For the past two days, I’ve been introducing you to my newest heroine and now we meet her hero, Noah Whitmore. Here’s a blurb about the book and then the story begins!

Their Frontier Family Excerpt

First book in Lyn Cote’s NEW “Wilderness Brides” series.

Blurb:
No one is more surprised than Sunny Licht when Noah Whitmore proposes. She’s a scarlet woman and an unwed mother—an outcast even in her small Quaker m community. But she can’t resist Noah’s offer of a fresh start in a place where her scandalous past is unknown.
In Sunny, the former Union soldier sees a woman whose loneliness matches his own . When they arrive in Wisconsin, he’ll see that she and her baby daughter want for nothin g…except the love that war burned out of him. Yet Sunny makes him hope once more—for the home they’re building, and the family he never hoped to find.

Chapter One
Pennsylvania, 1869
“Harlot.”
Sunny heard the harsh whisper across the nearly empty General Store, knowing she was meant to hear it. Her heart clenched so tightly that she thought she might pass out. Two women at the door looked at her, lifted their noses, then turned and left the store, rudely jangling the little bell above.
She bowed her head, praying that she wouldn’t reveal the waves of shame coursing through her. Though she wore the plain clothing of the Quakers, a simple unruffled gray dress and bonnet, she hadn’t fooled anyone.

A male throat cleared. The storekeeper wanted her out. Could she blame him? While she shopped here, no “decent” woman would enter. She set down the bolt of blue calico she’d been admiring, hiding the trembling of her hands.
Feeling as if she were moving through a cold, rushing flood, she moved toward the storekeeper. “I think that will be…all.” She opened her purse, paid for the items Mrs. Gabriel had sent her into town to purchase. Outside, she kept her head lowered and dragged up her composure around her, trying to avoid further slights as she hurried across the muddy street to the wagon. Approaching hooves sounded behind her but she didn’t look over her shoulder.
Just as she reached the wagon, a man stepped out of the shadows. “Let me help you up,” he said.
She backed away. This wasn’t the first time he’d approached her, and she had no trouble in identifying what he really wanted from her. “I don’t need your help. I don’t want you help.” She made her voice hard and firm. “Please do not accost me like this. I will tell Adam Gabriel….”
“He’s a Quaker,” the man sneered. “Won’t do anything to me. Just tell me to seek God or something.” He managed to touch her inappropriately.
She stifled a scream. Because who would come to her aid if she called for help? A prostitute–even a reformed one–had no protectors.
“I’m a Quaker,” a man said from behind Sunny, “but I’ll do more than tell thee to seek God.”
Sunny spun around to see Noah Whitmore, sliding off his horse. Though she’d seen him at the Quaker meeting house earlier this year, she’d never spoken to him.
The man who’d accosted her took a step back. “I thought when you came back from the war, you repented and got all ‘turn the other cheek’ again.” His tone sneered at Noah too.
Noah folded his arms in front of himself. “Thee ever hear the story about Samson using the jawbone of a jackass to slaughter Philistines?” Noah’s expression announced that he was in the mood to follow Samson’s example here and now.
Sunny’s heart pounded. Should she speak or remain silent?
The rude man began backing away. “She isn’t the first doxy the Gabriel family’s taken in to help.” The last two words taunted her. “And if she’s not like them, where’s the father of her brat? She’s not foolin’ anybody. She can dress up like a Quaker but she isn’t one. And we all know it.”
Noah took a menacing step forward and the man turned and bolted between stores toward the alley. Noah removed his hat politely. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
His pant legs were spattered with mud. He looked as if he had just now gotten back from the journey that had taken him away for the past a few months. She’d noticed his absence–after all, it was a small church. Honesty prompted her to admit that Noah had always caught her attention, right from the beginning.
Noah wasn’t a truly handsome man like some gambler in a fancy vest. But he was good-looking and something about the bleak look in his eyes, the grim set of his face always tugged at her, made her want to go to him and touch his cheek. A foolish thing I could never do.
“Is thee happy here?” Noah asked her. The unexpected question startled her. She struggled to find a polite reply.
He waved a hand as if wiping the question off a chalkboard.
She was relieved. “Happy” was a word she rarely thought of in connection with her life. What had just happened to her here had once more cut up her fragile peace.
She forced down the emotions bubbling up, churning inside her. She knew that Mrs. Gabriel sent her to town as a little change in the everyday routine of the farm, a boon, not an ordeal. I should tell her how it always is for me in town.
But Sunny hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak of the insults, snubs, and liberties she faced during each trip to town, not to the sweet unsullied Quaker woman, Constance Gabriel. The woman who’d taken her in just before Christmas last year and treated her like a daughter.
Sunny then realized that Noah was waiting to help her up into the wagon and that she hadn’t answered his question. “Oh!” She hastily offered him her hand. “Yes, the Gabriel’s have been very good to me.”
Two women halted on the boardwalk and stared at the two of them with searing intensity and disapproval. Sunny felt herself blush. “I better go. Mrs. Gabriel will be wondering where I am,” Sunny said.
Noah frowned but then courteously helped her up onto the wagon seat. “If thee doesn’t mind since I’m going thy way, I’ll ride alongside thee.”
What could she say? He wasn’t a child. He must know what associating with her would cost him socially. She slapped the reins and the wagon started forward. Noah swung up into his saddle and caught up to her.
Behind them, both women made loud huffing sounds of disapproval.
“Don’t let them bother thee,” Noah said, leaning so she could hear his low voice. “People around here don’t think much of Quakers. We’re misfits.”
Sunny wondered if he might be partially right. Though she was sure the women were judging her, maybe they were judging him too. Certainly Quakers dressed, talked and believed differently than any people she’d ever met before. She recalled now what she’d heard before, that Noah had gone to war. For some reason this had grieved his family and his church. Without planning to, this slipped out–“You went to war.”
His mouth became a hard line. “Yes, I went to war.”
She’d said the wrong thing. “But you’re home now.”
“Physically.”
She didn’t know what to say to this terse reply so she fell silent.
Twice wagons passed hers as she rode beside a pensive Noah Whitmore on the main road. The people in the wagons gawked at seeing the two of them together. Several times along the way, she thought Noah was going to say more to her, but he didn’t. He looked troubled too. She wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but she didn’t feel comfortable speaking to him like a friend. Except for the Gabriel’s she had no friends here.
Finally when she could stand the silence no longer, she said, “You’ve been away.” He could take that as a question or a comment and treat it anyway he wanted.
“I’ve been searching for a place of my own. I plan to homestead in Wisconsin.”
His reply unsettled her further. Why she couldn’t say or even think why. “I see.”
“Has thee ever thought about leaving here?”
“Where would I go?” she said without waiting to think about how she should reply.
He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
And what would I do? She had no way to support herself except to go back to the saloon. Sudden revulsion gagged her. Did those women in town think she’d chosen to be a prostitute? Did they think her mother had chosen to be one? A saloon was where a woman went when she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t a choice; it was a life sentence.
Then they reached the lane to Noah’s family’s farm. “Sunny, I’ll leave thee here.” He pulled at the brim of his hat. “Thanks for thy company. After weeks alone, it was nice to speak to thee.”
We didn’t say much. But Sunny smiled and nodded, her tongue tied by his kindness and politeness. And more importantly, he’d been polite to her in public. At the saloon, men were often polite but only in the saloon. Outside, they didn’t even look at her, the lowest of the low.
With a wave, Noah rode down the lane.
Sunny drove on, still in turmoil. A mile from home she stopped the wagon and bent her head, praying for self-control. If she appeared upset, she would have to explain the cause of her distress to Constance Gabriel. And she didn’t want to do that. She owed the Gabriel family much. In Idaho territory, she’d met Mercy Gabriel M.D., the eldest Gabriel daughter. Dr. Mercy had delivered Sunny’s baby last year and then made the arrangements for Sunny to come here to her parents and try for a new start.
“I have to get away from here. Start fresh.” Without warning, the words she’d long held back were spoken aloud into the quiet daylight. But she had no plan. No place to go. No way to earn a living–except the way she had in the past–on her back.
She choked back a sob, not for herself, but for her daughter. What if the type of public humiliation she’d suffered today happened a few years from now when her baby girl could understand what was being said about her mother? Noah’s questions came back to her. What am I going to do?
#
Feeling like a counterfeit, Sunny perched on the backless bench in the quiet Quaker meeting for another Sunday morning of worship she didn’t understand. She sat near the back on the women’s side beside her Constance Gabriel, who had taught Sunny to be still here and let the Inner Light lead her.
But how did that feel? Was she supposed to be feeling something, something besides bone-aching hopelessness? What was she going to do to move forward, to make a life for her and her six month old baby?
Little Dawn stirred in her arms and Sunny patted her six month old daughter, soothing her to be quiet. I’ve brought this shame upon my daughter as surely as my mother brought it onto me. She pushed the tormenting thought back, rocking slightly on the hard bench not just to comfort Dawn, but herself as well.
The door behind her opened, the sound magnified by the silence within. Even the devout turned their heads to glimpse who’d broken their peace.
He came. Awareness whispered through Sunny.
Noah Whitmore stalked to the men’s side and sat down near, but still a bit apart from his father and five older brothers. Today he was wearing his Sunday best like everyone else. His expression was stormy, determined.
Dawn woke in her arms and yawned. She was a sweet-tempered child, and as pretty as anything with reddish blond hair and big blue eyes. As Sunny smiled down at her, an old, heartbreaking thought stung her. I don’t even know who your father is. Sunny closed her eyes and absorbed the full weight of her wretchedness, thankful no one could hear what was in her mind.
Noah Whitmore rose. This was not uncommon. The Quaker worship consisted of people rising to recite scripture, discuss it or to quote scripture. However, in her time here, Noah had never risen. The stillness around Sunny became alert, sharp. Everyone looked at him. Unaccountably reluctant to meet his gaze, she lowered her eyes.
“You all know that I’ve been away,” Noah said, his voice growing firmer with each word. The congregation palpably absorbed this unexpected, unconventional announcement. In any other church, whispering might have broken out. Here though only shuttered glances and even keener concentration followed.
Sunny looked up and found that Noah Whitmore was looking straight at her. His intent gaze electrified her.
“I’m making this announcement because I’ve staked a homestead claim in Wisconsin but must accumulate what’s necessary and return there while there is still time to put in a crop.” Still focusing on her, he paused and his jaw worked. “And I need a wife, want a wife, have chosen a wife.”
A wife? Sunny sensed the conspicuous yet silent reaction Noah’s announcement was garnering. And the fact that since Noah was staring at her, everyone was now studying her too. He couldn’t… No, he–
“Adam Gabriel,” Noah said, his voice suddenly gruffer, “I want to ask for thy foster daughter Sunny’s hand in marriage. And I want us to be married now, here, today.”

I loved writing Sunny’s story.

When I finished writing, Her Healing Ways, the last in my Gabriel Sisters series, Sunny’s character just wouldn’t let me fail to tell her story. And then in my mind, I saw her in the meetinghouse and Noah stood up and proposed. And I was off–typing as fast as I could. I hope you’ll agree with me that Sunny and Noah’s marriage of convenience story is deeply emotional and ultimately satisfying.–Lyn

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