“Are you as tired as I am?” Heidi rubbed her hand over her belly.
“I’m sure you’re a lot more tired than me with Madeline to look after.”
“Michael is a big help, I must give him that. But you—you’re working, running a business. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Back rubs.”
Heidi raised her eyebrows. “Back rubs?”
“Yes. Hunter gives me wonderful back rubs.”
“I’ll have to have him teach Michael how to do that,” Heidi said.
“Here they are,” Michael said as he and the rest of the family joined the women in the garden where the family Independence Day picnic would take place. Every year Jesse and Tori hosted the event for their ever expanding family.
Heidi waved at Rachel. “There’s room here, Rachel. Get off your feet. You look like you’ve swallowed a watermelon. I think you’re having twins.”
“Well, thanks so much. Just what I need—two at once, and you don’t look much better, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Which Mrs. Henderson?” Emily and Heidi said.
“Both of you. The three of us sitting here look like a lineup of pudgy ducks waiting to be shot at the State Fair.”
“Well, move over and make room for one more, so we can be a lineup of four pudgy ducks.” Ellie released Max’s arm and joined her sisters-in-law and sister on the bench. “This will be a remarkable year, with four babies due before Christmas.”
“Ladies, you all look wonderful.” His arms full with a platter of meat, Jesse grinned at the women as he made his way to the fire pit.
Tori and Jesse’s four offspring, Paul, Priscilla, Henry, and Benjamin spilled from the house, along with Rusty’s daughter, Amelia, and Rachel’s son, Will. Priscilla and Amelia each carried a baby—Michael’s thirteen-month-old Catherine, and Rachel’s nine-month-old son, John. Michael’s four-year-old daughter, Madeline trailed behind, dragging her favorite doll, Dolly.
“Our brood is exploding,” Benjamin said, eyeing the four women from behind his spectacles as they fanned themselves on the bench.
“Instead of being a smart aleck, Ben, how about getting us some lemonade?” Ellie said.
“Coming right up, your majesties.” He bowed low.
“If it wasn’t so hard to get up, I’d cuff him,” Heidi said.
As usual at the Cochran-Henderson Fourth of July picnic, chaos reigned. Chicken and steaks were grilled by the men as they sipped cold beer, and the women roused themselves from their spot and helped bring out the beans, coleslaw, and potato salad from the kitchen.
Jesse finally called his brood to the enormously long table under a copse of trees. Once they were all settled, Rachel looked around. “Where’s Tori? Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her all afternoon.”
The others all looked around as well, as if she were hiding under the table or behind a tree.
“Here I am.” Tori approached the table, a slight smile on her face.
“Where were you?” Michael asked.
“I, um, took a short nap.”
“A nap?” Several of her family members said at once.
Jesse stood and held his hand out to Tori. “Come here, darlin’, I think we might as well tell them.”
“What?” Ellie said.
Jesse cleared his throat and tugged Tori to his side. “Tori’s pregnant.”
The silence that followed could be heard for miles. Even the birds in the trees stood still at the startling announcement.
Then shouts burst forth from the crowd. Michael and Hunter stood, and slapped Jesse on the back. “Well done, old man.”
Heidi, Ellie, Rachel, and Emily grinned at Tori. “Welcome to the club,” Emily said.
Priscilla slumped back in her seat. “Oh Mother, for heaven’s sake. How am I going to explain this to my friends?”
“You’d better not be able to explain anything, young lady,” Jesse said. Then he pulled Tori close and gave her a kiss to the cheers of the family.
Author’s Notes
The Smith Mansion is modeled after the Moody Mansion in Galveston, Texas. Completed in 1895, the Moody family and its descendants occupied the 28,000 square-foot, four-story structure from 1900 until 1986. Today, its rooms are filled with the furnishings and personal effects of the family and is open for tours. If you are ever in Galveston, take the tour. I found it fascinating. http://www.moodymansion.org/
Used by the Texas Rangers, the Walker Colt .44 was a five-pound frontier equivalent of a nuclear bomb and was known as the ‘gun that won the west.’
Judy Garland popularized the Harvey House restaurants in her 1946 movie The Harvey Girls. The string of restaurants founded by Fred Harvey fed the travelling public from 1876 to 1968 when the Hawaii-based Amfac Corporation bought the Harvey Company. Amfac applied the Harvey company’s high standards to their list of hotel and resort properties around the world.
At one time, morphine was a popular drug for treatment of severe injuries. It was used during the Civil War as a surgical anesthetic and was sent home with many wounded soldiers for pain relief.
In 1906 the Pure Food and Drug Act required accurate labeling of patent medicines and tonics. Various laws restricting the importation of opium were enacted, and the Harrison Narcotics Act (1914) prohibited possession of narcotics unless properly prescribed by a physician. Despite legislation, morphine maintained much of its popularity until heroin came into use, it in its turn believed to be a cure for morphine addiction.
http://www.infoplease.com/encyclopedia/science/morphine-history.html
Despite what the Police Chief told Emily, by the early 20th century, it was common for the police to intervene in cases of domestic violence in the United States, but arrests remained rare. Wife beating was made illegal in all states of the United States by 1920.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domestic_violence_in_the_United_States#Violence_Against_Women_Acts
Turn the page for an exciting preview of Callie Hutton’s A Run for Love.
Chapter 1
Late March, 1889
Maple Grove, Kansas
Tori Henderson’s hand shook as she studied the official-looking envelope. She’d held out hope the letter would never arrive. But she’d only been fooling herself.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Tears sprang to her eyes as she opened the envelope, slid out the paper. All laid out, very formal, very legal. She and her four nieces and nephews had fourteen days to leave their home, at which time the bank would take possession.
Homeless. Her insides shifted.
Her heart sped up as a newspaper with sweat dampened edges beckoned her from the chair near the fireplace. A large red circle, like a kiss, smack in the middle of the page. She’d used her teacher’s pencil one night when she couldn’t sleep. Her eyes moved away from the notice. No, she couldn’t go through with that plan. At best, a crazy idea. There had to be another way. The kids had already been through so much.
Yet, like a magnet, the newspaper drew her. She picked it up, read it once more, and slowly moved to the head of the stairs and shouted, “Michael, gather everyone together for a family meeting.”
She clutched the newspaper in one hand, the offensive letter in the other. Her mind made up, she moved to the parlor and lowered herself, then shifted, bringing her bottom into contact with a loose spring on the worn sofa.
Having the responsibility of four nieces and nephews weighed heavily on her shoulders. Now that she’d decided, she found herself too excited to sit. She hopped up and walked to the window. No buds appeared on trees yet, but it’d been a couple weeks since they’d had real cold weather. Had it been almost a month since her brother Henry’s funeral? Since she’d become a parent?
I’m not going to fail these children. We’re a family, and
families take care of their own.
Feet shuffled overhead, and the thud of a door slamming brought her out of her musings. She turned and greeted the children with a bright smile. How she wished she and her brother had been closer. The difference in their ages, and the mutual dislike between Henry and Aunt Martha, the woman who had raised her, had prevented that. If she had watched her nieces and nephews grow up, it would have been a huge help. Instead, she arrived on their doorstep the day of her brother’s funeral, barely knowing which face went with what name.
After spending the last few weeks here, she’d grown to love Henry’s children, and fully intended to do right by them.
Once they were all settled on the run-down couches and chairs, her glance shifted to the four faces watching her with various expressions. She forced her lips into a confident smile. “Listen to what was in the newspaper a few days ago.” She had to keep her voice calm.
“On March 3, 1889, President Harrison announced the government would open the 1.9 million-acre tract of Indian Territory for settlement precisely at noon on April 22. Anyone can join the race for the land.”
She glanced up. Silence greeted her. Not the eagerness she’d hoped for. Her smile faltered.
Rachel, fifteen, in a twenty-year-old’s body, hiked her chin in a stubborn manner. She would be a handful, that one. “I don’t want to move.”
Tori drew in a deep breath. “I realize that, but we have to face the fact that the money your papa left is almost gone, and I haven’t been able to find a job.”
Hunter squirmed. “Not even a teaching job?”
Oh how she’d tried. Even with her credentials and experience, she’d had no success. “No, honey. I’ve been told many times it’s too late in the school year for teaching jobs.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well they sure won’t be hiring teachers this late in the year, in—where did you say—Indian Territory?”
Tori counted to ten to keep from snapping at the girl. “I’m sure I can find tutoring jobs until a proper school can be set up. Then there will be teaching jobs.” Based on the smirk Rachel threw her, counting to twenty might be better. “And, I’m a fair baker. I can sell some of my pies and cookies to keep us going in the beginning.”
“You could do that here.” Ellie, the eleven-year-old who'd been her papa's favorite, wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks, her voice trembling slightly.
Tori’s insides twisted. So easy to feel sorry for the little girl. “No, darling, we won’t have a place to live if we stay here. The letter came from the bank today. We have two weeks to move. I can’t pay the mortgage, and the bank has found a buyer for the house.” She tucked a curl behind the little girl’s ear. “The small amount left from your papa’s savings will be enough to just get us there.”
“Where will we live?” Hunter’s brows came together over deep brown eyes with long lashes, so like the mother Tori knew only from pictures. A year older than Ellie, he kept to himself, spending a great deal of time writing in his journal. The child remained a mystery to her.
Tori leaned down and used her soothing teacher voice. “We’ll live in a tent on the land we claim. Then, after a while, we’ll build a real house.”
A mutiny appeared on the horizon. How could a twenty-two-year-old teacher convince four children she barely knew to leave the only home they’d ever known? Another deep breath, and she forged on. She didn’t have a choice.
“Think about it, we’ll all be in on something brand new. Something exciting, that will go down in the history books.”
Why must I turn everything into a lesson?
Rachel stood, hand on hip. “Can I go now?”
“When would we have to leave?” Almost a man at sixteen, Michael spoke slowly, a slight smile on his lips. His budding interest gave her some hope.
“As soon as possible. We can outfit your papa’s wagon, and pick up some supplies to get us through. We’ll need to go to Arkansas City, one of the starting points.”
Her gaze roamed the room. Be careful here. Her next words were dangerous territory.
“We can sell most of this stuff. The money will help, and it’s less to haul.”
Red faced, her eyes spitting fire, Rachel rounded on her. “You cannot sell my mother’s things.”
“You and Ellie can take two or three of your mother’s things, and Michael and Hunter,” she said, turning to them, “can take two or three things of your father’s. But I’m afraid there isn’t enough room to take everything.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s the only way, then we have to do it.” Michael, always the logical one, surveyed his brother and sisters. Hunter and Ellie nodded, while Rachel stomped from the room, up the stairs, then slammed her bedroom door.
Ignoring the queasiness in her stomach, Tori faced the remaining children. “Think how much fun this will be!”
Tori kicked the broken wagon wheel, sweat running down her face. “Dammit!” She glared at the wagon and flung her hands on her hips. Whatever made her think she could do this? The old wagon had barely gotten them here, and now she faced a split wheel. The rotted wooden spokes were practically crumbling before her eyes.
Michael studied her. “I’ll take the wheel over to the blacksmith to see if he can fix it.”
“I told you this whole idea was stupid.” Rachel scowled over her shoulder while she pulled out wet, sodden clothing from the tilted wagon.
Michael wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Rachel, cut it out, Tori needs our help.”
“I hate it here. We never should have left home.” The young girl’s voice trembled as she swiped at her tears.
With a shake of his head, Michael rolled the wheel out of the camp area.
Tori stared at her distraught niece. Things had not gotten off to a good start. The trip had taken twice as long as planned, the children had been cranky, and it had rained every day since they left. Now the wagon wheel had cracked, and if they didn’t get it fixed in time, they wouldn’t make the race.
She pasted a smile on her face and squared her shoulders in an effort to appear confident. Who are you fooling? You’re scared to death. Keeping the children’s spirits up drained her. If they were going to get through this, she needed to rally the troops.
Tori scanned the area. Thousands of people camped along the Kansas border outside Arkansas City, waiting for the bugles and cannons to announce the start of the race. They’d been camped for three days, and every day it grew more crowded.
The air crackled with excitement. Wagons packed close together, hundreds of families anxious to secure a piece of free land. Women prepared meals over campfires, keeping their eyes on small children, who raced around in the party-like atmosphere. The stench of animals and people all packed together wafted on the air, assailing her nostrils. The race started tomorrow at noon, but without the wheel they could forget it.
“Rachel, when you finish unloading, spread everything out to dry. I’m going to gather some kindling to start a fire for supper.”
Tori tied an apron around her waist and walked to the wooded area behind the camped wagons. With everyone scavenging, it got harder every day to find the kindling needed to start a fire.
She frowned in concentration, careful to avoid the holes dug by small animals and roots that would trip her up. Even with her spectacles on, and the setting sun behind her shoulder, she found it difficult to see the difference between a branch and a snake. Every once in a while, she stooped, picked up a small branch with two fingers, and put it in the pocket she had created with the front of her apron.
In the distance, she spotted several perfect branches, and hurried over to scoop them up. The moment she reached out, a strong hand grabbed her wrist.
“Excuse me, ma’am, those branches belong to me.” A deep velvet voice rolled over her, raising the fine
hairs on the nape of her neck in awareness.
Tori shaded her eyes with her free hand before she followed the man’s broad arms up to even broader shoulders. Curly brown hair that needed a trim peeked out from a well-worn Stetson. His white shirt, covered by a black leather vest, was tucked into a snug pair of denim pants that encased muscular thighs. The sun behind his head shadowed most of his face, but what she could see revealed a strong jaw with more than a day’s growth of beard. Yes, the voice, and everything that went with it, definitely male.
“I don’t know why you think branches lying on the ground in a wooded area belong to you, sir.” Tori yanked her wrist free from the stranger’s grip.
“Because I gathered them and put them there.” His lips thinned in annoyance.
“You shouldn’t have left them unattended.”
“I was gathering more.” He pushed his hat back with one finger. Mirth in his piercing blue eyes belied the scowl on his face. He smelled of sweat, horses, and man. Nothing offensive, just strong and somewhat pleasant.
A tingle ran down Tori’s spine, and her heart did a double thump. She stood far from camp, alone with a strange man. Was she mad? She didn’t know him, yet she stuck around to feud with him over some sticks. She thrust out her chin, needing the confidence. “Well, if you’re prepared to see a woman and four children miss supper for lack of firewood, then so be it.” She moved to go around him. “Excuse me.”
He stepped in her path. “Where is your husband, ma’am, and why does he let you roam around unescorted?”
“I don’t have a husband, and never will, thank you very much,” Tori huffed, meeting his gaze. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to prepare.”
Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) Page 25