Table of Contents
Copyright
Amanda’s New Beginning
Chapter One: The Deal
Chapter Two: Uncle Hayes
Chapter Three: Trip into the Cold
Chapter Four: Words on a Cold Day
Chapter Five: Trail of Doubt
Chapter Six: Fight in the Snow
Chapter Seven: Home
Chapter Eight: Boston
The Surprise Baby (Sample)
© Copyright 2019 by Sandee Keegan - All rights reserved.
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Amanda’s New Beginning
By: Sandee Keegan
Chapter One: The Deal
“The world is so bland,” I complained to my mother in a whiny voice. “Mother, you must realize that the time is arriving for me to leave this…drab little town you and father call home.”
My mother handed me a brown plate, studied my long, silk, red hair, and then went back to washing dishes in a worn-down sink. “You need to put your hair up, Amanda. We have more chores to do after the breakfast dishes are washed. And for the love of everything good change out of your good dress and put on your brown work dress.”
I glanced down at the pretty pink dress I had chosen to wear for breakfast. I admit I felt silly wearing my best dress on a boring work day, but I wanted to feel beautiful, important and…yes…alive. Living on a small farm in southern Tennessee was draining the life out of my heart. I was a young and beautiful twenty-one-year-old woman who was anxious to explore the entire world; a world filled with life, music, romance, adventure, and dreams—especially music. I was very talented at playing the piano. Sadly, the only piano I was able to touch was the old piano at our local church’; that poor piano always sounded like a broken-down dog trying to howl itself to death. “Oh, Mother, must I?” I complained again. “I was so hoping to ride into town and see if Mr. Richmond has any new dresses in.”
My mother pushed her graying brown hair away from her eyes, gave me a very stern look, and went back to washing the breakfast dishes in the same old brown dress she always wore on the farm. My heart broke for her. She looked older than forty-two years of age and simply worn down. Yet, I knew deep down in my heart, my mother was a very happy woman married to a good man who worked hard, stayed away from the whiskey, and read the Bible to his family each night before bed. “Amanda, we can’t afford a new dress for you right now. You know as well as anyone else the drought last summer hurt everyone in these parts.”
“I didn’t imply that I was going to buy a new dress, Mother,” I sighed and dried the plate in my hand with a dish towel. “And yes, I know our neighbors were hurt by the drought just as badly as we were.” I decided to distance myself from the topic of weather and dress browsing and return to the subject of my leaving home. “Mother, I am twenty-one years of age now…and the time is coming…the time has arrived…for me to leave home,” I said in a very careful voice. My mother was used to me whining about leaving to explore the world. I knew the time had arrived for me to let her know that I truly wanted to leave home.
My mother stopped washing the breakfast dishes and studied my eyes. “Amanda Baron, the world is a very difficult place. It’s not the fairytale you make it out to be on your mind,” she told me in a kind and patine voice, a voice only a mother could speak with when her child was preparing to make a bold step forward without thinking the matter through first. “Your father and I are both aware that you’re anxious to leave the farm. It’s just that we don’t believe you’re…mature enough…just yet.”
“Mature enough?” I exclaimed and dropped into a pouty fuss. “Why, just last week I saved little Wilbur Millins from drowning in the river. I nearly ruined my best dress doing so too.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Little Wilbur Millins feel into two feet of water while trying to walk a fallen log across the river. It’s highly doubtful he would have drowned. And I recall, Matthew Rowwood was not standing far away. Maybe a certain young lady wanted to make herself appear as a heroine?”
My cheeks blushed red. “Why, Mother, what an awful suggestion to make so early in the morning.”
My mother looked into my eyes. “Amanda,” she said in a loving voice, “when your father…the man who I married in Boston…died…I was left penniless. Oh, he was a sweet man who worked hard and never laid a hand on me, but in time he began to love the bottle and ended up getting himself stabbed to death.” My mother sighed. “I was young, like you, and determined to conquer the world. But when my husband died, I was forced to see the world for what it was…I was forced to see the world for what it was long before my husband was killed. So what did I do? Why, I packed my bags and came right back home to Tennessee, pregnant and ashamed, feeling as if I had failed myself more than anyone else. But my folks took me in, loved me up, helped me raise you up until you were three, and then helped me marry a good man who didn’t care a lick about my past. And you know what?”
“What?” I asked.
“I found that this little part of Tennessee is more beautiful than the whole world put together,” my mother smiled. “The fresh Tennessee air, the river, the valleys…beauty is all around us, Amanda…God’s beauty…but I was too young and foolish to realize that when I left home and pointed my mind toward Boston. I know that may be difficult for you to understand right now, but someday you will.”
I grew silent and looked down at the breakfast plate in my hand. “Mother…I want to make my own mistakes,” I finally spoke in a desperate voice. “Only, I won’t allow my path to become hindered by my mistakes. I can…conquer the dreams living inside of my heart, crying to be free.”
My mother studied my eyes without blinking. “I can see that you have a fire burning inside of you,” she sighed and slowly went back to washing up the breakfast dishes. As she did a deep, thoughtful, expression walked into her eyes. “Amanda, would you be willing to take a test before your father and I allow you to leave home?”
“A test?” I asked in a confused voice.
“Yes, a test,” my mother told me. She raised her eyes, looked out of the kitchen window, and studied the large brown barn surrounded by sweet tasting fields full of crops. “I may have a solution that might give you the opportunity to tangle with the world for a while and ensuring that you’ll be safe while doing it.”
I felt excitement race into my heart. “Oh, Mother, are you going to send me to Boston?”
“Well, no,” my mother replied and calmly handed me another plate. “I was thinking more along the lines of sending you out west to Nevada to stay with your father’s brother.”
“Uncle Hayes?” I exclaimed. “Oh, Mother, how dreadful. Why…that man…he lives in empty goldmines and packs his entire life on the back of a…dusty old mule.”
My mother turned her eyes to me. “Maybe so, Amanda, but he’s an honest, good, man. He was married to a lovely woman before she died to cancer.” My mother kept her eyes on me. “Your Uncle Hayes is a man. I admit that he’s a bit…eccentric at times…but aren’t we all? I talk to the cows and your father talks to the crops. Sometimes I hear you talking to your diary. Does that mean we’re to be avoided by our friends and family?”
“No. But, Mother—”
My mother held up a soapy hand. “Amanda, if you can survive six months with your Uncle Hayes, then
your father and I will send you to Boston with our blessings.”
My heart kept for joy but then settled down. Spending six months with a crazy, gold hungry, person wasn’t going to be easy. “Mother,” I said speaking in a calm, controlled, ladylike voice, “I accept your challenge and will overcome all difficulties until I acquire victory in this matter.”
“You’ll acquire victory when you start speaking normal instead of talking like one of those silly characters in those books you read,” my mother told me and then smiled. “I’ll speak with your father and see what he thinks. I don’t think he will object. Now, we have chores to do.”
I bit down on my lower lip and went back to drying the breakfast dishes. I had a difficult battle ahead of me. “I can win,” I whispered and set my mind to thinking about Uncle Hayes. Uncle Hayes was a kind man, but he was also—in my opinion—a bit loose in his thinking too. No matter, I thought, a challenge was a challenge. If I won the challenge my folks would send me to Boston with their blessings resting on my shoulders. “I can win,” I whispered again and focused on thinking about Uncle Hayes.
<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>
The stagecoach let me off in a cold, dusty little town lined with wooden buildings that looked ready to fall over and bury themselves in the ground. A few horses were tied up in front of a filthy saloon. Ugly music mingled in with drunk laughter, tumbled out of the saloon, and fell out into the street. “Are you sure this is Brush Flats?” I asked a heavy man wearing a thick brown coat.
“Yes ma’am, this is Brush Flats,” the man told me and handed me two suitcases. The man glanced at the saloon and then studied the horses. “The Norris Boys are back in town,” he told me and hurried back up into his seat. “You better stay off the streets past dark, ma’am,” he said and yelled at the team of horses attached to the stagecoach to get moving. The team of horses was more than happy to leave Flat Brush.
I felt dread strike my heart. Not only had traveling to Nevada been very difficult…now I was trapped in a town that would make a coyote howl in misery. “I mustn’t give up,” I told myself as an icy gust of wind grabbed at the white bonnet I was wearing and then ripped at my brown coat. The wind felt horrible, cruel and mean. I had never felt such a cold wind before. “Well, there is certainly no sense in standing out here on this street and freezing.” I searched the building standing directly in front of me. The building—supposedly a hotel—was nothing more than a small merchandise store offering lodging in a back supply room. “I…oh my,” I complained reading a wooden sign nailed up next to the front door. I drew in a worried breath and dared to walk into the building expecting to encounter a drunk, filthy, man chewing on a whiskey bottle. I was shocked when lovely old woman with the prettiest gray hair I had ever seen greeted me. “Oh, hello.”
“Saw you get off the stage, honey,” the old woman told me in a worried voice and pointed at a wood burning stove. “Close the door before you let the heat escape.”
I quickly closed the front door and sat down my two suitcases and let my eyes roam around the front room I was standing in. The room was lined with bags of flour, sugar, furs, some can goods, grain, and even some books. But what caught my attention the most was a beautiful piano sitting a pretty and warm next to the back wall. “Oh, a piano,” I gasped.
The old woman nodded her head and walked out from behind a wooden counter, picked up a jar of candy, opened it, took out a piece, and then walked over to the wood burning stove sitting in the middle of the room and began warming her hands. “These old hands can’t play like they used to,” she told me and tugged on a heavy brown fur she had draped over her shoulders. She saw me look at the fur. “Honey, fur keeps a person mighty warm when the wind is mighty cruel. Out in these parts, a woman has to put her concern for fashion away and allow her mind to think reasonably.”
“Of…course,” I said and forced a smile to my lips. I was far too cold and too hungry to worry about fashion. If the old woman was content wearing a fur that kept her warm who was I to object? Besides, the fur did appear mighty warm looking. “I…would like a room for the night, please.”
The old woman shook her head no. “Room is already taken, honey.”
“But…I…” I looked down at my luggage.
“Stop fretting,” the old woman told me, “Patrick Hayes will be along shortly to fetch you. And not soon enough. Those Norris Boys are drinking up the town. It won’t be long before the bullets start raining down.” The old woman threw a worried glance at the front door. “Patrick needs to get himself on into town and fetch you right quick.”
“Who are the Norris Boys?” I dared to ask.
The old woman stuck her wrinkled old hands over the wood burning stove. “The Norris Boys are the sons of Hank Norris, one of the meanest rattlesnakes in these parts. Hank and his sons killed off the law in this town. Not a man within fifty miles will dare walk into this town wearing a badge.”
“Oh my,” I gasped. I spun around and reached for the front door. “I don’t think I need to be here,” I said feeling panic grab my heart. “I’m sure I can walk to the next town if I hurry.”
Right as I reached for the front door it swung open. A tall, large, grizzly bear of a man appeared wearing black beard and deadly eyes. He looked at me with disgust and then focused his eyes on the old woman. “Bertha, cook up some grub,” he snapped and slammed the front door.
The old woman hurried away into the back room, leaving me alone. “I…was leaving,” I said in a nervous voice and carefully picked up my two suitcases and eased outside. The large man grumbled something and slammed the front door shut as soon as I stepped outside.
I threw my eyes up and down the street and then decided to run east. As I did I heard a man call out to me in a low whisper. “Over here…Amanda Baron…over here.”
I stopped in my tracks and looked to my left. I saw a man ten years older than my father standing behind a worn-down livery stable with a mule at his side. He waved at me to hurry over to him. “Uncle Hayes?” I whispered and ran over to the livery stable.
Uncle Hayes put his finger to his lip, firmly took hold of my right wrist, and walked me away into a group of thick trees as the icy winds yipped and yelled.
Chapter Two: Uncle Hayes
I walked with Uncle Hayes across rough, cold, land for what appeared to be forever. By the time we reached a small, very well hidden, log cabin tucked in between larges trees, I felt like I was going to collapse. “Here we are, Niece,” Uncle Hayes said and cast me an uncertain eye as he tied his mule to a tree. The mule’s back was loaded down with mining tools. “You must be awful hungry, huh?”
I stared at Uncle Hayes. The man was tall, thin, and wore a long gray beard that matched his gray coat and gray pants. His face was hard as leather from years of working out in the desert sun—yet his eyes were kind and gentle and caring. I didn’t see no harm in the man; no harm at all. Instead, I saw a man who was awful worried for my safety and well-being. “I’m hungry, Uncle Hayes,” I confessed. I turned my attention to his cabin. The cabin was small but nice and cozy in appearance. “May we go inside, please? I’m frozen all over.”
“Oh yeah, sure, sure,” Uncle Hayes told me and ran to the front door of his cabin and threw it open. “I left the fire going and a pot of stew cooking. Should be cooked by now.”
I walked into a simple front room that held a couch, a sitting chair, a table and a fireplace; a rifle hung over the fireplace. To my left was a small kitchen and to my right a door that led into a bedroom. The cabin was very ‘Bland’ at best and was in desperate need of a woman’s touch. But, I thought feeling grateful to be somewhere—anywhere—that was warm and safe, the cabin wasn’t exactly ‘horrible’, either. A pot hanging over the fireplace was cooking what smelled like a delicious stew and the fireplace itself was bathing the front room with considerable heat that was soothing to the heart. “It’s very warm,” I told Uncle Hayes in a grateful voice.
Uncle Hays quickly closed the front door and looked arou
nd. “It’s not fitting for a woman,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck with nervous hands. “I tried to straighten up a bit…reckon I didn’t do good of a job. Been out mining with Old Jack.”
“Your mule?” I asked.
Uncle Hayes nodded his head, removed a brown hat, and ran his right hand through bushy brown hair that was quickly turning gray. “Old Jack and me…we do okay together.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said feeling exhaustion tear at my mind. I turned and faced Uncle Hayes. “Uncle Hayes, it was very decent of you to allow me to come and visit you. I’m very grateful.”
“Oh, I couldn’t say no to family,” Uncle Hayes told me. “My mind just ain’t sure why a pretty young flower like you wanted to come and stay with an old dusty rock like myself?” Uncle Hayes put his hat on a wooden table resting beside the front door and removed his coat. “Not that I mind…family is family…but the mind sure does have to wonder.”
I stared at Uncle Hayes. The poor man was under the impression that I willfully—for whatever strange reason—wanted to visit him on my own accord. Guilt stung my heart. “Oh, Uncle Hayes, the truth is, Mother sent me on a dare.”
“A dare?” Uncle Hayes gave me a curious look. “What kind of dare?”
I sighed. “Uncle Hayes, I have my heart set on living in Boston, marrying a wealthy man, and traveling the world. But my parents don’t think I’m fit…I’m mature…enough to challenge the world on own yet. So Mother sent me on a dare—well, a challenge, really—but a dare in my mind nonetheless.” I walked over to the fireplace and began warming my hands. “Mother said if I can survive living with you for six months then she and father would send me to Boston with their blessings intact. I accepted.”
A simple grin touched Uncle Hayes mouth. “Well, I’ll be,” he said. “They sent me a wild bronco to tame.” Uncle Hayes shook his head. “I figured there was a reason for you wanting to come and visit me.”
Amanda's New Beginning: Contemporary Romance Page 1