The Avant-gardiste Quotes

“He raised a hand to her face, brushing lightly across her cheek in a caress, enticingly gentle and sweet, yet she could sense the impatience in his touch as his tender fingers traced their way down to her chin.
She shuddered.
Helplessly caught in his spell, she watched the growing need on his face as he grazed his thumb across her bottom lip, his dark eyes following the motion.
A quiver of expectancy ran through her.
She felt her blood rushing to her ears, her breathing quickening. Her lips parted slightly as his thumb rubbed a bit harder, scraping a line of fire across her mouth, and before she could hold it back, a low moan escaped her throat.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“Whatever the breed’s intentions were with Katherine, he’d sure put a spoke in his wheel. Had he known that this insolent bastard would show his face again, that he’d try to inveigle her with his smooth manners and even lure her out onto the prairie to—God forbid—seduce her, he would have put a stop to it back in November, that very day he had caught them in the barn. Yeah, he’d have set Katherine straight then and there. Told her bluntly and unmistakably to keep away from that Métis for good.
But he hadn’t.
He had underestimated the damned situation. Been wrong about Katherine, too.
Joe ground his teeth in anger and picked up his pace.
He didn’t even want to imagine how far this cursed dalliance might have gone already. Katherine’s lies alone told him enough.
Yes, she had lied to his face, shamelessly—she, of all people! That straight-laced, prim and proper East Coast goose, with her daily Bible readings! She had even dared deny that kiss, flat-out!
Goddammit! What the hell did she think she was doing?
Had his warnings not been plain enough?”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“Y’know, seein’ ya in that blanket reminds me of a cute, li’l tradition among the Sioux,” he remarked, the calculating glint in his eyes setting her on edge even more. “It serves a very special purpose for ’em.”
Katherine bit back a scoff.
“To keep themselves warm?” she asked with a sarcastic undertone.
Joe chuckled softly. He pushed away from the door and sauntered closer, his dark gaze riveted on hers. The predatory expression in his eyes sent a nervous flutter through her chest.
“When a young brave chooses himself a bride,” he said, “he wraps himself in such a blanket and waits patiently in front of her father’s tepee for her to come out . . . even if it takes hours. Well, eventually, she’ll have to fetch water from the river or collect some firewood.” He shot her a cocky grin that suggested that she wouldn’t like the moral of the story. “Then—he quickly cuts her off so she can’t escape ’im and pulls the blanket around ’em both, so he can talk to her in private, protected from pryin’ eyes.”
He stopped right in front of her, grabbing the edges of her blanket and trapping her beneath it as he pulled her to him.
“Wrapped up like that,” he continued, lowering his voice as if imparting a secret, “they stand together and talk, while ev’ryone else in the village knows from then on that the warrior’s courtin’ that girl. If she don’t want ’im, she slips out of the blanket and runs away—but if she likes ’im, she stays . . . and meets ’im again and again, in the shelter of his blanket. Until she finally becomes his wife.”
Thunderstruck, Katherine stared up at him, hardly daring to breathe. His face hovered inches from hers, the light of the kerosene lamp casting flickering shadows across his ruggedly handsome features. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he must hear it.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“All of a sudden, a terrifying clatter, scarcely three feet from where she was squatting, nearly made her jump out of her skin.
Katherine gasped.
Instinctively, she leaped to the side to get away from whatever was making the ghastly noise—but in her haste she tripped over something protruding from the grass and lost her balance. With a startled cry, she toppled over, the impact knocking the air from her lungs as she hit the ground. A sharp pain jolted through her left foot, making her groan.
But there was no time to check her injured foot.
Struck with terror, she saw a dark shadow move among the bare shrubs. Something white flashed in the pale moonlight—closer than she cared for—while the unsettling clattering sounds seemed to increase.
Panic rolled through her.
Her heart pounding frantically against her ribs, Katherine struggled to back away, to put distance between herself and that ghoulish creature, yet the searing sensation that shot through her foot made her buckle and collapse back onto the grass.
In utter desperation, she gave a yell of fear and tried to crawl on all fours. Thorny branches grazed her face, then something caught her nightcap, jerking her head back and arresting her escape.
Her nerves spun out of control.
Yelling again, she thrashed about, ripping the cap from her head in sheer horror as she fought to free herself.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“That’s right,” she said firmly. “I’ll be joining you for the round-up.”
Joe stared at her for a moment, perplexed, then huffed a snort.
“Oh no, you won’t! Women have no business there! You can watch when we’re brandin’ the calves and cuttin’ the young bulls after the roundup, but you’re definitely not comin’ along.” His tone was sharp and decisive.
Katherine clasped her hands in her lap with studied casualness. Reluctance stirred within her, yet she had, of course, been prepared for pushback.
“Well, I’m well aware of how demanding and arduous it will be,” she admitted calmly, “but as I am the proprietor of this ranch, I shall most certainly take part in all the roundups from now on.”
Joe kept his gaze locked on her as he slowly moved closer, his posture intimidating. His glare brought back uncomfortable memories of the day he had thrown her into the horse trough.
“And as the one in charge of the whole fuckin’ shebang,” he said pointedly, “I’m tellin’ ya to stay!”
She jutted out her chin in defiance. “That’s not your decision to make, Joe.”
Glowering down at her, he stopped in front of the armchair. Then he suddenly bent over and slammed his fist onto the armrest. Katherine felt the impact reverberate through the entire chair as she shrank back against the backrest with shock.
“Yes, it is, Kate,” he snarled, anger and discontent etched into his hard features as he braced his hands on the armrests. “And I won’t have it. You’re stayin’!”
She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch as he gritted his teeth. Alarming memories washed over her—of Danny standing bent over her the day before the fall roundup, just as Joe was now.
And now, as then, she felt trapped.
But she could not allow herself to show any weakness. She had to stand up to him without wavering.
After all, did he really think he had authority over her?
“You can forbid your wife to come along, but as sure as rain, you won’t forbid me,” she managed to retort in a tone of reprimand. “I have every right to it.”
Joe’s dark eyes narrowed on her, boring into hers.
“Dammit, woman, are you so desperate to tempt fate, huh? Roundin’ up cattle is dangerous business! Hundreds of agitated beeves are runnin’ all over the place, rammin’ their fuckin’ horns into your thighs, raisin’ up tons of dust so ya can hardly see a hand in front of your face. If your horse throws ya, you’ll be trampled to death in a flash.” His face drew so close that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “I ain’t takin’ ya along, Kate! No chance! ’Tis far too unsafe. You ain’t goin’, and that’s final.”
All of a sudden, anger blazed through her like a wildfire. She fought to keep her composure, every nerve on edge, but she was so furious she could have struck him.
How did he dare talk to her like that?
She didn’t need his stupid permission to go! The ranch was hers. The cattle were hers. No man had the right to forbid her anything! Those days were over—once and for all!
“You can’t make me stay and you sure won’t,” she bit out, her hands balling into fists.
His expression grew even harder and darker. “Trust me, Kate, I can. And if I have to rope ya like a fuckin’ calf, tie ya to your bed, and board up your door, I’ll do it. You’d better not tempt me!”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“Woman is equal to man, my dearest brother. ‘There is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus,’” she quoted fiercely. “One!”
He stepped back to give her space, his gaze perusing over her face. “As far as I recall that story, woman was formed from a rib of man,” he sneered. “Don’t sound like equality to me.”
“And you were formed from a handful of dirt,” she snapped back. “Did it never occur to you that women crave more in life than raising children, keeping house, and darning their husbands’ holey socks? That they have just as much right to make something out of their lives as men do?”
“Heavens!” Joe rolled his eyes. “So what? The sun’s supposed to revolve around the earth from now on, huh?”
“Why shouldn’t women be equal to men?” Katherine shot him a defiant look. “Why not give us the right to vote, too? Do you really think you’re so much smarter than us?” She let out an incensed snort. “Mr. O’Donegan can hardly write his name, but in a few years he’ll be allowed to vote, while I had excellent schooling in Boston and won’t be permitted to do so. Where is the justice in that? Just because I’m a woman?”
She watched one corner of Joe’s mouth lift into a smug smirk, the sight fanning her anger all the more.
“The truth is, women are capable of judging matters just as clearly and soundly as men—perhaps even better,” she insisted with grim conviction. “I dare say we could succeed in any profession hitherto reserved for men alone. We work as hard as you do and bear just as much responsibility, so why should we not become doctors, lawyers, or judges as well?” She raised her chin combatively and fixed him with a challenging look. “No, I believe you men deny us women equal rights for one reason only: because you’re afraid we can do it far better than you!”
Joe snorted, amused, and studied her through narrowed eyes.
“So what you’re saying is ya think ya can drive cattle just as well as Tom, Luis—or me?” he jeered, placing his hands on his hips, cocky as ever.
“With a little practice, I sure can.”
“Ridin’ sidesaddle—in that posh ridin’ habit of yours?”
For a moment, Katherine held her breath as realization hit her.
No, riding sidesaddle wouldn’t do, of course.
She would have to take to riding astride for working cattle, even though the idea of sitting a horse with her legs apart shocked her to her very core. But no matter how shameless it struck her, she would have to take the risk if she wanted to succeed.
“I’m sure I can find something more suitable to wear.”
He cocked his head to the side, a provocative glint in his eyes. “More suitable how? Pants and chaps like a man?”
The very notion made her head spin. But there was no way back now. “Why not?”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“That’s right,” she said firmly. “I’ll be joining you for the round-up.”
Joe stared at her for a moment, perplexed, then huffed a snort.
“Oh no, you won’t! Women have no business there! You can watch when we’re brandin’ the calves and cuttin’ the young bulls after the roundup, but you’re definitely not comin’ along.” His tone was sharp and decisive.
Katherine clasped her hands in her lap with studied casualness. Reluctance stirred within her, yet she had, of course, been prepared for pushback.
“Well, I’m well aware of how demanding and arduous it will be,” she admitted calmly, “but as I am the proprietor of this ranch, I shall most certainly take part in all the roundups from now on.”
Joe kept his gaze locked on her as he slowly moved closer, his posture intimidating. His glare brought back uncomfortable memories of the day he had thrown her into the horse trough.
“And as the one in charge of the whole fuckin’ shebang,” he said pointedly, “I’m tellin’ ya to stay!”
She jutted out her chin in defiance. “That’s not your decision to make, Joe.”
Glowering down at her, he stopped in front of the armchair, then bent over and slammed his fist onto the armrest, making her shrink back against the backrest with shock. Katherine felt the impact reverberate through the entire chair.
“Yes, it is, Kate,” he snarled, anger and discontent etched into his hard features as he braced his hands on the armrests. “And I won’t have it. You’re stayin’!”
She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch as he gritted his teeth. Alarming memories washed over her—of Danny standing bent over her the day before the fall roundup, just as Joe was now.
And now, as then, she felt trapped.
But she could not allow herself to show any weakness. She had to stand up to him without wavering.
After all, did he really think he had authority over her?
“You can forbid your wife to come along, but as sure as rain, you won’t forbid me,” she managed to retort in a tone of reprimand. “I have every right to it.”
Joe’s dark eyes narrowed on her, boring into hers.
“Dammit, woman, are you so desperate to tempt fate, huh? Roundin’ up cattle is dangerous business! Hundreds of agitated beeves are runnin’ all over the place, rammin’ their fuckin’ horns into your thighs, raisin’ up tons of dust so ya can hardly see a hand in front of your face. If your horse throws ya, you’ll be trampled to death in a flash.” His face drew so close that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “I ain’t takin’ ya along, Kate! No chance! ’Tis far too unsafe. You ain’t goin’, and that’s final.”
All of a sudden, anger blazed through her like a wildfire. She fought to keep her composure, every nerve on edge, but she was so furious she could have struck him.
How did he dare talk to her like that?
She didn’t need his stupid permission to go! The ranch was hers. The cattle were hers. No man had the right to forbid her anything! Those days were over—once and for all!
“You can’t make me stay and you sure won’t,” she bit out, her hands balling into fists.
His expression grew even harder and darker. “Trust me, Kate, I can. And if I have to rope ya like a fuckin’ calf, tie ya to your bed, and board up your door, I’ll do it. You’d better not tempt me!”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“Silence filled the room, deafening in its power, after the ranch hands had left the house. Only the steady ticking of the mantelpiece clock pierced through the air, rasping her nerves as Katherine stepped to the armchair and lowered herself into it.
She felt Joe’s disdainful gaze fixed on her.
He hadn’t said a single word since the moment he had entered, not even while she had given the three young herders a proper talking-to for their nightly trip. Instead, he had been watching her with that typical sneer of his, standing with one shoulder propped against the doorframe, his thumbs casually hooked in his gunbelt and one leg crossed over the other, his mere presence unnerving her.
Irritated, she cast him a glance.
That stupid, unbearably smug lout!
The scornful look on his face spoke volumes about his disapproving her choice of punishment for the men. No doubt, he would have had them flogged or locked up for a week on bread and water, as hard, relentless men like him were wont to do.
But she didn’t approve of such draconian measures.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“How could some white men so willfully and selfishly shatter all efforts for peace? And why did men always have to make war?
Was honor truly worth more than life itself? More than love, more than family, more than anything at all?
Painful memories of Frederick, her late husband, tugged at her heart. As much as she had mourned him, there had been times when she had resented him for going to war so willingly and enthusiastically, leaving her behind to raise Willie all by herself, at the mercy of his vitriolic mother in Boston.
“But what of their families?” The words burst out of her. “Their wives and children? It’s always the weak, the helpless who pay the price for you men believing you cannot settle your disputes any other way.” She shot him a displeased look. “You think yourselves so brave, strong, and invincible with your guns as you crave glory and honor! You go to war as if it were a game, an amusing adventure! But you don’t waste much thought on those you leave behind, unprotected and without prospects for their future in case you don’t return.”
Surprised by her outburst, Rénier stared at her.
“You’re right, Madame,” he then conceded. “It’s the women and children who pay the price. But they’d suffer just the same if their fathers, husbands, and brothers surrendered without a fight and resigned themselves to their fate.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers

“Boston?” He cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Sure ain’t easy for a lady of your stature to find your bearings here, is it?”
“True enough,” she agreed. “Life in these parts is completely different from anything I’ve been used to, but I enjoy being here, and I dare say I’ve settled in well so far.”
Indeed, she had found herself reveling in her newly claimed independence and freedom—far from the suffocating etiquette and constricting social obligations she had suffered under all her life in Boston. Far from the prevailing opinion in the East that women of her stature, as Rénier had put it, were destined to adorn the arm of a wealthy, distinguished gentleman and find their fulfilment in being the perfect lady, wife, and hostess, always gentle, obedient, and dutiful, never complaining about their unjust fate.
Those were the ideals on which she had been raised: the pillars of a social order where a woman was little more than a decorative accessory, expected to do as she was told. In a world where obligation and appearance meant everything, and one’s own desires and longings had no place.
Oh, how her heart had rebelled against those rigid forms, against that gilded cage in which a woman of the upper class was confined, when all she longed for was self⁠-determination, independence, and—adventure.
But she had left it all behind.
Once and for all. And she thanked God for it with all her heart.”
― Melanie Nova, The Avant-gardiste: Breaking Barriers