Chase’s Story
Book 10 Grandma’s Wedding Quilts Series
P. A. Estelle
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Grandma’s Wedding Quilts Series
About The Author
Copyright
Copyright 2017
Penny Estelle
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Publishers note: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is coincidental.
Prologue
Prologue – 1854
Dr. Charles Forrester carefully examined and cleaned the infant before presenting him to his mother. He’d delivered his share of babies, but his heart practically exploded with pride when he laid his own son in his wife’s arms.
“Viola, here’s our boy, Georgie.” His wife’s blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Thank you for my son.” His simple words were filled with passion as he tenderly kissed her.
The Forrester’s lived in Des Moines, Iowa, where the good doctor set up his practice. Charles was a loving man and a caring doctor. His patients and business associates considered him a pillar of society. Viola would stop by most days, while taking their son out for a walk. Regular patients knew there would be a few minutes’ wait, while the doctor held and showed off his son. Georgie was the light in Charles’ life!
Georgie was two when he developed a cough and Charles assured Viola it was nothing to fret about. All young ones go through this, he’d said. Whooping cough developed and when Georgie died, part of his father’s soul died with him.
After a few years of begging for more children, Charles finally agreed to Viola’s pleas. First came Ione Pearl in 1857 and Josephine in 1858. Chase was born in 1860, but the light in Charles’ eyes never returned.
Chapter 1
Chase came running into the house sliding to a stop when he saw his father, mother, and sister already seated at the table. “I’m sorry for being late. I was—”
“Take that hat off!” his father snapped. “You know how much I hate those kinds of clothes.”
Chase removed his black cowboy hat and took his seat at the table. “I have made a decision and I guess you might as well hear it now as later. I’m going to try to get on at the Buckner’s Ranch.”
“You can’t make a living riding a horse all day.” His father’s voice was strained, and he didn’t look up from his plate as he spoke.
“Word is he’s looking for hands,” Chase continued as if his father hadn’t said a word. “Timmy’s going with me and—”
“Timmy Wilkins doesn’t have the sense God gave him to make such an important decision, but you do! People work with cows because they aren’t smart enough to do anything else.”
“Charles, please,” Viola said.
Charles’ face was beet red. “You are going to The University of Iowa!”
Chase stood up quickly, knocking his chair backwards. “For years I’ve gotten nothing from you but criticism, and that comes only when you honor me with any kind of attention at all. This house is no longer a home. It used to be bearable when both Nee Nee and Josie were here but now that Josie’s gone it’s like a dead house! I’m seventeen and will do as I please and there’s not a thing you can do about it!”
Chase looked at his mother. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you laugh. I’m sorry you have to stay. I hope someday I’ll have my own place and you can come and live there.” He started for his room.
“You’ll be sorry if you leave here!” Charles’ chest heaved as he pointed at his son.
Fire shot from Chase’s blue eyes. “Mother told me before Georgie died you used to be a loving, compassionate man. Happy all the time. That man was nowhere around when I needed a father.” Chase put his hat back on his head. “Georgie’s death was not my fault, nor Nee Nee’s or Josie’s, or Mother’s. You were his doctor, not us!”
“Chase, stop,” Viola sobbed.
He bounded up the stairs to his room but said over his shoulder, “It was over twenty years ago, Father. Time to let it go.”
Ione stood. Tears gathered in her green eyes. “Father, how could you? Why do you treat him like that?” She hurried up the stairs to console her brother.
The sun was barely up when Chase saddled his horse. He jumped when his mother placed her hand on his back. Pale blue eyes were red from crying and she looked so tired. Viola’s long brown hair had streaks of gray in it, making her look older than her forty-four years.
“Mother, I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with emotion.
She shook her head, and without a word, handed him a bag of food. She cleared her throat. “This should keep you and Timmy fed until you reach your destination. I’d appreciate word when you get to where you’re going.”
He hugged her hard, tears stinging his eyes.
“I love you, Son. Be safe.” She turned and ran back to the house.
* * *
Tim Wilkins’ father owned The Des Moines Tribune and with four brothers and three sisters, Tim was ready to get away from the large family and out on his own. When Chase told his friend his plans to work at Buckner’s, Tim shrugged his shoulders and asked, “When do we leave?”
They had been best friends for as long as either could remember and Chase could count on him, no matter what.
Unlike Chase’s family, Tim’s was close and supportive. There were tears and good wishes, along with kisses and hugs, when the two boys rode out for Missouri.
Even without experience working with cattle Sam Buckner hired Chase and Tim on the spot. “I’ve got roundup coming up soon and in my way of thinking, it’s time for some young blood around here.”
A pretty, young blonde called from the ranch. “Pa! I’ve got your lunch ready. Now you come in and eat before it gets cold.”
“Be right in!” Sam shook his head. “That’s my daughter, Sarah. I lost my wife a year back and she has taken on the role of ordering me around.”
Sam turned back to Chase and Tim. “Bunk house is over yonder. Store your gear and head north on that road. Find Gus and tell him I sent ya.” As Sam walked to the house, he yelled over his shoulder, “Don’t disappoint me boys.”
* * *
The first few months were tough ones on the boys. Long hours in the saddle in all kinds of weather. Missing meals or eating cold food. Building a fire and sleeping on the ground, and riding through frigid, swollen streams. There was also learning the ins and outs of working with cattle — branding, using a lasso, and cutting a cow out of the herd. The men were g
ood natured about teaching the boys all they needed to know.
Sam and Gus went into town for supplies. They brought Chase and Tim with them so they would know the way, then this chore would fall to one of them. “Dues,” Gus chuckled, “for being the newest young pups around.”
“When this place was just a squat on the plains it was called Harmony,” Sam told them. “Few years go by and the folks passing through started putting down stakes. That’s when the name changed to Unionville.”
They stopped the wagon in front of the bank and Sam and Gus jumped out. “We’ve got some business here.” Sam handed Chase a list. “You boys can find everything at Goldman’s place down the road on the right. When you young’uns are done, come find us at Joe’s.” Sam pointed to a saloon across the road.
It was almost like a holiday, going to town, after working so many days straight. Tim pushed his strawberry blond hair behind his ears to get it out of his eyes. He always kept his hair a bit long. He had dark brown eyes and long white-tipped lashes. Chase, on the other hand, had black hair and at his father’s insistence, it had always been cut short and neat. He was glad to let it grow out. It had become a bit shaggy and he was more than fine with that.
They pulled the wagon in front of mercantile. Inside was a gentleman stocking the shelves.
“Excuse me,” Chase said, “Mr. Goldman?”
“That would be me.” A balding man turned to face them. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“Sam Buckner sent me with this list.” He handed it over.
The man nodded as he looked the list over. “I’ll get it all together. Take a few minutes.”
“Thank you, sir. Appreciate it,” Chase said.
“Well now don’t he got the best manners ever, Clem?” Three pairs of eyes shot to the door. There stood two boys, each wearing overalls and a coat. It was apparent neither had missed many meals.
“Billy and Clem Coogan,” Mr. Goldman warned, “you know what your pa said about starting trouble.”
“Just being neighborly is all,” Billy responded. He reached into a jar and pulled out several peppermint sticks. “Put these on Pa’s bill.”
When Mr. Goldman went into the storeroom, Clem started in. “Look at this purty boy with the light-colored hair, Billy. I’m wondering if he’s isn’t the other’s cow bunny.”
Tim took a step forward but was stopped by Chase when he shot out an arm. “Don’t work yourself up, Tim. We’ve heard stories about these Missouri hayseeds and they’re,” Chase winked at the Coogans, “brotherly love. Seems it’s all true.”
Clem looked from his brother back to Chase. “What’s he saying, Billy?”
“Shut up, Clem,” Billy said, teeth gritted. He grabbed his brother’s sleeve and pulled him out the door.
Mr. Goldman helped load the supplies into the wagon. He told Chase to come back in and sign a ledger for everything they’d received. When he came back out Tim was nowhere around. Chase heard sounds coming from the alleyway next to the store and turned the corner just in time to see Billy’s fist connect with Tim’s jaw, while Clem held his arms. Tim grunted as blood poured from his lip.
Without a second thought, Chase launched himself at Billy’s beefy body. A whoosh of air escaped from the boy when his shoulder rammed into Billy’s stomach. They were on the ground, throwing punches, when Billy’s weight overtook Chase. Pain exploded as Billy’s fist came down hard on Chase’s cheek, under his eye. He raised his arm to do more damage, but before he could, Chase grabbed a rock and brought it up hard against Billy’s head. The bulky farmer fell to the side, allowing Chase to breathe. He got to his feet and gave the jackass a kick for good measure.
Tim was loose now and brought up an elbow, connecting with Clem’s nose. Blood gushed.
“I think you broke my nose,” Clem whined, covering his face with a hand. His eyes squinted with fury and he rushed at Tim like an enraged buffalo, throwing a punch that, if landed, would have knocked Tim’s teeth out. Tim backed up in time to miss the blow and pushed Clem, head first, into the wall of Goldman’s store, knocking him out cold.
Sam and Gus walked out of Joe’s Saloon and saw the wagon across the road. They were laughing at something when they both stopped and stared at the bloody, swollen faces of their young hands. Chase and Tim sat in the back of the wagon, each leaning against the sides.
Without a word Sam and his foreman jumped up on the seat and Sam took the reins. As he turned the horses around he finally said, “My pa always told me if the good Lord intended us to fight like a dog, he’d have given us longer claws an’ teeth. But I do have to wonder if you boys got in a bite or two?”
As they were passed Goldman’s store, they saw Billy stumble to the water trough, where he dunked his head. Clem was getting to his feet with the help of a passer-by, and whining about his broken nose.
Tim laughed, but it turned into a groan because of his split lip. Chase crossed his arms and closed his eyes, a smirk crossing his lips. “We got in a couple licks.” . Every time one of the wagon wheels dropped into a rut, Tim sucked in his breath and grabbed his side.
By the time the wagon reached Buckner’s ranch house, Chase was feeling every punch that his body had suffered and his left eye was swollen shut
Gus chuckled, “Probably got yourself some bruised ribs there, young’un. Get you back in the saddle and you’ll feel a heap better.” The old man was rewarded with a chorus of moans and mumbling, which got both Sam and Gus hooting with laughter.
Sarah came out of the house to inspect the supplies and make sure all was gotten. When she saw the state of Tim Wilkin, she gasped and brought her hands to her face. Her eyes widened with shock and her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. She jumped in the wagon and kneeled. “Timmy, are you okay? What happened?”
Chase looked at his friend, surprised she called him Timmy.
“Who did this?” Sarah glared at her father. “How could you let this happen?”
Sam raised his hands in the air. “We weren’t there. It was the Coogan’s, but I got to say these lads handled themselves just fine.”
Sarah guided his arm around her shoulder, helping him to stand. “We need to get him into the house. I have some salve that will help to heal those cuts.”
Once Tim was on the ground, Sarah put an arm around his waist and led him inside.
Chase didn’t move. It hurt too much. Through his only good eye, he watched, concern for his friend, front and foremost. Tim leaned on Sarah, limping beside her. He looked back at Chase over his shoulder, his face a mask of pain, at least until a smirk appeared and he winked before disappearing into the house.
Gus burst out laughing as Chase’s mouth dropped open. “You must not have made the grade, kid. Come on. Your luck can’t get no better. You get me to fix you up.”
Chapter 2
The focus for Chase and Tim, during the next four years, was worlds apart. Chase tried to learn everything there was to know about ranching, while Tim put all his attention into the boss’s daughter. Chase made no bones about wanting to own a place of his own and Tim’s intentions were also clear, he wanted a wife — a pretty wife. And if she brought a bit of money into the marriage, that would be alright, too.
One night Chase and July Stevens were sitting around a campfire after rounding up some strays, miles from the ranch. Smoke drifted up into a cloudless sky and a blanket of stars sparkled for as far as the eye could see. July was a crusty, leathery, cowhand who’d worked for Sam Buckner on and off for years.
“You from around here, July?”
“I was born not too far from right here,” the old man answered, chewing on an old cigar.
“I’ve been here about four or five years now,” Chase said, throwing another piece of wood on the fire, “and each year, right before spring, you show up and hire on. Then end of summer, or so, you up and pull out. Where do you go?”
“One day, my pa says, ‘Your ma and me is hea
ded to the New Mexico Territory. We’s gonna follow the Santa Fe Trail. We’d like you boys to come along if you got the notion.’ I asked where they was headed and he told me, they’d know when they saw it.” July hooted in laughter, which turned into a fit of coughing. “So me and Perly, my older brother, and my folks ended up in Santa Fe in the New Mexico Territory. Ma was a right decent cook so they opened an eatery. There were so many folks passing through or laying stakes down, that we were busy all the time, enough for me and Perly to know we didn’t want no part of that business.”
“You go back each year to help them out?” Chase asked.
“Few years back, Ma passed and it twern’t a month later Pa went to meet her. Early on, Perly got himself several thousand acres in the Arizona Territory and has a small cattle ranch. He married himself a nice little Indian gal and they had a boy, who died when he got snake bit. I go out each year to see him. This year I found Perly ailing right bad. I could hear that rattle down deep in his lungs.”
The old man’s eyes glisten in the firelight. “I’m sorry, July.”
July cleared his throat and shrugged. “Ain’t your fault. Perly left me his ranch and his wife hightailed it back to her family.”
“Well what are you doing back here, old man? You have your very own ranch. That’s my dream!”
“You better hobble them lips boy!” Another fit of coughing took July’s words. When he was done, he squinted at Chase. “You ever been to the Arizona Territory?” Chase shook his head. “In the summer it’s hotter than blue blazes. Damn near sweated the life right out of me the one and only time I was there in them months. That’s why I come back here every spring. Guess the cool and cold suit me better.”
“What’s happening with your brother’s place?”
Chase's Story (Grandma's Wedding Quilts Book 10) Page 1