Bone & Loraine

by Ken Farmer

  BONE &

  LORAINE

  by

  KEN FARMER

  Cover by: K.R. Farmer

  Art Work: Adriana Girolami

  Cover Model: Vivian Jimenez Hall

  FOREWARD

  by

  Marshall R. Teague - Veteran Actor, Ret. Navy, former Deputy Sheriff

  When I was a child. I dreamed of being a Cowboy in the old West. I read every book and watched every TV show that had my Western Hero’s atop their mighty steeds, all of which had Great names like Champion, Trigger, Dollor, Topper, Tony, and Black Jack.

  Today, having done Eighteen Western Films and Television shows, many of which were taken right out of the pages of Western writers of high acclaim. Writers like Louis L’Amour, Terry C. Johnston, Zane Gray and Ken Farmer, who have kept the Western lore very much alive now and for Generations to come.

  Novelist, Ken Farmer, whose books I have become obsessed with, captures every element which draws the reader back in time and places them at the same camp fire alongside the many colorful characters that you feel you have always known. Names like Flynn, Fiona, Bass, Bone, Loraine and Lucy, just to name a few you will become very familiar with.

  Don’t be surprised if, along the way, you pick up a touch of Shakespeare, History…past and present, along with what one might say…A Look at Our Future…Saddle Up, You’re in for A Hell of a Ride!

  Marshall & Lindy Teague

  ISBN-13: - 978-1-7329119-2-5

  ISBN-10: - 1-7329119-2-4

  Timber Creek Press

  Imprint of Timber Creek Productions, LLC

  312 N. Commerce St.

  Gainesville, Texas 76240

  Published by: Timber Creek Press

  timbercreekpresss@yahoo.com

  www.timbercreekpress.net

  Twitter: @pagact

  Facebook Book Page: www.facebook.com/TimberCreekPress

  Ken’s email: pagact@yahoo.com

  214-533-4964

  © Copyright 2019 by Timber Creek Press. All rights reserved.

  AUTHOR

  Ken Farmer didn’t write his first full novel until he was sixty-nine years of age. He often wonders what the hell took him so long. At age seventy-seven…he’s currently working on novel number twenty-five.

  Ken spent thirty years raising cattle and quarter horses in Texas and forty-five years as a professional actor (after a stint in the Marine Corps). Those years gave him a background for storytelling…or as he has been known to say, “I’ve always been a bit of a bull---t artist, so writing novels kind of came naturally once it occurred to me I could put my stories down on paper.”

  Ken’s writing style has been likened to a combination of Louis L’Amour and Terry C. Johnston with an occasional Hitchcockian twist…now that’s a combination.

  In addition to his love for writing fiction, he likes to teach acting, voice-over and writing workshops. His favorite expression is: “Just tell the damn story.”

  Writing has become Ken’s second life: he has been a Marine, played collegiate football, been a Texas wildcatter, cattle and horse rancher, professional film and TV actor and now…a novelist. Who knew?

  Ken Farmer’s dialogue flows like a beautiful western river…it’s the gold standard…Carole Beers

  Web page: www.KenFarmer-Author.net

  DEDICATION

  This tome, is book #14 in the award-winning, The Nations Series and #4 of the spin-off Bone Series and is dedicated to one of mywriting inspirations, my long time buddy, star of stage, screen and television…Alex Cord.

  Alex is also my visual inspiration for my character, Padrino, Bone’s Godfather.

  Alex told me once while I was writing my first book, ‘Kenny, you’ll never finish a book, you just have to walk away from it and start another. You can fiddle with it forever…just stop and move on.’ Best advice I’ve ever had. You can never make it perfect.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  The author gratefully acknowledges Lt. Colonel Clyde DeLoach, USMC (Ret.) and novelist Mary Deal for their invaluable help in proofing, beta reading and editing this novel.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or did not win it in an author/publisher contest, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form with out prior written permission from the author. This novel is a work of fiction…except the parts that aren’t. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and sometimes not. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental, except where they aren’t.

  TIMBER CREEK PRESS

  CONTENTS

  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

  EPILOGUE

  PREVIEW OF COMING ATTRACTIONS

  CHAPTER ONE

  OTHER NOVELS FROM TIMBER CREEK PRESS

  CHAPTER ONE

  SKEANS BOARDING HOUSE

  GAINESVILLE, TEXAS

  “What are you so nervous about, Bone?” asked Jack McGann.

  Bone tugged at his starched collar. “Never did this before, Marshal.”

  “Neither had I, ‘fore Angie an’ me got hitched.”

  “Where did they perform your ceremony?”

  “At Angie’s house up in the Arbuckles, where we live now,” said Jack. “But, I was more nervous about who was doin’ it.”

  “Who was that?” asked Bone.

  “The Judge…Judge Isaac Parker.”

  “Ooo, the Hanging Judge, see what you mean. Would have liked to met him. Heard he was a great man.”

  Marshal Lindsey nodded. “Passed away in ‘96, Brights disease…He could look right through you. Knowed when you were lyin’, too.”

  Jack chuckled. “One time, he was tryin’ this colored feller fer murder an’ they found him guilty. So, the Judge sentenced him to hang an’ the feller’s attorney jumped up an’ run up to protest to the Judge that the sentence was too harsh.” Jack looked around at the other guests. “Well, the Judge jest pointed his finger at the man…That attorney, he fell to the floor almost in a state of apoplexy an’ laid there till the Judge entered his chambers. Surprised he didn’t piss his pants…Judge Parker never said a word to ‘im…jest pointed his finger. You’d a thought he wuz God Almighty his self.”

  “Dang, that would have been a sight to see,” said Bone as he looked over at the archway covered with branches from a female juniper, loaded with cones of ripe purple berries, and a large sprig of mistletoe hung from the center.

  The area around the arch was permeated with the pleasant cedar smell from the juniper. It was placed in front of a number of wooden folding chairs with a center aisle between them.

  Bone and Loraine’s wedding was being held in Faye Skeans’ green winter rye grass covered large back yard surrounded by walls of shrubbery. It was the same place where Sheriff Mason Flynn and Deputy US Marshal Fiona Mae Miller, Bone’s gre
at grand parents, were married the previous spring and Walt Durbin and Frances Ann Sullivant were married two years before that.

  Doctor Winchester Ashalatubbi, also known by his Chickasaw tribal name of Anompoli Lawa—it means, He Who Talks to Many—was performing the ceremony in his capacity as a Doctor of Divinity, as he did for Mason and Fiona.

  His credentials as a Doctor of Divinity were in addition to his degree as a physician and his position as the Shaman, or spiritual leader, of the Chickasaw tribe.

  Jack has been know to say, ‘Winchester can birth you, marry you, doctor you and your spirit, and bury you’.

  Anompoli Lawa took his place in the center of the arch as Angie sang the wedding march to the accompaniment of Marshal Loss Hart on the fiddle. The doctor was dressed in a traditional beaded white doeskin war shirt of the Chickasaw Nation and held his worn, black leather covered Bible.

  Loraine stepped out of the back door of Faye’s three story, red brick, Queen Ann style house in a beautiful white satin gown, tight around her wasp waist with white ruffled Spanish lace around the top of her bodice and over her shoulders in a scoop-neck style. Jack and Angie’s adopted daughter, ten year old Aurali Red, carried the dress’s long train.

  Bone had taken his place in front of and to Doctor Ashalatubbi’s left. His knees almost buckled when he saw Loraine step out of the door.

  Her lustrous long black hair shined in the late afternoon sun on this bright and clear fall day, only slightly enhanced with a small amount of brilliantine. It was done up in a Newport coiffure with a spiral bun on top of a French twist, held by pins, two pearl combs and a tall pearl encrusted Spanish comb in the front. The rest of Loraine’s hair was in tight ring curls on both sides. It was pulled straight back from her forehead giving her a very aristocratic look. She was stunning.

  Mason, acting as Bone’s Best Man, leaned over to the big man. “Close your mouth, Bone, you’ll catch flies.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “But, I don’t blame you. Loraine could stop a war.”

  “Or start one,” added Bone.

  Loraine was being given away by the legendary Deputy US Marshal Bass Reeves, while Fiona Mae Flynn was her Matron of Honor.

  The chairs were filled with a number of people from Gainesville, Jacksboro and the Nations. They included, Deputy US Marshal Selden Lindsey, Angie and Deputy US Marshal Jack McGann, with Baby Sarah. Cooke County Sheriff Walt Durbin and his wife Frances, with their toddler. Lisanne Gifford, Buster Martin and Slim Parker were also on one side of the aisle.

  Texas Ranger Bodie Hickman, his wife Annabel and their twins, Bass and Cassie Ann, Mason’s sister, Mary Lou and her husband, Cletus Wilson along with their adopted daughter, the diminutive stranded alien, Lucy. Deputy Gomer Platt and his intended Emma Lou Burke, and Lollie Whitaker from the stage with Loraine and Bone, were also on the other, along with some of Faye’s friends and neighbors.

  They all were turned in their chairs watching Loraine, Bass and Aurali Red step stately down the aisle to the music. Loraine carried a bouquet of purple aster flowers with a yellow center—similar to a daisy.

  Loraine stopped in front of Anompoli Lawa, handed her flowers to Fiona and turned to face Bone.

  Doctor Ashalatubbi began, “We are gathered here today in the sight of God, and the presence of friends and loved ones, to celebrate one of life’s greatest moments. We are here to give recognition to the beauty of love that is shared between Bone and Loraine and as they complete their family in holy matrimony. Marriage is a contract not to be entered into lightly…”

  He finished the invocation, the prayer and the exchange of vows, with the ‘I do’s’, and then asked for the rings.

  “May we now have the rings?”

  Bodie and Annabel’s twins, Bass and Cassie had walked up behind Loraine and Bone with tiny satin pillows. There was a plain gold band in the center of each.

  “The ring, an unbroken circle, represents unending love. As often as either of you look upon these rings, may you be reminded of this moment and the love you have promised to one another. Darrell Ulysses Bone, please place this ring on Loraine’s finger and repeat your commitments.”

  Bone looked deep into her limpid brown eyes. “Loraine, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and that I’m choosing to share my life’s journey with you. I give you this ring with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, and always.”

  “Now, Loraine Maria Rodriguez, please place this ring on Bone’s finger and repeat your commitments.”

  “Bone, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and that I’m choosing to share my life’s journey with you I give you this ring with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, and always.”

  “Darrell and Loraine, I want to wish you both much love and happiness as you begin your new journey. Remember to keep lots of laughter in your life and love will never be far behind…”

  “No problem there,” muttered Loraine with a grin showing her perfect white teeth.

  Winchester smiled, then continued, “Now Darrell and Loraine, you have pledged your faith to each other in the company of your family and friends.

  “By the power vested in me by the State of Texas, I now pronounce you… husband and wife.

  “Darrell Bone, you may now kiss your beautiful bride…Family and friends, I am proud to present for the first time as husband and wife…Mr. and Mrs. Bone.”

  Bone had showed Jack McGann how to use his smart phone to take pictures and he was taking one after another.

  The six foot eight, Bone picked Loraine off the ground with his hands around her tiny waist, held her to him and kissed her, her feet dangling over a foot in the air. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, curling her left leg up.

  After a moment, Anompoli Lawa cleared his throat. Bone and Loraine broke their kiss, glanced at the venerable Shaman and both blushed. He set her down to the thunderous applause of the attendees.

  “What’s the matter, can’t ya’ll wait,” commented Mason with a chuckle as he slapped Bone on the back.

  The ladies all gathered around Loraine to give her a hug and well wishes while the men congratulated Bone. A stainless steel flask was soon produced and began making the rounds.

  Lollie Whitaker, who helped Bone tend to a wounded Loraine on the stage and at Doctor Mosiers office, also hugged Loraine’s neck and whispered in her ear, “See, I told you that you were both running from it, but, it was there and that you could run, but you couldn’t hide from it…forever. That love was going to hit you and Bone one day…and hit you hard.” She smiled.

  Loraine kissed her cheek. “I didn’t believe you, Lollie, but you were so right.” She glanced over at Bone with the men.

  Jack handed Bone his phone back and his stainless steel flask. “Took a bunch of pictures. That’s an interesting gadget.”

  Bone took the phone and then flask and looked at Jack. “Appreciate it, Marshal…This isn’t Cactus Wine, is it?”

  Jack looked puzzled. “Since I have no idee what that is…No…This is good old Kentuck sour mash.”

  “Whew, good thing…Tell you about Cactus Wine sometime,” Bone replied and turned the flask up.

  “You got me interested, Bone, what is it?” asked Jack.

  Bone grinned. “Tequila and peyote tea, bottled by the Souza family in Mexico.”

  Jack staggered back a step and grabbed his chest. “My God in Heaven.”

  You got that right,” replied Bone.

  Loraine walked over to Bone from talking with the ladies, jumped up, threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss, and then leaned back.

  “I can’t believe I’m now going to be called, ‘Missus Bone’…’Missus Bone, oh, my God…Who knew? Bone and Missus Bone…Guess it’s going to be like, Mr. and Mrs. North.”

  “Except we’re not amateur detectives, Missus Bone…we’re professionals.”

  “True, Mister Bone,” Loraine replied.

  “Ya’ll goin’ any place for you
r honeymoon?” asked Mason.

  “Bodie suggested San Antonio,” said Bone looking at Loraine.

  “I understand it’s an interestin’ place to relax, see the Alamo…an’…”

  “What are you talking about, mister?” asked Mason’s wife, Deputy US Marshal Fiona Flynn as she walked up.

  “Just said I heard that San Antonio was a good place to go for a honeymoon…dear.”

  “Uh-huh. Why haven’t we ever gone there?…Fact is, why haven’t we ever gone anywhere for a honeymoon?”

  “Uh…”

  “Say, why don’t ya’ll go down there with us? We’ll make it a double honeymoon.” Bone looked down at Loraine again.

  She smiled and nodded. “Some of my ancestors lived there.”

  “Dang, Bone, why didn’t I think of that?”

  Fiona’s steel-gray eyes drilled her husband. “I was thinking the exact same thing, Mister Flynn.”

  “Well, Missus Flynn, would you like to take our long delayed honeymoon to San Antonio?”

  She smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  “Ya’ll try to stay out of mischief, now,” cautioned Lucy, with a knowing smile.

  §§§

  CHAPTER TWO

  SKEANS BOARDING HOUSE

  GAINESVILLE, TEXAS

  The photographer set up the tripod for his Henry Clay Dry Plate camera in front of the group of wedding attendees. His assistant sprinkled an appropriate amount of flash powder in his tray.

  “All right, folks, on the count of three I want all of you to look at the camera and please don’t move until I tell you. The tray Billy is holding above his head will flash, lighting our picture.” He ducked under his black cover and made his final focus. “All right, now, One, Two, Three…Hold it.”

  He squeezed the rubber bulb in his hand, the flash powder exploded, sending a cloud of white smoke up into the overhanging limbs of the winter bare red oak above. “Keep holding…all right, you may relax…Think we got it.”