Kathy L. Wheeler writes contemporary and historical romance. She loves the NFL, NBA, musical theater, travel, reading, and … karaoke! She moved from tornado alley to the Pacific Northwest and is enthralled with the weather there. Learn more about her and her books at her website.
My husband and I were at my cousin's house the other day for an impromptu cookout. It was so much fun. However, in the course of the kitchen conversation, he blurted out, "Kathy has a black thumb."
I looked at him a little dumbfounded and said, “What? What the hell is a black thumb?”
“It means you can’t grow anything.”
Now, I take umbrage with that statement. For years, before our move to the northwest, he was always trying to get me to garden. Garden! I admit, I was clueless when it came to gardening. My mother said that when I was little, I would come in the house crying because I had dirt on my hands. I hated it. I still kind of hate it, truth be known.
Still. Really? A black thumb?
When we decided on our move to western Washington and bought our house, our dog Angel, our cat Carly, and I drove up a month before my husband was able to join us. My aunt and my late dad’s wife came over one afternoon for “high” tea (I was really creative, if I say so myself! Cucumber and egg salad sandwiches, notwithstanding) brought me a housewarming gift—a rose bush. I looked at them and said, “Um. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Just put it on the back porch and let it acclimate to the weather. Then plant it in the ground,” they said (almost simultaneously).
I put it on the back porch for several days. Then my husband called to say he would arrive in a couple of days. I grabbed the bush, drove to Tacoma, and found an Ace Hardware. I took in my bush and showed it to the employee and said, “I don’t know what to do.”
I ended up buying a small shovel, rose plant food, Miracle Grow, etc. etc.
I wanted that damn bush in the ground before he got there. Otherwise, it would be things like: Do you know what you are doing? Why are you planting it there? You need more dirt…Blah blah blah.
In any event, I planted my little rose bush.
See the photo above? I ask you: Who has a black thumb?
Mail Order Bride: The Counterfeit
The Mail Order Bride Series, Book 1
After a disastrous first marriage, Will Jeffers hasn’t the stomach for another emotionally entailed union. All he needs is a wife to cook, nurse his mother, and look after the homestead. But good women are few and far between in Colorado mining country. A mail order bride is the perfect solution.
Amelia Johannasen is running for her life. Her mother, the town saloon madam, has decided it’s time her daughter joined the family business, shattering Amy’s dreams of marrying for love. Imagine her surprise when she is mistaken for Will Jeffers mail order bride.
She has a head for numbers and a talent for spinning tall-tales but no notion of how to cook or nurse a manipulative old woman. Can she reach the heart of a man once burned so badly, he’s sworn off love?