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       Praise for award-winning author Carla Kelly:

      ‘A powerful and wonderfully perceptive author.’

      —New York Times bestselling author Mary Jo Putney

      ‘It is always a joy to read a Carla Kelly love story.

      Always original, always superb, Ms Kelly’s work is a timeless delight for discerning readers.’ —RT Book Reviews

      ‘Kelly has the rare ability to create realistic yet sympathetic characters that linger in the mind. One of the most respected … Regency writers.’

      —Library Journal

      ‘These two have seen each other at their best and at their worst. Have been tried and tested in the flames yet come out stronger for it.

      I certainly enjoyed the trip …’ —Dear Author on MARRYING THE ROYAL MARINE

      ‘Taking her impetus from Robinson Crusoe and the film Castaway, Kelly crafts the story of a shipwreck survivor readjusting to civilisation … Kelly presents a clear portrait of the mores and prejudices of the era, and demonstrates how to navigate through society’s labyrinth with intelligent, sharp repartee. This alone is worth the price of the book.’ —RT Book Reviews on BEAU CRUSOE

      The Major went inside, and there was Susanna Hopkins at the ticket window. He had no doubt it was her: medium height, blonde hair. He couldn’t discern her figure because of her overcoat, but she looked surprisingly tidy, considering her days on the train from Pennsylvania.

      Interested, he watched her. The station master pointed to the fare chart. Joe watched as she took another look into her wallet. The station master shrugged his shoulders, then gestured for her to move aside. She sat on the bench by the potbellied stove.

      He saw her face when she turned around and it was a sweet face, heart-shaped. Her blonde hair had a dark blaze by her temple. Gold-rimmed spectacles were perched on her nose, but they could not hide the bleakness in her eyes. He knew he was looking at a fearful woman.

      Joseph Randolph’s heart went out to the woman who sat, terrified, on a bench in the dirty stage depot. She may be divorced, but what drives a woman to this? he wondered, even as he loosened the muffler about his neck, removed his hat, and started to unbutton his greatcoat. Whatever her marital woes, Mrs Susanna Hopkins looked like she needed good news.

      About the Author

      CARLA KELLY has been writing award-winning novels for years—stories set in the British Isles, Spain, and army garrisons during the Indian Wars. Her speciality in the Regency genre is writing about ordinary people, not just lords and ladies. Carla has worked as a university professor, a ranger in the National Park Service, and recently as a staff writer and columnist for a small daily newspaper in Valley City, North Dakota. Her husband is director of theatre at Valley City State University. She has five interesting children, a fondness for cowboy songs, and too many box elder beetles in the autumn.

       Novels by the same author:

      BEAU CRUSOE

      CHRISTMAS PROMISE

      (part of Regency Christmas Gifts anthology)

MARRYING THE CAPTAIN* THE SURGEON’S LADY* MARRYING THE ROYAL MARINE* MARRIAGE OF MERCY THE ADMIRAL’S PENNILESS BRIDE

*linked by character

       Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Her Hesitant

       Heart

      Carla Kelly

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To Captain Andrew and Elizabeth Burt, Ninth Infantry.

       Prologue

      December 31, 1875

      Dearest Tommy,

      I am somewhere in Nebraska. I am told by other travelers on the Overland Express that when the sun comes up we will see Chimney Rock, that prominent landmark to settlers and gold seekers years ago.

      Be diligent in your studies. It is my fondest wish that you will do well in your schooling and be a blessing to all who know you.

      I think of you constantly and would give the earth to see you. I wish you well with all my heart.

      Love,

      Mama

      On a separate sheet she wrote,

      Frederick,

      If you have commandeered this letter like all the others, rest assured that I will continue to write to Thomas, even when I arrive at Fort Laramie. Should some spark of sympathy enter your heart, send his letters to me, care of Captain Daniel Reese, Company D, Second Cavalry, Fort Laramie, Wyoming Territory.

      Please, Frederick!

      Susanna

      Susanna Hopkins sealed the letter, and tried to make herself comfortable. Her back ached from sitting upright since she had boarded the Pennsylvania Central some days ago. Her coach ticket had been a gift from her uncle. He had not mentioned a Pullman berth and she had been too shy to ask.

      Susanna knew her relatives were relieved to send her to a place so distant that it wasn’t even a state yet. She knew her aunt was overjoyed to have her gone from the house in Shippensburg, where she had fled from Carlisle for refuge more than a year ago. Now her aunt could invite her friends into her home again, without the presence of an embarrassing niece.

      Susanna waited for the steward to turn out the lamps. Apparently the Union Pacific felt that if its less well-heeled clients could not afford a sleeper car, they should sit in the dark, contemplating the sin of poverty.

      The trip had been pleasant enough, except for her hunger. Quick stops at cook shacks along the route were designed for aggressive men who snatched pie and coffee before the train whistle blew. The last stop had found her with only a piece of corn bread. Just as well. She had no idea how much the Cheyenne-Deadwood stage would cost, once she reached Cheyenne, and she needed to save her money.

      Susanna regarded her reflection in the glass. Her eyes were only the barest outline, but she removed her spectacles and fingered the bone under her left eye, seeking out the ridge where the occipital bone had almost reconnected, leaving her with a little droop.

      “You’re lucky to have an eye, Mrs. Hopkins,” her physician had told her, prescribing a mild correction to the lens. With the lights out, she would be able to rest her eyes. It was treatment the doctor would have ordered, and apparently the Union Pacific agreed.

      Susanna turned her attention to the full moon. As her eyes accustomed themselves to the dark, she saw large, dark shapes in the near distance. She touched her cheek. I could have dodged his hand, she told herself for the hundredth time. It was the sight of Tommy, rushing to grab his father’s upraised hand, that had surprised her. Tommy, you should have stayed in bed! The blow had driven her face against the mantelpiece.

      She closed her eyes against the memory of her son’s efforts to help her, and then his cries of protest as his father carried him upstairs. It had been her last glimpse of her son. Some instinct had warned

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