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Inheriting a Bride Paperback

3.9 out of 5 stars 7 customer reviews

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About the Author

Lauri Robinson lives in Minnesota where she and her husband spend every spare moment with their three grown sons and their families—spoiling the grandchildren. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America and Northern Lights Writers. Along with volunteering for several organizations, she is a diehard Elvis and NASCAR fan. Her favorite getaway location is along the Canadian Border of Northern Minnesota on the land homesteaded by her great-grandfather. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Northern Colorado, 1885

A variety of passengers scurried across the wooden platform of the Black Hawk depot, but only one held Clay Hoffman's attention, or better yet, his irritation. Women had a way of annoying him, and this one was in a tizzy, waving her hands, gesturing toward the train as she spouted off to Stan Thomas, the porter. Though he had no doubt the man could handle the situation, Clay moved to the depot door. Perhaps her luggage had been damaged or something. Loads had been known to shift during the ride up the mountain from Denver. That was why he was giving this woman, dressed in her canary-colored finery, the benefit of the doubt. His sister insisted he needed to do that once in a while. Therefore he was trying, but in reality, not getting too far. Old habits and all that.

"Clay?" Stan motioned for him to approach. "This is Miss Katherine Ackerman from Boston, Massachusetts."

Clay nodded, stepping closer and briefly assessing the woman, whose fancy bird-yellow outfit included a feathered hat with a lacy veil falling almost to her nose. Some might claim she deserved a second look, but he had no time for women, pretty or not, and turned his gaze to Stan, waiting to hear what the issue was.

"I'm inquiring as to the whereabouts of one Samuel Edwards," she said before Stan could speak.

Clay's insides froze as he narrowed his gaze on the little veil hiding most of Katherine Ackerman's face. "Why?"

She lifted her chin a bit higher. "That is between Mr. Edwards and me. Now if you'll be so kind as to—"

"No," Clay said. The fact she'd called Sam "mister" told him all he needed to know. The kid was barely seventeen. Anyone who knew him knew that.

"No?" she repeated. "No what?"

Clay had a dozen questions about what a woman such as this—clearly from out East, by the sound of her nasally little voice—would want with Sam, but none of them mattered. She would never meet his ward. That, of course, should be Sam's decision, but Sam liked his privacy and Clay knew women. This one even smelled like trouble—all sweet and flowery. He turned to the porter. "Was there something else she needed?"

Stan, one of the finest railroad men in the territory, hesitated and then cleared his throat. "Miss Ackerman was a bit upset by the, uh…accommodations on the ride from Denver."

What a surprise. Train rides up a mountain were very different from train rides across the plains, and those out East, no doubt. Going down wasn't any better. Judging by her appearance and attitude, this woman wouldn't be happy about anything unless it was the very best, which made Clay's spine tighten. He rerouted his thoughts.

Sam had never been out of the mountains, but the kid's father had, and a part of Clay always wondered if someone would show up, claiming to be a relative. With a single nod, Clay turned to the woman. "I apologize if your train ride was uncomfortable." It wasn't his usual policy, but she'd already wasted enough of his time. "Stan," he said to the porter, "refund the passenger's fare and give her a ticket back to Denver."

"Denver?" she all but sputtered. "I don't want a refund," she added snootily. "I want to know the whereabouts of Sam—"

"I," Clay informed her, nerves ticking, "am Sam's representative. I'll deliver a message to him for you."

"No," she said. "I prefer to talk to him in person."

"That's not possible," Clay retorted, his voice just as clipped as hers. His hackles were rising by the second. Outside of a few miners, Sam didn't interact with people much, and Clay respected that.

"Why not?"

"Are you a relative of his?" He might as well get to the bottom of it.

She swallowed but didn't answer, and the little veil made it impossible for him to see more than her chin and pert lips, which were drawn into a pucker.

Just as he suspected. A woman after the kid's money. "Sam's not a social person," he said. "If you want to give me a message—"

"No," she interrupted. "I—"

"Fine," he snapped. "Refund her money, Stan." Clay spun around and started making his way toward the other end of town. That was the second person asking about Sam in less than twenty-four hours. A message from Big Ed over at the general store had arrived this morning, saying a trapper was asking questions about Clay's ward, and now this woman turned up. The first incident wasn't too much of a surprise; Sam's father had been a trapper, and others probably wondered what had become of the boy. But a snooty woman from out East made no sense at all. The ride to Sam's place next to the Wanda Lou was a long one, and Clay had a thousand other things to do. But Sam was his responsibility, and warning him about this woman couldn't wait. Plus he had some business to follow up on, anyway—a miner causing a bit of trouble. Best to nip it in the bud. The kid didn't like taking the train, preferred to borrow a mule from the mine to haul his furs to Black Hawk, and had left town only a few hours ago.

Clay swallowed a sigh as he started up the street. Good thing he'd brought his horse with him on the train from Nevadaville this morning. The ones at the livery here were as barn sour as they came. If luck was with him, he could finish his business and still catch up to Sam before nightfall.

Kit Becker stared at the man walking away, half in utter disbelief, half in relief. Encountering Clayton Hoffman this early in her adventure was not in her plan. She wanted to meet Sam first. Had to meet Sam first. The desire to lift her veil so she could see the man more clearly, even if it was just his back, was hard to curtail, but she kept her hands at her sides. The veil was part of the disguise she needed to maintain.

"Right this way, Miss Ackerman."

It was a moment before Kit realized the porter was addressing her. She hadn't gotten used to the name. She had used the alias so her grandfather's solicitor, Mr. Watson, wouldn't learn she had left Chicago. Purchasing her ticket under a different name guaranteed a bit of time in her search for Samuel Edwards. That was another name that made her want to shake her head. Why hadn't Gramps told her about him? It just didn't make sense. Both he and Grandma Katie knew how badly she'd always wished their family was larger, and this past year, since their deaths, her loneliness had grown overwhelming and she'd wished it even more.


Turning to the man dressed in his bright blue suit with gold buttons, she sighed. "I don't want a refund. I just wanted…oh, never mind." The train ride that had left her wanting to kiss the ground was no longer a concern. Finding her only living relative was. She dug in the drawstring bag on her wrist, pulled out a coin to hand to the man. "I apologize, sir, for the fuss, but I'm fine now. Would you be so kind as to see my luggage is taken to the hotel?"

"Yes, ma'am, but Mr. Hoffman said—"

"I am not concerned about Mr. Hoffman, or his refund." She spun around and stepped off the platform, wondering where to start her search. All she knew was that Gramps had traveled to Black Hawk. Her eyes, practically of their own accord, turned in the direction Clay Hoffman had taken. He most definitely knew where Samuel Edwards was.

"Did I hear you say you want to see Sam Edwards?"

Somewhat startled, and cautious, since the gruff voice had the hair on her arms standing up, Kit turned slowly. The man who'd stepped up beside her was huge and covered from head to toe in animal skins. She swallowed.

"I'm a friend of his," the burly man said. "Saw him just a few hours ago."

Kit willed herself not to shiver. People just looked different here from how they did in Chicago, she told herself. At least this one did. "Could you tell me where I might find him?" she asked, flinching at how her voice cracked.

"He headed back to Nevadaville."

She couldn't help but glance at the train. Embarking on another ride up the side of that mountain was the last thing she wanted to do. She'd seen how easy it would have been for the entire locomotive to fall over the edge, tumble end over end down into the ravine. Gramps had never mentioned how treacherous the train rides were out here. The journey from Chicago had been fun, but not long after the locomotive had rolled past the fancy homes bordered by tall shade trees, and the rows of manufacturing buildings of Denver—the moment they'd started to chug uphill—the trip had become quite nightmarish, downright nerve-racking. Not right at first. To the west she'd seen Pike's Peak, boldly crowning the mountain range with regal glory. The sight had left her breathless, but then the train had crossed a bridge. Not a bridge like they'd crossed before, but a bridge. With nothing but emptiness below it. She could still hear the echoing rumble that had bounced off the mountainsides and sent her scrambling away from the window.

The way the train rocked and rolled on the narrow tracks, she'd half wondered if the metal wheels would bounce right off the rails and the whole thing, herself included, barrel down the mountain slopes that fell away on both sides. She'd tried to keep her gaze averted from the scenes outside, but something kept making her sneak peeks at the landscape, which varied from deep gulches to steep inclinations covered in pines and spruces and reaching thousands of feet into the air. Reading the bills advertising a list of shows available at Nevadaville's newly built opera house—everything from single magicians to full performances of Hamlet—had been a pleasant diversion. A necessary diversion. For each quick glance out the window had left her insi... --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.


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Product Details

  • Paperback
  • Publisher: Mills & Boon; Library ed edition
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0263898164
  • ISBN-13: 978-0263898163
  • Product Dimensions: 4.2 x 0.9 x 7 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 6.4 ounces
  • Average Customer Review: 3.9 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (7 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #9,582,217 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Customer Reviews

Top Customer Reviews

Format: Mass Market Paperback
"Inheriting the Bride" is a pleasant read. This is the first time I've read a Harlequin Western. I enjoyed it, but it took me a week to finish this story. At first the storyline was not as interesting and compelling as I had thought it would be. I had to force myself to keep going. I finally finished it. And I'm glad I did.

Author Lauri Robinson has done a fine job writing this light and airy tale about Kit Becker. She's a lovely young lonely orphan living in Chicago alone since her Grandparents died, leaving her sad and hungering for family. Through her Grandpa's solicitor she discovers she has one (before unknown), family member living in far away Colorado. She finds an old ticket stub to Black Hawk, Colorado in a book among her Grandpa's books. Viewing this as a sign, she decides to go there to find the man she believes might be a relation to her. She is tired of being alone. She arrives in Colorado and meets handsome Clay Hoffman, who may turn out to be the man of her dreams. And Sam, the relation she's been hoping for.

This is a well paced, but at times choppy story with many humorous events (like: when Kit dresses up in disguise as a boy to fool Clay), and a few exciting ones (a gold mine caves in), as well. This is a remarkably clean romance. I almost thought while reading this story that the author wasn't going to have any intimate scenes between her two romantic lead characters. Then finally near the end she restored my faith in her by ending the story with two sweet fairly clean scenes.

This book is a nice read, but not a keeper for me. Recommended to anyone who likes sweet, lightweight romances. Enjoy!

Grade: C+
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I started this book and couldn't put it down. The characters evolve and the authors descriptive approach allows you to feel as if you know them personally for years. When I was reading, it felt as if I was on a vacation - I was somewhere else, watching and feeling the story. It was GreAT and I will be purchasing everything she's written. One of the few that once I'm hooked, I'm hooked.
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This is a nice mail order bride story, but no excitement or " zing". Read it if you like mail order bride books.
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If you don't want to know other readers' opinion do not read reviews. Read the book, form your own opinion and accept and respect other readers' opinion then write your own review. With that said, RT rated this story with 4 out of 4 1/2 stars. This story, in my opinion, is your typical dull story with very little story to it with really low conflict, written with very little color with sweet, dull people, who never want to hurt anyone's feelings and seldom have an angry thought--much less act on their anger. The thin mystery of the story (what relationship Sam is to Kit) is drawn out unnecessarily making the plot all the weaker. Everyone in Nevadaville knows Sam. All Kit has to do is ask around, and bam, mystery is over. Instead, the story flounders for the first 126 plus pages, hoping the readers won't notice and stick around. Well, guess what?
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