Kat Henry Doran/Veronica Lynch: Slow Train to Nowhere: Rosalee by Laura Strickland

Sometimes a woman has to lose her head to know her own mind.

As part of our ongoing Books In A Series feature, Wild Women Authors is pleased to showcase Slow Train to Nowhere: Rosalee, written by Laura Strickland and released by the Wild Rose Press.

About the Book: Adopted as a tiny girl straight off the orphan train, Rosalee Thompson has always been pampered by her wealthy parents. Now a young woman, she chafes at the restrictive bonds of her ribbons and ruffles. When the choices made for her include a prospective husband, she becomes a runaway bride.

Matthew Speedwell has a past he’d rather keep hidden and ideas for a future he’s not sure he can achieve. The last thing he expects is to be made part of a reluctant bride’s snowy escape. He believes he’s not good enough for Rosalee, but his heart has ideas of its own. As, so it seems, does Miss Rosalee.

An Excerpt:

The conductor moved on. The door of the car slid open and a woman tripped in. She was clad in pink from head to foot. Pink coat. Pink ruffles showing beneath. Even pink laces on her shoes. She wore a pink hat perched on her black hair and she lugged enough baggage to make her stagger.

At the sight of her, Matthew’s pulse quickened.

Well, I’ll be damned.

She fixed her gaze on him and came along the aisle. He leaped up to help her with her bags.

“Here you are!” she exclaimed as if they’d known each other half a lifetime. “I searched three other cars for you.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Miss, the train’s already movin’.”

“I can feel that.”

“But—you never came aboard to find me?” He told her in horror, “You’ll be trapped here now till the next station.”

“As good a story as any,” she remarked. “Are you sitting just here?”

She deposited her luggage opposite his seat while the other occupants of the car—not above six people—stared.

“Miss, uh—”

“Thompson,” she reminded him.

“Miss Thompson, you’re headed down the line. Into a heap of bad weather, I might add.”

“Yes, the weather aspect is unfortunate.”

“But—you’ll have to turn back at the first station.”

“I won’t.” She rummaged around inside one of her four bags and carefully extracted a doll.

The sight of it made Matthew’s eyes widen. Surely that had to be the most exquisite piece of frippery he’d ever seen. The doll had a head-full of golden curls and wore a lavender dress with a little purple coat over it. She even had a tiny white fur muff.

She held it out to Matthew. “Will this do?”

“Uh—miss, that must be worth a fortune. I’ll pay you for it, of course.” He reached for his money clip.

“I don’t want anything for it. I told you, it’s a gift.” Impatiently, she waved the poppet at him. Very carefully, he took it into his hands.

“Do you think the little girl—”

“Tillie.”

“Will Tillie like her?”

“She’ll be over the moon. I don’t suppose she’s ever seen the like.”

Miss Thompson gave a tight smile. “Good.” She began to gather her bags up again.

“Where you goin’?”

“To find a seat.”

He suggested, shyly for him, “You can sit right there, if you like.”

She collapsed into the seat. Twisted her hands together. Her gloves were pink.

“Uh, Miss Thompson, if I might ask—”

“Don’t ask, please. It’s really better if you don’t.”

“But if you’re in some kind of trouble—”

“Everything is under control.”

“If you require an escort—”

That made her shoot him a look, an intense, narrow-eyed one that darn near knocked him back in his seat. He managed to bite back the rest of what he wanted to say while she settled into the seat. All while the train picked up steam and, with it, speed.

Then he just had to speak. “You’re never traveling on your own, a—a young woman like yourself.”

She lifted a single black brow.

“If you have a companion in one of the other cars, why, by all means return there.”

“The question comes to mind, why can’t people keep to their own business?” She put her nose in the air. “By and large, they seem incapable of it.”

She looked like a porcelain doll, but she had some spit in her. Refusing to take offense, Matthew grinned.

“Beg pardon for being concerned. Young ladies don’t usually travel alone.”

“They do. Train travel being deemed by and large safe, they travel to visit relatives. Or to take up posts teaching school or such. Or to become mail-order brides.”

“Just goes to show what I know.” He hesitated a moment, letting his gaze move from her exquisite eyes to the decidedly stubborn chin and downward. “So which are you doin’? Going to teach school? No, wait a minute. The nasty woman in the mercantile said you were getting married. In a couple of days.”

“Tomorrow.”

Matthew stared. “So what you doin’ here?”

She rested her gaze on him again. This time she seemed to take stock of him the way he had of her. He squirmed beneath the long and steady regard. He knew he was no oil painting, but she seemed to weigh and measure him with particular interest.

“Mr. Speedwell, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

He thought about that. “I can. Doesn’t mean I will. Depends what it is, I reckon.”

“Then never mind.”

“Miss Thompson, are you in trouble?”

“Do I look like I’m in trouble?”

Possibly a trick question. “Might.”

“I have a ticket and money in my pocket. What could possibly go amiss?”

To purchase Slow Train to Nowhere: Rosalee, go to:

Amazon US:

https://www.amazon.com/Slow-Train-Nowhere-Laura-Strickland-ebook/dp/B0DM2NKGNG/