Winter Crossing
Page 1
WINTER CROSSING
Written by James E. Ferrell
Edited by Kathryn H. Clair
Cover design by Jen Remington
Published by
Grey Ghost Publisher
19431 Highway 30 #36, Shiro, Texas 77876
©2019 James E. Ferrell. All rights reserved.
First publication by Grey Ghost Publisher,
19431 Highway 30 #36, Shiro, Texas 77876
Distributed by Smashwords
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ferrell, James E., author. | Clair, Kathryn H., editor.
Title: Winter crossing / written by James E. Ferrell ; edited by Kathryn H. Clair.
Description: Shiro, TX: Grey Ghost Publisher, 2020.
Identifiers: LCCN: 2020909678 | ISBN 978-1-950763-13-9 (Hardcover) | 978-1-950763-12-2 (pbk.) | 978-1-950763-14-6 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH Colorado Territory--History--Fiction. | Indians of North America--Great Plains--Fiction. | Northwest, Pacific--History--19th century--Fiction. | Love stories. | Christian fiction. | Western stories. | Historical fiction. | BISAC FICTION / Christian / Western | FICTION / Christian / Romance / Historical | FICTION / Women
Classification: PS3606.E745 W56 2020 | DDC 813.6--dc23
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Table of Contents
Introduction
C1 Against the Wall
C2 Cutthroat Creek
C3 Get as Far as You Can
C4 Learning to Keep on Going
C5 A Time to Adapt
C6 Spring and New Birth
C7 Not a Place to Visit
C8 Evil is Right Down the Mountain
C9 A Ghost of a Chance
C10 Faith in a Solid Rock
C11 Safe Haven
C12 Things Were Looking Up –For a While
C13 Marriage Day
C14 Almost Free
C15 Long Way Back
C16 The Spiders Web
C17 Another Way to Get Along
C18 A Yarn Worth the Tellin’
C19 Slow Moving Train
C20 A Determined People
C21 A Long Way to Travel
C22 A Wild Country
C23 A Winter Ride
C24 A Wild Ride
C25 Worry and Despair
C26 A Worried Mind
C27 A Bitter Cold
C28 Distance Cut Short
List of Fictional Characters
Previews
Acknowledgment
About the Author
Also By James E Ferrell
Introduction
Tillie Bonner, a petite lovely young woman, had two loves in her life. A son, Danny, who was a kind-hearted boy any mother would love. Then there was Mary, headstrong with a free spirit at the age of six. Caught between two forces that targeted the impressionable children, Tillie knew her influence had to be a constant in both of her children’s lives. Her plans for them would all go up in smoke if the wealthy and powerful grandmother, Mira Bonner, could get charge of them. The impact of two rough mountain men suddenly interjected in Tillie’s life changed everything.
Elam Franklin lost his mother when he was just a young boy and everything he knew was self-taught. He could live off the land, but he had no formal education about books or social proprieties.
Nolan Tolivar rode the mountain trails carrying a heart full of grief. His lonely existence was void of purpose until faced with someone else’s burden laid at his feet. He had no other option but to deal with these burdens. Considering the circumstances, Nolan knew this was his cross to bear.
C1 Against the Wall
A brisk wind rattled windowpanes sending a warning of a cold winter approaching the Colorado mountain range. Along the mountain passes, snow would soon dampen wandering spirits until early spring. Sheriff Pete Bailey eased his heavy frame down on the cell bed, making sure he didn’t spill the hot coffee he held in his hand. Through the cell window above Pete’s head, the morning sun outlined the man lying on the opposite bunk. Pete blew the hot steam from his coffee and studied the man across from him.
Elam Franklin lay with his forearm over his eyes, blocking the intense sunshine that made his head swim. Raising his head from the jailhouse pillow, Elam slowly lay it back down again. Here he was once again in the Buckley jail. Of all places, this was the worst possible. Changing positions, he knew without opening his eyes, Sheriff Bailey was sitting there waiting for him to get his wits about himself.
“Sheriff Bailey, I did it again. I really didn’t tend to stay in your town any longer than it would take me to git supplies up. In and out wuz my plan, but I decided while the store keep wuz a-fillin’ my pack, I would jest step in the saloon next door for a small one--mind you, jest a small one. Warn’t plannin’ on a-gittin’ drunk and startin’ a ruckus. I knowed them fellers in the saloon and they knowed me from my last trip through. It seems them boys hold a grudge. I guess there ain’t nothin’ I can be a-sayin',” Elam said.
Pete sighed and sat quietly, watching the oversized kid lying on the bunk, shading his eyes. He looked down into his coffee cup as if he was observing something in the black coffee through the vapor. “You know, boy, when I left Tennessee, I figured I was leaving the last of the foolish acting men and women behind me. I was looking for a better place to live among men and women that went about their daily lives trying to do the right thing. Back in Tennessee, I watched you grow up and knew your mother and brothers well. They were mighty fine, hardworking people. I know all about the trouble your daddy caused the family. You now have turned out even worse than your daddy ever was. He was a bad father, but Elam, you are a sorry lot! You have no education. You can’t even read and write! Your family could have helped you learn if you wanted to, but you just didn’t. You always preferred to take to the woods instead of the schoolhouse. You are all grown up and should have put away that foolishness by now. You are going back into the wilderness, so you will be right at home with the savages that have no learning. I guess that makes you feel all right about yourself. Your family was dear to me, but you are on your way to becoming a sot drunk. Given a few more years, that will come to fruition and you’re doing nothing to stop it,” the sheriff said.
Elam lay still with his eyes covered, not wanting to see the face of the man scolding him so harshly. ‘Sheriff, I kinda do believe thar war more than me in here last time. Warn’t all my fault! I’m shore ‘nough sorry I came back through your town. It’s just that it be the shortest way to git back in the wilderness,” Elam said.
The sheriff responded, “I never thought I would see you again, but here you are a year later. You’re an even bigger bully that always seems to find trouble. I walked in the saloon and there you were fighting with the same bunch of drunks you lit into the last time you came through here. I didn’t see no sense in locking up that bunch because they haven’t given me trouble for a long time. I don’t know why I care, but I do. So, I’m going to try and give you some encouragement. It didn’t work last time, but maybe being a year older, you will decide to grow up all at once.”
Elam sat up on the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes. “Sheriff, what thar be on your mind?” he asked.
“Do you remember the big fellow that was my deputy last time you were through here?” asked the sheriff.
“I reckon I do! Your deputy Morgan sat
thar in front of my cell and read me from the Good Book. He said I wuz his divine appointment and gave me a-talkin' like I wuz his little brother. He rooted himself down in my conscience what he said shore did nag at me for a long time after I left,” Elam said.
“John Morgan is one of the finest men I ever had dealings with. While he was here, he got me to looking at my own self and I made a lot of changes because of him. John left not long before you headed up the trail over the mountain. Said he had himself a homestead up that way and was a-hankering to get back there,” Pete said.
“Pardon myself, Sheriff, but what does this John Morgan feller have to do with me?” Elam asked.
“John Morgan left me with something I was supposed to give you before you left last year, but I couldn’t bring myself to doing what he asked. It was to me like casting pearls to swine if you know what I mean. I just hung on to it,” the sheriff said.
“Well, sheriff, I don’t know what you mean, ‘castin’ pearls to swine.’ Iffin’ you don’t mind how about you a-figurin’ what I owe you and I will be on my way. I promise I am a-goin’ to make my momma proud and learn to read and write. I won’t be a-comin’ back through here less I know how!” Elam exclaimed.
“Elam, there is more to it than just learning. With learning comes a big responsibility to reach out and do something with yourself,” the sheriff said.
“Okay, Pete! Just what is it I’m supposed to git from Morgan?” Elam asked.
Pete Bailey frowned and walked into his office. In a few minutes, he reappeared, holding a black package. Mumbling to himself, he said under his breath, ‘I still say this is a waste of a precious jewel putting this in Elam Franklin’s hands.’ Clearing his throat, Pete looked at the man sitting in the cell and said, “Elam, against my better judgment, I’m going to give this to you. It should be in a fine palace under a glass cover so all that know its true worth could come and see it and people like you couldn’t touch it.”
Elam looked at the fine leather-bound book that Pete had unwrapped and lay before him. “Pete--it’s a book. Mighty fancy lookin’ with all them gold letters on the front, but it’s a book like Momma had a-sittin’ on her table back home,” Elam said.
“No, boy! This book has in it the same words as that old Bible laying on your momma’s table, but it’s not the same,” Pete said.
“Iffin them both has the same words what reason you say thissin’ is different?” Elam asked.
“This, boy, is the reason that the lower class of England who lived two hundred years ago, learned to speak the English language. They could communicate at your level like most of the people around here, but with this Holy Book, they learned to speak proper English. Some learned to speak it just as eloquently as the most learned English-speaking men throughout the world. This, Elam, is a 1611 King James Bible original. I don’t know how John got ahold of this treasure or why he would consider putting it in your hands, but he did. His old family Bible he took with him would have been good enough for the likes of you.”
“Well, it's prettier, but I don’t see no difference--,” Elam started to say.
Pete interjected, “No, you wouldn’t! Let me tell you. You plan on learning to read and write to make your momma proud. God rest her soul! If you learn to read by reading this book, you will be respected and honored as a wise and learned man by all who hear you speak. It will enhance your vocabulary and open up your mind to the wisdom of our Creator. It will expand your intellectual relationship that will guide you into life hereafter.
C2 Cutthroat Creek
The dusk of evening fell across the mountain range leaving those along the streets scurrying to their homes among the small town. Along the boardwalk, lights cast shadows of those passing. Pulling her shawl up around her chin Hannah Wilson stepped up on the porch of a small framed house. Sighing deeply, she knocked on the door and looked around suspiciously.
“Tillie, we need to talk," was all Hannah could say as a pretty young woman opened the door. “Maybe I should not have come, but things have been said that you need to know,” she said.
“Alright, come in. Tell me everything that you have heard,” Tillie said.
“Maybe, I should not have come,” Hannah Wilson said again.
“Hannah, I know it took courage coming here. Now you have to let me know what I’m facing,” Tillie Bonner said.
Hannah continued, “Tillie, I am sorry to bother you at a time like this, but I just couldn’t stand by while they did this to you.”
“Go on,” Tillie said.
“I went to work early this morning before Judge Hayes came in. I’m not usually that early, but today I was. The judge’s chamber was empty, so I decided to dust. The old judge sneezes up a storm if I dust while he’s there. I had gone into the back room to get my duster when the three of them came in. I heard the door to the judge’s chambers open. Then I heard Mira Bonner begin speaking rather loudly. Her voice is so piercing! I decided I’d better be quiet and stay put. The three moved into the room and I eased back in the linen closet. Through a crack in the door, I saw Mira’s face. It was hard and twisted, as usual,” Hannah said.
Hannah relayed what she had heard. ‘Judge Hayes, I expect you to follow my instructions to the letter. Hear me good; if you don’t, I will get myself another judge and don’t think I won’t!’ Mira said.
‘Mira, you can’t just slander someone like Tillie! Every decent person in this town will be up in arms,’ the sheriff said.
‘RD, I can do as I please. The two of you will do well to remember where your high living is coming from!’ Mira hissed.
Mira leveled a gaze at the small sheriff, and he began to squirm. ‘Sheriff, get hold of Dean French and tell him just what I told you to say and remind him nothing else will be necessarily said. That low life will screw it up if he is left to his own imagination!” she said with a huff.’
Hannah shifted nervously from foot to foot before she started again. “Mira told the judge what she expected of him, and if he didn’t deliver, she would get rid of him. Mira told that weasel of a sheriff the same thing. She told him to get that no count womanizer Dean French to do the dirty work and pay him for his trouble. Once it was over, the sheriff was to advise French to leave town and never come back if he knew what was good for him,” she said.
“No one would believe that I would have anything to do with the likes of French,” Tillie said.
“Miss Tillie, the women in this town envy your beauty and don’t think they wouldn’t wag their tongues!” Hannah stated firmly.
“What else did Mira say?” Tillie asked.
“She told them that she would wait a decent time after the funeral to mourn her loss, but not too long, so folks would still be shocked over the reason for Phil’s death,” Hannah stated.
“Why would anyone believe anything Mira says? Everyone knows the judge and her lawyer was behind the way she treated Uncle Buck,” Tillie said as she paced the room, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Tillie quietly looked into the bedroom where her children slept as she thought over what she had heard. “Hannah, on your way home, I want you to find Uncle Buck.”
“Ma’am, it’s awfully late,” Hannah said pitifully.
“Hannah, this can’t wait until tomorrow. You should find Buck in his room behind the school. Go to him tonight and tell him what you have just told me. Tell him I said it is worse than we ever dreamed and we must hurry. Can you do that for me?” Tillie asked.
“Alright, Tillie, I guess I don’t mind. You are a fine lady, and I count you as my closest friend,” Hannah said.
“Hannah, you must not talk of this to anyone, ever! If you do, that vengeful woman will make your life miserable. If Mira finds out you were in the judge’s chamber, neither you nor your husband will be able to find work here in Hunter. I need time to think this out. Keep quiet about this! Now hurry along and find Buck Bonner,” Tillie said.
Leaving the small house, Hannah Wilson hurried down the back streets of Hunter, Colo
rado. It was shift-change at the mill. Workers from the mill made their way to their homes. Hunter sat on the east side of Colorado, surrounded by a mountain range whose peaks disappeared through the clouds. Summer was almost gone, and the community was preparing for a long and cold winter. Stacks of firewood covered the sides of houses, as well as every available barn. It was a scenic town from any direction you looked.
The following morning, while a chill was still in the air, Tillie Bonner stood in the center of Hunter Graveyard. Her children, Mary and Danny, formed a close little band around their mother. Her late husband, Phil Bonner, lay in the freshly dug grave at her feet. A host of friends and neighbors stood about the graveyard. Emotionally numb, Tillie heard little of what was said by the lanky preacher in the long black coat.
Grandmother Bonner dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. She had a stern, cross look on her face when she said, “Tillie, I think you should consider what I asked you earlier.”
“Grandmother, I will tell you for the last time my children will be living with me. You will not mention it again,” Tillie stated emphatically.
“Tillie, you can’t take care of these children, and I can make sure they never need anything. Why the whole bunch of you might just starve to death! What will you do for money?” Mira asked.
Tillie stated with finality, “We will get along, so quit your worrying!” She quickly turned from the scene and moved out of the cemetery holding tightly to the hands of her children.
“Wait up a moment, Tillie,” a woman said as she hurried from a group of women as Tillie walked through the cemetery gate. “Tillie dear, we women of Hunter would like to assure you of our support during these trying times. Why don’t you let Mary come home with me? She is always welcome to stay with my Susan anytime you need a little break.”
“Thanks, Ethyl, but not tonight. We need some time alone,” Tillie said.
Ethyl Groggins quickly replied, “I know you do, dear. Just remember you can count on the ladies here in Hunter. Don’t pay no mind to Mira. She is just hurt and don’t know what she is saying.”