by Caryl McAdoo
Mis’ess Moses Jones. Didn’t sound too bad. A whole lot better than delivering a bastard son into the world. She needed a drink, a stiff one, maybe three. Instead of going to the market, she turned right and strolled down the street.
Walked into the first saloon she came to, a seedy looking place. Last night’s cigar smoke and puke stunk the place up. The few men littered about gawked at her, and reminded her she was alone.
Why did they always have to ogle like that? She hated it. The barkeep smiled, maybe like a new sporting lady just walked in looking for a crib.
She slapped a silver dollar on the bar. “Whiskey.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Moses hit the rod, Jethro turned it. Blow after blow, the rhythm so familiar, so taxing.
“That’s good.” Jethro pulled the one-footer out and picked up the two foot rod. “Need a breather?”
“No, let’s get this last hole done.”
Pound. Turn. Again and again and again. Moses let his mind’s eye feast on his love while he worked. Make her mine, Lord, soften her heart toward me. Strike a blow. Breathe. Do it again. Bless her Father, take away the pain I see in her heart. Convince her of my love.
Jethro held up a hand. “My turn.”
No way was he about to argue. Moses let him. After too many blows to count, the rod dug into the rock, then its hole packed with powder.
Jethro braided the three lengths of twine then picked up the keg and laid the fuse line back ten foot. “Looks good to me. You?”
“Aye, me too. Give me the matches.”
“No, get yourself on out and let me.”
“Isn’t it my turn?”
“No, you clumsy oaf. It’s never your turn, now get on back.”
Moses had to agree, running with his head down wasn’t easy for him. Not that Jethro hadn’t stumbled a time or two. “You be careful now.”
“Of course, go on.”
The blast loosened more rock and more gold. Seemed to Moses every load that got run through the Long Tom proved better than the last. That night while he sat on the cabin’s porch admiring God’s handiwork, Jethro toed his boot.
“Been three weeks, partner. You best get on down to town tomorrow.”
“Come with me. Meet Lanelle.”
“No, I’m not going back, not ever.”
Moses looked at the only real friend he’d ever had. “God can –”
“Hold it. Didn’t we have church yesterday?”
“Well, what little you’d allow.”
His partner grinned.
“Look, forget me going back. And this time, I want you to stay a week. Spend some real time with the woman ’stead of asking her to marry you then lightin’ a shuck. You’re going to make her think there’s only one thing you’re interested in, and women…well, they want more.”
“A whole week? Why so long?”
“That Elijah, the one who said he could build a steam engine?”
“What about him?”
“Spend some time with him, too. See what kind of a man he is.”
“What are you thinking, Jethro?”
“I’m thinking we might need us another partner.”
“You wanting me to bring him up here?”
“I think it’s time to register our claims. And if this kid is the genius I think he is, then…” Jethro leaned back and stuck his feet out. “How’d you like not to ever swing another sledge hammer?”
“I’d love that; aye, ’tis true.”
“So would I, and I’m going to need another bunk mate, too, seeing as how you’re getting married. And there’ll be another cabin to build.”
“You don’t know that.”
“My friend, any woman would be crazy not to accept such a man as you. A fine Christian gentleman, and a rich one at that.”
That night he dreamed of the sweet lady. The next day as he drew closer to town, the more his heart swelled.
Oh Lord, make it so. Your Word says you’ll give me the desire of my heart. And You full well know from that first moment I put eyes on the lass, I’ve wanted Lanelle. Want to wrap her in my arms and keep her, never let anything bad happen to her again. I’ll love her true, Lord, if You’ll see Your way to give her to me.
That first whole day, he stayed with Elijah, not able to make himself go to Wheeler and Wheeler Mercantile and see her. What if she said no? The second day, he looked in on that first smith, the man had not even started on the piece he hired him to build. The boy had already finished with his and begun on the second.
After a rather heated discussion, Moses settled for most his dust back and the drawing.
The third morning, right after a nice three-egg-and-double-stack-of-flapjacks breakfast, he about fell off the sidewalk. Right there, marching up the boards, his lady herself—Lanelle Wheeler—swished her full skirt with her gaze fixed on him.
But no smile graced her pretty face.
“Moses Jones.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She drew up close and stopped. “I’ve heard from no less than three folks that you were in town. Why haven’t you come calling?”
“Uh….” He couldn’t lie, that would never do. The good Lord hated lies. “Uh, well…you see, ma’am…I was afraid.”
She burst out laughing. Glory be to God above! Then she smiled at him, and her eyes twinkled. She stepped right up in front of him less than a foot away. “Moses Jones, of little ol’ me?”
Lilacs and honeysuckle, and all sweet flowers is what she smelled like, so close she was. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filled his lungs with her sweetness. All his fear melted away.
And he returned a genuine grin. “No, my darlin’ lass, not of you. Of what you were going to say.”
She turned and held out her arm. “We need to talk, sir, somewhere private.”
“Where’s John, ma’am. Don’t we need a chaperone for your honor’s sake?”
“No, sir. Now I’ve shamed myself enough coming here. Is there somewhere private you know or should we talk right here on the sidewalk?”
“Elijah’s shop is around the corner. We can talk there.” He extended his arm, and she looped hers through it. Her touch thrilled him, sent waves of pure bliss from her fingers all the way to his heart and made it beat irregular to be sure.
He slipped the young man a dollar. “Flapjacks are extra good this morning.”
Elijah looked from him to her then laid down his hammer, stripped off his leather apron, and vanished.
He stepped behind the forge. “This private enough?”
“Yes, sir, I suppose it is.” She lifted her chin a bit, looked so cute. “Well.”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to ask me?”
Ask her what? His heart pounded. What was he supposed to say? Then it hit him like his ten pounder right between his eyes. “Will you marry me?”
She nodded, then closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. What was it? She nodded, but did she hate so much the thought? When she opened them again, she looked at him straight on. “Moses, there’s something you need to know first.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know that you don’t love me yet, but that will change, I’m sure of it.”
“There’s more.”
“Don’t matter, whoever or whatever has hurt you, it don’t make the least bit of difference to me. You are the woman I’ve been waiting for and I knew it the first time I saw you. You’ll make me the happiest man on –”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Dear Lord.” He recoiled. Her words hit him harder than any fist ever had. And hurt more, too. He took a deep breath, then another. The silence in the air of that shop was deafening. He swallowed. “Don’t matter, Lanelle. I’ll have you all the same.”
“There’s more.”
His chest heaved. How, Lord? How could there be more? Would she rip his heart all the way out? Right now in Elijah’s shop? Tears welled then ran down his cheeks, but he did not wipe them away. “Tell me, Lanelle, tell me
true. Say it this one time, then I swear to you, it’ll remain behind us forever.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. The bravado she’d wore in cracked then melted away.
Poor little thing, so broken. She came up close to him and slipped her tiny hand into his.
“I must tell you that I’m in love with Caleb, have been since only a girl. He’s the baby’s daddy.”
Sobs racked him. Tore at his core.
Oh Lord, I thought You told me…how can I bear this pain? Help me, Father.
He held his arms out, and she fell into his embrace. For the longest, tears flowed, wetting his chest and her hair. Finally, she leaned back. “Moses, I swear to you, I’ll make you the best wife ever.”
He sniffed. “I love you, Lanelle, from that first moment.”
“I’ll be faithful. I’ll cook for you and keep your home, wash your clothes. And the baby…I swear he won’t be any bother to you, not one little bit.”
“No, no, my sweet, I love wee babes, and you don’t have to do none of that, I’ll hire us a maid, and oh…”
“I’m forever grateful to you, Moses, and I’ll show you that as long as we live. I promise you. Thank you, dear man. I can never thank you enough.”
“No, ma’am, ’tis I who’ll be thanking you, and I’ll –”
She silenced him with a kiss. “There’s a preacher not far from here.”
“That’s a good thing to know.”
“Let’s get married today. Right now, can we?”
He nodded and leaned in close. She pressed her lips gently against his, not what he’d envisioned, but for now, it’d be enough.
Praise God, the Lord could make all things new.
Chapter Six
“I’ll be back in a week.”
Mary pulled her gown tight over her belly, turned sideways and patted her growing waistline. “But Rebecca Sue does not want her daddy going anywhere.”
Caleb sat up. “It’s what I know best, sugar. And we’re about out. You have to admit, the whiskey money sure has come in handy.”
“It has, and I do, but there’s plenty of work here.”
“For you and John, yeah. Other than unloading and stocking, not for me. Not since we finished building. Please don’t fuss. There’s not a lot here for me to do.”
She climbed into bed. “Well, how about only four days then?”
“If I can find what I’m looking for, but if the water’s not right then liquor will just be rot gut.”
“What about white oak? Where you going to get real Texas white oak barrels?”
“I’ll have your daddy send me all I need.”
“Uh, now there’s an idea. Are you crazy? They all hate us now. Not one word. Daddy must have forbidden every last one of them, or Rebecca would have answered my letter. They don’t want anything to do with us. Forget them helping.”
“Oh, it’s only been six months. He’s not even back yet.”
“Do you believe for one minute that the moment he got my telegram, he didn’t send word? I guarantee you, they all know. And my letter is bound to have been delivered to Clarksville by now. Didn’t you post it the first week we were here? That was like six months ago. But why else do you think someone hasn’t written? It isn’t like they can’t. Mercy, a stamp is only fifty-two cents.”
“Heard it’s dropping to thirteen cents, soon. I’ll write Uncle BJ, get him to ship us some oak planks. There’s plenty of carpenters here. We’ll make our own barrels.”
“Promise me, no more than a week. Either way. Sweet water or none. Rebecca Sue and I want your word on it.”
He kissed her. “Sure it ain’t little Caleb wanting his pap handy?”
She kissed him back. “Well, whatever this baby’s name is, no more than seven days, promise?”
“I do. Like I said in the beginning, I’ll be back in a week.”
“Smarty pants.” She hated the thought of him going, but at least he’d get a chance to look in on Moses and Lanelle. Meet the mysterious Jethro Risen. Shame she couldn’t go, too. But then no telling what the store would look like without her for a whole week.
The more she got to know John Wheeler, the less she liked the way he did things.
“I’ll miss you.”
Second morning from town, Caleb found the rutted trail and pass that led to their mine. Easy enough, but instead of driving on in, he stopped short, pulled the wagon behind a big pine, then unhitched the mules and hobbled them.
With his last two pint bottles in his pockets, he retrieved the jug and a nice piece of jerky from under the wagon's seat.
Their mountain weren’t no hill for a stepper like him. He climbed to the ridge opposite from where Elijah claimed his new cousin had built her a cabin. Staying well hidden, he watched the three men’s comings and goings.
Bunch of busy beavers. He resisted pulling a cork and toasting their industriousness going after the gold. What he wanted wasn't in the rock, but in that new cabin. What a fool he'd been.
After Elijah ran the second load of ore through the iron hammer mill, then moved on to the long tom, it struck Caleb. A spring fed the rocker. He moved out, staying low and hidden. Once he got a good ways past the mine, he crossed over.
Without much scouting at all, he found the water's source.
The fair-sized pool tasted sweet with a hint of mineral. His heart flipped, exactly what he needed. The water could have come from the same spring as back home. Moses Jones and the mysterious Jethro Risen didn't have any idea what they had.
He set the jug in the icy water, straightened his back, and marched straight to his love's cabin, patting each pocket.
Keeping hidden from view of the mine, he made it all the way to her cabin without being seen. She sat on the porch shelling peas, letting the pods drop into her lap. Her belly had swelled alright, but not nearly as much as Mary's.
Still, Lanelle carried his baby.
He drew near and pulled a pint out. “Thirsty?”
She looked up, gasped, then shook her head. “Caleb Wheeler, where'd you come from?”
“Been scouting springs for my new still, found a nice one a ways back.” He extended the bottle. “I brought this for us now, and there's a jug cooling in the source pool. Should be ice cold by supper.”
“You can't stay, you need to go.” She stood. Pods and snaps fell to the boards. “Go on now, before Moses sees you?”
“Now Nellie, my love, is that any way to talk to your baby's daddy?”
“Moses Jones is the father of my baby. I ain’t kidding. I want you to leave now. Or do I have to call my husband?”
The bottle slipped from Caleb's hand, hit his boot then bounced away. Never in all his born days had she talked to him that way. Never, no matter how mad she got. He filled his lungs.
“Sweetheart, come on. I love you. You know I do. And I made a big mistake. Come and go with me. We'll get married; you know you love me. And we've always knowed we’s meant for each other.”
“What about Mary? She know you're here professing your love to me and trying to get me to run off with you? I bet not! This is just another one of your lies.”
“Naw, Sugar, I ain’t.”
“Sure. Talking all sweet, trying to trick me into lightin’ a shuck and ruin the best thing I ever had. Moses loves me true.”
“Didn't tell her, but I told John. He's in love with her, or hadn't you noticed?”
“Of course. You think I'm blind? But what does that matter? Not one whit! I'm married, Caleb. You had your chance. I promised to be faithful to my husband, and that means something to me and God. Moses is a good man.”
His stomach churned, and his cheeks burned. He hated the words coming out of her mouth. “Nellie, from that first time, we've been married in the eyes of God, says so in the book. Didn't you know that?”
Staring at him, she held something in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before. She glanced at the pint bottle on the ground then back to him. “No, and I doubt it’s true, but I’ll ask Moses. I
don't love you anymore, cuz.”
“What?”
“I'm married to a real man now. Don't need you or your liquor.”
She strolled to the end of the porch, reached up, and grabbed hold on the rope dangling from a fair-sized bell hanging there. “Sure not very smart to let my husband catch you here.”
“Wait.”
“I don't think he'll take too kindly to you asking me to run off.”
“He won't think nothing. I'm only your cousin come to visit and bring you a little wedding present.”
“Oh, he'll think plenty, trust me, because he knows it all.”
“Wait. You didn't tell him about us, did you? Did you?”
She laughed, then nodded. “Of course I told him. Why do you think we've been sending Elijah for supplies?”
Caleb stepped back far enough to check the mine's opening. Nothing, no movement. He looked back. She was so beautiful, but different from Mary in a mature, seductive way. He'd never wanted her more than at that moment.
Why had he been so stupid? “Last chance, Nellie Wheeler. Come on, come go with me.”
She shook her head and clanged the bell. “Mis'ess Lanelle Jones to you.”
He turned and ran.
She whipped the rope again, clanging that blasted bell to kingdom come.
He picked up the pace, and sprinted as fast and as far as he could.
Lanelle watched until he was out of sight, then stepped off the porch, retrieved the pint and popped the cork. She took a nice long pull.
Oh Lord, thank You, and please never let him come back.
She sank to her knees, and tears flowed down her cheeks. Took half the little bottle’s contents before her sobs eased then stopped.
The image of Caleb Wheeler running for his life flashed across her mind's eye. He sure hauled it out of there. It tickled her good, and she started with a giggle, then blew the next little swig out her nose.
After a laughing fit, she went to gathering the spilled peas and snaps. They sure looked sweet and she couldn’t wait to cook them.
Rinsing off as much dirt as she could, she put them on to boil. She loved the cookstove Moses had bought her. He still wanted to hire her a maid to cook, but she wouldn't hear of it.
