Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor

by Rue Allyn

  Boone is a marshal, and has a most dangerous job. He recently left Tipton in search of the murderers who robbed us. I pray for his safe journey and return. Along with the men riding with him, of course.

  You would like Tipton, dear friend. It is larger than we are used to, and has everything a body could ask for. If I decide to marry Lucas, I believe I could be happy here.

  Mother wrote me about a few of the things happening back home. I hope that Edward Hardy is recovering from his bout with the grippe. I can only imagine what torture he is putting his wife through, she being so dainty and kind, and he being such a brute. Owing to my brothers, I have learned how pitiful men can be when they are sick!

  I trust Mr. Haygood is recovering well from his threshing accident. Poor man! Mother also mentioned Gertrude’s fine wedding. I am glad she finally got Robert to the altar!

  As another surprise, Mother commented that Richard Peters has been asking about me. Can you imagine! He hasn’t given me the time of day since we were pups!

  As to my return, I expect that it will be farther away than expected. There are so many details to work out. Not the least of which is my relationship with Lucas!

  Until we can meet again in person, I remain forever,

  Your dearest friend,

  Melinda

  • • •

  June 23, 1880

  Dear Mother,

  I am writing to tell you what has happened since my last letter.

  You will be happy to know I have found a potential buyer for Uncle Walter’s farm. As a matter of fact, I mentioned the man to you in my most recent letter. He is the Civil War captain, Lucas Wilhite.

  There are many details to attend to; therefore, I do not know the date of my departure.

  I thank you again for allowing me to undertake this journey. It has been most enlightening. Hope all are well. I send kisses.

  I think of you fondly, and will do so until we see each other again. I remain,

  Your loving daughter,

  Melinda

  • • •

  Melinda had been invited by Becky to attend the weekly Tipton Women’s Club gathering on Thursday. She excitedly prepared for the visit and planned her outfit carefully, finally choosing a light green day dress with a small bustle and ruffled collar.

  Mindy met Becky outside the meeting site, the First Congregational Church. The two talked in animated fashion about what had been going on since they last saw each other. Mindy suspected that Becky wanted to ask about what had happened when Boone came to talk to her, but the subject was never brought up. After all, it was a girls’ day!

  Inside, Becky introduced Mindy to some of the more active members of the club: Mrs. Celia Logan, the chairperson, Mrs. Zora Ponder, the secretary, and Miss Merle Lacy, a newcomer with great enthusiasm. Mindy tried to remember all the names, but they soon began to blend together.

  The meeting started and Mindy listened as the ladies talked about their plans for the upcoming Fourth of July celebration.

  “We’ve sent the announcements to our neighboring towns. I took care of that last week, so we should have plenty of company,” Mrs. Ponder said.

  “And I’ve heard back from Senator Watson and Governor Terry. They both plan to be here and have agreed to honor us with speeches for the occasion,” said Miss Lacy.

  “Delightful!” Mrs. Logan clapped her hands. “Now, what’s next? Oh yes! Steven Knight has agreed to provide two cows and a pig for the barbeque, and Bill Daves of the fire squad has agreed to obtain the fireworks.”

  The plans continued and Mindy grew more excited. She didn’t know if she would still be in town for the event, but it certainly sounded exhilarating!

  Becky spoke up. “Mother and I, and Mindy here, will sew and hang the bunting.” She smiled when Mindy looked at her openmouthed. “You can sew, can’t you?” she whispered.

  Mindy smiled and nodded, thrilled to take part in the festivities and have something to do. She needed to keep her mind off a certain man.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Rich and Lee Byler were knee-walking drunk. They exited the Peacock Saloon and lurched into their saddles. The time had come for them to face their mother. A bright, full moon lit their way as they eased toward home.

  As they pulled to a halt in front of the old homestead, a run-down mud and frame shack, Lee hollered out, “Ma! We’re home!”

  Rich lolled in his seat, grasping at the pommel with both hands before falling sideways from the horse.

  Lee started laughing. “Hey, Ma!” he shouted. “Ma!”

  A light flickered behind one of the shuttered windows and grew steadily brighter. In a moment, a tiny, gray-headed woman opened the door. She wore a nightgown, and carried an oil lamp. “What is it? What’s the racket about?” Her voice was shrill.

  Lee hollered, “They’re dead, Ma. The boys are dead … ” He looked at Rich on the ground and began to laugh. “And we’re dead … drunk!”

  The woman stepped farther into the yard. “What do you mean, they’re dead? Where are your brothers?” Her voice rose. “You tell me what you mean, boy!”

  Lee put on a sober face. “They killed ’em, Ma. Tweren’t nothing we could do. It’s just me and Rich now.” Lee climbed down off his horse and walked toward his mother, but she waved him off.

  “Where’s my baby? Where’s my Roger?”

  “He’s gone, Ma. That’s what I’m saying. Him and Ben were shot dead.”

  The woman threw her head back and began to keen. She collapsed in a heap and put her head to the ground. “No!” she cried. “Not my baby!”

  “It were Ben, too, Ma,” Rich said from his position in the dirt. He had seen the wisdom in staying where he was; his legs didn’t seem to be working. “But they died brave. You’da been proud of them.”

  Rich’s mother never heard. Her sorrow was overwhelming. The boys looked at one another. They’d never heard a sound like the one their mother made. It was eerie, and echoed in the dark night, chilling the bones.

  Lee began to cry. He staggered to where his mother sat on the ground. Moving the lamp aside, he knelt with her, putting one hand on her back. “It’ll be all right, Ma.”

  The woman rose up and smacked his hand away. She stared him in the eyes and spat, “How could you let this happen? Better you die than my Roger. He was just a boy.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You boys have always been worthless. Good for nothing but shooting! But my Roger was an angel. How could you let something like this happen to him?”

  Lee sat dumbfounded. He looked over to Rich, who was passed flat out on the cold, gray dirt of the front yard. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother drew back an arm and slapped him with all her might.

  “I don’t know where you’ll be sleeping tonight, but it’ll not be in my house! And you can drag your sot of a brother out of my sight!”

  Lee reached for her, but his mother staggered to her feet, pitched into the house, and slammed the door. When her wailing began again in earnest, Lee walked over to his brother and kicked him in the ribs.

  “Ugh!” cried Rich. “Whaddya … whaddya … doin’?”

  “Get up! I ain’t carrying you. We gotta bunk in the barn, so get up!”

  “Wait,” Rich said. “Gimme … just a minute.”

  “Take all the time you need, brother.” Lee wiped his face, then turned and stumbled off in the direction of the lean-to barn, leaving his brother where he lay.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Lucas took Mindy to the 49ers Restaurant for lunch on Saturday. It was two crowded rooms with cloth-covered, square tables and a long counter. The top half of the walls were painted a bright pink, with white wainscoting beneath. Colorful paintings in wooden frames decorated the space and lent it a homey atmosphere.

  Once Lucas and Mindy were seated, a harried lady in a flowered apron came by the table and plopped down menus.

  Saturdays:

  Son-of-a-Gun Stew

  Fried l
iver and onions

  Calves’ feet

  Roast mutton

  Grits and gravy

  Fried potatoes

  Fried eggs

  Vegetables (whatever’s fresh)

  Vinegar pie

  Molasses pie

  Fried fruit turnovers

  $1.25 a meal

  “Oh my,” Mindy said with a laugh. “I love molasses pie and fried turnovers! Can we start with dessert first?”

  Lucas took her hand across the table. “We can do anything you want.”

  Mindy’s smile slid from her face as she slid her hand from his. “Lucas, don’t … ”

  “No, no. Let’s don’t talk about anything negative today. We’ve worked out our differences, and I want to stay on the right course.”

  “It’s just that — ”

  “Mindy, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d like for you to let the past go. The fight was unexpected yet unavoidable, in my opinion. When I saw Boone with another woman, I became enraged.” Mindy’s eyes widened, and he continued, “I couldn’t stand the thought of him deceiving you. I spoke to him, and he attacked me. There was nothing I could do. I hope you understand.”

  “He was with another … ?”

  “Yes, dear. He was in one of the saloons.”

  Mindy put her hand to her mouth. She sat back in her chair to absorb the information. Had Boone kissed another girl the way he kissed her? Were his kisses given away so freely? The thought of his lips touching another’s quelled her spirits.

  “I hope I haven’t disturbed you, Melinda,” Lucas said with a concerned look.

  “No. Of course not,” Mindy said, flapping her cloth napkin onto her lap. “I’ve simply never thought of Boone doing that sort of thing.”

  “You’d be surprised what men will do. After serving in the army, I can tell you that men always amaze you. When they should be brave, they cower. When they should be honorable, they are base and dishonest. Now, what will you have to eat?”

  Mindy studied the menu before she said, “I think I’ll have the mutton, please.”

  “The liver and onions are very good. I would recommend that. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll order it for both of us. You will be very pleased.”

  When the aproned lady came by, Lucas flagged her down. “We’ll have two livers, please. Then give us each the fried potatoes and a helping of the vegetables — what are they today?”

  “Parsnips.”

  “Wonderful. We’ll have dessert afterwards.” When the woman walked away, Lucas turned back to Mindy. “I think you’ll be much happier with the liver.” He smiled warmly.

  Mindy folded her hands into her lap, and nodded.

  Nearby, a ruckus started. A deliveryman was in a heated argument with the owner of the restaurant.

  “Them’s the prices they told me, them’s the prices I go by.”

  “How can I make any money at these prices?” the bespectacled, whiskered owner said. “Twenty-seven cents for a bushel of potatoes! Sugar up to fifteen cents a pound!”

  “There’s nothing I can do about it, neighbor. I just deliver the goods.”

  The owner pulled some bills out of the cash register and handed them over.

  “Since the gold rush, everything has gone up in price,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “During the heyday, there were places where potatoes sold for a dollar and a half a pound. Eggs and oysters were a dollar each!”

  “You don’t mean it!” Mindy said.

  “I do. Greed will do strange things to people.”

  The meal came and the pair ate in relative silence. Mindy found that she didn’t have much to say. But the liver and onions was good, she had to admit.

  “Have you made a decision about the property?” Mindy asked, as she stopped to take a drink of tea.

  “Yes. I’ll buy it, if you’ll take three dollars an acre. That’s over four hundred dollars for a little girl like you.”

  Mindy bristled. “First of all, I’m not a little girl. Secondly, I’m selling the property for my mother. And finally, I will not take three dollars an acre. I have been told property here sells for much more than that.”

  “You’ll not get more in this economy,” Lucas blustered.

  “Then I’ll hold it,” Mindy replied.

  “Now, wait a minute. I have every intention of buying that property, Melinda. How much do you want per acre?”

  “Four and a quarter.”

  “You must be joking!”

  Mindy stared into Lucas’s face.

  “Fine. Fine! Four dollars an acre, then.”

  Mindy paused, and then nodded. “I think that will be sufficient.”

  “You know that’s close to six hundred dollars? What will your mother do with that kind of money? Will you see any of it?”

  “Why? Does that matter?”

  “No, of course not. I just wanted to see if you would be well-situated,” Lucas said. “I wouldn’t want to worry about you. I’ve told you I care for you, Melinda. I mean it.”

  Mindy bowed her head. “I’m not sure about anything right now, Lucas.”

  “I understand, but I plan to purchase the property either way. I have hopes of us living there together as man and wife. Without you, that farm is next to worthless.”

  “Then I would not recommend you purchase it at this time, Lucas. I … ”

  “Forget I said anything. We’ve got plenty of time. We’ll go by the bank when we leave here. I’ll transfer the funds and you won’t have to worry about that anymore. Only if — ”

  “No more talk. Let’s have dessert.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was less than a week before the Fourth of July. The ladies of the Tipton Women’s Club had been active little bees. Holding another impromptu midweek meeting, they reported on the activities lined up for the celebration.

  Merle Lacy bubbled. “Everything is set for the rodeo. It’s to start at six P.M. We already have several cowboys signed up, and I’m sure there’ll be more. It should be thrilling!”

  Some of the other women in the room tittered, and began whispering.

  “Now, quiet down, ladies, please,” said Mrs. Celia Logan, the chairperson. “I know we’re excited, but we have much to do. Let’s stay on track. I think we should go over our items in the order the events will take place. Perhaps it will be less confusing.” She looked at a pile of papers on her podium. “That means we start with the parade. That’s you, Ivy Faith, isn’t it?” Mrs. Logan turned to a middle-aged woman with brown hair and a dimpled face, sitting in the second pew.

  Standing, the lady said, “Yes, Celia. The parade will begin at ten o’clock. That should give our visitors time to arrive and get settled. We will meet with all the participants at the north end of Main Street to line up and then we’ll proceed south.” She smiled sweetly. “We have cowboys, kids on horseback, three motor carriages, the Tipton General Band, and assorted wagons that will be gaily decorated.”

  “You’ve done a fine job coordinating that, Ivy,” Mrs. Logan said. “Next, is … Mary Hubbard and Brenda Murphree. You ladies are taking care of the games of skill?”

  Those two ladies stood and looked at one another. One gestured for the other to do the speaking. Mary began, “We have decided on a number of games for the afternoon. So far, we have a pulling contest, a greased pig, a greased pole, an egg toss, a frog toss, a three-legged race, a horse race, and an Old Timer’s horse race, for those men who are fifty and above.” She nodded to the other ladies as they made exclamations. “People can sign up before each event for fifty cents and we’ll have cakes and pies donated as prizes for the winners.”

  “You heard that, ladies. We need those cakes and pies. We want to have lots of winners,” Celia said.

  Mindy leaned over to Becky. “Does it matter what kind of cake or pie it is?” she whispered.

  Becky shook her head.

  “Then I’d like to make a couple of apple pies, if you will allow me to use your kitchen.”

 
Becky took Mindy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll do it together!”

  About that time, they heard a loud “harrumph” from the front of the room.

  Becky stood. “I’m sorry. We were discussing pies.” She looked around at the happy faces. “Mindy and I have been working on the bunting and have it almost ready. We’ll begin decorating downtown tomorrow or the next day, and yes, we’ll take all the help we can get!”

  She sat down and Mindy gave her a nod. “Good job!”

  Celia voiced her encouragement. “Next, let’s see … oops! I forgot our noon meal, but that’s being handled by the men and only deserves a brief mention.” She paused and gave a knowing look to her audience. The ladies all laughed. “Yes, we’ll be following up behind them all day! We’ll need food items to go along with the meat, so I expect everyone to bring a dish and a dessert. And you know the men will forget things like plates and cups and things of that nature … ”

  “Or won’t want to use them!” someone shouted.

  “I expect you are right,” said Celia. “I’d like a couple of women willing to oversee that task. Barbara? Isn’t your husband one of the cooks that day? Then we’ll put you down. Select some women to help you, please.” Celia waited for a nod from that lady. “The speeches by our prominent men will take place after the games. Then, last but not least, will be the fireworks display, and the men have that handled, as well. Our job will be to pray. Let’s hope the whole town doesn’t go up in smoke!”

  This comment was met with many chuckles. Celia waited until it subsided before speaking. “Is there anything else? If not, I expect everyone to help out somewhere. And this meeting is adjourned.” She slammed a gavel.