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In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances
In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances
In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances
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In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances

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A Ghost Controls Their Fate - A woman from Boston goes off to be the bride to a Colorado farmer and rancher, but has no clue that the farmer is under the control of a long dead young woman’s ghost, who subjects her to many acts of humiliation and trickery.

A Delicate Dancing Angel For The Tough Texas Cowboy - A former ballet dancer from England becomes a mail order bride to a Texas rancher and a caretaker for his young daughter; but when she arrives she realizes that the hot and dry weather may be her undoing.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateJul 14, 2016
ISBN9781365257773
In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances

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    In the Meadow of Love - Vanessa Carvo

    In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances

    In the Meadow of Love: A Pair of Historical Romances

    By

    Vanessa Carvo

    Copyright 2016 Quietly Blessed & Loved Press

    A Ghost Controls Their Fate

    Synopsis: A Ghost Controls Their Fate - A woman from Boston goes off to be the bride to a Colorado farmer and rancher, but has no clue that the farmer is under the control of a long dead young woman’s ghost, who subjects her to many acts of humiliation and trickery.

    Wednesday, July 12, 1876

    Boston, MA--Afternoon

    Home of Brea and Bently Marcom

    Socialite Elyn Marcom parent's Tudor house held the stillness and quietness of a funeral. Twenty-year old, blue eyed, black hair Elyn's paced the silk-carpeted floor. She wore a black Edwardian suit, skirt and puff sleeve jacket and white blouse. No one died. Not exactly. Her mom, Brea, and dad, Bently, sat together on their favorite Colonial couch, a gift from a descendent of Thomas Jefferson.

    Elyn's debutante ball, two years ago, lingered foremost in her mind. Dancing. Smiling. Happiness. As was the custom, she danced with several eligible men. Being overweight mattered little because she had wealth, her own wealth in silver stocks. How glorious those days were. How confident and secure she felt. She didn't need to get married. It was too early.

    When twenty-two or twenty-three Elyn planned to tie the knot to some handsome Boston socialite. She loved new things and putting all her savings in silver was new. These silver investments, through York Zwolski, and bolstered by Treasury minted silver dollar coins secured her fortune and plans, or so she thought.

    A bill was introduced in Congress two years ago to continue the free silver business making people all over in the mining states of Colorado, Arizona, California and others very rich. York's voice raddled nervously when he called one week ago to tell her something important, Monday, July 10. He hadn't called, but surprised them today by showing up at the family's afternoon tea ritual.

    Elyn thought she was one of those very rich people. Only now as golden flecks of light danced in her blue eyes whenever she crossed back in front of their door-size, vertical-grained framed living room windows, she knew her fortune changed for the worse. Her portly, lawyer dressed financial advisor shuffled through papers separating Elyn's fortunes from her parents, Brea, her mom and Bently, her dad's.

    Fresh peaches sitting in a golden serving bowl sat on the living room table. Elyn wished her thoughts turned peaches into gold nuggets. She’d cash them in at the Massachusetts New Bank right away.

    Goodness, York, How could you not tell me? Leaving me to believe I was one, an overweight wealthy young lady; two, a twenty-year old young lady with no marriage prospects; three, in need of no marriage prospects because I could afford my own education; four, I didn't need to learn about my investments myself and five, that my financial advisor behaved in an honest and forthright fashion.

    Ruin your coming out party, York Zwolski replied in an emotionally torn, apologetic manner. He wore a white beard and no mustache. You're not the only debutante or beau without silver wealth now, you know.

    He dressed like a lawyer in gray suits and hated his farm life roots. He stood six feet, tall and had dark gray hair.

    Goodness, York! Goodness! All this before her twenty-first birthday coming up on August 1, and Elyn wanted to scream. She turned her head and faced out the large windows draped by a white gauze curtains decorated by a large bouquet of white lace flowers. The colorful flowers of her parent’s garden peaceful, serene, nothing like the seething rage threatening to overflow outside of Elyn and directed at York Zwolski.

    York's overweight figure helped to mold his image of someone solid and stable, even well fed. I diversified your holdings in the Vienna Stock Market. Nervous sweat broke out over York's thin lips.

    Of course, of course, York tried to protect your savings, Elyn, her dad offered.

    Elyn stopped pacing again. She ignored her dad. He didn't lose her life savings, York Zwolski lost it. And that market just as we know, crashed as well--to tell it like it is.

    Silver-silver is traditionally a good investment. If the treasury would just mint more silver dollars, he defended, shifting uneasily in the slightly too small lounge chair adjacent to Elyn's parents on the couch.

    It's not so simple, Elyn. Railroads took out short-term loans. Investors began to doubt their worth, prices weakened. Railroads kept laying track while short-term lending rates went skyrocketed across the Atlantic, too.

    York turned to Bently and Bera. Even railroad financier Jay Cooke nearly lost his shirt--"

    Elyn angrily interrupted York, I don't see Cyrus McCormick, John D. Rockefeller or Andrew Carnegie closing shop. They're expanding. Socialites who know them call and tell me so, on our phone. Elyn pointed to the small black standing rotary phone on its own divan in the living room, near the hallway.

    They're giving people credit; they're buying out competitors at fire sale prices; they've large enough capital reserves to finance their continued growth.

    Elyn's dad added, Smaller factories, workshops and businesses shuttered their doors. I've talked to them. Tens of thousands of workers former good Civil War soldiers carry the title transients. Of course, of course, they want to sue someone. Sit down, Elyn.

    Brea reminded one of a schoolteacher who lost her strictness in the joy of instructing her charges. Dear, you've heard the terms tramp and bum, bandied around. They're talking about former soldiers. You are not alone.

    This is the big one Elyn, York continued less pressured, knowing Bently and Brea understood the extra ordinary circumstances. European silver, steel markets went south. Hundreds of banks have closed since September 1873. The panic may go on for another two or three years."

    Dear, you're hardly all that depressed. Willowy Brea Marcom's hay colored hair contrasted against her night-colored eyes. She took a sip of her tea. You've got some good prospects.

    Her dad added stoically, And we'll support you until you find someone.

    Dear, there's Charles, the engineer, who works on bridges for one.

    Dull Charles. The-the chap who never gives to charity. Elyn's face gave an astonishing look of as if to say, you must be joking to her mom. ''Mom, you know I was preparing to be a philanthropist. I- want, I- want to establish a settlement house to help the poor here in Boston, Massachusetts. Only now, with the silver panic, I’d have to live in that settlement house--right York!"

    Elyn wanted her long straight black hair off her neck. She reached behind her back, twisting her hair and coiled a shiny, smooth black hair in a smooth knot high on her head. Often, Elyn touched her white cameo on a black background and band around her neck. She believed this directed attention to her most attractive assets her pretty oval face, blue eyes and black hair. As for the rest of her five feet, seven triangular figure, a fashion stylist from Lady Godby's told Elyn to wear black. Black slimmed

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