Enchanted

By Kianna Alexander

In pre-Civil War America, the small town of Graham, in Adams County, Pennsylvania, lies just north of the Mason Dixon line. There are many secrets surrounding the town’s founding, but its mission is clear: to be a haven for citizens of all races.
These erotic tales explore the blossoming love of three couples, during a time of upheaval and uncertainty. Meet the men who will risk everything to protect the women they love: The Passionate Protectors.

Enchanted
A run-in with a mountain cat has trapper Carter Thibedaux ready to leave his adventurous career behind for safer pursuits. Arriving in his aunt and uncle’s hometown, the dark beauty Miss Deidre LaRue captures his heart. Discovering that she’s the town’s madam doesn’t change his feelings. But can a woman like Diedre fit into his new, “stable” life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Jun 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094440132

Kianna Alexander

Kianna Alexander wears many hats: doting mother, advice dispensing sister, and voracious reader. The author of more than twenty novels, she currently lives in her home state of North Carolina.

Book preview

ENCHANTED

Kianna Alexander

BRYANT STREET PUBLISHING

Dedication

For the ancestors, who loved in spite of it all.

www.AuthorKiannaAlexander.com

Chapter One

Town of Graham, Adams County, Pennsylvania

January 1850

Deidra LaRue lifted the voluminous skirts of her bronze-colored satin gown and black wool cloak and stepped inside of the small building that served as the offices of both the mayor and the sheriff. She closed the door behind her, shutting out the gust of cold wind that tried to follow her in. The hardwood floors felt a bit grainy beneath her low-heeled slippers, likely from the dust that had blown in from outside during the warmer months. Even with winter holding the town in an icy grip, the grit remained; it was nearly impossible to sweep out three seasons worth of dirt.

She hadn’t been inside the building in many years, not since she’d first opened the gentleman’s club and come to bail out one of her girls.  A customer who enjoyed her services hadn't didn’t feel inclined to pay, and the girl had stabbed him. Deidre thought it an understandable response. Now, she had business with the town council. They’d summoned her for some sort of meeting and, since she’d never been invited to a council meeting in the nine years she’d owned the club, she didn’t expect the news to be good.

The interior of the place hadn’t changed much. She swept her gaze over the flagpoles mounted to the log wall above the inside of the door, displaying the United States, Pennsylvania, and Graham flags. Across from that was the town’s Founder’s Wall, on which hung the portraits of the ten founding citizens of the settlement. Her mother’s portrait was among them and Deidra’s gaze lingered on the lovely face of the woman she missed so dearly.

Beneath the portraits was a wood and glass box that held the original signed copy of the town charter. The sheaves of paper were still in good condition considering they’d been drawn up more than a quarter of a century before.

The glass paned window facing the street allowed what little sunlight there was to shine in. Sheriff Percy Farnsworth reclined behind the desk. His feet, crossed at the ankles, were propped up on his desk, and his flat crowned hat lay over his face. Removing the hood of her cloak, Deidra cleared her throat and waited.

He awoke with a start, the hat falling to the floor as he jerked upright. Grabbing up the hat, the red-faced Percy smiled. Morning, Miss LaRue. Sorry about that.

She gave a dismissive wave. As quiet as things are in Graham, I’m not going to fuss at you for taking a little nap.

Thanks. The council’s waiting for you in the back. He gestured to the narrow hallway beyond his desk. Last room on the left.

Thank you, Sheriff. She went around the desk and down the hall, passing the three cells used to detain the accused, until she came to the open door of a large meeting room. Inside, nine sets of eyes focused on her. Sighing, she entered the room and stood near the door, waiting.

Mayor Regina Farnsworth, her lips tight, stood from her seat at the head of the long wooden table. The daughter of the town’s namesake founder and aunt of the current sheriff, Regina presented as a serious, unyielding figure. Thank you for coming, Miss LaRue. We won’t take up too much of your time.

Deidra noticed she wasn’t offered a seat, as she’d expected. She folded her arms over her chest, then rested her back against the wall just inside the door. She knew full well why she was being denied the most basic of courtesy—most of the council members considered her nothing more than an old whore. All right, let’s get on with it. I know you don’t want my presence sullying you too much longer.

Martin Johnson, the town treasurer, cleared his throat. Well, we wanted to let you know that the land you’re currently occupying for your, uh, business has been sold.

She looked at him, eyes narrowed. Excuse me, Mr. Johnson? I must have misheard you.

Martin loosened his collar and looked away from her. I said, your land has been sold. We’ll need you and your, er, employees to vacate the premises within a week’s time.

Hot blood rushed to her cheeks and tears stung her eyes. Do you mean to tell me my land has been sold right from up under me? How can that be? I own that land and the house outright and no one consulted me on the matter!

Regina spoke up. There was no need. The town charter clearly states that houses of vice, such as saloons and bordellos, are subject to closure and seizure by a simple majority vote of the town council. We voted this morning. She sat back down in her chair, folding her hands on the table in front of her and displaying a smug expression.

Anger and disbelief coursed through Deidra. And you all voted to shut me down and throw me out of my home, I reckon. Deidra shook her head at the traitorous behavior of these people who she considered her friends and neighbors.

I voted in your favor, dear. The aged Yardley Thibedeaux raised her hand.

As did I, echoed the town’s doctor, Jonathan Doyle. I don’t agree with the council’s decision, but I’m afraid we were outvoted.

She wanted to weep but would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break down. Instead, she bit her lip and closed her eyes against the pain for a moment. When she’d composed herself, she asked, Why now? Why after nearly ten years have you suddenly decided to do this?

Simple. A man named Aaron Wilson, of Philadelphia, purchased the land to open a hotel. Martin’s beady eyes glinted as his lips curled into a smile. He offered quite a hefty sum for your land.

Why my land? Was there no other piece of land in the whole of Adams County, or the entire state of Pennsylvania that was even a little more desirable?

He insisted on your tract. We don’t know why. Richard Thibedeaux, Yardley’s husband and the owner of the town’s livery, added his voice to the conversation. Try not to take it personally, Miss LaRue. Think of all the improvements we can make to the town with this influx of funds.

You’ll receive a tenth of the fund from the sale, so you won’t be left with nothing. Regina’s cold tone said much about her opinion of her.

Deidra looked around the room at these people, the same people she’d come here with as a girl to establish this township. It was supposed to have been founded on the principles of acceptance, inclusion, and freedom. Now, she could clearly see that those principles only applied to the people the council deemed worthy. She thought of Lorna, Suzanne, and Nanette, who would also be left without a home. Her girls were like sisters to her, and she was concerned for their welfare. Where will they go? How will they support themselves?

She couldn’t stand another moment in this room full of judgmental hypocrites. Dr. Doyle, Mrs. Thibedeaux, I sincerely thank you for voting in my favor. She offered the two of them a small smile, then lifted the hood of her cloak. Without another word, she sailed out of the room, and she didn’t stop until she was back outside.

There, with the bitter cold of the gray January day swirling around her, she sat on the edge of the walk and let the tears fall.

CARTER THIBEDEAUX DROVE slowly through the center of town, mindful of the heavy load his gelding, Smoke, was pulling. The buckboard’s bed was filled with all his most necessary possessions—clothing, tack, dishes, and the like. It had been an arduous journey from Indian Territory, but he’d finally arrived in Graham and was looking forward to the hospitality and good cooking of his aunt and uncle. He pulled his woven poncho tighter around his neck, hoping to ward off the cold bite of the air. Beneath the poncho, he’d donned his long coat over his denims and plaid shirt, but a small chill still managed to graze his chin and neck.

He gazed around at the sights of the quaint town from beneath the brim of his hat. A light snow was swirling about, and a few people were scurrying by on the plank walks bordering either side of the street. He saw no other vehicles on the street, but he did see a few people go by on horseback. It was nearly lunch time, yet it was so quiet he could hear the crunching of the frozen ground beneath his wagon wheels. Obviously, Graham was nowhere near as populated as Fontanelle’s Post, or some of the other cities he’d passed through on his journey, and that was fine with him. He’d come here to start over and in a town like this, he could grow right along with it.

Back home, he’d made a comfortable living as a trapper, with a pretty good trading relationship with both the tribes in the area and the whites making their way west to seek their fortunes. Still, he’d had his fill of frostbite and of braving