Taking the High Road
Book 6: Nathaniel Yancey
Morris Fenris
Western Romance Publications House
Taking the High Road
Book 6: Nathaniel Yancey
Copyright 2015 Morris Fenris, Western Romance Publications House
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Table of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Thank You
About the Author
Book List
I
He hoped that here would be water.
A lake grand as the sky above, a mill pond, a fast-rushing river, even a slow-moving creek. Anyone growing up within sight and scent of the Edisto River, or St. Helena Sound, where Nathaniel had spent his boyhood, could never be long away from the seaboard’s siren call without feeling an actual physical ache for a return to it. Salt air mixed in with the oxygen in your lungs, and a current of life sweet as summer sorghum tried to supplant the blood in your veins.
The City of Charleston beckoned. Years absent from that grand and glorious shore, and the only home he had ever known now sold and gone, still Charleston beckoned. Come back, the appeal wafted across thousands of miles. Come back.
Contrasts abounded between the Low Country and the Midwest.
For the past seven years, fresh water running, not tidewater marsh, had filled his senses and soothed his lonely heart. The distant cry of osprey and Cooper’s hawk, from one Mississippi embankment to the other, corresponded to the kittiwake and sandpiper, plover and tern, of his native land.
The same variegated blue showed itself overhead here in St. Louis as it did in South Carolina, but with a much wider range of temperatures; and the great panoply of trees, similar to yet different from sweetbay and sassafras, presented an ever-changing picture, from tight little green buds in spring, to summer’s lavish display, to the gold and flame of autumn, to bare black branches as winter encroached.
His Missouri River locomotive chugged steadily along, while Nathaniel Yancey slouched down into his seat and mused over the past, the present, and the future.
“Are you going far?” asked a feminine voice from across the aisle.
Nathaniel started slightly. He had been dozing, during the last stop, and had paid no attention to disembarking or embarking passengers. Turning slightly sideways with a smile, he affirmed that he was, indeed, going far.
“All the way to Virginia City.”
“Virginia City?” The lady pouted her lips in thought.
A pretty lady, Nathaniel decided, dressed in the fashion of the day. Her hat of gray shantung was piled so high with multi-colored silk flowers, onto a brim so wide and sinuous, that she must have to tilt her head sideways for entrance through a doorway. The traveling suit was equally elaborate, made of matching gray shantung trimmed in flounces and black lace.
“Is that in California?”
Nathaniel chuckled. “Almost, ma’am. Not too far from the border, anyway, and Lake Tahoe. And you?”
“Oh—further,” she said vaguely, flapping one palm, as if destination were of no consequence. “To Sacramento, possibly. Or San Francisco. We’ll see what happens.”
Oh. Nathaniel raised one handsome black brow. A soldier of fortune, on the distaff side. He had not been so immured, these past years, as to be unaware of what lay beyond his ivied walls. His time there had, after all, prepared him to deal with both the known and the unknown, and anything in between. Such as an adventurer.
“Nathaniel Yancey,” he introduced himself, reaching out one lean hand for hers, covered over in black lace mitts.
“Reenie Howard, Mr. Yancey.” She preened a little, flashing a dimple his way, and resettled her monster hat.
Much as he was enjoying this unexpected interaction with another passenger, Reenie’s newfound companion was hard put not to offer a watering can for those incredible cabbage roses perched atop her head. Surely they must be feeling wilted by now.
“Such a charming accent, Mr. Yancey. From which part of the South do you hail?”
“Charleston, ma’am. The loveliest city ever built. Have you been there?”
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure. Quite historic, if I recall. Tell me, was there much damage sustained from the War?”
A young woman, and more forward than might be expected, especially traveling alone as she was. But clearly endowed with a classical and complete education. “I don’t really know, Miss Howard. Truth is, I haven’t been back there myself in too long a time.”
“Well, the photographs I’ve seen, of certain parts, speak well of restoration, if nothing else.”
“That’s good t’ hear. This country will have a hard time puttin’ itself back t’gether again, I’m afraid, after bein’ so torn apart.”
“Pardon me, but you really are the most attractive—Oh, my God!” she began on a purr and ended on a little squeak.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Nathaniel obediently, in agreement of her reaction.
For he had shifted position enough for her to view him, straight on, and to appreciate all she saw. The tumbled black hair with just a hint of curl, the straight black brows and incredibly long thick lashes that any female would envy, the dark brown eyes so steadfast and attentive, the sinfully handsome face, the tall loose-knit body quietly promising a wealth of might and muscle.
And the collar. A detachable white clerical collar.
“You’re a priest!”
Another chuckle. Nathaniel was nothing if not comfortable in his own skin. “No, Miss Howard. However, it’s true I am of the religious persuasion, havin’ just been ordained a minister of my faith.”
“And that would be—?”
“I’ve recently graduated from The Fold of the Faithful Seminary, in St. Louis.”
Reconsidering the man opposite, as the train chugged along over smooth track, Reenie inclined her head slightly sideways. “That must mean you’re taking on a church.”
“Yes, ma’am. I have been assigned to The Little Chapel in the Pines, at Virginia City. A rough and roarin’ minin’ town, so I’m told.”
“You’ve been told correctly,” said Reenie, simply and quietly.
“Ah. You’ve had some experience with the place?”
“Mr. Yancey—oh. I’m sorry. That would be Rev. Yancey, wouldn’t it? I’ve had experience with many places. Too many to count. But there’s always another, around the bend.”
A note of wistfulness hung quivering in the air with her last words. Surprised, Nathaniel studied his fellow passenger. Would this be his first opportunity to listen, to counsel, to offer encouragement and advice for whatever uncertainty might be going on in her life?
“I’m sorry if things have not turned out quite as you expected, Miss Howard. Sounds like you’ve gone throu
gh some hard times.”
“We’ve all done that, haven’t we?” she answered vaguely. Then, as if putting that thought away, Reenie smiled and went on, “And what have you waiting for you in Virginia City, Reverend? A congregation as rough and roaring as the town itself?”
He chuckled. “That may very well be. I don’t know what to expect of the congregation, Miss Howard, but I have been promised a parsonage and a housekeeper. And some peace and quiet.”
Again that slight cant of the head, as if the weight of the flowers could be held upright only so long before strength gave way. “Look at you, all set for adventure. And you’re seeking peace and quiet? Unusual, to say the least.”
“You wouldn’t think so, if you’d known my upbringin’. Nine brothers, Miss Howard, and every last one of ’em a rapscallion bent on mischief and mayhem.”
“Except you, I’m sure,” she tittered.
The locomotive clacked and clattered its way around a bend in the track and up an incline, causing both Nathaniel and Reenie, and every other passenger on board, to hang on for support. Extra coal had been stoked into the boiler, and a cloud of black ash and cinder blew backward to leak in through the car. Coughs. Handkerchiefs. Bandannas. More coughs.
“One of the perils of train travel,” observed Nathaniel, once the air had cleared. “No, Miss Howard, I was just as bad as my brothers. Led my mama a helluva life.”
Reenie’s lovely gray eyes rounded. “Reverend. I am aghast. You just used a cuss word.”
He laughed loud and long. “Yes, Miss Howard, I surely did. How about we keep that little tidbit b’tween you and me, all right?”
They’d long since passed from Denver, where Reenie Howard and her baggage had embarked, to racket along through the Rockies and beyond. An unending panoply of unfamiliar territory passed by the railway windows, delighting Nathaniel no end.
“God’s majesty,” he murmured.
Spring-green grass, caught like nubby cloth between deep lakes that reflected the late May sky, and blue-gray mountains festooned in snow; stands of pine so thick and full that their scent almost reached out to engulf the smoky iron horse; here and there a derelict building made of splintered board, abandoned to the elements.
Late afternoon, by then, and advancing into the westward sun. Before departure, early this morning, Nathaniel had partaken of a hearty breakfast; and the time for a light lunch had come and gone. Now, opening the basket provided by his seminary friends, he invited Miss Howard to share his meal.
For some time she had been silent, napping in semi-comfort against the window frame. Now, stirring, she brightened at his proposal. “Loaves and fishes, Reverend?”
Nathaniel returned her smile. “I’m afraid even that miracle is beyond me, Miss Howard. But you might enjoy tastin’ some of the sandwiches I’ve been given.”
As twilight drew in, a conductor made his way through the half-empty car to light kerosene lanterns that swayed overhead and check on the needs of his passengers. As the sole female, in her fabulous plumage, among a crowd of sleepy or conversational somber males, Reenie rated special attention. She was offered a rather scruffy quilt against the night chill, and advised as to the location of a “necessary” just inside the car’s rear platform.
Other than that, the conductor announced, their next halt would be made past the desert lands of Utah Territory, near Salt Lake City. Several hours’ stopover would allow travelers to get out, look around, stretch their limbs, and enjoy a hot meal and coffee at the station house before climbing back on board for the next leg of their journey.
“May I accompany you, Miss Howard?” Nathaniel wanted to know.
With a glance around at the small crowd already clumping through the aisle, she assented. “I would be most grateful, Reverend Yancey. Thank you.” Sweeping voluminous skirts aside, she rose to take his offered arm in its neat black wool.
Quite muscular, as well, she couldn’t help noticing.
“You did more in that seminary than read the Bible and sing hymns,” she guessed, as he helped her through the door and down the metal steps.
“Sure did. Just like bein’ home, in fact. Had t’ chop wood, cook and clean, make repairs, and so on. Service to the Lord, ma’am.”
“And probably excellent training for when you’re running your own parish,” Reenie said shrewdly. “That is—would it be called a parish?”
“Could be. Prob’ly, for my needs, a flock or a fold. But they all mean about the same, don’t they?”
After a brisk walk in the cooling night air, and a sturdy if unimaginative meal, they and a number of fellow passengers reboarded. Reenie was quite satisfied to continue on as before, with one wide seat, and the threadbare quilt, all to herself, and a man of the cloth settled reassuringly directly opposite, in case of trouble.
And so the rest of the night passed on by, with the monotonous clack of the locomotive’s wheels serving almost as a lullaby, so that most of the occupants drifted off into restless slumber. Sitting upright to drowse, jerked this way and that by motion of the car, bereft of mattress and pillow, is hardly conducive to proper repose. While Mr. Pullman’s luxurious sleepers, with actual beds in separate quarters, had recently gained in popularity, the Missouri River Railway carried only the essentials.
First light found their engine pulling into the station at Virginia Creek.
A whistle blew, the clacking slowed down and eventually halted altogether, and a cloud of white smoke poured forth from the stack.
Rousing, Nathaniel yawned, scrubbed at his face, rose to stretch cramped muscles, and retrieved his hat.
“Oh. This is your stop,” realized Reenie, peering sweet and sleepy-eyed from her coverings.
“Yes, ma’am, I get off here. I just wanna thank you for the pleasure of your company this far, Miss Howard, and t’ wish you luck for the rest of your journey.”
She reached up to take his hand in a farewell shake, releasing her clasp only to discover an engraved calling card had been slipped between her fingers.
“My information, Miss Howard, should you happen t’ need it,” he explained. “I already toldja about my brothers livin’ in San Francisco. John and Matthew, ’member? You ever run int’ any problems, you look ’em up. Promise me.”
“I promise, Reverend. And—thank you. Your kindness has been—extraordinary…” Her voice clotted up, and she suddenly turned her face away to hide a glimmer of tears.
“Miss Howard?” Concerned, Nathaniel lightly laid a comforting palm upon her shoulder. “What is it? I hope I’ve not been too forward in—”
“Oh, no, no, not at all!” Hastily swallowing whatever emotion had threatened, Reenie sent him a smile of dazzling purity and charm. “It’s just—well, not many people have gone out of their way to offer me such courtesy, or such generosity. I think you will make a fine minister, Nathaniel Yancey.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was full daylight of what looked like it would be a spanking-fine day by the time Nathaniel’s baggage had been unloaded onto the station platform: big wooden trunk, packing crate of books, battered carpet bag, and heavy boxes of miscellaneous personal effects. Nearby, scattered across scrubby hills and down into a valley, lay the buildings of Virginia City, homes and businesses, populated by some 15,000 souls in all.
Standing surrounded by evidence of transport to this new life, he inhaled a deep breath and watched the Missouri River Railway engine puff away into the distance, carrying Miss Reenie Howard with it. The passenger car had become, for just a short while, a temporary home; sanctuary, almost. Now that, too, was gone.
With a small sigh, whether of regret or of anticipation even he was unsure, Nathaniel went inside to see about hiring a carriage.
“Well, well, you must be the Reverend we been expectin’,” the stationmaster greeted him sociably. He emerged from behind his grated window to offer a handshake. “Had your breakfast yet, sir? No? Well, my wife sent me out t’day with a good helpin’ of extras. You just sit
down there, and I’ll fetch you a cuppa coffee t’ start off with.”
This warm welcome certainly seemed a good omen. Perhaps his sojourn in Virginia City would be one of grace and harmony, just as he had been hoping. Obediently, Nathaniel took his seat on the hard wooden bench and gratefully accepted a mug of steaming brew.
“Delicious, Mr.—?”
“Murray,” came the prompt reply, with a twinkle from faded blue eyes. “Buckwell Murray. Just call me Buck, Reverend. Here y’ go.”
A plate of freshly made and buttered sourdough bread and a couple strips of bacon had the good pastor appreciating the warm welcome even more. “Thank you so much, Buck. That really hit the spot.”
He beamed with delight. “Yessir, nothin’ like my Hannah’s breakfast t’ set a man t’ rights. We b’long to The Little Chapel, Reverend, so we’ll be attendin’ your services.”
“Well, then, I’m mighty pleased t’ make your acquaintance. And I look forward t’ meetin’ your wife, as well. Right now, I’d like t’ see about hirin’ me a wagon of some kind, t’ get all my things over t’ the parsonage.”
“Oh, sure, that we can do. Got a stable out back, so we can get you squared away right quick.”
Very soon, with the eager assistance of Buck Murray, Nathaniel was seated in a rather rickety carriage, pulled by an equally rickety old horse, and setting off for his parsonage with the address in hand.
“You just stay on this here road, Reverend,” directed the stationmaster. “Alonzo Drive, see the name? Keep on a-goin’ straight, then make a left turn when you come t’ Beaufort. After that, sorta curve int’ Renner. And that’s your place.”
Much as he wanted to hurry, it didn’t seem that the ancient gelding would be able to move at a pace faster than plod. So Nathaniel decided to sit back and enjoy the scenery.
No nicely paved or brick-bottomed streets here. Just gravel or dirt, which must play havoc with any kind of hopeful traffic—four-legged or four-wheeled—during a rain storm. Here, pines abounded: sugar, yellow, silver, ponderosa; farther down hill, on the lower levels, trees had given way to shrubs, such as mountain mahogany, sagebrush, Manzanita, and sumac.
A Western Romance: Nathaniel Yancey: Taking the High Road (Book 6) (Taking the High Road series) Page 1
