Copyright © 2019 by Laura Conner Kestner
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2019
978-1-7327562-2-9
Sycamore House Publishing
P.O. Box 344
De Leon, Texas 76444
www.lauraconnerkestner.com
For my husband John Alan Kestner,
quite simply the nicest guy I know.
For Coby, Jay, Charlie, Josie, Jordie, Burt, Mallie, Cole, Emily, Audrey, Ryan and John Ryan—collectively the biggest blessing in a truly blessed life.
For Mama and Daddy. Thank you for the love, and for the Texas pride and the Okie determination.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Epilogue
Author Bio
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Kathy and David Prickett, Debra Owen, Charlotte Jacks, Sue Keith, Karen Keith, Donna Irby, Tricia Hopkins, Sylvia King, Jordan Atkins, Coby Sauce, Audrey Gibson, Emily Atkins, Bob and Kathy Tarpley, Rachel Spencer and Madalene Spencer for reading this book and offering feedback.
A special thanks to Karen Wright and Mary Yantis, two ladies who wield red pens with an expertise matched only by their ability to educate and encourage.
Thank you also to the following for the support shown me on the release of Remember Texas, the first book in this series: Anna Horton, Darla McLeod, Adina Dunn, Dublin Public Library, Patty Hirst, Dublin Thursday Club, Mary Yantis, Karen Wright, Dublin Historical Museum, De Leon Free Press, Jon Awbrey, Sarah Awbrey, Kay Hodges, Dublin Citizen, Best Value Dublin Pharmacy, Angelee Gibson, Kymbirlee Jeschke, Hamilton Herald-News, Hamilton Public Library, Picketville Chapter of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas, Dublin Rodeo Heritage Museum, Writing Sisters Mentoring Group, and author Tina Radcliffe. I wish I could name everyone who cheered me on in some way, but there is not enough room here. If you bought my first book, wrote a review, told a friend about it, hosted me on your blog, or even liked, shared, or commented on a social media post, I appreciate you more than I can say.
Author’s note: One incident in A Texas Promise was inspired by a true story, but the story as written here is not how the situation was resolved in real life. Please see my website at lauraconnerkestner.com for more details on what really happened.
Chapter One
Moccasin Rock, Texas
October 1891
Elijah Calhoun didn’t know the woman wandering around Martin’s Mercantile, but he knew she was in trouble.
There were scratches on her face and hands, her long brown hair was tangled, and her bare feet, peeking out from the hem of a dirty, threadbare calico dress, were filthy—as was the bunched-up blanket in her arms. But the vacant look in her eyes worried him most.
“Ma’am, my name’s Eli. I’m the sheriff here in Moccasin Rock. Can I help you with something?”
She glanced at the badge pinned to his vest. At least she understood some of what he was saying. Then she turned away, made a soft crooning sound, and began looking over the merchandise on the shelves again.
“Are you searching for something in particular? If you don’t see what you need, I bet Silas might have it in his storeroom out back. He’s the owner here. He can help you.” Eli stepped closer.
The woman didn’t seem grateful for the personal attention. Her eyes widened and her arms tightened around the blanket as she took a few limping steps away from him.
Eli was trying to figure out another approach when Silas Martin’s insistent whispers drew his attention from across the room. “She’s not going to talk to you, I done told you that.”
The woman’s gaze swung toward Silas for a moment and then back to Eli, but there was no real awareness in her eyes.
Eli moved closer to the storekeeper and lowered his voice. “Has she ever been in here before?”
“Nope, never laid eyes on her until a little while ago.”
“She hasn’t said anything to you?”
Silas shook his head. “Not a word. She wandered in here, clutching that bundle of rags and humming, and then walked over to the shelves and started going through all the merchandise. I tried to find out what she wanted, told her I’d help her locate it, if she’d please leave everything alone. Look at her; she’s dirtier than that old sow of Adger Wilson’s that roams all over town.”
Eli’s jaw tightened. “No need to be unkind.” He glanced at the woman again. “I think she’s got some serious problems.”
Silas’s shiny bald head reddened and his big mustache quivered as his exasperation increased. “I’m aware of that, Eli, that’s why you’re here. She ain’t acting right. Now do something. I’m sorry for her troubles, whatever they may be, but I need her to go. No respectable woman will want to come in and shop with her here.”
It was all Eli could do to keep from snorting in disgust at that statement. The morning sun spilling in through the window facing Main Street clearly illuminated the general chaos of the place. There were barrels and crates stacked haphazardly, full to overflowing with merchandise that Silas hadn’t managed to sort and place, and the shelves and counter were packed.
Silas seemed to follow Eli’s train of thought as he reached out and straightened a stack of fabric. “I gotta lot of work to do. Get her outta here, Sheriff. That’s all I’m asking.”
Eli nodded. “Let me talk to her for a minute. It won’t help the situation if I frighten her.”
The woman had stopped wandering while they spoke, and now picked up a bottle of Dr. Goode’s Miracle Elixir off the shelf with her free hand. She studied it a moment, and then sat it down and began unwinding the blanket in her arms.
Eli waited until she was immersed in her task before easing his way closer and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The woman stiffened and tried to jerk away. He mimicked the soft crooning sounds she’d made until she relaxed. The odor of smoke tickled his nostrils. It was
coming from the woman’s dress, and not just the woodstove that Silas had fired up to ward off the autumn chill. Where had she been?
When he was confident she wouldn’t panic, Eli reached for the blanket. “Ma’am, can I hold that for you while you open the medicine?
She looked directly at him then, and Eli caught his breath. Up close, her eyes were a golden brown color, and the prettiest he’d ever seen. But there were shadows under them and the scratches on her face were even worse than he’d realized.
The woman nodded, and it took a moment for Eli to remember what he’d asked her. He could still hear Silas grumbling in the background as she transferred the small bundle to his hands.
Eli realized immediately what he was holding. An icy dread filled him as he pulled open the blanket and looked inside. His stomach sank.
A newborn. The poor child had been wiped clean but not washed thoroughly, and the umbilical cord was still attached. The woman reached out and trailed a finger down the baby girl’s cheeks with such gentleness that Eli’s throat tightened.
He touched the cold little body—every bit as gently—then nearly dropped her when she squirmed, gave a weak cry, and drew in her bottom lip in a suckling motion.
Clutching her closer, Eli’s gaze flew to Silas. “Go find Nathaniel, now! Tell him to get here as fast as he can. And bring Peg Harmon if you can find her.”
The urgency of Eli’s tone made Silas abandon his litany of complaints and slam out the door at a run, leaving the bell on top ringing furiously in his wake.
Nathaniel, Eli’s younger brother, was barely out of medical school, but he was the only doctor that Moccasin Rock had at the moment. Peg Harmon had been delivering babies around the area for years. Eli didn’t believe either of them could do a thing for the child—she was too tiny and too chilled to live—but her mother needed their help in a big way.
The woman reached for the baby now, confusion in her eyes when Eli didn’t relinquish the bundle.
“I’ll hold her,” he said softly.
Shaking her head, she pulled at his arm and then pointed to the medicine bottle. Although she hadn’t said a word, her plea was clear. Help my baby. Suddenly she stilled, swayed, and crumpled to the floor.
Clutching the child in one arm, Eli crouched beside her, and then let out a ragged breath when he realized she’d only fainted. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered, hoping it was true. Hurry, Nathaniel.
Eli had only recently become a praying man and still felt a little awkward trying to talk to God, but he sent a prayer up now, swallowing around a lump in his throat to get the words out. The sum of it was, Please, Lord, help me to help them.
Settling down with his back to the counter, Eli hugged the infant to his chest and pulled his coat over her.
He didn’t know the circumstances surrounding this baby girl’s entry into the world, but the least he could do was offer her a little comfort and warmth on her way out.
* * *
Maggie Radford fought the hands that held her down, as she had so many times in the past few weeks. Now, as then, it did no good, and what little strength she had was soon depleted.
Someone asked her name and she stilled. It was an unfamiliar voice. She wanted to tell them who she was, and what had happened, but her throat was dry, and her cracked lips couldn’t form the words.
Pain, like consciousness, came and went in waves. When a hand touched her shoulder she flinched, waiting for the blows to begin. Instead, the strange voice was back, offering soothing words that she couldn’t quite make out.
Where was she? Where was the baby? Maggie finally opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize the faces around her. Her eyes stung and her throat tightened, but she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. He might be here, and he liked it when she showed fear.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, but she must have managed to say something, because the voice was back, assuring her that everything would be all right.
“I’m Dr. Nathaniel Calhoun,” the man said, “and my friend Peg Harmon and I are going to take good care of you.”
Maggie stilled as those words penetrated her mental fog. A sense of calm washed over her. She had escaped.
God had answered her prayers.
Gentle hands brushed her hair back from her face and patted her arm now. A woman’s voice assured her that everything would be fine.
It wasn’t her mother. Then she remembered. Her mother was dead, Papa was sick and Hollis Anderson was in charge of her life now. Was he here?
Maggie began to struggle again, but exhaustion finally claimed her. Sinking back, she surrendered to the darkness.
Chapter Two
Eli paced around the reception area at the front of the doctor’s office while Nathaniel and Peg tended to the woman and infant in another room. He’d overheard the occasional bits of conversation, and the baby crying at one point, then nothing. Was she still alive?
He’d knocked on the door once, but Peg Harmon had poked her head out and told him to sit a spell. He didn’t want to sit, he wanted answers.
Widening his loop around the room, Eli continued to pace. He was surprised to see how tidy the place looked. When Doc Bacchus had announced earlier in the year that he was moving to Houston to live with his daughter, the old man had offered Nathaniel an opportunity to purchase his medical practice—building and all.
Nathaniel, who’d just arrived, jumped at the chance to take over the man’s practice. Although Moccasin Rock was small, and payment for medical treatment often took the form of food or firewood, it was a start.
The building, a single-story board and batten structure, wasn’t much to look at, but there was plenty of space—including sparsely-furnished living quarters in the back.
Since he’d taken over, Nathaniel had scrubbed the whole place and made some changes to the layout. The supplies and equipment Doc had left behind, some of it nearly obsolete, had been cleaned and sorted, and the furniture refinished.
Eli grinned. Who knew his brother could be so organized? His grin faded when he spotted the diploma from The University of Virginia School of Medicine.
Nathaniel had propped the diploma, unframed, atop a stack of books on a shelf in the corner. Eli had not seen it before. He touched it with a sense of renewed awe. They had gone from little boys with no real hope of survival, to young men without a nickel to their name. Now, here was a piece of paper declaring that his brother was Dr. Nathaniel Calhoun.
Eli was mentally measuring the diploma for a frame when the door opened. He winced as Brody Flynn tripped over his own feet while crossing the threshold.
“Careful,” Eli said softly.
Barely fourteen, the boy was tall and clumsy, and one of the kindest, gentlest souls Eli had ever run across. The kid ran errands and did odd jobs for nearly everyone in town, and seemed almost pathetically eager to please.
Stopping in front of Eli, Brody drew in a deep breath and delivered his message in a rush. “You got a wire, Sheriff. You’re supposed to be on the lookout for a missing woman named Maggie Radford.”
Eli felt a prickle of unease at that bit of news, but kept his expression blank. “Oh?”
Brody’s hands trembled as he glanced at the paper he held. Obviously it was big news as far as he was concerned. “Yep, she escaped from the insane asylum over in Fair Haven.”
Eli drew in a harsh breath. The boy was too wound-up to notice.
“You’re supposed to lock her up if you see her,” he added.
Lock her up? What about the baby? Mind whirling, Eli reached out for the telegram. “Thanks, Brody.”
“Do you need my help with anything today?”
Eli hesitated. He didn’t want the boy involved in whatever was going on here. “If you want, you can go on over to the jail and keep Deputy Bliss company, as long as it’s all right with your folks.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff.” Brody wasn’t looking him in the eyes now. Had Mrs. Flynn grown weary of her son’s obsession with the law? Eli alw
ays kept careful watch over the boy, but he couldn’t blame a mama for worrying.
Thankfully, except for one momentous bank robbery, the occasional gunfight, and more common saloon brawls, not much happened in Moccasin Rock. After a lifetime of knowing too much about all that, and worse, Eli was grateful.
As Brody headed for the front door, Eli called out to him. “Don’t tell anyone else about this missing woman for the time being.”
Brody nodded and hurried out the door, big boots pounding out an awkward rhythm on the board sidewalk as he half-ran toward the jail.
The door to the examination room opened behind Eli. He turned to see Peg motioning for him to enter. Finally, some answers. The first words out of her mouth left him with more questions.
“First of all, that’s not her child,” Peg said, stepping back and pointing to the baby she’d cleaned, swaddled and placed in an open cabinet drawer.
Eli came to a halt just inside the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. That woman did not give birth to that baby.”
“Are you sure?”
Peg, an older woman with gray hair, piercing green eyes, and a no-nonsense attitude, didn’t believe in wasting words. “Yes.”
So who did the baby belong to?
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Eli admitted as he walked over to look at the sleeping infant. “Will the baby make it?”
“It doesn’t look good,” Nathaniel admitted. “But we’re going to give it all we’ve got.”
The baby’s fists were clenched like a brawler. “Keep fighting,” Eli whispered, and then turned toward the table where the woman laid, eyes closed.
Noticing the direction of Eli’s gaze, Nathaniel assured him she was only sleeping. “I believe she’s primarily suffering from exhaustion.”
Crossing to a glass-fronted oak cabinet in one corner of the room, Nathaniel selected a large brown bottle from a row of similar containers, while Peg brought in a pan of water she’d heated on the woodstove in the kitchen. Eli noticed she’d also gone home at some point and gotten the woman a long, white cotton gown to replace the calico. That dirty rag of a dress was probably in the trash.
A Texas Promise Page 1