“If the baby arrives on schedule, we’ll be done for summer break, and then we could resume in the fall.” I explained the situation to Daniel, knowing it would be necessary to stop teaching for more than one reason.
Parents were questioning whether it was permissible for me to teach now that I was married, and a few stopped sending their children when word spread I was pregnant. In most towns, male teachers outnumbered the women, and women who married gave up their profession to take care of their husband and family.
“I know it’s hard to imagine not teaching,” Daniel said as he and I talked quietly near the warmth of the stove. “But it sounds like the schoolhouse that’s planned for the north side of town will be finished by the end of summer. The children will be required to attend there even if they’d rather be with you.”
“It’s so far for them to travel each day. It will be well over an hour each way for those living on the outlying farms and ranches.” I scooted my chair closer. “When it’s cold and snowy, many of them may not even go to school.”
“They love learning. You’ve given them that gift. That’s what will keep them going to school.”
I leaned back and ran my hand over my stomach. “It’s hard to understand. I thought God had sent me to do the Run so I could be independent and make my own way—prove that I never needed to rely on anyone else again.”
“And?”
“He brought wonderful children, like Anna, into my life so I could teach them to read and write and learn to do all their other studies. I really thought teaching was my calling, and now it’s slipping away.” I leaned forward and took my husband’s hands in mine. “But then He brought me you.”
“And soon our baby.” Daniel ran his finger over my wedding ring. “For a long time, you and I thought we’d find happiness in our independence—protect ourselves from losing anyone we cared about and the pain that comes with the loss.”
“But now we have others to love and care for … and worry about.”
He placed his forefinger gently across my lips. “I believe more than anything, God’s in all of this. I don’t understand why He asks us to use our gifts and callings at different times in our lives, but the one thing I am sure of, He’s asking us to simply trust.”
He kissed me softly, reminding me that forever and a day, we would continue on this race together we called life—the greatest Rush of all.
A Final Word from the Author
First of all, a heartfelt thanks for journeying back in time with me. The present is oftentimes demanding and the future may seem ominous, but there’s something special about the past that draws us in. It wraps us up like an heirloom quilt—a reminder that in many ways, we are part of it.
When I first began researching for this book—poring through old letters, records, and maps, reading books and articles, visiting sites in Oklahoma, and listening to family members’ recollections and retellings—I wasn’t sure how much fact about my ancestor’s story would be woven into the novel. To my pleasant surprise, a great amount of RUSH is true.
Mary Louisa Johnston Roberts Chessher (1860-1944) was the real name of my great-great grandmother. She was described as, “(Having) cut quite a figure, narrow-waisted, red hair, fair of skin. Not afraid of anything, an independent woman with an unquenchable spirit.”
Her husband, Aaron “Tuck” Roberts, left her and young son, Charles Wesley (their real names as well), to seek gold in Colorado after their two older sons died from pneumonia. Believing her husband was dead, Mary temporarily left her son in Missouri with her mother and successfully did the land run on her own, claiming 160 acres. She lived in a soddy, homesteaded, and taught school on the prairie. Mary did remarry, and yes … Tuck made a surprise “return from the dead.” It was quite uncommon for those days, but a divorce proclamation was issued.
My grandmother, Mildred Roberts Owens, was born in a foursquare house with a tin roof that eventually replaced the soddy. Her father, Charles Wesley Roberts, moved his family to Colorado in 1912, and that’s where another story begins—perhaps another book to write—because history keeps making itself and there are tales to be told.
If you enjoyed the story, please consider sharing a review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads. Word of mouth is still the best, so tell a friend about RUSH.
Also, book club discussion points, actual photos, and other informational links about this fascinating time in history are on my website.
I’m honored to be a part of the reading community—let’s stay in touch via my newsletter and blog—available at www.jaymehmansfield.com.
Here’s to the unquenchable spirit in all of us!
Jayme H. Mansfield
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