TAMING LADY TEMPERANCE Excerpt:
Deputy James Paxton’s jaw tightened as he transformed his mosey into a march and lengthened his stride to hurry to his target. The irate female jabbing a pointed finger toward Milton Taggert’s chest.
“I will not ‘make myself scarce,’ Mr. Taggert. I will make myself heard. I have the right of free speech, and I will exercise that right wherever and however I choose. I choose here and now.”
The finger jabbed toward the ground to enumerate her point, easing a bit of James’s anxiety over the likelihood of said digit being snapped in two by the irate tavern owner. Milton Taggert had moved to Albany from The Flat after the railroad came through and had a roughness around his edges that didn’t bode well for single-minded women too blinded by their ideals to identify the danger right in front of them.
“My customers have rights, too,” Taggert growled. “Like the right to spend their evenings as they see fit without being insulted by some sour-faced teetotalling old biddy who wouldn’t know a good time if it bit her on the nose.”
Miss O’Sullivan’s stubborn chin ticked up a notch. “The demon drink you serve only offers the illusion of fun, but it’s a lie, and we both know it. In truth, it steals a man’s sense and his morals leading to crime, cruelty, and an immeasurable amount of stupidity.”
James chuckled inwardly at that, ducking into the shadows as he neared. The woman had grit. And a valid point. Not that he expected her zealous sermonizing to sway the burly man glowering at her like a grizzly bear on the boardwalk outside the Salt Fork Saloon.
“If liquor is such an abomination, why did that Jesus fella you’re so keen on turn water into wine for a wedding party?”
Noreen O’Sullivan blinked. Her lips parted but no rejoinder sprang forth.
Taggert’s arms unfolded. “Ha! That’s what I thought. Drop this obsession and go home, O’Sullivan. You got no business here.”
Yes, go home, lady. Please. No need to escalate this into something ugly. Even as the plea formed in his mind, though, Noreen O’Sullivan’s eyes narrowed, and her finger rose back into pointing position.
“Proverbs twenty verse one: ‘Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.’ Ephesians chapter five verse eighteen: ‘And be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit.’ Galatians five verse twenty-one . . .”
The woman kept firing her scripture bullets, paying no heed to her increasing peril. Her ammunition bounced off Taggert without making a dent, yet the more she fired, the angrier he became. When the man took a threatening step forward, James stepped out of the shadows.
“Evenin’, Taggert.”
The saloon owner pulled up short and whipped his face toward James, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing. “You gonna do somethin’ about this, Deputy?” He jerked a thumb in Miss O’Sullivan’s direction. “This Bible thumper’s been out here for the past twenty minutes haranguin’ my customers and disturbin’ the peace.”
Miss O’Sullivan pivoted toward James, her back ramrod straight and her eyes as fiery as Taggert’s. Not a good sign. “I’m on a public street, exercising my freedom of speech. There’s no law against such activities.”
“Ha!” Taggert spun to face her, his fists clenched, but thankfully not raised. “What about the law of human decency. You’re a public nuisance!”
“And you’re a threat to public safety, filling men up with liquor with no care as to how the drunkards you create will treat their wives and children when they get home.” Miss O’Sullivan’s voice cracked slightly, and for the first time James suspected that temperance was more than a social issue to this reformer. It was personal.
James wedged himself between the two before they could start taking swings at each other with something more damaging than words.
“All right. That’s enough.” He kept his voice calm and measured, hoping to defuse some of the tension. “Taggert, I’m sure you have customers to tend. I’ll see Miss O’Sullivan home.”
“What if I’m not ready to go home?” She took aim at James with a pair of glistening brown eyes that bore a striking resemblance to shotgun barrels.
James held his tongue and forced his gaze away from the compelling woman. He eyed Taggert instead, making it clear he’d not tolerate anything other than retreat. The owner of the Salt Fork exhaled a disgusted breath but complied without arguing. He backed off a few steps then pivoted and shoved the flat of his hand against the batwing doors, sending them flying inward with a squeak of hinges.
James returned his attention to the woman before him and offered his arm. “Shall we?”
“We shall not,” she declared as she stretched her arms behind her back and laced her fingers in protest.
A smile snuck onto his face, though he did his best to keep it on a tight rein, doubting his amusement would go over well. Noreen O’Sullivan was wound as tight as the black curls that had sprung free from their pins to dangle about her face in a defiant, yet oddly fetching manner.
“You know, I actually agree with much of what you were saying.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You do?”
Before he could answer, lines of suspicion formed between her brows, erasing the momentary vulnerability. “I won’t be placated, Deputy Paxton. And I won’t succumb to your charms, so aim that smile of yours elsewhere.”
She found his smile charming? The notion made his grin grow, no doubt the opposite of what she’d intended. When her eyes narrowed, he had to bite on the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. The woman sure was contrary. But James found her fascinating as well. Hard not to with all that passion and purpose zinging around beneath her surface.
© 2026 Karen Witemeyer. All rights reserved.
Excerpt from Taming Lady Temperance. Used with permission.
TAMING LADY TEMPERANCE by Karen Witemeyer
When passion for justice conflicts with the heart, which will prevail?
Noreen O’Sullivan is an enthusiastic member of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union and believes herself called to defend the cause of prohibition. When she’s invited to join the Secret Society of Spinsters, Noreen jumps at the chance to rally others to her movement and shut down the local saloon for good. However, her passionate campaigning often puts her at odds with the men around her—including the local deputy.
Deputy James Paxton believes in preserving the peace, but Miss O’Sullivan has been disturbing his peace for months. If James wants to be elected sheriff, he can’t afford to be seen as her ally. But when Noreen ropes him into helping her plan a temperance march, their growing closeness sparks unexpected feelings. Then tensions escalate at the saloon and accusations fly. James must choose between upholding his badge and protecting the woman who’s captured his heart—knowing either choice could cost him everything.
Karen Witemeyer presents a swoony Western romance with a determined heroine, cowboys, prohibition, and the rivals-to-lovers and duty vs. desire tropes. Fans of Mary Connealy and frontier romances set in the Old West will savor this clean, historical read.
Romance Historical | Christian [ Baker Publishing Group, On Sale: February 17, 2026, Trade Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9780764244735 / eISBN: 9781493452613 ]
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About Karen Witemeyer
After growing up in California, Karen moved to Texas to attend Abilene Christian University where she earned bachelor and master’s degrees in Psychology. It was also there that she met and married her own Texas hero. He roped her in good, for she has lived in Texas ever since. In fact, she fell so in love with this rugged land of sweeping sunsets and enduring pioneer spirit, that she incorporates it into the pages of her novels, setting her stories in the small towns of a state that burgeoned into greatness in the mid- to late1800s.
A life-long bookworm, Karen is living her dream by writing novels. Her books have consistently hit bestseller lists and have garnered numerous awards. When not writing, she loves to pester her adult children, play board games, and cross-stitch intricate patterns reminiscent of the historical eras present in her stories.
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