“How could they ever afford that? I know the world of finance has bettered itself, according to what I read in the papers, but we’re still suffering the effects of a depression.”
Tyler Atherton’s expression softened, and Jessica saw a hint of amusement in his gaze.
“You always were the smart one. I appreciate you bein’ up-to-date on current events. And you’re right. We are still sufferin’, but less so than other folks. Like your brothers said in their last letter, a lot of folk don’t even have a house to call home.
“Will and I figure if we kick in enough money to keep the doctor satisfied with or without patients, sick folks will come around in time. After all, in this forty-mile radius there are over a hundred people. That doesn’t include the folks who live in Cedar Springs, where there’s several hundred. And when the railroad is established, more people will arrive to set up businesses. I figure we won’t have to pay the doc forever—just long enough to get him on his feet.”
“Your father and Mr. Barnett figure they can set the man up with a little house of his own, from which he can work and live,” Mother said before sipping her tea.
“That’s right,” Father said. “If he lives rent free and we provide him with beef and canned goods from our gardens, then he’ll have only a few expenses to meet. We’ll probably look to get a preacher the same way. Of course, he’ll have the tithes to help him out.”
Jessica nodded and popped another piece of muffin into her mouth. She supposed they had reasoned out all the possibilities and problems.
“So the gathering is to be a picnic—a barbecue,” her mother said, smiling. “Most everyone will be in attendance, so I would hate for people to say that our daughter didn’t care enough to join her neighbors in discussion and celebration.”
“Folks around here will look for any reason to have a party,” Jessica said, toying with the cabbage and ham. “You hardly need my stamp of approval to draw in the crowds.”
Her mother frowned. “Jessica, this really isn’t like you. What’s going on?”
Her accusing tone caused Jessica to sit up a little straighter. “Nothing. I just don’t know that I want to be around a lot of people. We just had the cattle women here. It’s not like I have no chance to socialize.”
Her mother eyed her with suspicion. “You’ve never shied away from parties in the past. What is this really about?”
“Maybe I’m changing,” Jessica replied with a frown. “Maybe I was too focused on parties before. Doesn’t a person have a right to change?”
“Well, you don’t need to go changing, darlin’,” her father threw out. “You’re practically perfect the way you are, just like your mama.”
Her mother blushed, and Jessica bit her lip to keep from blurting out that she was nothing of the kind. But if she said anything at all, her mother would want to know more, and Jessica wasn’t done wrestling with her conscience. She had no answers that would satisfy her mother’s curiosity.
Chapter 3
It was a typical Barnett party with glowing lanterns hanging from lower tree branches and on well-positioned poles. Multitudes of quickly built tables and benches were set up for people to relax and enjoy the meal. Other food-laden tables were arranged in such a manner as to allow people to serve themselves from both sides. Jessica and her mother had helped to supply some of the meal, but most of it had come from Mrs. Barnett’s kitchen.
Once everyone was filled up on smoked ham, green beans, potatoes, corn bread, cheesy grits, and baked beans, not to mention an array of desserts, Mr. Barnett began to discuss the plan he and others had been working on.
“Each of you men should have received a drawing of what we have in mind. My wife and daughter-in-law drew those up so you wouldn’t have to suffer through my attempts to make sense.” A chuckle ran through the gathering, and most of the men held up their maps as if in answer.
Mr. Barnett nodded his approval. “Now, if you’ll look at the drawing, you’ll see that we’ve tentatively called the town Terryton. This is in honor of Ted and Marietta Terry. Ted often joked that he’d been in Texas longer than mesquite, so we figured he deserved a town named for him.” Again the crowd chuckled.
“I know everyone misses ’em, but bein’ the godly folk they were, I know we’ll see ’em again in heaven.” A murmuring of “amen” went up throughout the crowd.
Everyone seemed to be in such a good mood. To Jessica’s way of thinking, there was no reason for them to be anything else. They were full and safe and, for the most part, healthy. Indian problems were no longer an issue. There’d been no epidemics or storms of late to wreak havoc upon the people or the land. God was in His heaven, and all was right with the world. What better time to create an entirely new community?
“Tyler Atherton and I have talked with a lawyer. He plans to join us sometime in the near future. His name is Harrison Gable. He’s from Dallas but will relocate if we all come together to set this thing in motion.”
“What’s required of us?” Mr. Palmer asked.
William Barnett smiled. “Patience, support—both financially and intellectually—and faith that together we can accomplish this.”
“Pardon me for sayin’ so,” Mr. Harper, another area rancher, piped up, “but it seems to me we are still facin’ perilous times. It’s only been three years since this country fell flat on its face. I think we might be rushin’ things a bit.”
“But if I might interject,” Jessica’s uncle Brandon Reid said, moving closer to the front of the gathering, “three years has also seen us regain considerable ground. Industry is back on its feet, the solvent banks have rebounded, and the railroad has gone through rebuilding and in some cases a change of ownership. I think this is the perfect time for us to consider such an endeavor.”
Jessica listened, only mildly interested, as the conversation continued. Most of the people seemed excited about the potential for a church and a school, not to mention an easier way to get to Dallas. She couldn’t help but wonder what the changes might mean for her. She’d grown up with all of her needs met, but many of these folks had struggled. Some families had even sold out and moved away because they’d been unable to make a living in the intolerable conditions.
She toyed with a piece of pecan pie and continued to listen half-heartedly. She heard a man question something about law enforcement and wondered if it might be the Texas cattle inspector she’d heard her father talk about. Glancing around, she tried to see who was speaking but couldn’t.
“Having law and order is always uppermost on the minds of the people,” Mr. Barnett declared. “We have solid plans drawn up for a town marshal to be in place before the first locomotive arrives in Terryton.”
“Will he be elected?” Mr. Harper questioned. “I don’t want any appointed man.”
“Yes, there will be an election,” Barnett assured him, “but only of those who sign on to assist with this project. You see, until there’s a true town and population to make decisions, we will need some sort of board or co-op to see to the running of this town. That will include the position of a mayor. This board will act as the counsel for the mayor and the marshal.”
Jessica tired of the talk and her pie and got up from the table on the pretense of needing to refill her glass of lemonade. She made her way to the table where several pitchers of liquid stood waiting. The lemonade and iced sweet tea had been kept chilled in their springhouse, but having been out for several hours now, Jessica knew neither would be cold. Nevertheless she poured herself a glass of lemonade and began to slowly walk around the edge of the party.
Watching from a distance gave her more clarity. She studied with different eyes these people she’d known all her life. She could understand their fears of change. Change suggested a loss of control of the familiar. It could be a terrifying situation. But change could also be new and invigorating. Jessica had always relished change in that respect. Now, though, with everything going on in her life, she wasn’t finding herself keen on the idea.
Wh
at’s wrong with me? Is this what growing up is all about? Am I suddenly to become a fearful woman—afraid of my own shadow—unwilling to risk something different?
Jessica could see the hopeful expressions on the faces of mothers as Mr. Barnett spoke of a school and a church being their first building priorities. Such things equaled stability in the eyes of the gentler sex. But didn’t they already have stability in the community? The area ranchers were good to help one another in times of need. The children already had a school and the people had a church to attend, although both were far enough away to discourage attendance. Why pull out of one town just to create another?
Without looking where she was going, Jessica backed away from the gathering. She turned abruptly and found herself face-to-face with a stranger. “Oh, excuse me.” The glass of lemonade fell to the grass and spilled out across the man’s boots.
“It was my fault,” the man declared. “If I hadn’t been hiding out over here, you wouldn’t have had any trouble.” He wiped his boot tops on the backs of his denim pants. “There. Now they’re clean.”
She smiled at the dark-eyed man and forgot about the glass. “I’m Jessica Atherton.”
“Austin Todd,” he replied. “I’m new to the area. I bought a small piece of land from Mr. Barnett.”
“Oh, I know all about you. You’ve been the topic of conversation at many a meal or gathering.”
He chuckled at this. “Really? And what are people saying about me?”
“That you’re a cattle inspector who likes privacy.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, no, but are you certain you want to know the truth?”
He frowned. “Is it that bad?”
Laughing, Jessica shook her head. “Not at all. Most of the women with single daughters are wondering if you’re a good catch. Of course, for some of them, the only qualification a man need have is that he be breathing. And those single daughters are murmuring about you under their breath. They want to know what kind of provider you might be or how attentive you are to their gender. They have assessed you from head to toe and found you to be mysterious, handsome, and definitely of interest.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Oh, and the men seem to admire you greatly. Probably because my father and Mr. Barnett have told everyone how you saved the day in Fort Worth when you shot down three bank robbers.”
She looked at him with a raised brow. “I think that’s about all.”
“It’s more than enough,” he replied. “I appreciate the honesty. However, I had no idea I was being discussed in such detail.”
Jessica shrugged. “I tend to speak my mind and that of other folks, as well. It’s sort of a problem of mine.”
“I don’t see honesty as a problem.”
She leaned back against an oak tree. “Neither do I, but I have learned that most people aren’t that interested in the truth.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged again. “Well, it sure seems that way. Most people avoid hearing the truth—at least the way I see it. Sick folks don’t want to know that they’re dying. Spurned lovers don’t want to know that it really was their own fault the relationship couldn’t work out. Women don’t want to know that their new dress is the most atrocious thing you’ve ever seen.”
Austin let out a roar, and Jessica was glad the gathering had grown noisy, with numerous people all speaking at once. She pulled Austin back into the shadows. “You’re going to have everyone wanting in on the joke.”
“Sorry. I was just remembering a few atrocious dresses my mother owned. She was always asking my father how she looked, and of course, you are right. He couldn’t really tell her.”
Jessica nodded, imagining the situation. “It’s really a kindness in some ways. Mother says it’s still a lie and therefore a sin, but I know it’s more often done out of good intentions than bad. Still, I prefer the truth.”
“Always?”
She fixed him with a gaze. “Always.”
“You’re different from most women, then.”
“I am. I make no claim to be otherwise. It’s probably why I’m still unmarried and living with my parents. No one wants a blunt wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see if my mother wants help with the dishes.”
“It was nice to make your acquaintance,” Austin said. “And I honestly hope we can speak again sometime.”
“I’m sure we will. After all, this town idea isn’t going to just go away.” Smiling, Jessica couldn’t help but tease him. “I hope you won’t worry overmuch about what people are saying about you.”
“I make it a habit not to care what anyone thinks.”
Jessica sobered. “I used to feel that way, but I’ve found it hasn’t served me exactly as I’d hoped.”
Austin thought about Jessica Atherton for a long time after she’d gone. He found her a refreshing change of pace, but at the same time her last comment confused him. Then he remember the glass she’d dropped and moved back to retrieve it. Luckily, it hadn’t shattered. Making his way to where folks had been instructed to leave their dishes, Austin placed the glass on a tray alongside others.
“I hope you got enough to eat, Mr. Todd,” Mrs. Barnett said, coming beside him with several more glasses.
“Yes, ma’am. I got plenty, and please call me Austin.”
“I’d like that very much, and you can call me Hannah.” She placed the glasses on the tray, then started to lift it.
Austin reached out to stop her. “Allow me.” He picked up the tray and looked at her for further instruction.
“I was going to take them over to where we’re washing dishes. It’s that table just over there.” She pointed to where several women, including Jessica Atherton, were working to clean up the numerous dishes and cups.
“Looks like folks are still grazin’,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.
Hannah laughed. “They will be until they load up for home. Even so, it’s best to keep on top of the dishes. Someone might need a clean plate, and I’ve exhausted all of mine.”
“I thought most of them brought their own table settings. Robert said something about that earlier. I felt rather remiss, but in all honesty I don’t have anything all that fine.”
She leaned closer as if to tell him a secret. “Well, I’ve never yet expected a single man to show up with his dinnerware or food to contribute. Usually when we get together around these parts, we do it potluck style, and everyone brings food to eat and their own dishes to eat it on. This was just a little bit different because Will wanted to provide for everyone. I think it was his way of winning them over to agree to the building of Terryton.”
“Well, you know, they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
“Yes, I know that full well. I also know you can get right through to his head with a piece of Rosita’s Mexican chocolate cake.”
“I’m not sure I had any of that.”
She took the tray from him and motioned with her head. “Then you’d better try it. It’s chocolaty and moist with a hint of cinnamon, and her buttercream frosting tops it off perfectly.”
Austin nodded. “I think you’ve convinced me. I hope there’s some left.”
“Oh, there is,” Mrs. Barnett assured him. “She made twelve of them.”
Making his way to the dessert table, Austin spied the chocolate cake. He hurried to take up a dessert plate and sample the treat. It was just as Mrs. Barnett had said. It’d been a long time since Austin had enjoyed anything nearly as much.
“I see you found Rosita’s prize-winning cake,” Mr. Barnett said, joining him at the dessert table. “It’s pretty amazing. I’m here for a second piece, but don’t tell my wife. She thinks I’m getting pudgy in my old age.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Mr. Barnett secured his cake, then suggested Austin join him at an empty table. “So what did you think of our talk tonight?” He waited until Austin was seated before adding, “I want your honest opinion.”
The comment reminded Austin of his earlier conversation with Jessica and made him smile. “Well, Mr. Barnett—”
“Call me Will,” the older man interjected.
Austin nodded. “It sounds to me you’ve thought of everything. I couldn’t really find fault with any of it, even if I do wish things could remain quiet and simple around here.”
“I know. A lot of folks are against change, but I believe it’s the way of the future. It’s hard to imagine, but the way Dallas is growing, I expect one day all of this land will be a part of that city.”
“Surely not,” Austin countered. “That’s a long way to come. Besides, I thought building up was the new style. What is it they call ’em—skyscrapers? There are a lot of them back east.”
Chuckling, William cut into his cake. “Yeah, I read about some buildings going up in London, England. It said that Queen Victoria put a limit on how high they can build. I figure we’re still a rebellious country, however, and we won’t have any restrictions put on ours.”
“So maybe Dallas can just build up and not out.”
“I doubt it. Texas has a lot going for itself with all its resources. We’ve had to tighten our belts during this financial upheaval, but we definitely have known harder times. During the War Between the States, it was mighty difficult. Still, I think this state is probably one of the healthier ones.”
“Or maybe it’s just that you know how to get through a bad situation and still find the good,” Austin suggested.
“Maybe.”
Will turned his attention back to his cake, and for a moment nothing more was said. Austin wasn’t sure if he’d offended the man or not, but it certainly hadn’t been his desire. He wondered if he should apologize, but just then Barnett began talking.
“The way I see it, this is all gonna be prime real estate. Not that it isn’t already a good investment, but I figure now’s the time to build and invest in the property.”
“What about the ranches? Do you think folks will just up and sell?” Austin asked.
The older man rubbed his chin. William Barnett was a man known for his thoughtful consideration, something Austin had witnessed many times.
A Matter of Heart Page 3