A Promised Land
Lockets and Lace
Book 16
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By Kimberly Grist
Copyright © 2019 Kimberly Grist
All rights reserved.
ASIN: B07P7F5RPF
Dedication
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This book is dedicated to
The hard-working authors of the Sweet Americana Sweethearts blog who provide the world with sweet/clean historical romances about North Americans between 1820 and 1929.
To my critique partners Kris and Mary. I will forever be grateful for your encouragement and support.
CONTENTS
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Acknowledgments
Connect with Kimberly
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Chapter 11 Chapter 12
Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Chapter 15 Chapter 16
Chapter 17 Chapter 18
Chapter 19 Chapter 20
Chapter 21 Chapter 22
Chapter 23 Chapter 24
Chapter 25 Chapter 26
Chapter 27 Chapter 28
Chapter 29 Chapter 30
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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This book is part of a multi-author series sponsored by the authors who write for the Sweet Americana Sweethearts blog. My appreciation and thanks go to those other authors who helped develop the Lockets & Lace series of books.
I offer my appreciation to Carpe Librum Book Covers for the cover design for my novel.
DISCLAIMER
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All the characters described in this story are fictional. They are not based on any real persons, past or present. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and unintended.
Trickling Springs, Texas –March 1888
CHAPTER 1
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“And he hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, even a land that floweth with milk and honey.”
Deuteronomy 26:9
The afternoon sun peeked above two partially covered windows, casting light and warmth into the one-room schoolhouse. Two schoolchildren stood in front of the black-painted wooden wall, which served as the chalkboard, awaiting the next spelling-bee word.
Twenty-year-old teacher, Meriwether Walker, glanced at the clock. “I’m afraid we are out of time, students. You’ve all improved so much this term. Congratulations on a job well done. I need to speak with Mark, but for everyone else, class dismissed.”
The children’s bare feet padded across the recently-oiled plank floor as they retrieved lunch pails, caps and outer garments from the cloakroom.
Nine-year-old Mark appeared at her desk. Rays of sunlight shone on his hair, highlighting warm golden strands. His brown eyes fringed by dark eyelashes overwhelmed his thin face.
Her mouth twitched. “Do you know what this is about?”
“Yes ma’am, I reckon I do. I shouldn’t have put the snake in Bertha’s lunch pail.” He shuffled his feet. “But it was just a plain ole garden snake that wouldn’t hurt nothing.”
“Thank goodness. Still, you scared Bertha. Not to mention you disrupted the class. What made you do such a thing? I thought you liked her.”
“She’s alright for a girl, I guess. The truth is I meant it for her brother, Bobby. Me and him always trade critters.” Mark rubbed his hands on his pants.
Meriwether rose from her desk and faced her pupil. “What do you suppose your father will say?”
His freckled face puckered. “I reckon he’ll tell me school ain’t the place to be trading critters.”
“I would agree.” She covered her mouth to conceal a smile. ”Do I have your word you will not bring another reptile, bug or other animal—living or dead—to school unless you receive specific instruction from me or any other teacher going forward?”
Mark’s head bobbed up and down. “Miss Walker, you are the best teacher in the state of Texas and I’m mighty grateful.” He cleared his throat and bowed his head. “Dear Holy Father in heaven, I am thankful to you for getting me through the hard times. Help me to be more responsible, and please bless Miss Walker who is more merciful than I deserve. Amen.”
The young boy lifted his head slightly and peered at her through his lashes. The precocious son of the local pastor, no doubt he’d been encouraged to pray about his impulsivity before. Whether he was sincere or not, only time would tell. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Her boots made soft taps as she swept the room where she’d taught thirty to forty schoolchildren of various ages each year for the past four. The potbellied stove stood in front of the blackboard. Twenty-one double desks sat in three rows. The whitewashed wall and the yellow calico curtains she’d made helped to provide a pleasant appearance.
She sighed and closed the door. Meriwether had grown to love her students and the town where she lived. The primary shortfall of her teaching career was having to board with families of her students on a rotation basis. Though living in the community allowed her to be close to the schoolhouse, some accommodations were better than others. She shivered as she recalled a recent stay where she was forced to sleep on the floor to avoid a community of bedbugs.
Meriwether hurried toward the center of town to meet with an attorney and get the final details on an unexpected inheritance from her mother’s uncle. She stilled her heart, then entered the law office.
“Afternoon, Miss Walker.” Edwin Davis gave a broad smile. “Please come in and take a seat.”
Meriwether grasped her reticule by its drawstrings and lowered herself onto a soft leather chair. The attorney placed his glasses on his nose and retrieved a file. An attractive man in his mid-fifties with dark hair streaked with silver, he was of moderate height and build. He wore tailored trousers and a sack coat buttoned only at the top possibly to show his vest and watch chain to their best advantage.
Mr. Davis tapped the paper with his pencil. “As you know your great uncle, Marcus Meriwether, was a man of wealth and prominence and named you in his will to be the recipient of his ranch. You and your mother spent quite a bit of time in residence there when you were a young girl, correct?”
“Yes, we visited every summer. I also lived with him and my aunt after my mother passed away. They moved back east when I was thirteen.” Meriwether stared into the distance. “I have fond memories of his home and the land surrounding it. My mother and uncle referred to it as a little piece of heaven.”
Mr. Davis studied the document, then removed his glasses. “Congratulations are in order then, because after you agree to the terms and sign a few documents, you will be the proud owner of a small piece of paradise just a short train ride west of our town.”
The attorney slid the document across his desk. “Your uncle’s additional properties were divided amongst other relatives, but it was his wish to leave the Texas farmhouse, the surrounding two-hundred acres, and a few other items which belonged to his mother, Mae Meriwether, to you.”
Her eyebrows narrowed as she read the document. “It says the estate is mine to do with as I wish.”
“Yes, although Mr. Meriwether does mention he would like you to pass it on to your family one day. His suggestion is for you to live there one year before making a decision about the property.”
Meriwether placed her hand on her stomach. “It’s as though I’m in a dream. I find it hard to believe I’m the beneficiary of such a gift. I can’t imagine ever wanting to sell it. My only concern is how will I be able to maintain the property?”
The attorney nodded. “Your uncle has been preparing for this day for quite some time. He employ
s a caretaker by the name of Thomas Baker, who lives about one-hundred yards from the farmhouse with his wife. In appreciation of their service, your uncle bequeathed their home and several acres to them. The Bakers manage everything and will live close enough to the farmhouse, should you need assistance.
“Currently, the land adjacent to the farmhouse is leased to a neighbor, Mr. Jake Harrison, who needed additional grazing areas and water for his cattle. The yearly income for the lease will be enough to allow you to live comfortably. If you choose to accept the inheritance, your uncle’s one stipulation was that if you decide to sell, it would be to Mr. Harrison at a price already agreed upon.” The attorney reached for another document.
Meriwether stared at the figure, which made her salary of twelve dollars a month seem minuscule. She gasped. “That’s an enormous amount of money.”
Mr. Davis nodded. “Yes, and I’ll be honest, Mr. Harrison fully expects you to take him up on the offer.”
She lifted her chin. “But I don’t want to sell.”
CHAPTER 2
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“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” John 14:27
After four weeks a replacement teacher was hired and in place. Meriwether was sad to leave her students but thrilled at the prospect of relocating to the farmhouse. She’d written to her father telling him of the outcome of her inheritance, but he’d not replied. Their relationship remained strained since he’d remarried. A busy country doctor, he’d grown weary of the conflict between Meriwether and his new wife and encouraged her to take a teaching job at the age of sixteen.
“It’s better this way. You’ve studied hard and wanted to teach since you were a young girl. It’s a good opportunity. Make the most of it,” her father had said as he drove the hour and a half to the town of Bluebonnet. Their contact was limited—primarily through correspondence with her stepsister, Charlotte, who was now fifteen.
Meriwether studied her image in her small mirror and rearranged the auburn curls framing her face. Blue eyes stared back at her. The chain from her mother’s locket shimmered in the reflection. She returned her compact to her reticule, then opened the pendant, her mother’s smiling face greeting her. “I wish you were here with me, Mama. What I wouldn’t give to spend one more day with you exploring your favorite places on the ranch.”
The shrill sound of the locomotive’s whistle rang out. Meriwether closed the pendant, reached for her reticule and shawl and walked to the platform.
The engine slowly chugged forward, enveloping her in a cloud of steam. Her belly fluttered as the conductor exited the train and assisted several finely-attired women passengers. It seemed everyone had made a special effort with their appearance. She smoothed her simple two-piece blue calico dress, squared her shoulder and boarded the train.
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Her first trip on a locomotive was relatively uneventful, and within an hour, the conductor bellowed her stop, “Trickling Springs.”
Meriwether heaved a heavy sigh and waited on the platform as the locomotive pulled away. Her attorney assured her Mr. Baker and his wife would meet her, but no one matching their description approached. The town was larger than she recalled and now included a post office, blacksmith, livery stable, hotel and bank. She placed her hand over her straw hat, her skirts flapping as a gust of April wind blew with a vengeance.
The clunking of heavy boots drew her attention toward a tall, muscular cowboy. His ivory-patterned work shirt and leather vest hinted at broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His Peacemaker rested in a single belt and double-loop holster over his right hip. Goodness, the man was gorgeous. Smoky gray eyes met hers as he lifted his black Stetson, exposing dark hair that curled slightly above his collar. “Miss Walker?”
“Yes.” Meriwether cleared her throat. “Are you Mr. Baker?”
“No,” the cowboy chuckled exposing a bright smile. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself. I’m Jake Harrison. The Bakers are waiting with the attorney at the bank.” He waved his hat toward the building.
Her eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”
The cowboy placed his hat on his head, and his lips pressed together. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s calving season and I need to get back. There’s some paperwork which needs to be signed, and the sooner we get this over with the better off we’ll both be. Everyone is waiting.” He motioned a thumb toward the bank.
Meriwether’s skirt snapped in the wind. “I need to get my bag and trunk.” She motioned toward her flat top steamer chest.
His eyes widened. “Your trunk?” he muttered under his breath and motioned for the baggage handler. “I’ll ask him to store it for now.”
She squared her shoulders. “My attorney didn’t mention anything about additional paperwork.”
The cowboy rubbed his forehead. “Look Miss, the sooner we get across the street, the quicker the attorney can answer your questions.”
Meriwether clamped her mouth shut. She gathered her skirt, tucked her chin and took forceful steps against the wind. Strong arms steadied her as she stumbled on the stairs. She avoided his gaze as he opened the door.
A slight pressure on her arm steered her to a back office. Meriwether blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dark-paneled walls. A middle-aged gentleman with a receding hairline, wearing a charcoal frock coat, burgundy vest and matching silk puff tie, extended his hand. “You must be Miss Walker. I’m Josiah Peters, Mr. Harrison’s attorney. Please be seated.”
“In the interest of time, Mr. Harrison has already signed his portion of the documents, so all we need is your signature.” The attorney gave a short nod to a middle-aged couple, then extended Meriwether a pen.
She shook her head. “As I stated to Mr. Harrison, my attorney never mentioned the need to sign additional documents. He assured me the paperwork was complete, and all I would need to do is take up residence.”
“Take up residence?” Jake Harrison sprang to his feet. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but your uncle and I agreed to a fair price, and it’s all written down in black and white.” He reached for the paper and thrust it into her hand.
“There’s no reason to become unsettled, Mr. Harrison. I feel certain the young lady is simply confused.” Mr. Peters sat on the edge of his desk and patted his chest. “Please allow me to explain.”
The attorney’s voice rose to a higher pitch. “Miss Walker, your uncle and Mr. Harrison have already taken care of the legalities. You simply need to sign the bill of sale which states you agree with the terms for Mr. Harrison to purchase the estate.”
Meriwether raised one eyebrow. “Thank you for explaining, sir. However, I’m not the one who is confused. I have no intention of selling the property.”
“Now see here,” Jake Harrison scowled. “You won’t get a dime more playing this game.”
Her jaw dropped. “Mr. Harrison obviously there has been a terrible misunderstanding. I was thrilled when I learned of the inheritance. I’ve quit my teaching position and traveled here today with the understanding I was to be met by the Bakers who would take me to the log house.”
Mr. Peters waved a paper. “The only correspondence I’ve received from your lawyer is by way of telegraph stating your arrival time today. It’s preposterous for a young single woman to consider living alone in such a remote location. It appears to me you’ve received poor guidance.”
The attorney mopped his face with a handkerchief. Meriwether cocked her head. “I suppose your suggestion would be to take the money and move elsewhere?”
“I believe most women are inclined to make decisions based on feelings. Your motivation derives from fond memories and matters of the heart.” Mr. Peters clasped his hands, and he pressed his lips into a thin smile. “The realities of living in a secluded location are too severe for a young woman alone. Quite frankly, I’m shocked you would consider it.”
Mer
iwether’s fingernails dug into her palms. “I’ve lived on my own since I was sixteen, Mr. Peters. I assure you I have thought this through and will not allow you to shame, patronize or bamboozle me into changing my mind.”
The attorney’s back straightened. “Now see here, Miss, I will not have you question my integrity.”
“Then you had best not call it into question, sir.” She pivoted and exited the room. Her boots tapped sharply on the polished hardwood floors through the lobby and out the door. Nose in the air, nostrils flared, Meriwether’s anger circled and wrapped her emotions like the wind intertwined her skirts.
Standing at the end of the boardwalk, she took in a deep breath. What am I supposed to do now, Lord?
A wooden signboard swung from its chain across the street. Meriwether lifted her chin and stormed in the direction of the sheriff’s office.
CHAPTER 3
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“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33
Meriwether studied the short stubble on the deputy’s square jaw. His lips moved as he read each word of the transfer-of-deed document. His brown eyes met hers. “Everything appears to be in order, just like you said, ma’am.”
He folded the papers and returned them to the leather pouch. The armchair creaked as Deputy Tucker stood and returned the document to Meriwether. “You asked me what I would do. I’d probably punch the lawyer square on the chin.” He grinned, displaying matching dimples on either side of his mouth. “But although it might make me feel better, it wouldn’t solve a thing.”
A Promised Land Page 1