to fill in any details, but with gentle coaxing and a substantial amount of liquid sustenance, we were able to learn Mrs. Howard is a recent widow. So recent her ad is that much more indecent. It is understood that at Mrs. Howard’s husband’s funeral she was already planning her next marriage, speaking with the clergyman who officiated her husband’s service before the grave was even closed.
Appalled enough that our reporter had to seek liquid sustenance himself, he was able to further learn that even though Mrs. Howard claimed ridiculous laws that didn’t allow women to own property as her sole reason for seeking a new man, she had been seen in immodest clothing also, suggesting possible darker motives. The new widow was equally quick to switch from dresses to men’s apparel – claiming it more suitable to working the ranch she intended to keep – but not just any man’s, she chose her deceased husband’s to wear.
When asked if our source’s cousin was able to land a man, her reply was, “She’s a blazing redhead. What do you think?”
We think she did. And we set out to prove it. Contacting a Mr. Greene, the local postal person in Liberal, Kansas, we learned Mrs. Howard did indeed reel in a man. A tall, handsome, dark-haired cowboy she let stay at her place without any announcement of marriage. Ben Miller supposedly slept under the stars and at times in her barn’s loft, but Mr. Greene speculated things might have changed when Mr. Miller bought her some real dungarees one day. Boy’s size that fit her right nice.
At the time of this printing we can say Mrs. Howard…Mrs. Miller, maybe…might be reaping what she’s sown. We’ve heard there are plenty of fireworks on her ranch – an unhappy ranch manager who claims he would have been happy to help her hold onto her land, a banker who is reluctant to let go of a deed to a stranger like Ben, and a son who received no warning his mother’s plan to save the ranch involved a new stepfather.
All we can say, is God save our Queen, and God help poor Mrs. Howard
About the Book
Neither Rex nor Regina wants a spouse, but they do have needs.
Ranger Rex Duncan needs a false identity—just long enough to uncover a ring of Kansas ranch thieves. Answering Regina’s ad for a temporary husband, he leaves his beloved red dirt of Oklahoma to assume that disguise. But the most obstinate woman he’s ever known confounds his assignment, and with hair the red color that has always made his heart beat a little faster.
Regina Howard needs a new Mrs. in front of her name—just long enough to reclaim her deceased husband’s ranch, since Kansas law won’t allow women to own property. When Rex answers her ad for a husband who can take orders as part of a brief business arrangement, she finds this stubborn man ignores her every command. Yet a good man is far more than just a name…
Buy Link: http://amzn.to/2qj7DE2
Ben was tall, and he felt even taller as he took a step closer and leaned my way. “It takes two to bind a contract, and since I’ve just withdrawn, your arrangement is null and void. And just so you know, you can thank your lucky stars I’m not staying to marry you, because I take surprises a lot better than I take orders.” His eyes stayed on mine until his gaze traveled from my face down to my boots. “And wearing trousers doesn’t make you any more suited to giving orders than wearing a skirt would make me fit for giving birth.”
My nails dug into my palms as I rolled my hands into fists. A word I’d heard Ted say when a pail slid off his bad arm came to mind. The word was immoral, but probably not too immoral for Ben Miller. “Just so you know, Mr. Miller, I’ve been running this ranch for three weeks now, in pants. I find skirts get in the way of things you’d probably be surprised I can do.”
The half-smile returned. “I won’t argue that. Skirts surely do get in the way.” Ben straightened and slapped his hat tighter on his head. “Been my experience, too.
Fortunately, neither one of us has to put up with one, since you can keep right on doing things the way you have been. I’m giving you an early parting. I’m leaving.”
About the Author
Born and raised in the Midwest, Colleen earned a four-year degree in Medical Technology and used it to travel and explore other parts of the country while working in the field of science.
Outside the laboratory she delves deeply into literature, both reading and writing, her interest piqued by tales involving moral dilemmas and the choices people come up against.
A lover of the outdoors as well as a comfy living room, Colleen is always searching inside and out for the next good story.
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