by Annie Boone
Everlasting Hope
An Inspirational Historical Romance
Annie Boone
Contents
Copyright
About Hero Hearts
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
It’s not quite the end!
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Copyright
Copyright 2018, Annie Boone and Sweet River Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, without written approval by the author, except for short excerpts used in a book review.
All characters, places, events, businesses, or references to historical facts are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any references to actual people, places, or events are purely incidental.
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About Hero Hearts
Welcome to Hero Hearts, a historical and contemporary Christian romance series.
Join Annie Boone, Hayley Wescott and Kate Cambridge in a world unlike any other; a world where Heroes are honored with unforgettable characters and beautiful, Christian love stories.
The authors of this series are committed to writing stories of faith, hope and love centered in fictional heroes who sacrifice daily to protect and save. A mix of historical and modern-day. We hope you enjoy the Hero Hearts Christian romance series!
~Annie Boone, Hayley Wescott and Kate Cambridge
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Chapter One
Springville, Texas; 1873
The sound in the barn was deafening. Papa must have brought the entire herd inside. Rebecca peered into the gloom of the huge space. All she could make out were the dark brown, swaying rumps of the cows. There was no sign of her father. She sighed, and then began to push her way through the lowing animals.
“Papa?” She raised her voice as loud as she could and stood on her tiptoes to see.
“Rebecca? What are you doing here?” Her father’s voice called from somewhere near the middle of the herd. She tried to make her way towards it, then noticed some movement slightly ahead and to her left. Papa had stood up. He looked tired, and his brow gleamed with sweat, even in the darkness of the crowded barn.
“I came to help. Uncle Will said you needed another five men and especially one or two with small hands,” Rebecca said. “I’m only one girl, but I figure that’s better than nothing. At least my hands are small.”
“Sweetheart, that’s good of you, but birthing calves isn’t work for a girl,” Papa said. He disappeared again, kneeling down at the head of a cow who was bellowing, expressing her pain most eloquently. “Go back inside, Will and I can deal with this. Your Mama would have me skinned alive if I let you help.”
“But Mama’s in Fort Worth with Uncle Harold and Aunt Julia. And the new baby, of course. She need never know of this,” Rebecca said, undeterred.
Rebecca was sick of being forced to stay inside, to always be a pretty parlor miss, especially when there was work to be done. There was plenty of work she knew she could be good at if given the chance. She wanted to help. Her father’s work was hard, and they couldn’t afford to hire another ranch hand right now. And she could help, but nobody would let her. It was frustrating beyond words.
Shaking her head in annoyance and then resolve, she sat down on her heels at the cow’s rear end. “Tell me what to do. I can help, you know I can,” she insisted.
Papa gave her an exasperated look. “Rebecca, what do you think Coby Jenkes will say, if he finds out his wife-to-be has been working like a ranch hand?” Papa’s voice wavered. He was more than aware of how determined his daughter was.
“I don’t much care what he will say. If he isn’t happy to wed me just as I am, then he isn’t the man you and Mama keep insisting he is,” Rebecca retorted. “And, surely having another experienced hand available in such emergencies would benefit him in the future just as much as it would help you right now. This cow is in pain. She needs your help, but so do all the others here. This is your busiest time of the year, and without me you stand to lose more than just the odd calf. You could lose many of the cows, too.”
Papa frowned. “I don’t think you understand just how much rests upon Old Man Jenkes’ good favor, Rebecca. We need access across his lands, his connections in New Mexico and his cowboys or we’ll never make money from this herd. If I teach you to birth a calf, and let you help out around the ranch word will get out somehow. Coby will want a biddable and pretty wife, not a course ranch hand.”
Rebecca snorted back a chuckle. “He wants a biddable and pretty wife? Well, whatever happens he’s going to be sorely disappointed if he expects that of me. Neither word describes me well at all.”
“Why must you always be so contrary and so difficult?” Papa blew out a breath and scowled.
“I am nothing but the daughter you raised,” she reminded him. “You can’t ask me to be something different now. So, show me what you need me to do.”
He sighed, but she knew she’d won—this battle at least. He needed help and she could provide it. Carefully he talked her through what she needed to do. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, jammed the pins in her hair as tightly as she could, wrinkled up her nose and slipped her hand up inside the animal.
“What can you feel?”
“I’ve found his legs. Calf is definitely breech,” she said anxiously. Papa frowned.
A breech birth was not only dangerous for the calf, but for the cow, too. But, he talked Rebecca through every step she needed to take, slowly and clearly. It was incredible how quickly it all happened, but in no time Rebecca was smiling down at a spindly-legged calf, with the biggest brown eyes she had ever seen staring back at her.
The mother lifted her head as Rebecca brought the calf to her head and began to lick the fluid from its coat. “Will they be all right?” Rebecca looked up at her father with emotion.
“Seems so, seems so,” Papa said, looking at his daughter with admiration. “You did well, my darling.”
The rest of the night passed quickly. Papa and Uncle Will moved through the herd, keeping their eyes peeled for the cows in distress. They called Rebecca when needed, and she repeated everything she had just learned. After the births she watched as the two men carefully moved calves and their mothers from the herd once they were born, into a separate pen. As the herd thinned, it was easier to make out those in distress and so they were able to help more quickly.
Sadly, as much as they tried to avoid it, there were still a small number of losses. Calves that lost mothers were quickly paired with mothers who had lost calves, where possible, and by the morning half the herd had been successfully birthed.
“Go and get a few hours of rest,�
� Papa ordered Rebecca as the sun rose.
“No, I should stay and help,” she insisted, trying to stifle a yawn.
“Will and I can manage those left,” Papa said firmly. “You need to be rested and well before your Mama returns this afternoon. It simply won’t do for you to have such bags under your eyes at the supper party with the Jenkes family this evening.” His tone was gently teasing, but Rebecca knew that he would not be deterred this time.
“You’d think they’d be as busy as us, given it must be calving time for their herds, too,” Rebecca said thoughtfully as she wearily, rose from the straw-covered barn floor, and brushed herself down. Her apron was covered in all manner of stains and her body ached in places she hadn’t even known she possessed.
“They’ve got the money to have ranch-hands do this kind of work,” Papa said, a slight note of derision in his voice. Papa believed that a man should be involved in all aspects of his own herd, especially calving. “But, you go and get cleaned up and get rid of those bags under your eyes before your Mama gets home, or she’ll skin us both alive.” He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his tired eyes sparkling with love for her.
Rebecca grinned. “Thank you, Papa,” she said softly, pressing a kiss on his cheek. She knew he understood, that she was thanking him for letting her help as much as she was for the chance to go and rest.
“Thank you, my darling,” Papa said emphatically, and Rebecca knew he was proud of how well she had done, and truly grateful for her help whatever he might actually say. “But, not a word of this to anyone. Don’t forget that!”
She nodded and made her way out of the barn and into the ranch house. Her boots made a satisfying clunking noise as she crossed the wooden porch, and the screen door creaked as she opened it wide. Rebecca untied her apron as she entered the hallway, and began unbuttoning her blouse as she made her way, slowly, up the stairs. By the time she reached her room, she was wearing only her undergarments, carrying her outer clothes over one arm. She would never have done such a thing if Mama were home.
Smiling at the strange freedom she had enjoyed whilst Mama had been away, Rebecca laid her clothing down on a nearby chair, and moved to the washstand. She poured water from the jug into the bowl, and dipped a washcloth into the cool water. With great satisfaction, she smoothed the cloth over her brow, her cheeks, and down her throat. It was refreshing and reviving to body and soul. She scrubbed at her arms and her hands, trying to remove the ground in dirt along with the evidence she’d been helping with the birthing from her skin.
Tired and bone-weary, Rebecca collapsed onto her bed, and was asleep the very moment she closed her eyes. She was still napping on the bed, clad in her undergarments when Mama returned home. Hearing the door slam, Rebecca sat bolt upright, her eyes wide.
“Oh gads. If I don’t get straightened up I’m going to be in big trouble.” Muttering out loud, she exhaled as the dread took over.
Chapter Two
Turning to the clock on the wall, she realized that she had slept for a full six hours. She stretched fully and her muscles felt tight and ached as though bruised. Ignoring the discomfort, she leapt out of bed and dressed in a clean cotton gown, hid the clothes she had been wearing the night before in her armoire, and hurried downstairs to greet her mother.
“Rebecca, your hair is a terrible mess. I think we should get Katherine to draw you a bath and wash it and pin it before we go to the supper this evening.” Mama’s voice was critical as always. And she’d omitted a warm greeting as Rebecca entered the drawing room.
Despite having travelled on dusty roads in an uncomfortable carriage from Fort Worth, Mama was immaculately turned out. Her gown was perfectly pressed and her hair set in an elegant arrangement of braids and curls.
Rebecca wondered if she would ever possess the self-containment and elegance that seemed to come so naturally to her mother, but she doubted it. Rebecca truly didn’t care for such things as gowns, and ribbons like other girls. She longed to be useful, as she had been last night. For the very first time in her life, she had felt that she had a purpose in a life she could love. She loathed the idea of becoming a pawn in someone else’s game.
“How were Uncle Harold and Aunt Julia?” Rebecca asked politely, trying to ignore the look of disdain her mother was giving her. “And baby James?”
“They are all quite well, though Julia is going to have to work very hard to regain her trim figure. She must have eaten Fort Worth out of pastries through her pregnancy.” Mama arched her eyebrows and shook her head. Her disdain at the idea of a woman gaining too much weight at any time was evident in her scornful tone.
Rebecca wondered if anyone ever lived up to her mother’s high standards of appearance and decorum. She often wondered why her mother was so critical. It wasn’t as though she was descended from a particularly wealthy family, and certainly Papa had not been. He had earned his place in Springville society by sheer hard work and determination.
Rebecca wondered if Mama was actually happy, and whether maybe she might have been more content had Papa remained in Houston, working as a bank clerk. But, her father had wanted to seek his fortune. Unafraid of hard work, he had chosen to take the risk of staking a claim in Texas. Her mother hadn’t had a choice but to follow him. But, she’d most definitely reserved the right to be unhappy with her husband’s decision.
Dutifully, Rebecca made her way to the kitchen and asked Katherine to prepare a bath for her. Katherine was round and kind, with white hair and a warm smile. She was their only servant and she acted as housekeeper, maid and cook. Katherine made keeping their home spick and span seem effortless, though Rebecca knew that the older woman’s knees were troubling her, and that she was getting more aches and pains in her back, her hands and her hips too.
“Mama wants me to have a bath.” Rebecca sighed heavily, sinking down onto a wooden chair and looking up into Katherine’s blue eyes.
“And I suppose she wants me to lug the copper up the stairs, as well as all the pails of water needed, too?” Katherine said with a wink and a smile.
“I’m sure she does, but my room is positively chilly,” Rebecca said, grinning at the older woman, “so if you don’t mind, I’d much rather bathe here in front of the fire?”
Katherine moved to caress Rebecca’s cheek. It was the kind of loving gesture that Rebecca had always longed to receive from her mother but never had. At least not that she could remember. At least Katherine had always been here to show her the tenderness and affection that Rebecca would have been deprived of otherwise. “You’re a good girl.”
Katherine had acted in many ways as an unofficial nanny when Rebecca had been a child, undertaking all acts of motherhood that Mama had found distasteful. Rebecca had only been welcomed in her mother’s parlor once she was clean and scrubbed with ribbons in her hair. She had to be the perfect picture of a child to be allowed to mingle with the adults.
Unfortunately, beneath the curls and lace, the heart of a mischief-maker had been beating loud and untamed. She was her father’s daughter, not her mother’s. Katherine had generously offered Rebecca the unconditional love she needed to thrive, and there was a deep, abiding affection between them. Rebecca genuinely cared about the older woman’s wellbeing, and happiness. Papa did, too. Only Mama insisted on things being done in a precise manner—as the wealthy did.
Rebecca helped Katherine haul the large copper bath into the kitchen, from the out building just across the small rear courtyard of the ranch house. Together they poured pail after pail of water into it before Katherine laid out a bath sheet on the kitchen table and threw several pinches of dried rose petals into the steaming tub.
“I shall go and polish the brasses and give you time to enjoy it,” Katherine said, and disappeared along the corridor as Rebecca began to unpin her hair and undress swiftly.
The bath was soothing to her tired muscles, and Rebecca let her entire body sink beneath the water, her hair fanning out behind her in a mass of silken waves. Reluctantly,
she sat up and began to lather up the small bar of soap Katherine had set upon a chair beside the tub. She rubbed the lather over her skin, and through her hair until it was squeaky clean. She dunked down to rinse everything off, and then stepped out of the bath, wrapping herself in the clean bath sheet. Picking up her clothes, she hurried up the back stairs and into her chamber, where she found clean undergarments and a brand new, emerald gown laid out upon her bed.
She had barely begun to dress when her mother swept into the room. “I shall assist you today. There is much at stake this evening and I want you to look your very best.”
Rebecca sighed. Mama was not a patient woman, and she could be brusque and forceful – especially when pinning Rebecca’s wayward curls. But, she docilely permitted her mother to dress her, even when Mama pulled her corset much tighter than usual making it hard for Rebecca to even catch her breath. “Mama, please?” she begged.
“The gown will not fit properly if your laces aren’t tight,” Mama insisted.
“But, I cannot breathe. If I expire, how will I ever be able to marry Mr. Jenkes?”
Her mother sighed heavily, and gave Rebecca a hard stare. But, eventually she relented, and let out the stays just a little. She moved to pick up the gown, gently stroking the fine fabric. “I should have been delighted to be able to wear a gown such as this when I was your age.” She sounded oddly wistful as if she wished that all this fuss were being made of her rather than her daughter.
