by Kit Morgan
“My knife,” Harrison interrupted.
“Um … I’ll let ya take it up with him,” Sam replied. “Anyways, we knew Pete planned on robbin’ Cyrus Van Cleet when we got to Oregon City. I figgered he decided to come back here and take his shot.”
Jack hurried into the cabin with a length of rope. “Can I tie him up?”
“Go ahead,” Duncan said. “But make sure you do it well. And … give my brother his knife back.”
“Oh. Uh, sorry, Harrison. I couldn’t find mine this morning’, and …” He sheathed the knife, took the sheath off his belt and handed it to Harrison.
Harrison took it gravely and hooked it on his own belt. “Next time, perhaps try asking?”
“I will,” Jack said and began trussing up Pete.
“Rob Cyrus?” Honoria asked. “What do you mean?”
Jack exchanged a frightened look with Sam, who shrugged. “He told us about some chest fulla gold Cyrus had,” Sam explained. “Wanted our help to swipe it.”
Jack’s eyes were on the knots he was tying. “Wanted us to do his dirty work for him, ya mean. But we didn’t – right, Sam?”
“Nah, we pretty much told him to shove it.”
Harrison snorted at the crudity, but Duncan wasn’t in a laughing mood. He got in Sam’s face. “Did you know about this?” He pointed at Honoria.
“No! I swear, we had no idea he was after Ma.”
Everyone froze. “What did you say?” Honoria whispered.
Sam looked at her as if he’d just blasphemed in church. “Um … I guess I said ‘Ma’?” He glanced sheepishly at Jack, who didn’t turn a hair.
Honoria’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Colin and Jefferson came through the door. “What’s happening?” Colin asked. “I just saw Jack tear in here with some rope – oh. Is that Mr. Smithers from the wagon train?”
Jefferson looked at Pete. “Sure is. Jack, you mind telling me why you’re tying him up?”
“He attacked Mother,” Harrison said.
“What?!”
“It’s true,” Jack said. “We came back lookin’ for ya to tell ya Smithers was sniffin’ ‘round, heard Ma scream and rushed in.”
Honoria looked at Jack, tears in her eyes, and covered her mouth with both hands.
Jefferson took one look at her and pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”
“Yes!” she said happily through her tears. “It is now.”
Jefferson glanced at her, then Jack, Sam and the rest of his sons. “Ohhh,” he said as revelation dawned. “Yeah, I think I understand.” He sighed and looked at all the boys again.
By this time Jack had finished his work – Pete Smithers’ wrists and ankles were tied together behind his back – and all five boys were lined up staring at Pete as if they’d captured a giant crocodile.
Jefferson shook his head. “You boys mind not waiting for another disaster to bring you together?”
“You mean all of us, don’t you?” Duncan said. He looked at Jack and Sam. “I think you’d better tell him what you told me. He’ll want to know.”
Jack hung his head and nodded. Sam sighed and told his father the whole story. When he finished, Jefferson was staring at the still-insensate Smithers, murder in his eyes.
“What do we do with him?” Colin asked, pointing at Pete.
That snapped Jefferson out of it. “Let’s figure that out later. Right now I’m just thankful none of you got hurt.” He looked at all of them. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to any of you. Thank you for saving your mother from this polecat.”
Sam smiled. “You’re welcome, Pa.”
Jefferson let go of Honoria, went to Jack and Sam and hugged them. When he let go he grabbed Harrison, squeezed a grunt out of him, then did the same with Colin and Duncan. “Looks like we gotta lot to be thankful for.”
“Thankful!” Harrison squeaked. “Thanksgiving! Mother, the pie!”
“Oh no!” She hurried to the oven and released a black cloud. “Oh bother …”
Jefferson and the others fled the cabin for some fresh air. Honoria emerged a minute later, a well-charred apple pie held at arm’s length to get it out of the house. “Oh dear,” she coughed. “At least it was only the one.”
“Well, now that we have an extra guest for Thanksgiving, I think we should let him have it,” Colin suggested.
“Shouldn’t someone bring Mr. Smithers out?” Harrison asked. The five young men glanced at each other, shook their heads and laughed.
Jefferson put an arm around his wife. “Well, another successful rescue.” He kissed her on the nose. “But I’ll say it again – let’s not make a habit of this.”
She smiled and hugged him with her free arm. “But we’re family. It’s what we do.” She glanced at the boys.
Duncan took pity on Smithers – now awake and none too happy – and dragged him out of the cabin. Sam took pity on Honoria, took the pie and set it on a flat rock about ten feet away to burn itself out. And Jefferson just looked into Honoria’s eyes. “Yes, we’re family. It may not seem like it sometimes, but come thick or thin, that’s what we are.”
Thanksgiving Day …
Cyrus stood, glass in hand, and looked at everyone gathered around the long table, made from planks set atop a half-dozen sawhorses. “A toast – to all of us in this grand adventure of ours. May we be blessed with good health, long life and lasting friendships.”
Everyone lifted their glasses. That they held only water didn’t dampen the celebration in the least. They drank, set down their drinks and looked expectantly for Cyrus to continue.
Cyrus sat, clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we’ve traveled together many miles, through dangers, through good weather and bad, and dealt with many things. But without You, things could have been much worse. Thank You for bringing us this far. May we endeavor to serve You in this new land. Thank You for this food, Lord – may You bless it to our bodies and us to Your service. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone echoed and raised their heads.
Honoria looked at her family scattered around the table and smiled, happy that despite the strife of the last few weeks, Jack and Sam were coming around. Sam especially had kept his real feelings hidden until the incident with Pete Smithers pulled them out. Speaking of Pete, he was trussed to a chair, which in turn was secured to one end of the table. One of his hands was free so he could eat, but nothing else was – there was no way on Heaven or Earth he could free himself. And Irene Dunnigan, sitting next to him with her trusty ladle, would make sure he didn’t try.
“Happy?” Jefferson whispered in her ear.
“Very.” She looked at him. “Everything straightened out with Mr. Smithers?”
“Oh yeah. Once we got him talking, he wouldn’t shut up.”
“How did you get him to talk?”
Jefferson smiled. “We threatened to let Irene and her hatchet take care of him.”
Honoria laughed. “Oh my.”
Jefferson shrugged. “Seems he was causing all sorts of trouble along the trail, only some of it aimed at us. But Herr Mueller tells me that a patrol from Fort Boise comes through checking for stranded settlers. They should be here within a week, and we can turn Smithers over to them. In the meantime, he’s ours to deal with.”
“Oh, Jefferson, what will you and the men do?”
“I’m happy just to let the men at the fort decide his punishment. Trust me, he’ll get plenty.” He gazed into her eyes. “I’m thankful he didn’t get away with what he planned.”
“So am I.” She looked at their boys. “But he did manage to do one good thing.”
Jefferson glanced at Harrison and Jack arguing over the mashed potatoes. “Yes, he did.” He smiled at her. “But I think things would’ve turned out just fine even if Pete didn’t push it along.”
She smiled too. “I agree.”
“So are we a family now?” he asked as he took a platter
of meat from Paddy Mulligan. He stabbed a piece, put it on his plate, then did the same for Honoria.
“I dare say we are – and have been for quite some time.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sometimes it’s just hard to see.”
He chuckled. “Behind all the squabbling and whatnot, yeah … the roots were forming.”
“A nice way of putting it. Now let’s pray those roots go deep.” Honoria watched the boys eat and converse with those around them. She smiled, took the bowl of potatoes from Paddy, and dished them both a portion. They did indeed have a lot to be thankful for. They all had each other.
Epilogue
August 1, 1850
And so, my darling Benedict, I say goodbye. Writing to you all these months has helped me, but it is not right to turn to you when I have Jefferson waiting to love me more each day. I know you are happy for me, that you rejoice in knowing Duncan, Colin and Harrison have found a man they can look up to and respect.
I am happy.
Honoria closed her diary and put her pen and ink away. She leaned back against a giant oak, the most impressive tree she had ever seen, and sighed in contentment.
Harrison approached, his hands on his hips as he watched Duncan try for at least the tenth time to teach Sam how to do a breaststroke in a deep pool of the nearby creek. “It’s like this.” Duncan demonstrated again, swimming across the pool and back. “See?”
“Do you think he’ll learn?” Harrison asked.
“Eventually,” Honoria replied. “He just needs practice. So does Jack.”
Harrison glanced up the creek where Colin was standing in knee-high water next to Jack, demonstrating swim strokes. “I suppose it is hard to learn when one sinks straight to the bottom.”
She smiled ruefully. “Yes, it is.” So far that was all Jack and Sam had managed at each lesson. No wonder they were both nervous students.
She looked further up the creek, where Jefferson was fishing. He enjoyed this spot, as they all did. The creek was in a gorge near their farm, and since they were the only ones this far out of town, many of the settlers had automatically considered this Cooke land. Cyrus made it official when he filled out their land grant and sent it off.
“Are Cyrus and Polly coming to swim?” Harrison asked.
“Yes, dearest – they should be here any time now.” Honoria looked at the trail they’d cut through the trees and brush to reach the natural meadow below. It was a beautiful spot, and she wondered why Jefferson didn’t build a cabin down here. They couldn’t put their main house here, because there wasn’t room enough for crops. Still, their little spot was only a mile from home and she could walk here when she wanted some peace and solitude.
“Mother,” Harrison said.
“Yes, dearest?”
“How many times have you read your penny dreadfuls?”
She laughed and leaned once more against the massive tree, picking up one of the books in question. “I couldn’t say, I love them all so much. I do hope Mrs. Dunnigan can order some soon. Now that they have something of a mercantile built, we can start to get a few luxuries.”
Harrison smiled as his eyes drifted up the tree. “How old do you think this tree is?”
She gazed into the branches overhead. “Very old, dearest. Very old indeed.” She patted the massive trunk. “Of all the trees in this new land, I’d say this one is king, wouldn’t you?”
Harrison laughed. “Does that mean we should address it as His Majesty?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why, that’s a wonderful idea. From now on this beautiful oak shall be known as His Majesty.” She touched the tree a couple of times with a penny dreadful in the manner of a monarch knighting a subject, making him laugh again.
Jefferson strolled over, a string of fish in his hand. “Look, darlin’ – I got some good ones!”
She smiled as he approached. “Looks like a fine supper.”
He sat next to her, kissed her on the cheek and handed the string of fish to Harrison. “Yes, nice and fat. Enough for all of us.”
“Mother named the tree,” Harrison announced.
Jefferson arched an eyebrow and looked at his wife. “You did what?”
“Oh yes.” She looked up into the branches. “From now on this lovely tree is His Majesty. On account of its size, you see.”
“You have to admit, this is the biggest tree around,” Harrison added. “Shall I clean the fish?”
Jefferson nodded, watched him head for the creek and chuckled. “You and your naming, woman. Isn’t it enough you named the town?”
She thought a moment. “No. I shall keep on naming things. I have to be proficient at something besides being a wife and mother. It might as well be nomenclature.”
Jefferson laughed. “You know I didn’t think Cyrus and the others would agree to it, but he liked the name Clear Creek.” He looked at the deep, clear swimming hole. From the looks of it, Duncan was attempting to see how long Sam could hold his breath underwater. “They ain’t drowning each other, are they?” Jefferson asked with a hint of concern.
“Of course not, they’re fine.”
He leaned against the trunk and sighed. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
“About our boys.” He looked at her. “More specifically yours.”
“Oh?”
“I think maybe I’d like them to have my last name.”
Honoria sat up straighter. “Jefferson …”
“If they want to, that is.”
Her face brightened. “Jefferson Cooke, I think it’s a splendid idea.”
“Does this mean you’re gonna rename them too? Duncan, Colin and Harrison Cooke?”
She leaned over, kissed him and said, “Yes, I believe I shall.”
About the Series
Book One GONE TO TEXAS by Caryl McAdoo, full length
Book Two GATEWAY TO THE WEST by Susette Williams, novella
Book Three TRAIL TO CLEAR CREEK by Kit Morgan, full length
Book Four HEARTH AND HOME by Pauline Creeden, novella
Book Five NO TURNING BACK by Lynette Sowell, novella
Book Six DAUGHTER OF DEFIANCE by Heather Blanton, novella
Book Seven NUGGET NATE: MOYA’S THANKSGIVING PROPOSAL by George McVey, novella
Book Eight UNMISTAKABLY YOURS by Kristin Holt, full length
Book Nine ESTHER’S TEMPTATION by Lena Nelson Dooley, full length
Please enjoy reading what you’ll find in each story!
Gone to Texas
Deception drives seventeen souls to hard choices. Either stay on the land they thought they’d bought or heed the lure of free land in the faraway wilderness of a new Republic. Rife with peril and hardship, three families knit together by blood and friendship head out with a widowed man, daughter, and his slave, gambling everything they own on the prospect of land ownership and working it together. Does friendship pave a way to marriage? Can puppy-love survive through a harrowing journey to blossom into a forever lover? With duress at every turn, can the clan stay together all the way to Texas and accomplish their goals?
Gateway to the West
Coming to America was supposed to be a new adventure for Hayley Hunter and her husband, a chance for a fresh start in a new country. She never dreamed her journey would land her alone in a strange place with nobody she knew. Malcom Wheeler knows the hardships and heartbreak families face, but there’s usually safety in numbers, so he runs his own wagon train to try and help people determined to head out west. Taking the lady along rubs his better judgement; understanding her plight and being happy about it are two different things. Can Malcom help Hayley find comfort by restoring a part of her past when he finds her family’s journal? Is there hope for both of them to find a family of their own?
Trail to Clear Creek
Honoria Sayer’s husband dreamed of leaving England, going to America, and starting a cattle ranch. Unfortunately, he dies in the middle of seeing his dream fulfilled. This leaves h
is wife and three sons in a bit of a pickle. Honoria, being a resourceful woman, is determined to see her late husband’s dream fulfilled. Too bad she can’t journey with the wagon train her late husband had signed up with without being married. Rules are rules. Enter Jefferson Cooke, a recent widower with two sons in somewhat of the same bind. She needs a husband. He wants a wife. So the two strike a bargain and marry. But can two shattered hearts find love along the way to a new land? With five sons between them, can they ever become a family when they get there?
Heart and Home
When Caroline decided to go from Pennsylvania to the Montana Territory, two things convinced her to move—her husband, and those who needed a teacher in the small mining town. But when her husband died in an accident, only the children kept her in Helena for the past few years. With Thanksgiving coming, Caroline misses family and friends, but then the mayor hires an out-of-work miner to repair the schoolhouse, and she wonders if she can help fulfill others’ needs in the spirit of the season.
No Turning Back
Elizabeth “Lizzie” Westford is a determined young widow trying to manage her late husband’s Texas cattle ranch after he is killed by a bull. Then, an old boyhood friend of her husband arrives. Buford “Buck” Hannigan has always considered himself a wandering soul, with the call of the open wild more attractive than the idea of staying tied down. But the heart of the itinerant former gambler-turned-cowboy--and sometimes preacher--feels a tugging toward Lizzie that neither can deny and steps up to help the widow. After a quick wedding to prevent talk of impropriety, he learns one of Lizzie’s secrets, and the open road calls to him once again.
Daughter of Defiance
One betrayal after another had led Victoria down a dark path. And when you hit rock bottom, you have a choice: look up for help or live in the darkness. She chose the dark and became the most debauched madame in the West. She wore her reputation proudly like a mink stole--calculating, brutal, bitter, and vengeful. Then the opportunity presented itself to take revenge on an old lover. Inadvertently, her choice results in the death of dozens of innocent men—including the preacher who loved her. He’d told her of a savior, of unconditional love, of redemption, but how can Victoria accept grace now? The weight of her sins threatens to crush her heart, extinguish her hope. Is there anything or anyone who can convince her forgiveness is only a breath away?