MEET THE HARVEY GIRLS
These real-life pioneering women were symbols of elegance in the wild frontier: taming rough manners, falling in love, and changing the face of the West forever.
Grace Rogers is ready for the adventure of a lifetime. With her family’s farm falling on hard times, she accepts a position with the prestigious Fred Harvey Company and heads for Juniper, New Mexico. There she meets a handsome cowboy who quickly turns her head. Too bad the Harvey Girls are forbidden to marry...
Nick Hopkins has a plan: buy a little land, marry, and raise a family—in that order. But after meeting Grace, he can’t keep away. Their only choice is to marry in secret...but Nick isn’t the only man entranced by Grace’s charms, and this unexpected rival doesn’t plan on taking no for an answer. He will have her, no matter the cost: to Grace, to Juniper, or to the happily ever after Grace and Nick fought so hard to make their own.
Excerpt
She glanced at him, saw his lips quirk in what might be a smile and then turn his attention to the window. His skin was tanned to a burnished gold except for a lighter stripe across his forehead. His head was probably usually protected—her father had the same line on his face for the same reason—though in the cowboy’s case, it would have been by that black hat on the seat next to him. His thick, chocolate-colored hair kept falling over his forehead even though he repeatedly brushed it back with his fingers. He needed a shave, but there was something appealing about the stubble of whiskers. He was tall; that much was evidenced by the fact that even when occupying a seat meant for two, he seemed to need more space. He had broad shoulders that stretched the limits of the dark-gray sack coat he wore. The tan cotton shirt underneath it was in need of a good ironing. His trousers were a dark brown and his boots black, with fancy tooling.
“Do I pass inspection?” he asked, jarring her back to reality—and the realization that she had been studying every inch of him.
Her cheeks grew warm and red. “I…”
He waved away any excuse she might offer. “Look, Miss…” He waited.
“Rogers,” she said, her voice cracking. “Grace Rogers.” She saw no harm in giving him her name, and she didn’t want to be rude.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Rogers.” He hesitated, then added, “Like Ollie said, I’m Nick Hopkins. I wonder if you would do me the honor of joining me for supper?”
The offer was more tempting than it should have been. She had looked forward to dining in a real Harvey eatery, but even though her first-class ticket included meals, having dinner with this stranger—even paying her own way—simply would not do. “I have food with me. Apples and cheese and some bread.” She nodded reluctantly toward the carpetbag and the sack of food inside it that Miss Culver had given her at the station.
“But did you ever eat in a Harvey House, Miss Rogers?” he asked.
“Yes. In Kansas City.” She took pleasure in his surprise. He probably saw her as some country bumpkin. She straightened her back and shoulders and met his gaze directly for the first time. “You see, I work for the organization.” She flashed the practiced smile she’d developed in training.
His return smile took her breath away. How could any man be this good-looking? She felt her cheeks begin to turn pink, but she shook off the attraction. She had no time for flirting. She was on her way to a job, a new life that would hopefully provide adventure for her and much-needed financial assistance for her family.
Still, she couldn’t help but cast him a quick look from beneath her lashes.
“Well now,” he drawled. “In that case, it seems to me it would be to your advantage to try as many of Mr. Harvey’s establishments as possible. You could look at things from the customer’s view and see how the one we’ll be stopping at soon is different from the one where you’ll be working.”
“Oh, there are no differences, Mr. Hopkins,” she replied, parroting the information she’d absorbed during her training. “At least not when it comes to service and quality of food. Our organization adheres to the same standards no matter where we are. It’s the Harvey way.” As the train pulled into the station, Grace pressed her hands over her skirt. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. Hopkins,” she said brightly.
