Fossil Rocks by Barbara J. Olexer
    Take a former country star, add a beautiful mining magnate, stir into a tiny town known for its fossil beds and stand back. Its an explosive mixture!
    Wesley Callaghan was a star ten years ago, now hes an itinerant ranch hand. Yelisa MacKenzie has inherited her familys mercury mine and operates it herself. One night at the local bar, they are both in the audience when a small band takes the stand. The leader recognizes Wesley and persuades him to sing a couple of numbers. Yelisa is intrigued and electricity crackles between them.
    Complications set in when Wesleys current girlfriend causes ructions. Wesley decides to reactivate his music career and life is very exciting. An unexpected baby girl brings them a hefty dose of reality she isnt Yelisas but is she Wesleys? Then Yelisa gets herself trapped in the mine when an explosive charge detonates too soon, and the excitement is nearly terminal. Fossil Rocks!

Softcover, 269 pages, 2007, ISBN 978-0-9800514-3-8
pBook $17.95, eBook $4.95

Review
Fossil Rocks is a modern western set in the small town of Fossil, Oregon. The protagonist, Wesley Callaghan, is cast in the heroic mold of the late Chris LeDoux - he's a singer/songwriter, a ranch hand, and a bronco buster. Yelisa MacKenzie is the owner and operator of a mercury mine. When she and Wesley meet, we find out "Whatcha Gonna Do with a Cowboy" when he don't saddle up and ride away. This is action, adventure, and sweet love, all tangled up together. It's a great read! Reviewed by Ruby Doyle

Excerpt
            Yelisa was out on the porch waiting for him when Wesley drove up. There was plenty of time before one-thirty so he joined her. He carried a big bundle done up in green florists’ paper. She watched him critically as he mounted the steps and walked to where she sat in the swing, Jack at her feet. He undeniably moved well, she thought. And she liked his shirt. A little gaudy for a wedding perhaps, but there wouldn’t be any chance to change before the rodeo and it was perfect for that. It was royal blue and made so that the front, instead of simply opening in a straight line, was cut in the shape of a large star and buttoned on the star points. Good theatre, she thought.
            Wesley presented the flowers with a flourish and sat beside her as she tore the wrapping off. It was an enormous Victorian nosegay of pink and yellow roses with sprays of stephanotis.
            “It’s beautiful, Wesley,” she said, holding it against her cheek.
            “Yeah, the florist had to take it apart a couple of times before we were satisfied with it.”
            Yelisa laughed. “Before ‘we’ were satisfied with it?”
            “Well, I reckon I was harder to please than she was. I’m glad you like it.”
            Yelisa took the two gold rings from her pocket and handed him the smaller one. “You’d better take this one. It would look pretty silly if I had to dig it out in the middle of the ceremony.”
            Wesley held the ring in the palm of his hand and looked at it a long time. “We should have had something engraved in them. Eternal love or something like that.”
            “I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of a plain gold band with no elaborate promises. This way we’re free to love one another without feeling we’ve mortgaged the future, or have anything to live up to.”
            “I don’t think I quite understand,” Wesley said.
            “Maybe I don’t either, quite. But, okay, it’s like this. If we make a lot of extravagant promises about eternal love or always sharing everything, we’ve already set up barriers between us. I hope our love is eternal but I don’t want that phrase looming ahead of me like a rock on a foggy coast. If we find we can’t share everything, and I’m sure we can’t, I don’t want either of us to feel guilty or resentful because a promise has been broken. Let’s take life as it comes, free and unfettered.”
            “I think you are the only person I’ve ever known who regards marriage as freedom. Are we really not going to allow it to constrict us? Is it possible without growing apart and losing touch with each other?”
            “I think so,” Yelisa said softly, smiling at him. “Or else we wouldn’t be making the experiment. Oh, yes, Wesley, our marriage is going to be different from any you’ve ever seen before.”
            “Thank God.”
            ‘Do you mean that you thought it would mean less freedom, a decreasing horizon, but you were going to do it anyway? Why?
            “I need you,” he answered simply, looking into her eyes intently.
            “Yes, I see you do,” she said slowly. “But, please, Wesley, please don’t let your need lead you into making sacrifices. Because every sacrifice eventually means resentment, usually on both sides. Don’t let us ever make victims of one another.”
            “Victims,” he repeated. He looked out across the hills. “We’ll be two whole, healthy people, Yelisa. Between the two of us, we can keep on an even keel.”
            “I feel like someone ought to say, ‘You may kiss the bride.’”
            “Yeah. I think we just said all the important things.”
            “I know.” Yelisa smiled deprecatingly at him. “But something in me wants the traditional ceremony. You don’t really mind, do you?”
            “I don’t. And it’s time to go. You have my ring and I have yours. You have your posies. Is Aggie coming with us?”
            “No, she went with her friends a couple of hours ago. She had some preserves and a cake at the fair she wanted to see if she’d won anything on. She’ll meet us at the manse.”
            They stood and Wesley took her in his arms. “I love you,” he said.
            Yelisa answered softly. “I love you.” 

             The Reverend Allison was a quick-moving, quick-talking man. He bustled them into his study where Mrs. Allison and Agnes were waiting. Mrs. Allison was a placid lady, tall and blond, who welcomed them with a sweet smile. She and the minister had known Yelisa since they’d come to Fossil fourteen years earlier and they’d grown fond of her. They were inclined to look askance at Wesley in spite of Aggie’s earlier assurances that he was good for Yelisa. Mrs. Allison kissed Yelisa’s cheek and shook hands with Wesley. The Reverend shook hands with them both. Agnes stood near the desk and beamed at everyone.
            The ceremony took only a few minutes, Reverend Allison read the vows so quickly that Yelisa almost lost the sense of them once or twice and Wesley was glad of the training he’d had in learning new lyrics because it helped him grasp the parts he was to repeat. After Wesley kissed the bride, there was another round of hugging and kissing and hand-shaking.
            “Where are you going for your honeymoon, dear? Mrs. Allison asked Yelisa.
            Yelisa grinned. “We don’t have time for one. Wesley has to leave to finish the band’s tour next weekend and I have to stay here and get the kinks ironed out of the second shift we’re starting tomorrow.”
            The Reverend was astonished. “But my dear young people, the honeymoon is very important. You need the time alone to get adjusted to your new life together.”     
            Wesley was delighted to see Yelisa blush. Agnes tightened her lips and resolved to drop a hint to Mrs. Allison regarding the Reverend’s tactlessness.
            “It won’t be all that different, sir,” Wesley said.
            Mrs. Allison caught her husband’s eyes and shook her head at him ever so slightly. He remembered then that he’d heard some talk that Wesley and Yelisa hadn’t waited for the formality of marriage to begin their life together. His wife relieved his confusion by bringing in a white-frosted cake with a little plastic bride and groom on it.
            “I knew you hadn’t planned a reception, Yelisa, and I hope you don’t mind, but I felt I just had to see you cut the cake.”
            “Oh, Mrs. Allison, how lovely of you.” Yelisa’s eyes were suddenly moist. How nice people were. She thought of the reception her mother would have given her and the pride her father would have had in her on this day. It never occurred to her that her parents would find Wesley anything but the perfect husband for her.
            Wesley was pleased for Yelisa’s sake. He could see that she was very moved and his heart warmed to these rather doddery, elderly people. Agnes wiped a tear away and went into the kitchen to help Mrs. Allison bring in the plates and coffee. When everything was assembled, Yelisa and Wesley cut the cake and exchanged the traditional bites. They drank the coffee they didn’t want and at the cake that was too sweet and carried the little plastic bride and groom away with them. Agnes refused a lift to the fairgrounds, saying she was meeting friends at a house on the next street.
            Wesley and Yelisa drove down a side street and parked in the shade of a big old poplar tree. They kissed a good deal and exulted in their marital bliss. At length they returned more or less to sanity, although the kissing went on at intervals.
            “It’s time we got to the rodeo,” Yelisa said reluctantly.
            Wesley started the car. “You’re mighty anxious to see me get broke in half, ma’am.”
            Yelisa laughed. “I was right, Wesley. We’ve been married less than an hour and I’m already having the most fun of my life. Being married to you is entertaining.”
            The Wheeler County Fairgrounds were small, as befitted such a small (in population) county, but they were crowded with enthusiastic rodeo fans. A small carnival was set up and a couple of food booths stood behind the grandstand. The announcer’s booth was a rickety-looking little box suspended from the ceiling of the grandstand and the P.A. system left a lot to be desired.
            Monte and the rest of the band were mingling with the crowd, Monte and Jimmy with the girls they’d taken up with in the last weeks. Trudy was there with Tom Plank. Robbie and Evan were standing near Yelisa who was perched on the fence watching exuberantly. Wesley was back of the chutes, waiting his turn to ride in the saddle bronc contest and watching the competition, all of whom were at least six or eight years young than he.
            Wade Filson completed his ride, the buzzer sounded and one of the pickup men swung him behind his cantle. Another rider caught the bronc and led him out of the arena.
            Johnny Gardis had been the announcer for that rodeo for nearly thirty years. It was his one claim to distinction so he didn’t mind that the P.A. system turned his voice tinny.
            “A good ride, Wade,” he said. “We’ll have the results in just a few minutes. Our next cowboy is not only a champion bronc rider, he’s a nationally famous singer. This is Wesley’s wedding day, folks. He and Miss Yelisa MacKenzie were married this afternoon. Say hi to the folks, Mrs. Callaghan.”
            Yelisa waved her nosegay, smiling broadly. The applause was tremendous.
            Wesley took his place in the chute, standing on the boards, straddling the bronc but above the saddle. The bronc was standing quietly and Wesley slipped into the saddle, took a firm grip on the rein,, held the other hand up high and nodded. The gate tender swung the gate wide and Wesley came out with his spurs well over the bronc’s shoulders. After the first jump, the bronc wasn’t particularly ferocious but Wesley spurred a fair ride out of him and stayed the full ten seconds.
            Evan was taking pictures from every angle he could manage and got so excited that he ran out into the ring. The buzzer sounded but Evan was in the way of the pick-up men and Wesley was dumped. He rolled out of the way of the horse’s hooves, picked up his hat, dusted it against his chaps and limped over to the gate, out of the arena. Yelisa swung around and jumped off the fence to join him.
            “We’ve got an upset, folks,” Johnny said. “Wade Filson’s been disqualified. The judges say his off-side spur wasn’t over the shoulder on that first jump. Tough luck, Wade.”
            The crowd made noises of sympathy and disappointment. Wade was a popular hometown cowboy.
            “All right,” Johnny continued, as a runner handed him a paper, “here it is: third place is Jim Sutton, second is Wesley Callaghan, and our first place winner is Greg Mattson. Congratulations, boys.”
            The crowd applauded heartily.
            “Come on out,” Johnny ordered. “The crowd wants another look at you bronc riders.”
            Wesley grabbed Yelisa by the arm and pulled her out with him. Jim and Greg and three or four others were lined up and a pretty teenage rodeo queen presented a silver buckle to Greg and kissed him. The photographer from the Condon paper was taking pictures and Evan was, too. The queen and the other cowboys left the arena and Wesley turned Yelisa in a deep back-bend and kissed her thoroughly. The crowd yelled its approval.
            Wesley shouted, “I just wanted to be sure something still works.”
            Johnny laughed. “All right. In case you didn’t hear that, folks, Wesley says he just wanted be sure something still works. That hurricane deck’s no place for a man on his wedding day, huh, Wesley?”
            Wesley and Yelisa had turned and were leaving the arena arm-in-arm but at Johnny’s words, she turned back to grin and wave her bouquet at Johnny.
            “When’s the bull riding?” Wesley asked as he closed the gate behind them.
            “Right after bareback.”
            “I hope there aren’t many bareback riders,’ he said fervently. “The quicker I get on that bull the better.”
            “What’s the matter, starting to stiffen up?”
            “In another hour, I won’t be able to move.”
            Evan and Robbie intercepted them and a moment later a couple dozen people, mostly teens, came to ask for Wesley’s autograph. He signed good-naturedly but Yelisa noticed he didn’t ask what they wanted him to write.
            “That was wonderful, Wes,’ Robbie burbled. “Evan got some terrific shots. This is the kind of colorful stuff that ought to knock ‘em dead. Better even than an affair with a lovely young starlet. Although that would be good, too.”
            Yelisa spoke a little dryly. “Everyone has his own point of view, I guess.”
            “I hope you’re not going to expect this in every town on the tour,” Wesley said.
            Robbie grinned. “That would be splendid. I don’t suppose most of them even have rodeos, though.”
            “Doesn’t it mean anything to you people that I’m in intense pain and my insides are probably all busted up and I’m almost certainly not going to live to make the tour anyway?”
            Even had been fiddling with his equipment instead of following the conversation. “Could you ride that horse again later, Wesley? I couldn’t get all the angles I wanted. When the horse rears with his forefeet pawing the air, that would make a wonderful low-angle shot with you waving your arm like that.”
            “Look,” Wesley said patiently, “if that horse kills me, it won’t matter how great your low-angle shots are. I am through bronc riding.”
            Yelisa led the way to a covered pavilion where beer was sold. She bought four big plastic cups full and handed them around. Even took a couple of pictures.
            Wesley said to Yelisa, “You get the idea? Once you become public property, you can’t count on making a move without a photographer at your elbow. Not that I’m complaining, Evan. You’re doing a fine job. I just want the girl to know what she’s getting into.”
            Robbie signaled to Evan. “I think it’s time for us to be tactful, and go and take pictures of the rest of the band.”
            Evan picked up his beer and followed her as she left the pavilion.
            Wesley drank deeply and winced as he turned to face Yelisa. She grinned at him and promised to kiss the hurt place and make it well.

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