cwife

 


Paperback Format coming Dec 2007

A night of too much whiskey, a wrongly-numbered hotel door, and an angry guardian force dedicated cavalry captain Chase Brooks into marriage, despite his vow never to endure another loveless marriage.   He reluctantly agrees to take his new wife with him to his remote outpost, convinced the pampered girl won't last two weeks in the harsh conditions of the southwest and will beg to be sent back east.  The one thing he didn't count on was his burning desire for his unwanted wife.

Callie Grant embraces the opportunity to start a new life far from the controlling hands of  her guardians.  Enduring the rough environment of the Indian Territories, she transforms from a timid flower into the poised, self-reliant woman she's always dreamed of being.  As her gratitude towards the captain turns to love, she resolves to break through her husband's formidable reserve and uncover the passionate, loving nature he tries to hide.

middlediv

reviews

4.5 Stars from the Historical Romance Club….Donna Dalton's The Calvary Wife is one of those sweet, heart-warming stories that don't come along very often anymore. From the moment you meet Callie, you feel for her and you cheer for her to grasp what chance offers her so she can finally have some happiness in her life. The little moments of romance between Callie and Chase are beautifully done, especially when he still hasn't consciously committed to the relationship. Once he does commit, though, life takes on a whole different meaning and you just hope things turn out the way it should for them. Reviewer: Sandra Marlow

GRADE A - The Good, The Bad, The Unread Reviews - Every once in a while you pick up a book and just a few pages in you realize you’ve found a lovely little jewel that sparkles and shines the more you read. This book is one of those for me......I’m glad I found this diamond in the rough. Ms. Dalton will continue to shine for some time to come...Sandy M

5  Angels from Fallen Angels Reviews - What begins as a typical marriage of convenience soon expands into a fresh spin on the age-old storyline. Callie and Chase are both wounded souls that reached out and grabbed my heart from the first moments….The love scenes are impassioned, the setting is richly drawn, the dialogue is appropriate for the time; all combine to make for a story that this reader finds quick to recommend. The Cavalry Wife is a book that is sure to please fans of western romance as well as romance in general.  Scarlet

Recommended Read at Joyfully Reviewed - The Calvary Wife is an intriguing blend of romance and a potential link to those in history…….I was drawn into The Calvary Wife at the very beginning and had a very hard time putting it down.  Therefore this is one of my September Recommended Reads and I look forward to other offerings from this author, especially in this genre.   Tanya

4 Roses from Romance Readers At Heart  - This is a romance filled with adventure, a story about finding love in even the    most rugged of places.....Donna Dalton has a winner with THE CAVALRY WIFE. I look forward to reading more wonderful romance from this author.  Kay James

5 Hearts from The Romance Studio - This was a wonderful book! I have previously read works by Ms. Donna Dalton and this one definitely did not disappoint…..It follows the couple who went through a myriad of problems - would love triumph in the end? I definitely was not expecting the events they encountered. Great read!  Brenda Talley

5 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies - The interactions between the characters were lively and it seemed as though there was constant excitement, which kept me captivated! Wonderfully written, THE CALVARY WIFE by Donna Dalton is an emotionally stirring romance that touches the heart and captivates with the wonderful action found in an old west setting. A definite keeper, I recommend THE CALVARY WIFE to all readers.  Anita

romanjun
joy

excerpt

Captain Chase Brooks weaved along the hotel hallway, trying to control the placement of booted feet that seemed to have a mind of their own.  Halfway down the dimly-lit corridor, he paused and leaned against the wall for support.

Christ, he never should have allowed Captain Lewis to talk him into that last drink at the Inauguration dinner.  The whiskey’s ambush on his speech should've been warning enough.

He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and pushed upright.  A door loomed before him.  Squinting, he strained to confirm the number that danced before his eyes like a wily Indian.  

Six. Finally, he’d found his room.  Propping his shoulder on the doorframe, he extracted his key and attempted to shove it into the keyhole.  

Damn, it was like trying to hit a moving target.  

His hand slipped and pressed against the knob.  The chamber door careened open.

Chase lurched inside.  Hadn’t he locked it that morning?  Evidently not.  He shook his head, then wished he hadn’t.  The room whirled sickeningly.

Bracing himself, he pushed the door shut, shrouding the room in darkness.  He took a step toward the bureau and a lamp.  The floor pitched under his feet.  

To hell with the lamp.  He needed a bed.

Hands outstretched, he stumbled across the carpet until he reached the bed. Fingers as cantankerous as his legs fumbled with buttons, buckles, and boots.  Wavering unsteadily, he managed to strip off his uniform, then slid naked under the coverlet.

Thank God, the festivities surrounding President Grant’s Inauguration were over.  He’d soon be heading back at his outpost where he belonged, not suffocating in this filthy over-crowded city.  

Welcoming the blissful oblivion of sleep, he turned on his side and melted into the warm, soft mattress.

He awoke to a woman’s shrill scream.

The sound brought him bolt upright.  A fierce pain lanced through his head, and his gut churned like a flood-swollen river.  Chase moaned and squinted against the sunlight streaming through the window.

God, was it morning, already?  Had he ever been asleep?

A sallow-face woman stood in the doorway, her expression set in a horrified mask.  “Horace," she screeched.  "Come here.”

Chase shook his head, trying to dispel the ringing in his ears and the sleepy fog in his head.  

A short, pudgy man pushed past the woman and entered the suite.  

Chase groaned.  Why the hell were these people in his room?

A soft gasp sounded next to him.  

Turning, he spied a young woman clasping the quilt under her chin.  She stared at him with whiskey-brown eyes widened in alarm.

A shudder passed through him that had nothing to do with the cool air swirling around his bared chest.  God, he didn’t remember...a girl?  That had never happened before.  He always remembered...although, he barely remembered returning to his room the night before.  Had she come with him?  

She certainly was his type, a lovely, little, raven-haired vixen with luscious lips that begged to be kissed.  Strange how he couldn’t remember tasting such sweetness.

“You strumpet.  Whore,” the rotund man bellowed from the doorway.  “Get out of that bed and go to our suite with your aunt.”

His mind still clawing toward reality, Chase watched the color drain from the young woman’s already pale face.  With a trembling hand, she tossed aside the quilt and slid out of the bed.  Her long, black hair stood out starkly against her white nightdress as she rushed barefoot across the floor, grabbed her robe, and hurried for the door.

The burly man lifted his hand as though to strike her.

Chase stiffened and prepared to leap out of bed.  Men who mistreated women were the worst sort of slime, deserving threefold the same punishment they dished out.

"Mister, you'd best not lay one finger on her," Chase growled.

The man glanced from Chase, then back to the cowering girl.  Having weighed his options, he lowered his hand and allowed the girl to pass untouched.  The two ladies disappeared into the hallway.  

Chase, relieved, eased down his shoulders and addressed the red-faced man still occupying the doorway.  

“What exactly is going on here?”

“What indeed,” the man shouted, the stabbing sound reverberating in  Chase’s throbbing head and clambering down his spine.  “How did you come to be in my niece’s room?”

Niece’s room?  “This is my room!”

“My niece’s room,” the man spluttered.

Chase glanced around.  A woman’s hat sat on the bureau.  Gowns hung in the wardrobe where his uniforms were not.  Something was wrong, unbelievably wrong.  A sinking sensation hit his already turbulent gut.  Christ, what had he gotten himself into?

“What’s going on here, Captain?”

Chase jerked his head toward the entryway as the familiar, authoritative voice rang out.  His commander entered the room.

The red-faced man, presumably the uncle of the captivating lady in his bed, waved in Chase’s direction. “This soldier has despoiled my niece.  I found them in bed together.”

Colonel Grierson glanced from Chase to the furious uncle, and back to Chase.  “That true, Captain?”  

Chase moaned, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation. He  couldn’t possibly have been that drunk.  Besides, if he had tumbled the girl, she wouldn’t still be clothed in that virginal nightgown.  

“Colonel, there’s been some mistake.  I didn’t-” Chase began.

“Mistake?” the uncle roared.  “You can be certain there’s been a mistake.  And you, Captain, made it.”

Chase suppressed the urge to leap out of the bed and throttle the arrogant fool.  Years of discipline kept him rooted in place, his face schooled into an expressionless mask.

The colonel stepped further into the room.  “Captain, can you explain-”  

“Are you aware-” the porcine man interrupted.  “That his bed partner is President Grant’s cousin?”

And suddenly the fog lifted from Chase’s drink-addled brain.  Christ, he remembered the young woman from the Inauguration dinner.  She’d slid shyly through the circle of family and friends gathered around the President.  His new Commander-in-Chief had called her “little Callie.”  

Whether he’d consorted with the lady or not, his career in the Army was over.  Chase groaned again.

“Captain Brooks.”  The colonel thinned his already taut lips.  “Dress and meet me in my room in ten minutes.  Mr..?”

“Boggs, Horace Boggs.”

“Mr. Boggs, if you’ll come with me, I’m sure we can resolve this matter without involving President Grant.”  The colonel motioned at the doorway, the brass buttons on his uniform glinting in the sunlight.  

The two men exited the room, allowing blessed silence to return.  As his commander pulled the door closed, Chase spied the numeral six swaying crookedly on the wood panel.  His gut twisted into a knot.

Good God, he was in for it now.

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