Gone to Texas: Cross Timbers Romance Family Saga, book one (Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection One 1)

by Caryl McAdoo

  Corbin couldn’t put a handle on how Seve took to his barn idea, but at least it had been aired out. Laud and Flynn seemed ready to consider it, but the clan's general seemed to want to spit on it.

  Never did get Gabby and Izzy together at the right time to have his afternoon walk with Liberty, but the evenings were the best anyway.

  Her reading the Good Book soothed his soul. Plus getting to feast his eyes on her.

  Clan made twenty-five miles that day according to Seve. Not a bad lick. But it ran supper late and cut into his time with the widow. Guess knocking off an extra couple of miles was worth it though.

  He hoped for some discussion about the barn, but when none came, he went to kindling his private fire, then fetched Liberty and her rocker once it got going well.

  Taking his hand, she let him ease her down. He didn't want to let go but did.

  “Gabby rode with me some today.”

  “That so? What did she have to allow?”

  “She's been watching you. Sees a difference—a good one. And she wants what you've got. I told her how to get saved, but she only nodded then excused herself. Did she bring any of it up with you?”

  “Not a word, but I was wondering what was going on. Looked like she'd been crying. Then, she's been doing a lot of that of late.”

  “She's afraid she's going to hell over what she did with Junior.”

  “Think I ought to talk with her?”

  “I'm not certain. I'd definitely pray about it. If it comes up, let the Lord lead you.”

  “I will. So where are we?”

  Opening the Bible, she glanced at the lantern, scooted her chair closer, and went to reading. After three chapters, she marked her place then closed the book.

  “The more I've thought on it, the better I like your barn idea. It being a church after a while sounded really good.”

  “Hopefully, Seve will come around. Don't guess he took too kindly to it.”

  “I noticed the same thing. But as much as he thinks he's in charge, our clan is a democracy. Majority rules, and if you don't agree, you're able to vote with your feet.”

  She glanced toward the cook-fire then nodded for him to come closer. He leaned in. “I think you embarrassed him, but he'll come around. It makes too much sense.”

  “Hope so. I hate for us to be strung out over seven thousand acres, and if someone needed help.”

  “Me, too.” She held her hand out, and he took it. She slipped out of the rocker onto her knees. “Join me. Let's pray for Gabby.”

  Holding her hand while she sought the Lord for his daughter thrilled him almost as much as her including him in the prayer. She finished with a sweet voiced, “Amen.”

  “Amen.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Thank you.”

  She squeezed his hand then backed away a step. “Pray for me too, please. I'm going to have a word with Charity Grace tonight.”

  He nodded then let her pull her hand from his. “I will.”

  Liberty practiced her words, but none of them seemed right. Her baby girl slipped on her gown then eased into her spot.

  “Charity, what do you think of Mister Harrell?”

  “Oh . . . he's nice enough, I guess.” She cuddled in and yawned real big. “I really liked it when he made Izzy free. Wasn't that wonderful, Mam?”

  “Yes, it certainly was! It was a very good and generous thing to do. What would you think if . . . uh . . . Well, you see, we've been talking.”

  “Yes, Mam. Izzy already told me you got him saved. Now you have more treasure in Heaven, right? With Papa? Can he use some of your treasure, Mam?”

  “I suppose I do, but I don't think Papa needs any of my treasure. He has so much of his own, I imagine. But you're right. The Good Book says that, all right. Umm, but that isn't what I was talking about him for.”

  “Papa?”

  “No, darling, Mister Harrell.”

  Her daughter rolled onto her side and propped her head up with her elbow, chin in hand. “Arlene says he's sweet on you, Mam. Is she right? Did you know that?”

  “Uh, yes, I suppose he . . . uh . . . Well, it's been strange. I mean how the Lord put us together. You've heard the men talking about getting more free land when you're married, right?”

  “Yes, ma'am. That's why Flynn married Sister early, right? On account now, he gets twice as many acres.”

  “That's exactly right. Well, you see, Mister Harrell would like to get twice as many acres, too—for him and Gabby and Izzy, too, if she wants to stay with us.”

  “I hope she does. I like her.”

  “Anyway. More land. And he thought you had to be married from the start, and I'd heard he'd lost his faith over his wife when I first started talking to him.”

  “I can't believe it.” She laid down again on her back, staring at the canvas. “How could a mother leave her husband and her daughter? You'd never leave me, would you, Mam?”

  “Of course not. Never. But anyway, when I spoke with Corbin, er, I mean Mister Harrell . . . that's when I discovered he really wasn't saved. Now he is. He's a good man.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “He was very sad when Gabby's mother left, but he's stayed and taken care of her and Izzy. And now he hopes to get more land. What do you think about him getting more land?”

  “But he has to get married again.” She giggled. “You didn't make much sense just now, Mam. I don't care how much land he gets if that's what you want to know.”

  Liberty filled her lungs then exhaled real slow. “But he could get more if he was married.”

  “I know. But who could he marry?”

  “Well . . . me, I guess.”

  “I kind of thought that's what you were asking.” She rolled over to her side, facing Liberty. “Would I have to call him Papa?”

  “Oh, no. Gabby calls him pap, and really . . . whatever you were comfortable with. But he'll never take your Papa's place. He doesn't want to do that at all.”

  “Good. I miss Papa something awful sometimes, but I know he's having a great time in Heaven. Do you love Mister Harrell, Mam?”

  “I don't know. I like him. He's got a good heart, and well, of late, I suppose I have been looking forward to our walks and then reading the Bible with him at night. You could join us anytime.”

  “Oh, no thank you.” Her little finger traced Liberty's cheek. “So, he's like a friend?”

  “Yes, but well once you've been married, and uh—one day you'll understand about that—but I haven't decided anything, not yet. I just wanted to know what you thought.”

  “Can I go to sleep now?”

  “Yes, baby.” She snuffed the lantern then cuddled up with Charity Grace. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  The next morning, with barely enough light to read the sign, Corbin crossed Lindley Creek. For a mile or so, he wondered how one went about getting a creek named after him.

  Did Mister Lindley just put the sign up? Not that it mattered. According to the widow, God had written his name in the Lamb's Book of Life. That's what really counted.

  What a turn things had taken.

  A time or two, he'd definitely thought about a nip, but he liked being clear headed and steady handed. Unlike the day before, Gabby relieved him, and Izzy took over for the widow at the same time, leaving the time to speak with his new favorite woman again.

  Easing up next to him, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Well, I did it. I spoke with Charity Grace last night.”

  Was that sweat on his palms? Should he wipe it off then take her hand back? “What'd she allow?”

  “Oh, not much really. She did say that Arlene thinks you're sweet on me. And she also wanted to know, quite matter-of-factly, if she'd have to call you papa if we married.”

  “Did you tell her no?”

  “Oh, yes. I reminded her that Gabby called you pap, and she could use that, or whatever she was comfortable with.”

  His heart swelled. “So does this mean . . . uh . . . Well, are we . . .?�
�

  “No. Not yet. It's . . .” She pulled her hand away.

  Why did he have to say anything? He wanted to wrap her up and smother her with kisses, but that wouldn't do. Such a prize as Liberty O'Neal should be cherished, handled with care.

  “Oh, well, I mean . . . Hey, I just thought of something. I don't know your middle name. Mine's—now promise not to laugh—Festus.”

  “And mine is Hope.”

  “Liberty Hope. That's so pretty. I love it.” Why had he added that? Would it only remind her of him letting it slip last night that he loved her?

  “Well, thank you. And Festus isn't so bad. There's one in the Bible. Did you know that?”

  “No, ma'am, sure did not know that. It came from my pap's father.”

  Straightening her bonnet, she shook her head.

  “Listen, Corbin. I hope you can understand. Spending time with you has brought me comfort, but sometimes it seems . . . to me . . . that I'm being so disrespectful to Reagan's memory. We were so happy, the love of each other's life. And I still do love him. It may only be the devil, trying to steal my joy, but . . .”

  “I can understand that. And, I mean . . . there's no hurry. Except for . . .” Why did he have to keep on talking?

  “I know.” She nodded. “You're talking about a son, right?”

  “Yes, ma'am. I would never want to put you in any danger, and I figure, the younger, the better. I mean . . . Not saying that you're old or . . .”

  Her laughter rang out so sweet that the birds hushed to listen. He loved it when she laughed. It happened so seldom since her husband's death.

  “You know I'm not even sure I can still . . . uh . . . well, you know. And there's the other . . . Oh my!” She giggled. “Am I blushing? Because your cheeks are so red.”

  “Yes, ma'am, you are. But it's very becoming.”

  Walking a ways in silence cleared the air and humor and embarrassment between him and her. He figured he should keep his mouth closed until she—

  “Right this minute, all I want is to be your friend, Corbin.”

  “Then friends we'll be, and I'm glad for that much. I understand. I do. And whatever may come, I'm your friend, Liberty Hope, until the day I meet our Maker.”

  Praise the Lord; she slipped her hand back into his. “Did Gabby say anything to you last night?”

  “No, ma'am. We've got our wagon split in two by seed and feed sacks—and what furniture we brought. The girls have the front. I'm in back.”

  “I see. Well, I hope you'll continue to pray for her. I believe the Spirit is dealing with her heart, drawing her to a relationship with our good God. It's an important time for a decision. I mean, you're her father.”

  “Oh, I know, and I will.” He fell silent again, enjoying the touch of her hand in his.

  That evening while Gabby's pap pitched woo at the widow O'Neal, she stood on the banks of the Sabine River a good ways from the cook-fire and the love birds lantern's light. It didn't seem right for the little stream to be called a river, not after seeing the big, wide, muddy Mississippi. What did it take for a creek to be a river?

  Able to toss that question around for a bit, she kept coming back to what really troubled her that Wednesday evening. It kept worming its way to the forefront, no matter how many times she tried to push it to the back by changing the topic.

  It almost demanded that she do something she just couldn't bring herself to do. How could she?

  Even though Izzy had been there the whole of her life, but a slave wasn't a friend. She loved her plenty well and had even slipped around and taught her how to read and write, but the lady was more like family.

  Never in all Gabrielle's days had she ever enjoyed the company of anyone like Alicia. She'd become a true-blue friend of the finest kind.

  A boon buddy, the boys would call someone like her.

  How could she possibly even consider hurting her like that?

  But if she wanted what Pap had . . .

  She had to confess. Tell her only best friend in the entire world what she'd tried to do back early on. Trying to get Flynn to cover her sin. She'd confessed being in the family way. Wasn't that enough?

  It wasn't fair.

  If only she'd just stayed in Charlotte. She never should have come, and she'd been old enough to decide for herself. There were plenty of jobs she could have found to support her and the baby.

  But she didn't want to be alone. She was afraid. Scared as a hen with a fox in the coop. If only she'd been brave, she could have made a life for her and her baby.

  Who was she trying to josh? The only work she probably could find would be in the saloon.

  Dancing shadows turned her head. Pap carried the widow's rocker and his chair back to the cook-fire. Maybe she should talk with her again. Ask her opinion. She lifted a handful of skirt and hurried to catch up with Miss Liberty.

  Slipping up next to her, she whispered, “Ma'am, think I might have a word?”

  The older woman stopped. “Why, certainly, Gabrielle. Shall we walk a bit?” She turned around and headed back toward the river. “You know, I wanted to visit with you, too.”

  “You did?”

  “Indeed. You see, I've been thinking about what I told you the other day.”

  “Yes, ma'am, me, too. But I just can't stand the thought of losing Alicia. I've never had a friend like her. Not in my whole life. I can't believe I did what I did. It was so horrible!” Her voice cracked and if she didn't stop right then, she might not be able to hold the sobbing inside back.

  “Oh, my. Sweetheart, what are you talking about? Whatever in the world have you done that's caused you to be so upset? Or would mean you'd lose your friend?”

  In the darkness, there by the Sabine River, Gabby told the sordid tale of her trying to get in the wagon with Flynn.

  The widow didn't say anything.

  “I knew it was wrong. And I already wanted Alicia for a friend, but back then guess it hadn’t sunk in they were so much in love or think she’d ever like me so much. I'd never ever do such a thing now.”

  “Of course not. Poor sweet dear.” Miss Liberty turned and took both Gabby's hands. “Honey, have you confessed that sin to God?”

  “Yes, ma'am.” She stared at the ground.

  “But it's like I know in my heart I have to tell her, but I just can't bring myself to it. She's so happy with being Flynn's wife. I'd hoped we could be like you and Mis'ess Van Zandt. You know, friends for all our lives. Raise our babies together.”

  She looked into the woman's eyes, smiling. “Maybe our babies could even grow up together and get married like yours.”

  “It is hard sometimes.” Miss Liberty pulled her close then wrapped her arms around her.

  “I'm praying for you. If that's what God wants you to do, then you need to get it done. I'll ask God to give you the strength to obey and for Him to prepare Alicia's heart. But remember this, Gabby. She loves you just as much as you love her.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The next evening while her husband helped with the stock, Alicia looked over Pa's shoulder studying the map. Shortly, he touched a squiggly line then threw a nod to the west.

  “That over there is Pilot Grove Creek. I'm certain of it.”

  “Good.” She touched the spot he'd marked on Delaware Creek, the prime mix of farm and timber land Ranger Baylor had touted.” Doesn't look that far. How many more days?”

  He glanced at her with a big grin gracing his mug. “Three days. Four at the most.”

  “What if it's already claimed or not good dirt or—”

  “We'll cross those creeks when we come to then, but I've been praying hard that the Lord would lead us to the exact right spot.”

  “Amen.” Mercy, she should have been doing the same all along and would from then on. She'd pray over the land God would give her and Flynn. She eased over to help Esther with supper.

  Yeast rolls that she'd mixed up that morning, rabbit stew, and roasted yams. A true shame the butter ha
d played out, but the clan still had molasses, and that would do them up right.

  Wouldn't be long before a new milk cow could be bought, too. Flynn would love that.

  The cook poured in a gallon of water, then threw in the skinned and quartered rabbit that Stormy had caught. If the water got hot enough quick enough, maybe she'd get a taste before she fell out from hunger. She touched her rumbling tummy.

  Why was she so starved? She'd eaten a full dinner and even a bite of Arlene's leftover cornbread.

  The boys came running in, the storm dog on their heels. Aaron stood tall. “When's our rabbit going to be ready?”

  “Yeah.” Rich stepped around him. “It's all ours, right, Mama?”

  Esther grinned at her oldest, then tussled his mop of hair. “No, sir. I'm making a stew that everyone will eat.”

  “Aw, that ain't fair! Stormy caught him, and he's our dog. That makes that rabbit ours.”

  Without missing a beat on her cabbage shredding, Esther glanced at the boy then back.

  “So from now on, you two are only going to eat what that dog catches? No more biscuits or fatback in the morning. No cornbread and beans at dinner? Or the yams smothered in molasses we're having tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Just that measly rabbit that's going to flavor the stew for the whole clan. Is that what you two are saying?”

  “Uh . . . no, Mama. We'll share on account of me and my partner are good boys! Right, Aaron?”

  “Yeah. I guess. We’ll share our rabbit.”

  Alicia grabbed her little brother's shoulder. “Does it break your jaw to say ma'am? You mind your manners, Aaron Edmond Van Zandt, or I'll be telling Pa how rude you treated Aunt Esther.”

  “I wasn't talking to her.” He jerked his shoulder away. “I was talking to Rich. He's the one asked me the question.” His brows went to the angle and he squinted his eyes.

  “I ain't rude, and you ain't my boss. And it don't break my jaw to say nothing, Miss Smarty Pants!” He tore out toward where the men were messing with the mules.

  “Anything you need, Auntie?”

  “Oh, you could check on the girls, please ma'am. Gabby was with them when we stopped, but she slipped out. I don't want Katie Kay to nap too long. She'll fight going to bed tonight if she does.”