Many readers have told me they love Grandpa Gus Peregrine.
I love him too. Love may be too small of a word. I adore Grandpa Gus. He’s the most entertaining and challenging part of every old-timer I’ve ever met. His absentmindedness was inspired by my own all-too-often wandering thoughts.
Who is Grandpa Gus? He’s Jack and Max Peregrine’s grandfather. The minute he met Birdie Bell in 1876 (and then the Llewellyn family — Robyn and her three big brothers Brynmor, Heddwyn, and Griffin — in 1877), he schemed to make them all part of his family, and he’s only happy if you call him Grandpa. He loves his home in the mountain mining town of Noelle, Colorado.
Then something new happened in 1878. Gus made an unexpected trip to Songbird Junction to see what the three Llewellyn Brothers were up to…
Meet Grandpa Gus in the following excerpts from my Noelle, Colorado stories…
The Calling Birds
December 25, 1876 — The 1st day of Christmas in Noelle
“What the blazes happened here?” The door connecting Jack’s carpentry shop to the back of the freight office slammed behind him with a bang that echoed his bellow of disbelief.
Bright rolls of fabric, heaps of ribbon, lace, and partially made dresses lay strewn over every stack in the storage area. The confusion of colors made his head hurt. Heavenly Father, please tell me I’m dreaming.
The early hour shed no light on the situation. The office harbored as many shadows as the pair of windows on the opposite wall. He lifted his lantern higher, rubbed his eyes, and took a second look.
Nope. His luck still hadn’t changed for the better.
Another task had been heaped on his already mountain-high workload—and Grumpy Gus had to be the culprit. Why had his grandfather removed Miss Bell’s belongings from their transport sacks? The cantankerous side of the old man had been appearing more often than his cooperative counterpart.
“Hellfire!” A fist of panic punched his heart. Had Grandpa Gus wandered off again? If he reached the snowpack beyond the tree line, he might trigger an avalanche and plummet to—
“Is cursing how you say hello?”
The question came from the other side of the hills of rainbow shrouded freight where he now glimpsed the faint glow of another lantern.
“I know yer mother—God rest her sweet-as-sarsaparilla soul—taught you better ’n that.”
Jack’s worry turned to relief, then frustration and finally acceptance. “Good morning.” He aimed for a cheerful tone but he doubted if he’d have fooled a stranger, let alone someone who knew him as well as Gus.
“That’s better but not great,” his grandfather replied. “I’m adding brushing up on yer manners to my list.”
Read another excerpt & more on THE CALLING BIRDS book page.
Robyn: A Christmas Bride
(the sequel to The Calling Birds)
December 21, 1877 — Four days before Noelle’s big Christmas Party
Robyn faced Jack’s grandfather head on. “Gus, will you—?”
“No,” the old-timer grumbled with a vigorous shake of his head. “I ain’t doing nothin’ unless you call me Grandpa or—”
“Bon-papa,” Robyn interrupted because she liked the French translations better than the Welsh, but she didn’t want to intrude on Birdie’s special name for Gus. She also didn’t want to keep all three Peregrines standing in the cold any longer. “Will you show me the barn?”
Jack’s groan made her add, “Will you also stay with me until we return to your office? I’m not one to get lost, not after hauling freight around a city’s rabbit warren of streets but…” She flashed the smile she used to cajole her brothers. “I do like company.”
“And I’d be delighted to be yer escort, pretty lady.” Halfway to the barn, Gus glanced behind him then leaned closer to her and whispered, “Good. We ain’t being followed. They often do that. Got noses like bloodhounds, they do.”
His comparison made her inhale deeply. Noelle’s crisp mountain air invigorated her mood. A small town like this had to be different from Denver in more ways than she could imagine. Anticipation quickened her pace. The memory of not paying attention to the people closest to her made her slow her steps to match Gus’. Which wasn’t a hardship.
For his age, he was fleet of foot, if not always of mind.
A fierce affection for him, and the family who adored him to the point of smothering him, welled up inside Robyn. The extent of her feelings bewildered her until she remembered what Max had told her.
His grandfather had been involved in Max and Jack’s lives longer than their father had. Not by choice but by circumstance. The War between the States had torn the middle out of their family. The Peregrines had lost a father and a son to a wagon accident that’d rattle even the most hardened of freighters.
Max had a steely determination, but his heart wasn’t cold or closed. He’d given her a job without a lecture about a woman’s inability to do the work. He hadn’t ended her employment, or even reduced her load, after the days when freight runs got challenging, as they sooner or later did.
He’d accepted her as she was.
She’d admired him for that. She still did, but she couldn’t stop craving more. Which jeopardized their friendship and her growing connection to his grandfather. “I wish we were already family.”
“Already?” The knowing glint in Gus’ golden eyes made her duck her head.
“I know,” she mumbled. “I’m rushing things.”
“In that, yer like yer brother, Heddwyn.”
“I hope I’m like Brynmor and Griffin, too.”
“You are. None of you can stop hoping fer a better future, but you need to be careful what you wish fer.” He heaved a sigh. “If a Peregrine has to, they can make it darned difficult for a person to have any fun. Now it’s my turn.”
Noelle’s crisp air suddenly felt frigid. “Your turn for what?”
“To be the voice of reason. The bearer of bad news. The fly in yer honey.” He snorted a laugh. “Or is it ointment? Can’t remember. But you gotta remember—” He shook his finger at her. “Don’t shoot me. I’m only the messenger.”
His flurry of words made her thoughts spin. She planted her feet in the snow and demanded, “What are you talking about?”
“My grandson, Max, of course. Which is a topic best discussed in private.” Gus opened the barn door and gestured for her to go inside.
Read another excerpt & more on the ROBYN: A CHRISTMAS BRIDE book page.
