by Caryl McAdoo
“Didn't you think she might need to think you thought what she said had merit and wisdom? Well, you made her feel just the opposite. Like she's some old fool.”
What? He'd never mean for his mother to think he didn't love and honor her. “Did she say that?”
“Well, not in so many words, but I'm sure you hurt her heart!”
“Did she tell you I was rude? I mean . . . she did get out of the wagon pretty quick. Maybe I was too short with her.”
“Of course, you were! But no, she'd never say anything bad about you. She wouldn't even infer such a thing. But I saw how quickly she left the wagon. What did you say to her, anyway?”
“I just told her I didn't want to talk about us getting married right then.”
“That's not how she told it.”
“Fine. I'll ask her to forgive me for being rude.”
“That'd be a start.” She smiled. “So can we talk about it then?”
“Why not, Alicia? What if the free land isn't worth planting? Have any idea how much we'd have to pay for a plot of rich ground in Texas?”
“No, but what has that to do with anything?”
“There's that, and how much are we going to be able to sell our seed for? The land may not even be good for cotton. And will our headright? Have plenty of timber to build with? Or will we have to buy logs?
“There are so many more issues to be considered. I'd hate having to leave you and Mam and Charity Grace and go off to God knows where to make us some cash money. But I would. In a minute if that's what it took to feed you three.”
Tears overflowed. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stood, huffed, then marched toward the cook-fire, but before she took two steps, she spun to him.
“You're only worried about money! Money doesn't matter! The Good Book says take no thought for tomorrow. What you're going to eat or wear! You aren't trusting God, Reagan Flynn O'Neal! What's wrong with you?”
She started toward the fire again then whirled back. “Love is what matters! Scripture tells us love never fails! Don't you ever read God's Word or believe it's true? You're such a . . . a . . . buzzard!”
She left for the third time and didn't turn around again.
“Please, Lord, soften her heart.”
When had she started calling his mother Mam?
The camp came to life before Liberty would have chosen, but praise the Lord, Charity Grace had let her sleep. She raised up. From the glow around the back flap, it appeared to be well past false dawn.
The sun was liable to be up any time. She got herself together, ran a comb through her hair, then wondered why . . .
Old habits? Her life was over, and from there on out, only her children and grandbabies would matter. They'd never care whether her hair got combed or not, but good grooming could never be a bad thing.
She no longer had anyone to impress, but for society's sake, she’d keep combing her locks. Braiding its length, she twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck and pinned it in place.
The day's first ray broke a few minutes after her first sip of coffee. Esther grinned. “Thought for a bit the sun might beat you up.”
She loved her brother's wife, but that morn, didn't really want to engage her. “Oh, I could use another twenty winks, but then . . .” She shrugged. “Where's Charity Grace and the other girls?”
“Everyone but us is hauling water. The girls are filling the wagon's barrels, and the men are watering the mules.”
“Oh. Guess I'm counted a shirker.”
“No ma'am. No one thinks that.” Her brother's wife shook her head. “Look at me. Here I sit and all I did was birth a baby. You . . .”
Liberty appreciated the young woman's voice trailing off.
“Anyway, Mallory and I are going into town with Seve later. She wants to look at some material for Lesha's wedding dress. Those two sure make a nice-looking couple. Laud and Flynn are going, too. Corbin said he and Izzy would stay with the wagons, and she volunteered to watch the baby.
“The girls are wanting to go and promised to help with Katie Kay. Is Charity Grace going with us fine with you?”
“Of course. What about the little boys?”
“Oh, I suppose they're going, too. Hadn't heard one way or another though. You want to go?”
“Not really.” Why had she said that?
Esther shrugged, then set the big fry pan on the coals, and tossed in a nice hunk of fatback. “Anything you need?”
“I'm certain someone will spy out the church houses. I definitely plan to go tomorrow for sure. Twice if it works out.”
“Will do, anything else?”
“Yes.” She took another sip of coffee. “I've still got ink, but a spare bottle would be nice. I've been keeping a journal, even wrote about . . .”
Abruptly stopping, she searched the ground. The slightest movement caught her attention. A long line of tiny black ants marched single file. Could she say his name out loud without tears?
“Anyway, I heard some of what Alicia hollered at Flynn. Do you have any idea what he said to set her off?”
“No, I put that on the top of my list for Laud to find out. But if Flynn swears him to secrecy, I guarantee your brother will not even let on what the topic was!”
Liberty chuckled. “He's been like that forever. Tight—lipped as they come. Our mother would get so mad at him, but when trouble came around, he'd take a beating before giving up one of his scalawag friends.”
She started to add herself to the list but didn't want to tell that story. Not then, and not ever.
The fatback sizzled, and the aroma of frying pork wafted around the cook-fire. Esther flipped it over then leaned in close. “Are you sleeping any, Libby? Laud says your lantern is always burning late of a night.”
Footfalls turned Liberty's head. The girls neared, carrying a bucket each. She turned back. “Some, but . . .” She shrugged, didn't really want to tell about the hard liquor, especially with Charity Grace coming up. “Ask me again when it's just us.”
The eastern sky turned all shades of lavender and pink, brushed with glorious strokes of gold, a spectacular display of God's love.
Reagan always loved sunrises. How many had they watched together? Sitting on the porch of the Tennessee cabin. She loved that place and all its sweet memories with her husband.
Seemed that morning, Esther's biscuits had gotten taller, fluffier, and downright better tasting—probably the soured milk made the difference.
First thing, Laud went to bragging on them, but he'd done the same thing after meeting her, talking about her cooking and how good it was even before the family met her.
Remembering the tinges of jealousy over it, she smiled to herself, but then she'd never been much of a cook.
Soon as he brought her around, his reason for falling so hard was clear. Esther could have been painted by a master, her features were so lovely. Very easy on the eyes.
And her quick wit kept Liberty and Laud in stitches. Plus, the girl was such a hard worker. No wonder she’d found the way into her brother’s heart.
Right after cleanup from breakfast, the whole bunch headed toward town, but then Flynn stopped, obviously telling the others to go on, and came back to where she sat her rocker beside the fire.
He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Please forgive me, Mam, for being rude the other day.”
“When was that, Son? I don't remember you ever being rude to anyone.”
“Oh, when you climbed aboard, wanting to talk about Alicia and me . . . I figured to try and talk me out of my decision to wait.”
“Oh that. Well, you were a bit short, I admit. But rude? I wouldn't call it that. So anyway, can we talk now a bit? What set Alicia off last night?”
“Sure, Mam.” He laughed. “Do you think you'll ever change?”
“Probably not, but I do promise not to try to talk you out of your convictions. I can, on the other hand, bring a new perspective to the table for you to consider. But I'll never be ups
et whether you follow it or not. I promise you that, too. I understand you're a man now and make your own life choices. Still, you’ll always be my son.”
“I know that, and I’m proud for it.”
“Good. So don't be changing the subject. I'd like to know what upset her last night.”
“She thinks it’s only about the money. The reason for waiting. But it’s about so much more.”
“So you're planning on waiting until we get all the way to Texas? Or after you build her a cabin? Or after the first crop is harvested? Thing is, Flynn, you can always come up with more reasons to wait..”
“Mam.”
“Uh-uh-uh.” She wagged her finger in his face. “You may never have as much cash as you think you need. Do you love the girl? Really love her? I thought you did, but if you’re having any doubt in that respect . . .”
“No, no, Mam. She’s the one. The only one. I just—”
“Son.” She took his hands into hers. “Here’s my advice. If you love her, marry her. And don’t waste any days that you can spend together as man and wife. Life is so fragile, and so much can happen.”
Tears blurred her eyes.
“I thought I had so many years ahead with Papa.”
“Oh, Mam. Don’t.” She dropped his hands, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and sat back, straightening her posture, then smiled.
“Anyway. I really would love to know when I might expect my first grandsugar to arrive.”
His gaze went toward the clan, disappearing from view, a good quarter mile away. “Tonight, after Alicia and I are done talking, I'll come sit a spell with you. Is that fine?”
“Of course, Son. You run along and catch up now.”
He kissed her cheek again, hurried to the back of her wagon, climbed in, then was out and gone before she could ask him what he'd grabbed.
But then after all, it was all his; the wagon and everything in it. Flynn trotted until he caught up with the group. Was that a fiddle he'd wrapped in a towel that he'd taken from out of the wagon?
What was that boy up to?
Three rocks in, she gave up on trying to figure out what was afoot. The best thing she'd come up with was maybe he'd thought about playing in some roadhouse—or heaven forbid, a saloon—for some extra money.
She'd put her foot down on that nonsense. A grin made its way to her lips. Hadn't she just pronounced him a grown man who made his own decisions?
“Any coffee left?” Corbin stood on the other side of the fire, holding his cup.
“Yes, sir. We made a fresh pot before Esther left. Figured you and Izzy might want some more, too.” She held her own mug up.
He knelt, grabbed the quilted hot pad, and filled his cup. He held the pot out toward her and questioned with raised brows.
“No thank you. I'm good.”
“You been sleeping any, Liberty?” He eased down into one of the empty chairs across from her. “Been staying up awful late.”
With a nod, she met his eyes and smiled. “It's getting there that's most difficult. But the sleep medicine you gave me certainly helps. Thank you for the kind gesture and for your discretion.”
“Any time.” He touched his hat's brim. “Just let me know if you need more.”
“Thank you again, sir.”
With a smile, he took to studying the fire then spoke without looking up. “When my wife—well, I must confess I needed a lot of it to get me over her—but I know exactly how the loss of a loved one hurts your heart. Of late though . . .” He looked up. “Miss Liberty, anything, anytime you need it. I'm the man you can count on.”
Tears welled.
Only a week ago, she'd have no need for a man to tell her such a thing, but six days after the best man she'd ever know had gone to his reward, here Corbin Harrell was talking as if he held some interest in her.
What was wrong with him?
“While that's so very kind of you, I have my son and my brother. Seve was like a brother to my husband, too. I pray I don't sound unappreciative, but . . .”
She let her eyes burn into him for a moment, then nodded. “I do thank you again, sir.”
Bless God, though he seemed to want to say more, he refrained. Izzy joined him, holding the baby. Corbin drained his cup, tossed the dredges, and took his leave.
Why hadn't she asked him about losing his faith? No, she would never want to expose what Izzy had confided. But she could just ask him about it as though she knew nothing and see what he had to say about it.
Her embarrassment at his bold display of interest in her as a woman should not keep her from making certain regarding his eternal life.
Oh, Lord, help me.
On reflection, Alicia enjoyed the trip to town. Even Aaron behaved himself. For her druthers, she definitely didn't spend near enough time with Flynn. At least, she did see the Mississippi River for the first time, holding his hand.
It proved a most amazing and beautiful testimony to the majesty of God. If only . . . But then right after that, he excused himself very mysteriously, and he still hadn't made it back to camp yet.
She adored the materials Ma had found at the Memphis Mercantile. They'd make a beautiful wedding dress! She especially loved the crisp see-through organza with the ribbon like ridges swirling all over it.
Ma spoke of making the bodice to the dress from it, using the solid white to cover up what needed to be covered with a very full skirt that would accentuate her tiny waistline. All so exciting! It would be fabulous.
Her mother bought something else on the sly, but Alicia caught her passing whatever it was to Aunt Esther. Anyway, at least having her dress would make it seem more real.
If her betrothed ever decided the time was right.
Esther and Mam almost had dinner ready when the clan arrived. Gabby asked if she wanted to go back with her and her pap, but Alicia declined.
A big second pot filled with water for a cloth bath, and the idea of a nice scrubbing proved too appealing. Shame no one had a tub, but hot soapy rags were better than cold—or nothing.
Boiling the wash after church the next day had been discussed, but so far, none of her things were all that dirty. What day was it? Twelve or thirteen? She'd have to ask Mam.
Not that it wouldn't be a good idea.
Hadn't the clan left on a Wednesday? That sounded right. She'd ask Aunt Esther once the beans and cornbread were ready.
Shame Pa couldn’t have traded for two hams or even a turkey. Now that would be treat! Having a fat turkey and dressing. Thanksgiving in September! Some folks did celebrate that early, but it just didn’t seem right.
Guess she’d be in Texas come November, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise. She grinned. She hoped they didn’t have many overflowing creeks to cross. Her family celebrated God’s blessings every year.
Would she be married by then? That’d be something to be thankful for all right. She didn’t want to celebrate another holiday without being Mis’ess Reagan Flynn O'Neal.
Flat out, and if it hadn't happened by then . . .
Remembering his reaction at her calling him a buzzard made her smile, but if he made her wait until next year she . . .
‘If I say we'll wait, then we'll wait’ indeed! What a tyrant! If she wasn't his wife by Thanksgiving, she’d . . . spit! No, not spit. Ladies never did such things.
Aaron, on the other hand? That boy could hock a loogie!
“Alicia, you got a minute?”
She looked up. Her love grinned like . . . like . . . Had he changed his mind?
“Always for you. What do you need?”
“Your pa said we could have a little time together before dinner this afternoon.” He nodded toward two chairs fifty paces away from the fire.
When had he put those there?
Extending her hand, she let him pull her to her feet, then he kept hold of it strolling out to the rendezvous. “So where did you get off to in town? I hated you leaving the group and not being able to go with you. And then you never came back.”<
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“Had a little errand.”
Very mysterious. She raised her brows. “Had to walk all the way back to camp without you to talk with.”
A chuckle seemed his only answer, but he squeezed her hand. “You're just full of questions, aren't you?”
“Why wouldn't I be?” She squeezed back and smiled but didn't quiz him anymore. Him asking Pa to have extra time and setting it all up surprised her, and she loved surprises.
Apparently, he had something up his sleeve. She eased down, but he didn't take the other chair. Instead, he took a knee right in front of her and held out his hand.
“Alicia, you're the prettiest girl I know, and the smartest, too. Guess I've loved you since I can remember, and well, you know all this—how much I love you and all. I mean I want to spend my life with you.
“Couldn't bear it if we didn’t, so I want to ask like . . . all proper. And if you say yes, give you this as a token of my promise to do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman on earth.”
Her chest might as well have been an infested sweet gum tree, and her heart the red-headed woodpecker. What was he doing?
“So, Alicia, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Everything around her went blurry but the flash of gold he held toward her. A ring. He held a gold ring in his hand with a sparkling green stone sitting high on top of the band.
“Yes! Yes! You know I will! It's beautiful, Flynn. When did you get this?”
Leaning forward, he slipped it onto her left ring finger. “Today. Traded my fiddle for it.”
“What? No! Oh no, Flynn. You shouldn't have. Take it back! I love listening to you play too much, and I'd never . . . I mean I just can't have you doing that on account of me! You know, not wanting to wait. I could never forgive myself.”
“But I've still got Papa's. I know how it pains you to have to wait, Alicia. But hopefully, this will help. It’s all official now.” He nodded toward the camp. Everyone stood in a group, grinning toward her and Flynn. “Hope you don't mind. I wanted everyone to see.”
Laughing, she stood and held her hand up where they could all see. It was too far, of course, but then they’d all get a good look shortly. She faced him. “Will you forgive me for calling you a buzzard?”