Welcome, WIPsters!

Today you’re getting a sneak peak at the first chapter of my new book: Rocky Mountain Rogue (coming in 2016):

*

Susannah Moore peered out the stagecoach window at the passing Kansas scenery: a flat, grassy plain as far as the eye could see. The further West they got, the trees became fewer and fewer until all that was left was a stretch of baked grass under a punishing sun, and, other than a few rock outcroppings as they grew closer to Colorado Territory, no end to the prairie in sight.

It was all very boring, really.
With a sigh, the blue eyed beauty pulled back the window covering and sagged back onto her chair, waving a fan in a useless attempt to dispel some of the dust and cool down. Back in Boston, the journey West seemed so exciting. After weeks of travel by train and then private coach she knew the truth: she was hot during the day, cold at night, and dirty not even two minutes after finishing her bath in one of the hell holes they called a hotel. The whole trip was thirsty and uncomfortable, and the adventure non-existent.

Setting aside her fan, she drew out for the umpteenth time her one solace and companion on this nightmare journey: a photograph of her intended.

Jesse Oberon had dark wavy hair, light eyes she guessed to be blue or hazel, and an unsmiling face that couldn’t hide how handsome he was. His tall, lean body looked sharp in a black suit and vest, long legs encased in shining black boots, and black hat in hand. Susannah’s finger traced the curve of his head and she smiled. Mr. Oberon, or as she already thought of him, her Jesse.

The coach bounced over a brutal rut, and Susannah nearly lost her seat. Frowning, she tucked the picture away and drew back the oilcloth to shout at the driver.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing? I was nearly thrown me from the carriage! Are you even paying attention to where you’re going?”
“Sorry, miss.” The driver didn’t sound sorry at all. “Road’s a little worn here. We’re almost to Colorado Territory.”

“Thank goodness,” Susannah grumbled, holding on to her bonnet. She’d spent half the trip ricocheting around inside the cab. At least there weren’t any other passengers with her, just a few trunks and bags, several of which were hers. There were no private coaches to Colorado Springs, so she’d contracted one that was carrying only packages. After an unpleasant experience on the train to St. Louis, involving a drunken man serenading her beauty, Susannah had vowed never to travel as a single woman again. Which, once she arrived in Colorado Springs, she would no longer be.

As the afternoon wore on, the way grew rockier. Hanging onto her seat for dear life, Susannah was grateful she hadn’t eaten anything all day. The journey had certainly been hard on her body, and her clothes. Her smart riding habit and jacket had been the latest fashion when she bought it, but now, soaked in sweat and covered in dust, they weren’t fit to be cleaning rags. The food had been so horrid, she’d lost weight, though today her corset felt a bit too tight. The maid who’d laced her up that morning had seemed annoyed at Susannah’s exacting instructions, and taken it out on her stays.

The road curved, and as the coach rattled on, Susannah uncovered the window again to see large, orange rock outcroppings. Craning her neck to watch them pass, she perked up with interest at the sight of billowing dust far beyond the coach’s wake. Was it buffalo? Or Indians? She squinted to see.

After a few moments, she realized it was a lone horse and rider, galloping hard to catch the coach. The road turned again and the rider disappeared behind the rocks. Susannah sat back, feeling a little disappointed. It would’ve been nice to see something other than dirt and scrub brush.

The road ran along on higher ground, with a large ditch on either side. Susannah checked again, but the rider was gone.

And then he was right beside her, driving his horse out of the ditch to gallop up to coach and pull level with her window.

He was clad all in black, from gloves to boots, with a broad brimmed hat shading his face and a black handkerchief covering half his face. He rode easily alongside the coach, a shadow no one was meant to see. Except she had seen him.

As she stared out the window, he raised his head and looked straight at her. For a moment, green eyes met blue. The rider pressed a gloved finger to his mouth in an order for her to stay silent. His green eyes sparkled over his disguise, and as Susannah stared, he winked at her.

She fell back into her seat with a startled gasp. The sudden arrival on a lone stallion, the handkerchief disguising his face: this man was no benign traveler; he was a rogue up to no good.

Sliding to the other side of the coach, she drew back the oil cloth and stuck out her head as far as she dared.

“Excuse me,” she called up to the driver and his partner. “Did you realize there’s a rider trying to catch up with us?”

Then all hell broke loose.
***

Stay tuned for the next bits coming soon! Part 2 here