The Last Bloom
Page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Other Roberta C.M. DeCaprio titles
The Last Bloom
Copyright
Dedications
Quote
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
After one glance she thought
life had been kind to Brodie. Truth be told, life had been downright generous. The lean, baby-faced young man she bid farewell to had returned a well-built, muscular gentleman with a strong, handsome face. But the russet curls and large green eyes were the same, as was the genuine, kind smile that spread across his semi-freckled face when he spied her entering the door.
In an instant he came to her, his strong arms circling her waist in a familiar embrace. She immediately, standing on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled the clean scent of spice that was his aftershave. “Thank God you’re finally here,” she whispered, meaning her words more than even she realized.
“Did you have any doubt I’d come?” He pulled back to search her face.
Her cheeks warmed beneath his scrutiny. She stepped from his embrace, confused. What had changed between them? This was Brodie, the neighbor and friend who was more like an older brother—looking out for her and buying her ice cream with the first pay he earned mucking the local stables. He picked her up when she fell, wiped her tears, and carried her to his father when she’d skinned her knee. He kept bullies from teasing her as she walked home from school. Why did she now feel so strange in his presence?
She cleared her throat nervously. “No, I had no doubts at all.”
Other Roberta C.M. DeCaprio titles
available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
A RIVER OF ORANGE
Between The Rifle and The Spear Series:
THE GOLDEN LADY
ONE PERFECT FLOWER
A ROSE IN AMBER
BORN OF PROUD BLOOD
RETURN TO WILLOW CREEK
The Last Bloom
by
Roberta C.M. DeCaprio
Between The Rifle and The Spear,
Book 6
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Last Bloom
COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Roberta C.M. DeCaprio
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by RJ Morris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Cactus Rose Edition, 2018
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1907-0
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1908-7
Between The Rifle and The Spear, Book 6
Published in the United States of America
Dedications
To the memory of my dog, Kitty Girl,
and my mother-in-law, Helen Watson Lemke.
Both passed away during the writing of this book.
~*~
And to my maternal great-grandmother,
Carmela Calandro Formichelli,
who was also a midwife.
The heroine of this book is fashioned after Carmela, who carried a gun, the same depicted in this novel, due to a similar “Gipsy” incident, which is also mentioned.
~*~
And I’d like to thank my cousin,
Marylou Formichelli Jaeger,
for all her help in supplying the correct information concerning the make and model of the gun
my great-grandmother actually carried.
~*~
Also, a heartfelt thanks to my editor, Allison Byers,
who continues to make me shine as a writer.
Having her in my corner has been a major blessing.
There comes a time, in spite of protocol’s voice, whereby a woman must listen to the calling of her own heart…and follow it!
Prologue
Eagle’s Landing, Arizona, January 1996
The weather was cooperating with the Sunday event, as it turned out to be an exceptionally pleasant Arizona winter day. In fact, it was the nicest Cassia Rose had seen in a while during this season. She smiled, thinking how the beautiful afternoon, of this 14th day of January, fit right in with the town’s plans to celebrate its one-hundredth year…and her birthday.
Cassia snuggled comfortably in the back seat of a shiny, black limo the mayor, one of her many great-nephews, had sent to pick her up. She straightened the collar of her new, blue tweed coat and gave her twenty-five-year-old great granddaughter’s hand an affectionate pat. “Can you believe the fuss they’re making over me?”
Amanda smiled, her sapphire blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “I think it’s wonderful. After all, Granny, you were the first child to be born in this town.”
“Actually, my nephew, Ethan Soaring Eagle, was the first. He was born in November of the previous year…exactly two months before me.” She shrugged. “But as the story was always told to me, the legality of the town’s standing wasn’t officially registered until a few weeks before I arrived.” She frowned. “I always thought it was terribly unfair to Ethan, especially since my half-brother, Gabriel Golden Eagle, was the town’s founder.”
“And a chief, since your mother was first married to an Apache before the Reverend Holmes,” Amanda added, raising her dimpled chin proudly.
Cassia chuckled. “You know the story as well as I do, child.” She cast a sideways glance at the beautiful, pale-haired, young woman sitting beside her. “You’re named after her…my beautiful, precious mother. And you pose a striking resemblance as well, right down to the sapphire blue of your eyes.”
Amanda gazed out the window. “It always brings a flutter to my heart, when I think of her once walking about the same grounds I have all of my life. Though they appeared much different than they do today.”
Cassia nodded. “And only fifty-seven acres made up the townshi
p’s grounds at that time.”
“I’ve also always admired your mother’s tenacity,” Amanda added.
She arched a brow. “Mother’s willfulness did not always please my father.”
“Still and all,” Amanda began, keeping her eyes on the passing scenes. “I admire her strength to listen to her heart’s calling and follow it during a time when women weren’t allowed the freedom to make their own decisions.”
She followed her great-granddaughter’s gaze, watching the streets fly by, as the limo made its way to the town’s arena—flashes of the sun’s ray reflecting now and then off a store window, or the shiny chrome of a high-rise. So much had changed since she was a girl. And yet at times it seemed the same.
“Sometimes I can still picture my mother taking her strolls. Or my father unlocking the chapel doors each morning in case someone needed its sanctuary for prayer.” She sighed. “I can picture them all: the expressions upon their faces, the sound of their laughs, and the pitch of their voices. The way Mr. Washburn raised a brow, the way Mrs. Granger scolded her children, or the music at the ice cream socials.” She tapped her right temple with a forefinger. “It is all stored here inside my head, the scenes playing out like a moving picture show behind my eyes.”
Amanda smiled, her full lips spreading over even white teeth. “You’ve had so many adventures, Granny.”
She sighed again. “Ah, yes—there were quite a number of them, as it was a time when many milestones were made—innovations and inventions…the quest to make life easier.” She gave her great-granddaughter’s hand an affectionate pat. “Nothing like the technology we have today, mind you. But then—then we thought we’d reached our peak—never realizing all the things yet to come for us to learn.” She chuckled lightly, shaking her head at her youthful tenacity. “I thought I knew so much back then, so sure I had it all under control. After all, I had studied midwifery in England. I remember clearly the day I returned.” She paused and added, “Sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday.”
Chapter One
Arizona, April 1919
Cassia Rose Holmes literally felt every weary bone and aching muscle in her body. Such an exhausting condition was the result of wayfaring throughout the night, a circumstance she’d hoped to avoid but wasn’t spared. Traveling alone, something her family frowned upon, was tedious enough…traveling all night made it even worse. But she couldn’t wait any longer for an available escort. She missed her homeland. She’d been gone eight long years, two years more than planned due to the outbreak of the First World War—or The Great War, as it was often called—the summer of 1914, three years after she arrived in England.
Cassia had been visiting a half-sister, Sunny Cavendish, and her family living in Brighton, England. It was bittersweet—sad to leave the many nieces, nephews, parties, and spectacular events taking place at Bentwood’s Bentley Manor―yet glad to return home to Eagle’s Landing where her parents resided.
She had spent most of her stay in London with her father’s sister, Marrietta Cavendish. Cavensworth, the family’s estate, was her home away from home while she attended The Royal Collage of Nursing for three years, developing her education into midwifery services and nursing.
However, the last five years were spent working in camps and clinics, caring for the British soldiers returning from the war and other war victims. Due to starvation and an epidemic of typhus, thousands immigrated to England from other war-torn countries. The sights she’d seen no one should have to be subjected too, all the pain and suffering, the blood, disease, and human desperation. The men returning from the war couldn’t find jobs and begged on the streets for whatever handouts came their way. They congregated in the alley ways between the London buildings, picked fights with passersby, and even at times went so far as to accost women—compromising virtues. No woman walking alone, day or night on London’s streets, was safe.
Those who secured employment couldn’t keep a job for very long because they suffered from something called shell shock which had them reliving the horrors of war. In a strange sense, she also was a victim. After a long day of caring for the sick and maimed, seeing all the death, watching minds decay, she was somewhat shell shocked too. She was not without her own nightmares, waking with a start, her heart racing and her nightwear soaked with perspiration. But her time in those clinics prepared her for just about everything in the medical field there was to come. So the thought of tending to womenfolk’s issues and childbirth was a welcome change.
Auntie Marietta, now widowed, cried when Cassia left for Brighton. It broke her heart to leave the elderly woman after they’d spent such a long time enjoying each other’s company. But her time in London ended, as well as the last holiday she would have at Brighton’s shores, feeling the beach sand sift between her toes and the ocean waters swish against her ankles, before she’d be made to buckle down at her medical training and join Dr. O’Clarity’s practice at Eagle’s Landing.
As long as Cassia could remember, she wanted to help others—especially women. As soon as she turned thirteen, she assisted the town’s Apache Shaman, Owl Woman, and Dr. Sean O’Clarity birth the many babies born at Eagle’s Landing and surrounding counties. She learned a lot from the pair, as well as from her mother’s dear friend, Rowena Cooper, an herbalist who had a garden stocked with nature’s cures. Rowena’s Calendula or Pot Marigold plant saved Cassia’s father’s life after a gunshot wound.
With Owl Woman’s passing and Dr. O’Clarity getting on in years, her services were needed. She would also work with Rowena’s daughter, Clara Morris, who had taken over most of the herb garden’s daily care from her mother. And she couldn’t be more excited over the opportunity to put her midwifery education to good use. The only regret she had was she would not be working with Tucker, Doctor O’Clarity’s youngest son.
As children, they’d been close friends, even though Tucker was almost two years older. At first she was like a little sister, and he’d look out for her. But as she grew, they’d fish in the creek, pick berries, plus save and care for injured animals. They laughed at the same things, confided in each other, and shared secrets. They also shared the same hope—to ease folks’ pain and suffering.
She was fourteen when Tucker left to attend medical school in Boston, joining his brother Brodie who had already been there for two years. The night before his departure, they pledged their hearts to one another, sealing the agreement with a kiss…their first and one Cassia would never forget. Thoughts of working side by side as husband and wife to serve their town with quality medical care was something they had promised each other they’d accomplish…until Tucker decided medical college wasn’t right for him, and he joined the railroad.
Tucker wrote her, releasing her from their secret vows, chalking them up to childish dreams with no real regard for a future. And just like that, he was free to take the path he’d newly mapped out for himself.
She sighed; thoughts of living minus Tucker, always brought a pain to her heart. And the only thing that helped push that pain aside was her goal to become the best in her field, help women during childbirth, and share all the safe, modern day medicine she’d learned.
The train’s conductor called out, “Five minutes to Willow Creek.”
Cassia reached for her hat lying on the seat beside her. This would be her stop, anticipation welling up within her at seeing her family. She combed her fingers through her hair. The short, sassy golden curls bounced against her cheeks. It was all the fashion now—hair bobbed to chin length and bangs lying straight across the forehead. Of course, Cassie’s hair curled around her face. The thick, short locks seemed to stray this way and that, but nevertheless, she was fashionable. How would her father react when he saw her waist-length curls gone? Frowning, she placed her hat atop her head and hoped he’d be so happy to have her home that he wouldn’t scold overly much at her new appearance.
Reverend Joshua Holmes was a strict parent to a degree, but loving and kind as well. He never rais
ed a hand to her, nor did her mother. When Cassia misbehaved, her punishment was doled out differently—in the form of chores or privileges taken away, instead of the spankings many of her peers endured.
Mary McCrea’s parents weren’t too bad, although Mary and her siblings got what was coming to them when they misbehaved. Mary was a bit older than Cassia and Nora Granger a bit younger. The three of them got into scrapes and antics that would try any parent’s patience. Nora, however, was punished the worst of the three.
“Poor Nora Granger,” she whispered, thinking of her best and dearest friend. Nora was the oldest of the seven children of Maggie and Eli Granger. Daily, Nora kept her siblings in line for a few hours after school, until Maggie closed her general store. And if she failed at the task, Nora promptly got her backside tanned when Maggie arrived home.
Now Nora Granger was Nora Dodd. A year ago she was married to Cameron Dodd who worked at his father’s modest firm as a law clerk, hoping to become a lawyer and take over the family business. The letters Cassia received from Nora painted a heartwarming story of her love for Cameron. She regretted missing Nora’s important and special day. But sad as she was to miss her friend’s nuptials, Cassia would share another important and special day with Nora, due at any time to give birth. Her child would be a first on two levels…for Nora as a parent and for Cassia as the town’s licensed midwife.
In some ways she envied Nora, the blessing of discovering true love and being able to go through life with a deeply caring man. To have a home and a family with that special someone, and to grow old together, like her parents, was something Cassia had hoped for herself. She believed since she was a young girl, that she’d have the same with Tucker O’Clarity.
“I couldn’t have been more wrong,” she whispered.
Her mother’s words echoed in her thoughts. “You’re still so young, my darling—beautiful, intelligent, and caring. Do you truly believe Tucker O’Clarity will be the only man you’ll ever love?”
A resounding yes echoed in response. Tucker knew her hopes and dreams, shared her likes and dislikes, was her best friend. How wonderful is it to be in love with your best friend?