He tossed his shirt on a nearby chair, stretched his arms wide, and yawned. He didn’t bother to turn up the lamp on the night stand because the moonlight streaming in through the open window was sufficient for him to make out the contours of the furniture. He removed his boots in the foyer and tried not to make any noise as he crept up the stairs, went into his bedroom at the end of the hall, and began to undress. The house was as quiet as a church on Saturday night. There were more than fifty men and women in her church group alone, and every one of them was planning to attend the celebration.īy the time Adam had bedded down his horse and gotten a cool drink in the kitchen, it was well after midnight. Mama Rose had made a good number of friends since she’d taken up residence at the ranch a little over a year ago. Most of the town of Blue Belle was invited to the shindig, along with twenty or thirty people from as far away as Hammond. He knew the house was packed to capacity, for next weekend was Mama Rose’s birthday, and his brothers and sister had all agreed to come back to the homestead early to help with the preparations.

He wanted clean sheets and a soft mattress underneath him. He hadn’t planned to return to the ranch until Friday, but his business was finished, and he was sick and tired of sleeping outdoors. Thomas Hood (1798–1845) One Rosehill Ranch, Montana Valley, Spring, 1881Īdam Clayborne surprised his family by coming home in the dead of night two days earlier than expected.

The clayborne brides by julie garwood