Books

Canned Food on the Frontier?

Join me in welcoming back my friend and talented author Linda Broday!

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I’m so excited about my new release – TWICE A TEXAS BRIDE! This is the second book in my Bachelors of Battle Creek series. Don’t miss the giveaway at the bottom of this post.

Years ago, I watched a John Wayne western filmed in 1948 called “3 Godfathers.” Ward Bond played alongside him. In the movie, John Wayne and the others were outlaws on the run. They came across a wagon train that had been attacked. All were killed except for one woman. John Wayne and Ward Bond assist her in giving birth and it made for a scene that was both funny and heart wrenching because the woman dies minutes after delivering. John Wayne and the others vow to care for the babe and see it safely across the desert. Amongst the supplies, they find a tin of Carnation milk so they make a baby bottle using that.

Canned milk and other foods actually were used on the frontier. In 1856, Gail Borden, an American, successfully produced sweetened condensed milk in cans for the first time and was granted a patent. With financial support, he launched the New York Condensed Milk Company in 1857. During the Civil War it was introduced on a large scale.

But to my surprise, canned fruits, vegetables, and some fish and meats were produced in 1812 by a small plant in New York. They were sold in hermetically sealed containers, not tins.

The cans were very heavy, requiring a hammer and chisel to open. Quite an arduous process. The first can opener came out in 1858 and resembled a bayonet. Talk about dangerous! In 1870 a safer model was introduced.

Canned peaches were very popular. I used both milk and peaches in TWICE A TEXAS BRIDE.

Rand Sinclair dearly loves peach pie so he keeps lots of cans on hand. The story takes place in the dead of winter and canned ones are all that’s available.

Later in the story, he and Callie Quinn, the woman he finds hiding in a run-down outbuilding, take in a three-month-old orphaned babe. When the outlaw Nate Fleming has them under siege, Rand can’t get out to milk the cow. The only option for the babe is a couple of cans of evaporated milk.

THE BLURB:

Scars of the past run deep inside former saloon owner Rand Sinclair, leaving jagged pain and two certainties. He’ll never fall in love again. Never marry.

He finally has the ranch and land he’s dreamed of owning and that’s enough. But when he finds a woman and little boy hiding out in one of his outbuildings in the bitter cold, he can’t turn his back. He offers her a safe haven and the warmth of his fire.

Callie Quinn is on the run from a killer outlaw who has vowed to see her dead and take the boy.

Slowly, Rand uncovers her secrets and realizes the only way to keep her safe is to push all his chips to the center of the table. He risks everything…his name…his heart…his life for the woman who’s awakened a fierce hunger for love.

Whoever wants to harm her will have to go through him.

And he’ll go through anything for her.

AN EXCERPT:

With the ticking clock on the mantel loud in the room, Callie sat by the window with the Winchester propped on her lap. Rand occupied a chair nearby at the other window with another rifle and his Colt. Toby played quietly with the babe. When they spoke, they kept their voices low, as though Nate and his brothers might hear and charge into the house with guns blazing.

Two o’clock in the afternoon came and went.

No sign of anyone on the road. The gunfire outside had ceased.

No one moved. It was like they hung suspended over a wide chasm and any sound or movement might send them plummeting over the edge.

Though Toby didn’t complain, she knew the toll this took on the six-year-old. Feeling responsible somehow for what his father did, he carried a huge weight on his young shoulders. What was worse, she didn’t know anything she could say that would lift his burden.

Three o’clock.

After Callie changed the baby, she and Rand went to the kitchen. While he kept watch, she made another bottle using the canned milk. The remaining can on the shelf sent ripples of concern through Callie. How would they stifle Wren’s hungry cries when they ran out?

With the bottle in hand, she and Rand returned to the parlor where she fed the babe and put her down for a nap.

“Is anyone hungry? Rand, I could fix you something.”

His blue eyes met hers. “Not hungry, darlin’, but Toby probably is.”

Toby looked up from the floor where he was stared dully at some carved wooden soldiers. He shook his head.

Three-thirty.

“I need to check your bandage. See if you’re bleeding, Rand.” Callie moved to the chair where he sat. Some blood had seeped through the wrappings. She gathered more clean cloths and rebound the wound.

Four o’clock and still no sign of anyone on the road. Callie’s nerves couldn’t take much more of this endless wait. The sun would go down soon. When it did, Nate and his brothers would mount an assault. Would they be able to hold them off by themselves?

At five o’clock with no glimpse of Cooper Thorne, Rand stood and put his coat on.

“Where are you going?” Callie’s heart pounded with fear.

He pulled her against him. “Cooper isn’t coming, darlin’. No one’s coming and I can’t huddle inside this house like a jittery jackrabbit. Wren needs milk. We’re almost out of the canned stuff.”

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Canned foods are so common today. Which do you use most? For a chance to win a copy of TWICE A TEXAS BRIDE leave a comment. Winner gets to choose either e-book or print.

Buy Links for the Book:

Amazon: http://amzn.com/1492602841

Barnes and Noble: http://goo.gl/YWffqm

Watch the Book Trailer:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufpEn3uR-Yk&w=420&h=315]

ABOUT ME:

I’m a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of western historical romance. I reside in the Texas Panhandle on land the American Indian and Comancheros once roamed. I love scouring history books and the Internet for little known details to add to my stories. I’ve been accused, and quite unjustly I might add, of making myself a nuisance at museums and libraries. Humble roots and the love of family have become focal points of each book I write.