I have a Great Pyrenees dog, one cat, a finch, and three chickens who all seem to want to be in my small office while I'm trying to work (except the chickens, although they'd be thrilled to get into the house if I let them). I live in the Pacific Northwest near the Columbia River, still within 10 miles of my old high school. I love to cook, read, entertain friends, decorate, and pursue various crafts. I also make jewelry and I'm a fine needlework artist, specializing in embroidery, thread crochet, and sewing. Of all the books I've written I've had just one foreign sale, and that was THE IRISH BRIDE, which was translated into Norwegian, where I understand it was a big hit. G I've been a self-employed working novelist for the past twenty years.
s of the campfire, or watching the last minutes of a sunset.I've been a self-employed working novelist for the past twenty years. At night, though, when she lay in her makeshift bed in the wagon, she missed knowing that if she were to peek out under the wagon canvas she'd see Tyler staring into the flame. Libby spoke no more of the incident, not to Rory or anyone else, and simply withdrew to her original role as camp cook. None of us.” Then to the mules, he yelled, “Heyup, you knobheads, keep movin'! Keep movin'!”
No offense, Miss Libby, but it's been a sore spot with him for a long time, and we just don't talk about it. “Tyler can tell you if he's a mind to, but I doubt he will. Rory considered her question, then shook his head.
Why on earth would he blame Tyler for letting his sister die? But Rory, in a departure from his usual outgoing friendliness, proved as unwilling to discuss the situation as his brother-in-law. During the day, as she and Rory bounced along in the chuck wagon, she tried to learn the reason for the malevolent animosity between Tyler and his father. “But it seemed strained by Tyler's absence.
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