Today is the release day for A Joyful Ring!
I am so excited for you to experience this first book in the new Silver Bell Sweethearts series.
A rugged freighter, a hopeful dreamer, and a Christmas they’ll never forget.
In 1876, Gunder Birke leaves the daily struggle of Pittsburgh behind, determined to build a better life in the rough-and-tumble mining town of Lovely, Oregon. Hired as a freighter to haul dangerous explosives for the local mine, Gunder faces ongoing danger—but nothing as treacherous as the risk to his heart when he meets the beautiful and spirited Risa Hoffman.
After losing her mother and siblings, Risa has spent most of her life on the move with her father, never knowing what it means to have a real home. When she convinces him to settle in Lovely, the remote, uninviting town is far from the idyllic refuge she imagined. Still, Risa pours her hopes into building a future, working at the boardinghouse while dreaming of a finding a husband who can offer stability and comfort.
But when Gunder’s steady kindness and quiet strength awaken feelings she never expected, Risa must choose between the security she’s always longed for and the love that rings true in her heart.
As snow begins to fall across the rugged Oregon landscape, two souls discover that sometimes the most beautiful gifts come wrapped in hope, faith, and the promise of love.
A Joyful Ring is the first book in the wholesome holiday Silver Bell Sweethearts series.
July 1876
Eastern Oregon
“Thank you kindly, Charlie. I sure appreciate the ride.” Gunder Birke shook hands with the wiry man holding the reins to the team of hulking horses, then swung off the big wagon that had carried him the past few weeks of his journey.
Puffs of dust rose from his feet when he landed on the dirt road and lifted a hand in parting.
Charlie tipped his head to the right. “Just follow that trail and it will take you straight to Lovely.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” Gunder stepped back and watched as the man snapped the lines and continued on his way to Baker City with a load of freight. From what Charlie had said, Baker City was a booming place, serving as a hub of commerce to all the smaller mining towns in the area. Maybe someday Gunder would walk there, since it was a short distance up the road.
Today, though, he was eager to reach his destination of Lovely, Oregon.
Gunder took a folded newspaper clipping from his pocket and read the advertisement he’d come across in an old newspaper he’d caught as it had blown past him on a blustery November day last fall. The advertisement for a town in Eastern Oregon he’d never heard of promised “Lovely is a lovely place to find your fortune and future.”
It seemed the newly established mining town was seeking residents as well as men willing to work in the mine. Gunder didn’t know a thing about mining or life in the West, but he had a strong back and a willingness to learn. He mourned having missed the big gold rushes of previous decades, but his adventurous spirit liked the idea of mining something of value from the earth.
Besides, a town named Lovely had to be a pretty place to live. Although, when he’d questioned Charlie about it, the man had cackled so hard, he might have laid an egg if he’d been a chicken.
Gunder couldn’t imagine a town named Lovely would be anything like some of the ugly, scarred-earth places they’d passed through on their way from Idaho to Baker City.
Regardless, anything seemed better than spending his life like his father, laboring long, endless hours in a Pittsburgh steel mill. Emil Birke would never complain, but Gunder knew his father was tired of the work. Tired of never getting ahead. Tired of the cough he couldn’t shake and the ache in his back that made him look like a stooped old man, even though he wasn’t yet fifty.
It was a good thing Gunder’s sisters were now old enough to help their mother, Minna, with her business of taking in mending. It seemed there were plenty of snobby folks with more money than sense in Pittsburgh who were willing to pay a skilled seamstress such as Minna to mend tears or alter seams. Amalia and Anna had been trained at their mother’s knee and could wield a needle almost as skillfully as Minna.
Gunder returned the advertisement to his pocket and smiled, thinking of his younger sisters and hoping they both behaved with school out for the summer.
He removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow on the dusty sleeve of his shirt before shifting the bag he carried so it rode higher on his shoulder. After he settled his hat back in place, he turned and started down the road toward Lovely. According to Charlie, it was only a few miles and an easy walk through the sagebrush-dotted hills. Gunder intended to press a piece or two of sagebrush and mail it to his sisters. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen or smelled. He broke off a piece of the plant and rolled it between his fingers, breathing deeply of the sharp scent.
Despite the heat beating down on him from the searing July sky and the dust swirling around his feet with each step, he filled his lungs. He’d spent his entire life in Pittsburgh and never knew air could be so clean and pure, or the sky so richly blue.
He tilted his head back and looked up, watching a few lazy clouds drift by as he continued on his way.
Sweat ran like a river down his back and dripped into his eyes, but he kept walking. He hoped to reach Lovely in plenty of time to figure out a place to stay, and perhaps even inquire about work. He didn’t particularly want to work in the mine, but he was willing to do whatever was needed to secure his place in the growing town.
When he’d first happened upon the advertisement, he’d ripped the page out of the newspaper, stuffed it into his coat pocket, and finished his shift at the livery where he’d worked since he’d finished his schooling at fourteen. He’d been as green as a spring ear of corn when it came to working with horses and the fancy carriages Mr. Adamson kept at the livery, but the man had given him a chance, paid him fairly, and taught Gunder everything he knew about horses.
The one thing he might miss about being in Pittsburgh was getting in daily rides on the incredible horses stabled at the livery. Gunder smirked. Regardless of his love of horses, he would not miss cleaning out stalls or carriages, or polishing tack and harnesses to a high shine.
Gunder shifted the pack he carried, then stopped when a rattling sound yanked his attention to the left side of the road.
A fat diamondback snake coiled on the rock where it had likely been sunning itself and shook the rattles of its tail in warning.
“Don’t worry. I have no interest in aggravating you, snake,” Gunder said softly, slowly moving away while keeping his eye on the reptile. His nerves remained taut until he was well out of striking distance.
He owed his thanks to Charlie for educating him about the various snakes and creepy-crawlies that inhabited this region. Thanks to the man’s lessons, Gunder knew which ones were deadly and which were harmless.
Gunder glanced around, uncertain how, exactly, to describe the landscape. Sagebrush and dried grass that might have been green back in the spring covered rolling hills, but there were also towering rocks that looked like insurmountable mountains and random trees Charlie had said were junipers.
The sun felt as though it might broil his skin as Gunder walked up a hill. He stopped before he reached the crest and took a drink of water from the canteen he carried. It wasn’t cold, but at least it washed away the dust coating his tongue.
“It can’t be much further,” he said to himself, hoping Charlie hadn’t sent him down the wrong road. Then again, the freighter had been kind and helpful, offering Gunder a ride in exchange for his help caring for the horses. To Gunder, it seemed as though he’d gotten the better end of the bargain, but he certainly hadn’t voiced his opinions.
At the top of the hill, Gunder gaped at the sight of the small, thrown-together town in the valley between two hills. To the right of where the road made a T was a mine. An assortment of buildings had been erected in a cleared area, but a massive building constructed into the hill grabbed his attention. He could see men moving like ants around it, and from the noise bellowing from the building, he assumed it had to be the mine. To the left of the mine, a tent city looked as dusty and dirty as he felt. Past the tents were a dozen shacks on either side of a dusty road that must have served as the street. Beyond the shacks, in the town, were a handful of buildings that appeared sturdy enough to survive a strong wind.
If the rough, rugged town was indeed Lovely, he concluded someone had been a terrible liar. There wasn’t a single redeeming quality that he could see about the town, at least from where he stood. Not a thing about the ugly place could be even remotely considered lovely.
Resigned to trudging onward because it was too late in the day to start out for Baker City, Gunder strolled down the hill. He had a little money left from his journey, but wasn’t sure he wanted to spend it on a room, even if a hotel or boardinghouse existed in the primitive community.
As he drew nearer, a large hand-painted sign fastened to a tall post read “Welcome to Lovely.”
At least he hadn’t gotten lost on his way here.
Disappointment rolled over Gunder as he made his way onto the town’s only street, if it could be called such. He stood looking at the mine to his right and the tents to his left. Perhaps landing a job should be his first matter of business.
He turned and headed toward the mine. The closer he got, the louder the noise grew. He started up what appeared to be a hundred steps of the building that towered into the sky from the base of the hill. Halfway up, letters painted on a door indicated the office. Gunder took a moment to brush at the dust coating him from head to foot, slap it off his hat, and wipe his face on a handkerchief that was already so wet and dirty he doubted it did a lick of good.
With a fortifying breath, he pushed open the door and stepped into a room that held a stove for heat, a wide desk with a chair on each side of it, and maps tacked to the walls between the windows that offered views in three directions. A long table held more maps and lumps of what he assumed had to be ore.
A middle-aged man with beefy arms and a long scar that ran from the corner of his eye down to his chin lifted his head and glanced up from his bent-over position at the table where he was studying a map. Although he was several inches shorter than Gunder, the stocky man appeared as though he was someone who could hold his own in a fight.
“Can I help you, stranger?” the man asked in a voice that was just short of friendly.
Gunder held his hat in his hand and nodded politely. “I want to inquire about a job, sir.”
“You new in town?” the man asked, turning so he leaned against the table.
Gunder nodded. “Yes, sir. Just walked into town a few moments ago. I’m Gunder Birke.” He stepped forward with his hand extended in greeting.
“Robert Goodwin, manager of the mine,” the man said, shaking Gunder’s hand in a grip that was firm, but not uncomfortably so. “Where are you from, son?”
“Pittsburgh.”
Mr. Goodwin grinned as his bushy black eyebrows hiked upward. “Pittsburgh? As in Pennsylvania?”
Gunder nodded. “That’s right. Born and raised there.”
“What did you do for work?” Mr. Goodwin asked, crossing his ankles and studying Gunder.
“I was employed at a livery for eight years. I have a letter from Mr. Adamson, my employer, if you’d like to read it.”
“I would, but first tell me why you came to Lovely, and what makes you want to work at the Juniper Point Mine?”
Gunder swung the pack off his back and set it by his feet. “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life working at the livery, not that I don’t love working with horses. Mr. Adamson was a fair and good employer, far better than most. But I want more for my life, and I didn’t see any opportunities to pursue back home. When I came across an advertisement for Lovely, it stirred my sense of adventure. I don’t know a thing about mining, sir, but I am a fast learner and a hard worker.”
“Well, that’s good, because you’ll need to be both of those things if you work here.” Mr. Goodwin held out his hand. “Let’s see that letter you mentioned.”
Gunder took out the letter, which was tucked into an envelope that looked the worse for wear after his journey across the country by train, then stage, and on foot when he decided the stage fare was far more costly than he’d anticipated. Charlie had found him walking along the road and had taken pity on him, giving him a ride on the last leg of the journey.
Mr. Goodwin read the letter, folded it, and handed it back to Gunder. “Do you have a horse and wagon with you?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Goodwin’s eyebrows raised again, looking like caterpillars inching upward. “How in tarnation did you get here?”
“I took the train as far as I could into Utah, then the stage into Idaho. I started walking when I feared running short of funds, and a freight wagon driver gave me a ride as far as the fork in the road a few miles back. He was headed to Baker City. Is it really only ten miles from here?”
“Yep. It is.” Mr. Goodwin nodded for emphasis, then pointed toward the window that faced the road. “Six days a week, we run wagons back and forth to Baker City, hauling out what the mine produces and hauling back supplies. Do you think you could handle a freight wagon?”
Gunder shrugged and hefted his pack to his shoulder. “Charlie let me drive his quite a bit. I didn’t have any trouble, but I’ve never driven a wagon that big in a busy city. I have driven carriages and small wagons around Pittsburgh, but that’s different than a freight wagon.”
Another nod from Mr. Goodwin. “Mr. Adamson seemed to think you were a fair hand with horses. Tell you what we’ll do. I’m short a freighter and need someone dependable, and nobody here at the mine seems interested in the job. Tomorrow, I’ll have you ride with Lars Hoffman, one of the freighters, just to get a feel for things. If Lars has good things to say and you think you can do the work, we’ll talk about making you the newest Juniper Point Mine freighter. If you decide this isn’t what you want to do, or Lars doesn’t think you can handle the work, he’ll leave you in Baker City, and we’ll call it even. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, sir. More than fair.” Gunder shook Mr. Goodwin’s hand again. “Is there somewhere in town I can stay the night?”
Mr. Goodwin walked with him outside and pointed to the rows of tents in the distance. “Most of our miners live in those tents. It’s not bad in the spring or fall, but in the summer, you feel like you’re about to bake, or freeze to death in the winter. The last one to the far left is empty. You can stay there tonight if you like.”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodwin. Where should I report in the morning, and what time?”
“Be ready to go at five. I’ll let Lars know to watch for you. The freight wagons are loaded over there.” Mr. Goodwin pointed to a spot at the base of the hill. “You can meet him there, but don’t be late.”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodwin.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You still need to prove you’re worth hiring.” The man grinned again and slapped him on the shoulder. “If you’re hungry, the cookhouse serves supper at six. I’ll let the cook know to make an extra lunch for you and give it to Lars in the morning.”
“Thank you, sir.” Gunder tipped his head and hustled down the steps until he was back on the road. He glanced at the tents as he walked past them. Most had the sides rolled up to allow air to blow beneath the thick canvas. The furnishings varied, but most of them held a small cot for a bed. Some had a chair. Others had stacked crates that were used for tables or storage. A few even had small stoves.
While the heat was certainly not needed now, he could only imagine the necessity of the stoves when cold weather set in. One thing Gunder hated was to be cold. Once his feet got cold, the rest of him quickly followed. If he did end up staying in the homely town of Lovely, he’d have to start saving his money for a stove, boots that would keep his feet dry, and more clothes than the two shirts and pair of pants he had in his pack.
He’d hoped to earn enough money that he could send some back to his folks every month or two, but would that be the case? Although he was willing to do most any type of job, Gunder preferred working out in the clean air instead of inside the mountain digging out ore. If he did get the job, he wanted to learn all about the process of mining. One thing he’d always possessed was an inquisitive mind. It was why Mr. Adamson had taught him every aspect of his livery business instead of leaving him to shovel out the stalls every day.
When Gunder reached the last tent on the left side of the road, he folded back the flap and looked inside. There was a newer-looking cot and an apple crate turned on its side with an empty tin candleholder beside it. Since it was summer, a candle likely wouldn’t be necessary for a few months, but Gunder added candles, or perhaps a kerosene lamp, to the growing list of things he needed to purchase.
Fearful of someone stealing his pack if he left it in the tent, he kept it with him as he turned and followed the road into town. He walked the length of Lovely, noticing the rickety shacks that were on the outskirts closest to the miners’ tent city. One shack sat apart from the others with a barn and a few outbuildings around it. If he weren’t mistaken, he could hear chickens clucking.
Raucous music being played on an out-of-tune piano in the saloon drifted out to assault his ears. He read the sign painted on the window that advertised drinks, cards, and girls.
Gunder had no interest in anything the saloon offered and kept walking. He made his way past an assayer’s office, a doctor’s office, and a general store with a sign indicating the post office was located inside. A few larger houses were on the north end of town, along with a church that stood tall and proud, the paint gleaming white against the backdrop of blue sky, green grass, and trees behind it.
Surprised to see anything green, Gunder walked behind the church to discover a river running there. On either side of it, trees, bushes, and grass made it look like an oasis in a forgotten desert.
Gunder swung off his pack, dropped to his knees, and dipped his hands in the crisp, cool water. He washed his hands and face, then drank until he was no longer thirsty. Suddenly eager to be clean, he walked another hundred yards along the river, following it around the curve of the hills until he was shielded from sight of the town, then stripped out of his filthy clothes and took a much-needed bath. The tiny sliver of soap his mother had sent along was used to scrub his clothes, and then remove the weeks and miles of dirt and sweat he carried.
Although the clothes in his pack were dusty from travel, at least they were mostly clean. Gunder pulled them on, finger-combed his hair, and hoped he looked and smelled better than he had upon his arrival.
He sat on a thick patch of grass in the shade of a cottonwood tree while his clothes dried. It didn’t take long in the summer heat. Gunder carefully folded them, returned them to his pack, and walked back into Lovely. He didn’t have a watch, but by the position of the sun, he figured he had about an hour before dinner would be served at the mine.
Gunder noticed the largest of the houses near the church had a “Boardinghouse” sign tacked to one of the porch posts. By far, the three-story house was the biggest building in town. He drew in a breath tinted with the scent of roasting meat and yeast, and his stomach growled in response.
Knowing he would get a meal soon, he stopped by the blacksmith shop. If things didn’t work out at the mine, perhaps the blacksmith would have work for him.
“Howdy, stranger,” said a hulking man with a thatch of unruly dark hair on his head and smallpox scars on his face. He lowered the hoof of the horse he’d just been shoeing, then wiped his hand on the stained leather apron he wore. “What brings you to Lovely?”
“A job, I hope,” Gunder said, and shook the man’s hand. “I found a newspaper clipping about Lovely being a place to find your fortune and future. It mentioned plenty of jobs at the Juniper Point Mine, so here I am. I admit, the town is nothing like I expected.”
“No doubt you had a vision of a picturesque town with pretty little houses and flowers scenting the air.” The man snorted in disgust. “That load of poppycock is direct from the mine owner. He’s a little banty rooster if I’ve ever seen one. He rarely bothers to visit the mine, so count yourself lucky if you never meet Felix Newton. By the way, I’m Silas Evans, but my friends call me Si. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Gunder Birke. It’s good to meet you.” Gunder studied the horse Silas had been shoeing.
“You know anything about horses?” Silas asked as he brushed a hand along the neck of the gelding.
Gunder nodded. “I worked in a livery in Pittsburgh for eight years. I started out cleaning stalls, but I most enjoyed working with the horses. The majority of those boarded needed to be ridden often because their owners weren’t frequent visitors.”
Silas nodded. “Things are a little different here. Most of my business is with my blacksmithing trade, and the occasional shoeing of a horse. Too bad I don’t have more work, or I’d be happy to give you a job.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s kind of you to say. I’m supposed to report for work at the mine in the morning at five.”
“Five?” Silas frowned. “You driving a freight wagon?”
“That was the job Mr. Goodwin offered. I’m supposed to ride with a man named Lars tomorrow to see if I’m capable of doing the work and want the position.”
“Lars is a good, solid man. Listen to what he tells you and you’ll get along all right, but be careful. Hauling freight, in my opinion, is the most dangerous job at the mine.”
Gunder had no idea how driving a loaded wagon into Baker City, unloading it, filling it with supplies, and driving it back could be dangerous. It seemed simple enough to him.
“There aren’t Indians on the warpath or something along those lines, are there?”
Silas chuckled. “No. Just be careful, that’s all. Goodwin is fair, even if he plays his cards a little too close to the vest for my liking.” He motioned out his open door. “Did you explore the town already?”
Gunder nodded. “I did. Even took a refreshing dip in the river around the bend.”
“I like to do that of an evening myself. I live upstairs. If you ever need a friend, you know where to find me.”
A smile stretched across Gunder’s chapped lips. “Thank you, Si. I don’t think a body can ever have too many friends.”
“I agree, Gunder. Welcome to Lovely.”
Gunder shook hands with him again, then made his way back to the mine. From the stream of miners coming out of a tunnel in the hill, he assumed their workday was at an end. He stood in the shade cast by the tent nearest the mine and watched as the men washed up, then walked into a building across the road from the mine.
Assuming it was the cookshack, Gunder made his way there and took a seat at the end of a table. While the food wasn’t the best he’d ever eaten, it was plentiful and filling. Gunder sopped up the last of his gravy with a piece of bread, then picked up his plate, fork, and cup, carrying them to a big dishpan near the kitchen.
He’d just turned to leave when a short wiry man with a dirty apron tied around his scrawny middle latched on to his arm.
“Are you the new feller what’s gonna ride with Lars tomorrow?” the man asked, staring up at Gunder with one cloudy brown eye and one clear.
“Yes, sir. Mr. Goodwin said he’d mention the need for an extra lunch to the cook. May I pick that up in the morning here?”
The man shook his head. “I’ll just give it to Lars, along with something to break your fast. You’ll need it if you plan to make it through the day.” The man eyed him for a long moment, then wiped his hand on his apron and held it out to him. “I’m Jed.”
“Nice to meet you, Jed. I’m Gunder Birke.”
“Well, Gunder Birke. You best get some rest and be sure your britches are planted on the wagon seat before five, or you’ll get left behind.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that. And thank you for the filling meal.”
Jed grinned, showing a few gaps in his smile. “You’re welcome, son. Did Goodwin give you a place to sleep?”
“Yep. The last tent on the left.”
An expression Gunder couldn’t quite interpret flew across Jed’s face before he scowled. “That figures. Have a good night, Gunder.”
“Thanks, Jed. You as well.”
Gunder left the cookshack and started toward his tent. He nodded at a few people, but they didn’t appear interested in conversation, so he returned to the tent that would be his, at least for the night, and slid off the pack he’d kept with him through dinner. The tent felt hot and stuffy, even with the bottom edges rolled up so a breeze could blow through. He debated whether he should sleep fully dressed or get comfortable.
Not certain if he’d awaken to find his boots missing if he removed them, he chose to sleep fully dressed with his pack for a pillow and his hat shading his face from the sun that wouldn’t set for a few more hours.
Although he doubted he’d get much sleep, he’d barely closed his eyes when exhaustion claimed him.
