by Mimi Milan
Where the Snowy Owl Sleeps
Mimi Milan
Eaton House
Contents
Untitled
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Bibliography
Where the Snowy Owl Sleeps
© 2018 by Michele Claudio
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Carpe Librum Book Design.
Created with Vellum
Praise for Mimi Milan
What others are saying about Mimi Milan’s books:
The Dancing Lady
Mimi Milan writes a beautiful story of two people saving each other and finding true love. Fina is one of the more secretive brides but there is also more to Nacho than simply owning the only restaurant in town. Can these two learn to trust each other and find love? Dive into this engaging holiday romance to find out!
~ CarterAndConnersMom, Reader ~
As I progress through the series I find myself drawn in more & more to the characters in Noelle. I appreciated the Spanish terms being explained naturally through the dialogue & they added “flavor” to the story. I would enjoy reading more books by this author.
~ ArmyMomX2, Reader ~
Full of surprises!
I couldn't figure out who had more secrets they were hiding, Fina or Nacho? So glad there was a Happy Ever After to this book, I sure had my doubts at times!! If you're up for some creativity in the kitchen, you'll love this book!! I'm looking forward to reading more of Mimi's books!
~ Cindy Nipper, Reader ~
A Rebel in Jericho
“I thoroughly enjoyed A Rebel in Jericho. I felt that it was a great read. The plot was interesting and kept me turning the pages to find out what would happen next. The characters were well developed and interesting. I enjoyed the historical aspect and the description at the end of real events hinted at in the story. I like that the ending lends itself well to a sequel while effectively completing this story. I can't wait to read more by this author.
I love that 20 percent of the sales from this book goes toward stopping human trafficking which is a bigger problem than we realize.”
~ Carrie, Reader ~
“A Rebel in Jericho has a little of everything for its readers to enjoy. Suspense, romance, deception, and the desire to survive. Catalina has an incredible strength within herself, while at the same time showing just how vulnerable she is. I was intrigued to find out what twist and turns would take place next with every page I turned. I look forward to continuing reading this series and what other adventures are to come.”
~ Warrior Ground ~
Twice Redeemed
I believe that this story is worth every bit of a five-star rating. It’s worthy of winning a literary award.”
~ Writer at Heart ~
This second book in the series is as good as the first. The characters are believable and well-written. Kind hearted former sheriff John Durbin needs to rescue the young woman who previously helped him. Will their relationship become more than rescuer and lady in danger? I recommend this book and the entire series.
~ Marianne Spitzer, Author ~
The Angel Paws Rescue series
“I really enjoyed all three of the novellas in this series (the Angel Paws Rescue series). Each novella is surprisingly very different from the other, but each has a wounded veteran and an arts person as the hero and heroine with a pet/service animal adopted from Angel Paws Rescue. I recommend the series to anyone who enjoys clean, heart-warming contemporary romance.”
~ MH, Reader ~
For the ones that were not burned, buried or bred out,
and for those who stood beside them against the injustice.
We are many spirits within one race.
Foreword
When I was first asked to join the Brides of Blessings series and heard that it was set in gold rush California, I knew right away that I wanted to write a story about the indigenous there. Part of this desire stemmed from the fact that my own people of the Arawak nation still fail to receive federal recognition from the United States of America, and that we are not the only ones to have this happen to them. For example, quite recently there was a spokeswoman from the Nevada Nisenan tribe who came forward and said the same was happening to her people—despite the fact that they have a very long, rich history that has been well documented.
The fact that the Natives in our country still face systemic injustices made my wish to share their stories even stronger. Of course, I couldn’t simply write whatever I wanted about the Natives who reside in California. While I know plenty about my own, I did not know anything at all about the Miwok. So, I spent four months researching whatever I could (see the bibliography in the back of this book). That included learning as much of the vocabulary as I could, their creation stories, rituals, dress, etc. Grant it, chances are good that I’ve gotten a few things wrong—especially since some artistic license was taken in order to tell a story that still fit within the confines of the series itself. After all, it is supposed to be something of a love story. Therefore, it must end with a “happily ever after.” At the same time, I did not make it with blazing desire as some of my other stories have been. That simply wouldn’t have been realistic and, in my opinion, would have been a disservice to the ones who came before. Still, I hope you will all enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. On that note, I would like to thank a few individuals for helping me weave this story.
First, to my own Creator. I hope I’m always blessed with the longing and ability to share stories.
Patricia Highton, you brought the heat this time! Thank you for editing the book and keeping me on track.
For Guillermo, “there is no such thing as illegal on stolen land.”
To all the betas and reviewers, thank you so much for doing what you do. The book is always better because of you all.
Finally, thank you to all the readers who continue to turn the page. Your lovely reviews encourage me to continue writing.
Prologue
On the outskirts of Caldera, California
Fall 1852
“Are you happy, Chel?”
Araceli looked up at her handsome husband with adoration, his hands firmly gripping the horse reins while one of her own toyed with the dragon claw chain hanging around her neck. The other rested lightly on her belly. It was fully swollen—boldly bragging signs of the bliss she had been blessed with. She smiled, knowing that there beat within her proof how life was precious in every way. “Miguel, I don’t think there is a woman in all of Blessings who could be happier than me. Speaking of which, how much longer do you think it will take until we get home?”
Miguel looked up at the sky. “We timed the trip well. We’ll probably get home right before dark.”
“That is good,” Araceli s
aid and she meant it. While she was thankful to have had the opportunity to visit San Francisco—and sell several of her prized paintings for sums that would easily see them through the remaining year—she didn’t actually enjoy the travel itself. Along with the constant jostle, there were several bruises on her bottom from when the wheels hit deep ruts in the road.
Crack!
Like now.
“Again?” Araceli frowned as the wheel sunk down into the road and she bounced once more. Accompanying the additional sore spot on her backside was the increasing worry about how all of this was affecting the baby. She unconsciously rubbed her belly while Miguel snapped the reins a little harder.
“Walk on,” he commanded the horses and the beautiful beasts pulled. However, the wagon refused to be moved. “I’ll have to climb down and see if I can help pull them out.”
“Do you want me to help, too?”
Miguel looked aghast. “And injure yourself? Absolutely not. I’ll not have you doing such laborious work and risking harm to you and my son.”
Araceli smiled. “You seem awfully sure it’s a boy.”
“That’s because me and God done had a talk about this.” He winked at her and she smiled at the newfound faith they were beginning to share with one another.
“Well, that may be. However, sometimes we only hear what we want to… like right now. My suggestion to help was really only an excuse to get out of the wagon.”
“Woman, how was I supposed to know that? See, that’s the problem with women—they always want men to read their minds.”
“Leer mi mente,” she playfully swatted his arm. “I’m not asking you to read my mind. I’m just asking you to not be deaf and blind. You must have seen me bounce in this seat at least a dozen times, and I know I complained each time it happened.”
A chuckle sounded deep from Miguel’s throat and she knew then that he had been teasing her. He jumped down out of the wagon and reached up. “As you wish, mi amor.”
His arms reached up and he wrapped his hands around her expanding waist. Then he gently placed her on the ground. She welcomed the brief kiss he placed on her lips.
“Careful now. That’s how we ended up with this one.” She pointed to her belly.
He gave her a mischievous grin. “Exactly why I can do that if I want. I don’t have to worry about being careful for a while yet.”
“Miguel!” She swatted him again. “You are travieso.”
“I’d say ‘naughty’ is putting it mildly,” he laughed. Then he landed another kiss on her. Pulling away, he gave her a wink. “I really could do this all day, but I think I better get the wagon unstuck instead.”
Araceli sighed. For as much as he could kiss her all day, she could go on letting him. However, she knew he was right. The last thing they needed was to be stuck on the road at night. She kicked one of the wagon wheels. “How long do you think it’ll take to get her moving again?”
“Shouldn’t be long.” Miguel walked around to the back of the wagon and leaned into the bed to retrieve a shovel. “Good thing we brought this. I’ll dig up dirt from the side of the road and use it to fill in the rut a bit. That’ll give a little more traction and should be easier to get the wheel out.”
“Alright. Make sure you dig far enough off the road, though. We wouldn’t want to leave someone else in the same position we’re in.”
Miguel nodded his agreement and set to work. The shovel sunk into the ground and he scooped up a small mound of dirt. He carried it over to the wagon and dumped it into the large groove that trapped the wheel. After each fresh addition, he patted down the dirt. He had repeated the process several more times when a couple of men on horseback rode up.
“Ahoy, mates!”
Ahoy?
Araceli walked around the wagon to eye the two men. The one gentleman was older with a round paunch and scraggly white beard. He wore an unfashionable hat made of hide with a wide brim and two white plumes sticking out the top of it. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was something only pirates wore—a tricorne. Although she couldn’t possibly say why. They were far from the ocean now—no ships to speak of at all.
She turned her attention to the other man. He was dressed far better in refined clothes that spoke of someone of a certain station. He was also much younger—perhaps her own husband’s age—and of stately stature but his skin held the pallor of sickness. His hand flew to his mouth to cover a terrible cough that erupted from him, proving her assumption that he must have been ill with something dreadful.
“Looks like you’ve run aground.” The older man laughed at his own joke as Miguel quickly joined her side, easily wrapping an arm around her while he gripped the shovel in his opposite hand. “Might we offer you a bit of service?”
Miguel’s eyes darted from one man to the other. “I wouldn’t want to trouble y’all any. Besides, I’m almost finished here—just gotta pull the old girl out.”
“Nonsense. Tis no trouble at all,” the man insisted and dismounted. He motioned for his companion to do the same and they both approached, holding out their hands to exchange formal greetings. Araceli freely shook the one man’s hand, but hesitated when it came to the other and he coughed once more. What was it that Doc Edwards had told her? Something about getting sick off of others simply from touch, and that it could make her baby sick… or worse. The idea of either possibility frightened her. She gave him a curt nod instead, her action arousing a sly smile from the man. Or had she imagined it? She quickly forgot when the other cleared his throat. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
The man walked past her and her nostrils filled with a pungent odor every bit of the deep sea. From what she had learned on their travels to San Francisco, the ocean smelled much different than the beach. While the latter mixed sand and sea to leave a crisp, sharp smell of salt in the air, the former was harder and heavier and full of fish. Yes, that was the thing of it all. The man reeked of dead fish.
The other smelled exactly as he looked—sick.
She held a finger to her nose and cleared her throat. Stepping back a bit to allow the men to pass. They all followed Miguel to the front of the wagon.
“Here’s the trouble,” he pointed at the wheel.
“Ah, yes. I see where’s she’s ensnared ya. What be your plan, captain?”
“Uh, I guess a couple of us can grab the reins and pull the horses. Maybe another can push from behind.”
“Good call. My boy, Jimbo, can take care of that.”
“Don’t forget me,” Araceli chimed in.
Miguel frowned. “I think maybe you should sit this one out. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt or nothing.”
Araceli crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You must have me mistaken for some other kind of gal. You know I’m not the sort to sit around and watch others do all the work.”
“How can I forget?” Araceli gave him a warning glare. Her tough act forced a smile from him. “Alright. How much harm can it cause anyway? Take your pick. Do you want to push or pull?”
Araceli thought it over for a moment and decided that she indeed wanted to help, but pulling would be the more laborious of the choices. She wasn’t that eager to assist. She said, “I’ll push.”
“And I’ll help her,” the man referred to as Jimbo offered.
“Thank you.” Miguel studied the man but for a moment. He nodded his consent. Then he looked back at his wife, his tone solemn. “You give a holler if you need anything. Ye hear?”
“Of course, capitán.”
Miguel roared with laughter, leaving the other two men to stare at him curiously. He forewent the opportunity to translate the word, though, concerned that they might think Araceli was poking fun at the fact that the elderly man had addressed Miguel as “captain.” Maybe she was or maybe she simply enjoyed the sound of it. At least, he certainly did. It made him wonder what it must be like to command a seafaring vessel, and decided to ask their new companion such.
“So, you’re a sailor?” he a
sked as they both made their way to the front of the wagon, leaving Araceli and Jimbo behind.
“Aye, something like that.”
Miguel reached forward and grabbed hold of one set of reins. “Well, you certainly speak like one.”
“Tis true. I sailed the seas for many years. Saw things to run the devil out of ya.” The man followed suit and grabbed hold of the other leather leads. “Plenty of things to make ye run to him as well.”
The man’s suggestion made the hair on Miguel’s neck prickle. “Uh, I guess we should count off and give it a pull. On three?”
The man nodded and shouted out with a voice that reverberated the air, “On three, Jimbo, my boy!”
“Aye!” the man called back. Then it was the old seafarer who counted off, easily slipping into the position of captain as if pulling on a worn shoe. The wagon wheel creaked in protest, but finally obeyed the demand to move and it did so, easing out of the rut like a tired horse pulled from the mire. The man’s thick hand clapped down on Miguel’s back in triumph. “There she be!”
Miguel fought the urge to tumble forward under the weight of the man’s heavy hand. The man may have looked worn from life, but he most certainly wasn’t weak. The man’s hand slid off Miguel’s back, leaving him to rub the spot where it had landed.
