by Caryl McAdoo
Book 1840 One
Praying my story gives God glory!
Table of Contents
Characters
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
Sample Chapter for Next Book
Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection
Caryl’s Titles’ 5-Star Reviews
Coming soon
All of Stories of the
Thanksgiving Books & Blessings
Collection
(beginning with earliest time setting)
GONE TO TEXAS by Caryl McAdoo, full length
GATEWAY TO THE WEST by Susette Williams, novella
TRAIL TO CLEAR CREEK by Kit Morgan, full length
HEART AND HOME by P. Creeden, novella
NO TURNING BACK by Lynette Sowell, novella
DAUGHTER OF DEFIANCE by Heather Blanton, novella
NUGGET NATE: MOYA’S THANKSGIVING PROPOSAL
by George McVey, novella
UNMISTAKABLY YOURS by Kristin Holt, full length
ESTHER’S TEMPTATION by Lena Nelson Dooley full length
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously.
2018 by Caryl McAdoo; all rights reserved.
First Edition September 6, 2018
AISN (ebook): B07FPSQGB4
Cover art by Carpe Librum Book Design www.carpelibrumbookdesign.com
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Main Characters of
The O’Neals—REAGAN and LIBERTY have two children: Reagan FLYNN, Jr. and CHARITY
The Worleys—LAUD (Liberty’s little brother) and ESTHER have two children and one on the way: Richard “RICH” and KATIE KAY
The Van Zandts—SEVE Edmond and MALLORY (Liberty’s best friend since grade-school days) have three children: ALICIA, nickname ‘Lesha’, ARLENE nickname ‘Arlee’, and Aaron
The Harrells—CORBIN is Gabrielle “Gabby’s” pap, and he owns Izzy, later Isabel, a slave
Chapter One
Dickson County, ten miles south of Charlotte, Tennessee
August 1st, 1840
Alisha's father shook the reins over the mule's back. “Hey, now.” Like the good boys they were, the matched pair leaned into their collars.
Trace chains jangled, and leather creaked as the wagon's wheels turned. “Watch your brother, sweetheart!” Her mother turned and looked back over her shoulder. “And help Esther with the little ones.”
For what? The tenth time she'd told her that morning?
“Yes, ma'am. I will!” She gave her an exaggerated wave from the porch. Mercy, after seventeen years, she'd think her ma could trust her to be responsible and remember what she'd asked of her.
Watching until the rig crossed the creek, she looked toward the sky and sighed. “Oh Lord, what am I going to do?”
The sound of the big hammer banging on the anvil pulled her eyes to the shop shed. Flynn raised the sledge again then brought it down with another boom.
“Please, Father God, let us stay. Don't take him away.”
A tug on her shirt pulled her around.
“Lesha, I'm powerful hungry.”
“Mercy, boy! You just had eggs and cornbread. Did you drink all your milk?”
“Yep.” Her brother wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“Does it break your jaw to say ma'am, Aaron Edmond Van Zandt?”
The six-year-old grinned. “Nope.”
“You better watch it.”
“Yes, maaa'am.” He puffed his chest up, sucked in his poor starving tummy, and grinned even bigger. “Can I eat Arlee's cornbread slab with some honey?”
“No, sir, you certainly may not. You know the rules. If she doesn't clean her plate this meal, she can the next.”
“But she hates cornpone, and I love it! And I'm powerful hungry.” His brows furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest and stomped his foot. The porch's floorboards rattled.
“Hey! Do I need to cut a switch? I said no. Now that's enough. Stop badgering me.” Another blow pulled her head back to the shed. “Dear Lord, have mercy on us.”
“I can help Flynn. Me, him, and Rich are partners.”
“Fine by me, unless he sends you away—and if he does, do not harass him like you do me! Just come on over to Aunt Esther's. That's where I'll be if you need me. And no swimming or running off! Hear me?” She pointed her finger at him and wagged it up and down. “Papa will tan both our hides if you get lost again.”
“Yes, maaaa'am.”
Since he used his manners, she let the sass slide. Her brother ran to help Flynn. “Lord, go before Pa and the others. Put it in that Mister Jenkins' heart to let us stay. And please don't lead Uncle Reagan and Aunt Libby to move back to Chicago. I couldn't stand it.”
Forcing herself, she watched the ground, walking past the shed toward Aunt Esther's cabin.
Wouldn't do for Flynn to catch her staring.
Humph. Did he even care that she was alive?
If not for the trouble brewing, the light breeze would have made the sweltering morning half pleasant enough. She liked the cold so much better than the hot, and August was the worst. Perspiration trickled down her back.
Richard ran by on her way. “Where's Aaron?” The little whippersnapper didn't even stop, just kept on running.
“In the shed! And don't be pestering Flynn! You hear me?”
Walking up to the cabin, Auntie followed her three-year-old out onto the porch, smiling. “That boy is always in a hurry. How are you this morning, Alicia?”
“Good. Concerned some, I guess. Maybe a lot, truth be known.” She turned to the baby girl and grinned. “Morning, Katie Kay!” She went down onto one knee and opened her arms wide.
The little girl ran to her and threw chubby little arms around her neck. “Lesha!”
“Sure appreciate you coming over. I haven't been feeling so well.” She exhaled a heavy sigh and rubbed her swollen belly.
“I'm sorry. Need any help peeling those pears?”
“No, that's all done, and they're sitting in sugar. Been up since daybreak. Thought next, I'd best get some beans to soaking for supper.”
“Want me to fetch some water?”
“Please. Laud filled the barrel before he left this morning, so no need to go all the way to the creek.” Aunt Ester rested an arm on the top of her tummy, patting it with her han
d. “Got any mending? Thought we might sit a spell and throw a stitch or two.”
“Sounds good. I'll get the water, then go see.”
After filling the big pot, Alicia checked on her sister and Charity—not that those two ever really did anything wrong. But of all days, that'd surely be the one they'd pick to act out, and she wanted to nip any such notion in the bud. She couldn't handle another burden heaped on her shoulders right then.
Might just do her in like that last straw.
With a little digging, she came up with two of her father's shirts and one pair of her brother's britches to be mended. That'd give her some nice time with her aunt on the porch, and she needed to talk.
While Esther sewed, Alicia rocked the baby and read her the story of Noah out of the Bible.
Before any of the young ones asked for dinner, the three-year-old got still in her lap. She pushed off the floor with less pressure a half a dozen or so more times, rocking slower and slower for good measure then carefully stood and carried Katie Kay inside.
Easing the little angel down on the bed, she tiptoed out then outside again, pulled her rocker closer to her aunt's.
“Uh . . . have you said anything to Flynn?”
Both of Esther's brows rose. “No, darling, I have not. Haven't had a chance. I know you don't want me to say something in front of anyone, do you?”
“Heaven's no. But . . . what if we have to leave? What if they go back to Chicago? Pa's been talking about going west.”
“Oh, from all I hear, Liberty hated Chicago; I don't think Reagan can talk her into that. She said something about Baltimore the other day though. Plenty of work there for a first-class fiddler.”
Though the remark made Alicia want to scream, she filled her lungs then huffed it out instead, holding her tongue. “That’s way farther north isn't it?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her aunt pulled thread through the fabric then stabbed the buttonhole again. “In Maryland.”
“What would you do?”
“How many times you going to ask me that question?” She grinned. “I go wherever Laud goes, honey. I know he doesn't want the family stretched out all over the country, so I figure he'll follow his big sister around.” She added under her breath, “Like a lost pup.”
“But being close to family isn't a bad thing.” Alicia retrieved the notions from the sewing basket, threaded a needle, then arranged her pa's shirt in her lap to close a torn seam.
“Auntie, when you first met Laud, did he love you right off? I mean . . . I love Flynn so much it hurts, and he acts like I'm not even alive.”
“Umm, I probably loved him first, too. But it didn't take long to hook him.” She glanced up with an understanding grin. “You two have known each other for so long. I'd guess there's an overabundance of . . . you know, familiarity.”
Pondering on that perspective, Alicia finished the seam, tested it, then tied off her thread with a knot and bit it loose.
“Well, I turned seventeen in January. You married at my age, didn't you? And time could be running out on me. That's what I'm afraid of. Especially if there's no good outcome from them going to town. If that Mister Jenkins really owns our land, and we were duped . . .”
“Girl, stop borrowing trouble. Your Pa's a smart man. He'll ferret out the truth.” She laughed. “And Heaven help anyone who gets in Liberty's way.”
“I think I should say something to him, don't you?”
“You might have the opportunity in a bit. He's supposed to come for dinner. Speaking of which, we best get some more wood for the fire. Figured we could bake some potatoes in the coals once the beans get to boiling.
“Want to fetch some fatback and onion, too?” She stuck her hand out. “But first—a helping hand, please, ma'am.”
Rocking forward, Alicia stood on the upswing, then stuck out her hand to poor Aunt Esther. She set the mending in her sewing box, cradled her extended tummy, and let herself be pulled up.
“If you do intend to say something, best get after it before Laud gets back if you want any privacy. Flynn's going to help him shod our off-mule this afternoon.”
“You really think you'll make another month?”
“Who knows? The midwife said mid—September, but Richard came early, and Katie Kay was late. Guess this one will arrive when he's good and ready.”
“A boy, huh?”
The girls came up talking a mile a minute, but both turned their noses up at cornbread and sweet milk. “What's for supper?”
“If Pa gets back, your left-over cornbread’s first and then—”
“Oh, I ate that already.”
Alicia eyed the eleven-year-old hard, but her sister didn't look away or act guilty.
Her best friend in the world and near-constant companion nodded. “Yes, ma'am, she did. About an hour ago.” Sounded fishy. Her sister hated cornpone. Then. most likely sensing her doubt, Charity added a little good measure.
“She did give me a nibble, but she ate most of it, all right.”
“Mm-hmm, I see. So, is that why Aaron hasn't been hanging around begging for something to eat?”
“Probably not.” Arlene shrugged. “More likely because him and Rich and Flynn are building a fort or something.”
With a glance at her aunt, Alicia only shook her head. “Don't be asking for anything to eat before we call you for supper then.”
“So, what are we having?”
Aunt Esther spoke up. “Beans seasoned with fatback, baked potatoes, and I figured I'd make a big pan of biscuits.”
“Mmm, sounds good.” In unison the girls asked, “Can we eat early?” They looked at each other and then started their own little clap, clap, slap rhyme together.
“Two great minds thinking just the same, playing the game, looking for fame. Now it's sure to happen if we say each other's name!” Both of them hollered the other's name then collapsed to the ground in a pile of giggles.
“Silly girls. Go on now before I find a couple of hoes and put you two to work.”
Just as she figured, at the mention of work, Arlene and Charity took off.
“Don't get out of hollering range.”
Her sister gave her an over the shoulder wave without looking back.
With the fire stoked, the beans seasoned up, and the big pot hung over the fire, Alicia went to greasing the potatoes. After a while, Aunt Esther pronounced the coals just right and poked the potatoes into them.
But still no boys. The lady went back to the porch and her mending. Shadows put it well past midday.
“Think we should go look for Flynn and the boys?”
“I say why borrow trouble. The milk and cornbread isn't going anywhere.”
“And do you know when Uncle Laud plans on being back?”
The rocker stopped, but she kept on sewing. “He figured well before dark but wasn't sure. Mister Douglas said he might have more than the two that needed new iron.”
“A tomato or two could have ripened. Some okra for sure. I could go check if you want me to. Both would go good in the beans.”
“They would indeed, and . . . Never can tell.” Esther laughed. “A lovesick girl could get a moment alone with her sweetheart in a garden.”
If only Flynn was sure enough her beau, she'd be as happy as the queen bee, but she had no inclination that he wanted the position at all. She just had to say something to him before everything fell apart.
“Well, should the fellows come around, could you maybe keep those boys up here, and send him to help?”
“Sure, sweetie. I can do that.”
All the way from the cabin to the two-acre garden the three families shared, she searched for any sight of Flynn or the boys.
The spring plants had all but petered out, except for the late corn, a few tomatoes, and the okra. Would the clan even be there long enough to plant a fall garden? Oh, things had to work out.
Please, God.
The soft ground reminded her of how much work everyone put in getting it ready. She looked around
again. Where had those boys gotten off to?
Doing her best to put them out of mind, she got busy, holding her apron up and dropping the few ripened-enough-to-pick tomatoes then went to work on the okra.
The more it got picked, the more it produced, and her ma knew a hundred great ways to fix it, too. At the end of the shoulder-high rows of plants, something hit her arm.
Careful not to spill her full apron, she turned a full circle. Was one of those scalawags chunking rocks? If it was Aaron, she'd—
“Over here.”
Stepping toward the sound of Flynn's voice, she held her chest, so her heart couldn't beat its way out. After about ten strides, she spotted him crouched down and hiding in the last row of corn stalks. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to get found. We've been playing hide-and-seek.” He lowered his hand. “Get down, Richard's It, and I don't want him to find me first.”
She knelt beside him. Could he hear her stupid heart?
Surely it would lead the boys straight to him.
Cotton suddenly filled her mouth, sucking every bit of moisture. She had nothing to swallow, no matter how badly she needed to, and she could barely draw breath her throat closed so tight. “Flynn . . . uh.”
“Shush.” He put his finger to his lips then whispered, “I hate being It.”
Understandable, she did, too. One more thing in common. One more reason to love him. She put her free hand beside her mouth. “It's just that . . . uh . . . Oh, mercy. Please don't go away to Baltimore. I'm so afraid.”
Her confession obviously swayed him, and he rocked away from her, falling on his backside. He stared at her for what had to be an hour or more.
What was he thinking? Was he mad at her? She should have kept her mouth shut. Then he smiled.
“Really? Why do you care where we go? And what's got you scared?”
“Moving.” Her cheeks warmed. “I don't want . . . Uh, I mean, I'd hate it if . . .”