by Janet Dailey
A Tradition of Pride
The Americana Series: Mississippi
Janet Dailey
Janet Dailey's Americana Series
Dangerous Masquerade (Alabama)
Northern Magic (Alaska)
Sonora Sundown (Arizona)
Valley Of the Vapours (Arkansas)
Fire And Ice (California)
After the Storm (Colorado)
Difficult Decision (Connecticut)
The Matchmakers (Delaware)
Southern Nights (Florida)
Night Of The Cotillion (Georgia)
Kona Winds (Hawaii)
The Travelling Kind (Idaho)
A Lyon's Share (Illinois)
The Indy Man (Indiana)
The Homeplace (Iowa)
The Mating Season (Kansas)
Bluegrass King (Kentucky)
The Bride Of The Delta Queen (Louisiana)
Summer Mahogany (Maine)
Bed Of Grass (Maryland)
That Boston Man (Massachusetts)
Enemy In Camp (Michigan)
Giant Of Mesabi (Minnesota)
A Tradition Of Pride (Mississippi)
Show Me (Missouri)
Big Sky Country (Montana)
Boss Man From Ogallala (Nebraska)
Reilly's Woman (Nevada)
Heart Of Stone (New Hampshire)
One Of The Boys (New Jersey)
Land Of Enchantment (New Mexico)
Beware Of The Stranger (New York)
That Carolina Summer (North Carolina)
Lord Of the High Lonesome (North Dakota)
The Widow And The Wastrel (Ohio)
Six White Horses (Oklahoma)
To Tell The Truth (Oregon)
The Thawing Of Mara (Pennsylvania)
Strange Bedfellow (Rhode Island)
Low Country Liar (South Carolina)
Dakota Dreamin' (South Dakota)
Sentimental Journey (Tennessee)
Savage Land (Texas)
A Land Called Deseret (Utah)
Green Mountain Man (Vermont)
Tidewater Lover (Virginia)
For Mike's Sake (Washington)
Wild And Wonderful (West Virginia)
With A Little Luck (Wisconsin)
Darling Jenny (Wyoming)
Other Janet Dailey Titles You Might Enjoy
American Dreams
Aspen Gold
Fiesta San Antonio
For Bitter Or Worse
The Great Alone
Heiress
The Ivory Cane
Legacies
Masquerade
The Master Fiddler
No Quarter Asked
Rivals
Something Extra
Sweet Promise
Tangled Vines
Author Biography
Janet Dailey was born Janet Haradon in 1944 in Storm Lake, Iowa. She attended secretarial school in Omaha, Nebraska before meeting her husband, Bill. Bill and Janet worked together in construction and land development until they "retired" to travel throughout the United States, inspiring Janet to write the Americana series of romances.
In 1974, Janet Dailey was the first American author to write for Harlequin, her first novel was NO QUARTER ASKED. She has since gone on to write approximately 90 novels, 21 of which have appeared on The New York Times bestseller list. She has won many awards and accolades for her work, appearing widely on Radio and Television. Today, there are over three-hundred million Janet Dailey books in print in 19 different languages, making her one of the most popular novelists in the world.
Janet Dailey's Americana Series
Dangerous Masquerade (Alabama)
Northern Magic (Alaska)
Sonora Sundown (Arizona)
Valley Of the Vapours (Arkansas)
Fire And Ice (California)
After the Storm (Colorado)
Difficult Decision (Connecticut)
The Matchmakers (Delaware)
Southern Nights (Florida)
Night Of The Cotillion (Georgia)
Kona Winds (Hawaii)
The Travelling Kind (Idaho)
A Lyon's Share (Illinois)
The Indy Man (Indiana)
The Homeplace (Iowa)
The Mating Season (Kansas)
Bluegrass King (Kentucky)
The Bride Of The Delta Queen (Louisiana)
Summer Mahogany (Maine)
Bed Of Grass (Maryland)
That Boston Man (Massachusetts)
Enemy In Camp (Michigan)
Giant Of Mesabi (Minnesota)
A Tradition Of Pride (Mississippi)
Show Me (Missouri)
Big Sky Country (Montana)
Boss Man From Ogallala (Nebraska)
Reilly's Woman (Nevada)
Heart Of Stone (New Hampshire)
One Of The Boys (New Jersey)
Land Of Enchantment (New Mexico)
Beware Of The Stranger (New York)
That Carolina Summer (North Carolina)
Lord Of the High Lonesome (North Dakota)
The Widow And The Wastrel (Ohio)
Six White Horses (Oklahoma)
To Tell The Truth (Oregon)
The Thawing Of Mara (Pennsylvania)
Strange Bedfellow (Rhode Island)
Low Country Liar (South Carolina)
Dakota Dreamin' (South Dakota)
Sentimental Journey (Tennessee)
Savage Land (Texas)
A Land Called Deseret (Utah)
Green Mountain Man (Vermont)
Tidewater Lover (Virginia)
For Mike's Sake (Washington)
Wild And Wonderful (West Virginia)
With A Little Luck (Wisconsin)
Darling Jenny (Wyoming)
Other Janet Dailey Titles Available in E-Reads Editions
American Dreams
Aspen Gold
Fiesta San Antonio
For Bitter Or Worse
The Great Alone
Heiress
The Ivory Cane
Legacies
Masquerade
The Master Fiddler
No Quarter Asked
Rivals
Something Extra
Sweet Promise
Tangled Vines
Preface
When I first started writing back in the Seventies, my husband Bill and I were retired and traveling all over the States with our home—a 34' travel trailer—in tow. That's when Bill came up with the great idea of my writing a romance novel set in each one of our fifty states. It was an idea I ultimately accomplished before switching to mainstream fiction and hitting all the international bestseller lists.
As we were preparing to reissue these early titles, I initially planned to update them all—modernize them, so to speak, and bring them into the new high-tech age. Then I realized I couldn't do that successfully any more than I could take a dress from the Seventies and redesign it into one that would look as if it were made yesterday. That's when I saw that the true charm of these novels is their look back on another time and another age. Over the years, they have become historical novels, however recent the history. When you read them yourself, I know you will feel the same.
So, enjoy, and happy reading to all!
Introduction
Introducing Janet Dailey's AMERICANA. Every novel in this collection is your passport to a romantic tour of the United States through time-honored favorites by America's First Lady of romance fiction. Each of the fifty novels is set in a different state, researched by Janet and her husband, Bill. For the Daileys it was an odyssey of discovery. For you, it's the journey of a lifetime.
Chapter One
RANS MACQUADE PAUSED on the porch of the brick cottage
. Overhead, the morning sun was bright in a cloudless sky. A cool northwest breeze rustled through the pines, carrying a chilling January nip to the air. He allowed his corded jacket of wheat tan to swing open, indifferent to the temperature.
The sweep of his narrowed brown eyes encountered the long, straight rows of pecan trees in the rolling field across the road from the cottage. They were wooden skeletons without their summer foliage, stretching in seemingly endless lines.
The firm line of his mouth curved upward at the corners in satisfaction, carving masculine dimples in his lean cheeks. All of this was virtually his. He was in complete charge with a free hand over the entire operation of Alexander land.
Nothing less would have induced him to leave Texas to move to southern Mississippi. Rans MacQuade had made that clear to Martin Alexander before he accepted the position. The man had given his word that Rans would be in total control and Rans welcomed the challenge of it. After nearly two full months, Rans was willing to concede that Martin Alexander was a man of his word.
A quick glance at his watch reminded him of the time. Smooth, effortless strides carried him down the steps to the pickup truck parked next to the cottage. The breeze rumpled the wayward thickness of his tobacco-brown hair. His fingers raked if carelessly into a semblance of order as he climbed into the cab of the forest-green and white truck.
It was only a short drive to the main house. Normally Rans would have walked, through the stand of pines between his cottage and the Alexander home, but after going over last year's production report in detail with Martin Alexander, he was driving to the cattle barns. It was more practical to leave from the main house.
The Alexander home was an imposing structure, although not the typically palatial Southern plantation. The Spanish influence was evident in its austere design and the liberal usage of lacy grillwork. The grandness of age was understated. Many times Rans had seen it in the early evening hours, the windows ablaze with welcoming light. It was first a home and second a house.
At the front door, Rans let the brass knocker fall three times. He was not yet that familiar with his employer to walk into his home unannounced. So he waited, a thumb hooked in his belt loop while he absently studied the white enameled door and the flanking windows that ran the length of it, protected by intricate iron scrollwork.
The door opened and his gaze shifted to meet a pair of jet dark eyes on the same level with his own. Considering Rans's height of six foot one, it was not an occurrence that happened often.
"Good morning, MacQuade." There was a flash of white teeth as the man smiled and opened the door wider. "You must be here to see Martin. Come on in."
"Good morning, Trevor." Rans returned the greeting diffidently as he stepped into the entrance hall. "Martin's expecting me."
"Yes, I know." Trevor Cochran smiled again. "He's on a long-distance telephone call right now. Why don't you go into the living room and make yourself comfortable? He shouldn't be long. Would you like some coffee, tea or anything while you're waiting?"
"No." A brief negative shake accompanied his reply.
"I'll let Martin know you're here." With a condescending nod, the tall, dark-haired man moved off in the direction of the study.
Rans's gaze lingered on the man's back before he turned toward the open double doors to the riving room. A muscle twitched briefly along his hard jaw and he recognized the cause of his impatience to be Trevor Cochran.
When Rans had arrived the last of November to take charge, he had been surprised and curious to discover that Martin Alexander had a young and intelligent son-in-law, Trevor Cochran. He was the husband of Martin's only child, the heir apparent of the vast Alexander holdings. Presumably Martin should have been grooming his son-in-law to take over the reins. Instead he had offered Rans a long-term contract giving him total charge of the farm.
Mentally Rans had braced himself for the hostility he had expected Martin's decision to bring. Yet Trevor Cochran hadn't seemed at all perturbed by the turn of events. Although Trevor had an active role in the company and lived with his wife in the same house with his father-in-law, he seemed satisfied that someone else was solely responsible for the operation.
Even while he recognized Trevor's lack of ambition, Rans couldn't understand it. He didn't know how anyone could be a part of an operation this size and not rush out to aggressively meet the challenge of running it smoothly and successfully.
There was another factor to be recognized, too. Despite Trevor Cochran's muscular physique, he was physically soft. He was neither able nor willing to meet the physical demands of the position. His prowess, Rans decided, was limited to the bedroom. With Trevor's dark, rather stunning good looks, it had probably been put to considerable use—and still was, if the rumors were accurate.
Pushing the draperies of green brocade aside, Rans gazed out the window at the expanse of well-kept lawn shaded by towering pines. Footsteps sounded on the tiled floor of the hallway, followed by a second, lighter pair. He released the draperies and turned expectantly.
"Sara." It was Trevor Cochran's voice, and Rans sighed impatiently at the delay in meeting with Martin Alexander. "Has my wife been down this morning? She wasn't at the breakfast table."
"Lara—Mrs. Cochran," the housekeeper corrected herself quickly, "had breakfast in her room about an hour ago."
"In her room." An eyebrow arched swiftly as Rans smiled with cynical amusement. He thought separate bedrooms had gone out with hooped skirts. However, it did explain the first gossip he had heard on his arrival—that Trevor Cochran spent more time with other women than he did with his wife.
"But she hasn't been down?" Trevor Cochran repeated from the hall. "Are you sure?"
"Were you looking for me, Trevor?" A second female voice drifted into the living room from the large hall. It was firm, very cool and composed, yet soft and faintly husky.
A fiery color, caught Rans's eye. Instantly his gaze focused on the large, ornate mirror in the living room. From his angle it reflected the scene in the hallway, showing the lower half of the staircase where Lara Alexander Cochran had paused.
She was strikingly beautiful. There was no other way to describe her. As Rans openly studied her reflection in the mirror, he felt the stirring of his pulse. She was wearing a tweed suit of ocher gold and brown, while revealing a shapely pair of legs. Despite its bulkiness, the material of her suit seemed to cling to the curve of her thighs and hips. The molding lines of the jacket suggested the slenderness of her waist and the jutting firmness of her breasts, which Rans knew would fill the cupping of his large hands.
If her disturbingly shapely female figure didn't attract a man's attention, then Rans knew the striking combination of shimmering red gold hair and green eyes would. To top it off, Lara Cochran had a face to complement everything else—a vision of perfection from the delicate wing of her brow down a classically straight nose to a mouth with a sensually full lower lip.
The housekeeper discreetly left the couple alone in the hallway, but Rans felt no such compunction to halt his hidden observation.
"Yes, I was looking for you," Trevor replied to her question. "I knocked at your door, but you didn't answer."
"Knocked at your door." Again is mouth twitched in dry amusement. This marriage was taking on the overtones of a Victorian novel.
"I was probably taking a bath and didn't hear you." Lara shrugged eloquently and descended the last few steps. "I was just on my way out. What did you want?"
Her marble features were completely devoid of expression as she tilted her head upward to gaze at her husband's face. Rans's eyes narrowed on her reflection.
The key word was "marble." The smooth, classic beauty of her face seemed to be carved out of that hard, white stone, with any imperfection polished away, leaving a hard veneer devoid of any animation. It was probably the reason Rans appreciated her loveliness without feeling a surge of lust in his loins. She was a cold work of art.
"I arranged my schedule at the office so that
I could take today off," Trevor was saying, the handsome mouth curving, into a winning smile guaranteed to set a female heart fluttering. Yet Lara Cochran seemed unmoved by its derided charm. "It's been so long since we've had a day to ourselves that I thought we might drive to the gulf coast."
Glistening copper-colored lips curved, into a smile of insincere apology. "I'm on my way to Lumberton, Trevor."
"What's in Lumberton?" His smooth forehead was faintly drawn into a frown.
"Angie Connors," was the composed response. "Her husband flew down to Longleaf to do some quail hunting and she came along."
"Angie Connors," he thoughtfully repeated the name. "She's the brunette who was matron of honor at our wedding, wasn't she? The two of you went to college together."
"That's right." Lara Cochran turned away as she answered. By her actions, Rans MacQuade guessed that she was looking at herself in the oval hall mirror. "It's been over two years since we've had a chance to get together, and she'll be leaving the day after tomorrow."
Rans watched the long, slender fingers smooth the liquid-fire hair away from her face, although he could not remember ever seeing a strand out of place. And always she wore it pulled back in a coil or a bun to emphasize the classic beauty of her features. He had never seen it falling loose around her shoulders where the breeze could play with it or a man could run his fingers through the red gold tresses.
"I never did have a chance to get to know her. I'll come along with you." Trevor stated. "It's only right that I become better acquainted with your best friend."
"No." The refusal, was instant yet smoothly firm. "You would only be bored, Trevor. Besides, I'm sure daddy would much prefer that you are at the office today, regardless of whether you can arrange to be away or not."
Trevor's expression darkened. "Lara—" He seemed about to argue, the point, when a hallway door opened and closed out of range of Rans's limited view.
"Trevor, did you say Rans had arrived?"
At the sound of Martin Alexander's voice, Rans glanced away from the mirror, letting his gaze focus indifferently on the blackened hearth of the fireplace.
"He's in the living room. I'll get him," Trevor replied tightly.
