by Clay, Verna
He smiled slightly and then lifted his hands to encircle her waist and help her to the ground. Placing one hand on her elbow, he said, "I discovered a pretty view over this way."
Lilah followed him along a trail until they crested a rise. Below them the river spread out, bubbling happily in some places and farther upstream rushing and becoming whitewater. Tall pines lined the banks creating a haven for animals, and even as she watched, a doe and her twin fawns ambled to the water to drink. She glanced up at Rush. "This is wonderful. When did you discover it?"
"A week ago." He motioned to a rock outcropping. "Why don't we sit over there? We can watch the river while we talk."
Thinking about what she wanted to say, as well as wondering what Rush wanted to talk about, started her pulse soaring. After they were seated, he watched the river for a long minute and then said without looking at her. "We need to leave soon."
She softly exhaled, but before she could speak, he continued, "It will take about three weeks for me to return you to New Orleans. I spoke with the local judge and he said he would annul our marriage. But what we need to figure out is how to handle Chad. The way I see it, there are four options." He lifted a finger and counted each option. "Chad can stay here and be raised by Hallie and Cooper. Or I can raise him at the Big G. Or you can raise him in New Orleans. Or you can stay here and raise him."
Lilah's throat closed up and she couldn't speak. Rush studied her face. After a time he said, "I want to do what's best for the boy and I need your input before I make a decision."
The reality that Rush hadn't offered a fifth solution—staying married and raising Chad together—sent pain through Lilah's heart.
On a sob, she jumped up and said, "I-I can't talk about this right now."
Rush frowned. "Lilah, we have to talk about it. We have to make a decision soon."
Her lips trembled and she accused, "You-you didn't even mention the fifth option."
Unable to contain her heartbreak, she turned and fled back to the trail.
* * *
Surprised by Lilah's response, Rush watched her flee. Another option? Dare he hope?
Taking long strides, he quickly reached and stepped in front of her. When she tried to step around him, he gently grasped her elbows and held her still. "Look at me, Lilah."
She kept her face averted.
"What is the fifth option?" He watched her swallow and felt her tears drip onto his forearms. "Tell me, darlin'."
Still looking away, she said, "We could stay married and raise Chad together."
A surge of joy shot through Rush's heart, but he said, "And where would we live?"
"On the Big G." She sniffed and finally turned her face to his, lifting tear drenched eyes. "I know I have a terrible past, but I think I would be a most excellent wife and mother."
"So, what you're saying is that you don't want an annulment?"
"Yes. I mean no. I mean I want to stay married to you."
Rush responded softly, "Lilah, remaining married for the sake of a child is honorable, but it's not enough to base a marriage on."
"I'm not saying this because of Chad."
"What are you saying, honey?"
"I'm saying I love you, Rush. I don't want us to part. I want us to grow old together, and if God is merciful, have children of our own."
Rush stared at the ground and then lifted serious eyes to Lilah's. "Remember when we first met and you unbuttoned my shirt?"
Lilah's eyes widened and tears pooled. She nodded.
"I thought you were beautiful and I wanted to let the charade continue."
Lilah glanced down, her tears flowing.
"Look at me, Lilah."
Slowly, choking back sobs, she again met his gaze.
"But the desire I felt for you then pales in comparison to the desire I have for you now." He slowly smiled. "You are the most courageous, beautiful, loving, wonderful woman I have ever met and I love you so much I ache. I only pursued annulment because I thought that's what you wanted."
Lilah's eyes widened. "Oh, no. I never wanted that. I thought you did."
Rush's grin turned hopeful. "Since we're married, my love, do you suppose we could continue where we left off in New Orleans?"
* * *
When the reality of Rush's declaration of love finally settled in Lilah's heart, she returned his smile, lifted her lips to his, and then fulfilled his request.
Epilogue
Lilah paused her horse beside her husband's and son's horses. She petted Esmeralda neck. The fact that Rush had been able to buy back their faithful steeds and another horse for Chad when they'd returned to San Antonio, only added to her joy. Now, gazing at Big G's main house, the place she would call home for the rest of her life, while living with the most wonderful man in the world and raising Chad, she felt as if she would burst with happiness. Never had she imagined a life so full.
Rush said, "Chad, someday you will share this land with any children your ma and I may have, and any my brother may have." His expression of contentment as he glanced from his son to wife warmed Lilah's heart. And when he said, "Family, let's go home," she knew that this was the happiest day of her life…so far.
Research Materials for Lilah: Rescue on the Rio
Book:
The Wild West (How the West was Won) by Bruce Wexler. Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Websites:
azrymuseum.org
christopheloustau.com/100_Itinerary.htm
cprr.org/Museum/Maps/_cprr_map.html
cprr.org/Museum/SP_1869-1944
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nueces_River
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orange,_Texas
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steam_locomotive
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_and_New_Orleans_Railroad
frontiertimesmagazine.blogspot.com/2011/03/early-texas-railroad-history.html
historyorb.com/events/date/1878
inventors.about.com/od/pstartinventors/a/George_Pullman.htm
jstor.org/discover/10.2307/3901109?uid=3739256&uid=2&uid=4&sid=21102317500937
legendsofamerica.com/we-stagecoachterms.html
linkedin.com/company/unionpacific
mnn.com/green-tech/transportation/stories/how-fast-could-you-travel-across-the-us-in-the-1800s
nuecesriverranch.homestead.com/nrrindex.html
orcity.org/planning/brief-history-oregon-city
psot.org/Houston/npsoth information pages.pdf
richardmooreoutdoors.com/Article/34245
sdrm.org/history/timeline
slideshare.net/gaayathry/first-transcontinental-railroad-lesson
steamlocomotive.info/brochure.html
tcrr.com
texasbeyondhistory.net/pecos/natural.html
texasbeyondhistory.net/st-plains/images/he14.html
tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/eqr01
up.com
wellsfargohistory.com/resources/SF_Stagecoach.pdf
wikipedia.org/wiki/Laredo,_Texas
wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Orleans_in_the_American_Civil_War
wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogden,_Utah
wikipedia.org/wiki/Promontory,_Utah
wikipedia.org/wiki/Rio_Grande
wordpress.com/2013/04/01/susan-b-anthony-women-suffrage-leader
youtube.com/watch?v=OHQL0XW7pwQ
Museum:
Arizona Railway Museum: Chandler, Arizona
Author's Note
Throughout Lilah and Rush's story, I often held my breath, wondering what my inner "storyteller" would whisper in my ear. Sometimes I guessed where the story was going, and other times I was completely surprised. And like Lilah, I was anxious to know how her sister, Hallie, would react when discovering the truth about her. Of course, I knew Hallie would accept her sister unconditionally, but her response was even a surprise to me.
So, now that Lilah and Rush have discovered their happily-ever-after, joining Cooper and Hallie, it's time to move on to another family member. Actually, I should make that plural. While co
mpleting the final edits of Rescue on the Rio, I suddenly realized that not only did Tim and Daisy's story need to be told, but Rush's brother, Trent, also needed a love story. After making a few changes, I had the setup for Trent and Arizona's romance.
As for Tim, you may recall from book one, Cry of the West, that there was a feisty spitfire of a little girl introduced—Daisy Smithson. Much to Tim's dismay, Daisy revealed that someday they would marry because she'd dreamed it. Of course, Tim, being eight years old, was shocked and vehemently protested. However, Daisy remained firm. This is how their conversation went:
Tim replied, "You can't know that."
"Yes, I can."
"Cannot."
"You just wait and see, Timmy Wells."
Now, seventeen years later with Tim having just turned twenty-five, he's about to come full circle and meet up with Daisy again.
Regarding Trent, what can I say? He's a stubborn, lonely man, and certainly not interested in marriage, especially to a woman in her twenties whose pa has been a squatter on his land for over ten years. Why, she wasn't even sixteen when they first met and he tweaked her braid. But, try as he might to quell his feelings for Arizona Cayson, she's wrapped herself around his heart something fierce.
Goodness, I'm getting ahead of myself. If I keep writing, I'll give away too much of the story. So, getting back to Rescue on the Rio, I will admit that in some respects, the research was more difficult than for Cry of the West.
I am not mechanically inclined and so a goodly portion of the information about steam trains went over the top of my head. I did visit a train museum with a real steam locomotive and climbed into the cab to sit on the engineer's and fireman's seats. What a thrill to know I was in an actual train from the 1800s. I also walked through some Pullman coaches, and got so excited, I had to walk through them more than once as I imagined traveling westward on the transcontinental railway.
The most difficult part of the research, however, was mapping the train routes from Louisiana to Oregon. Many rails did not exist in the year I chose. I do apologize to any railroad-history buffs for inadvertent errors and liberties taken on my part.
As for researching the Rio Grande, also known as the Rio Bravo, and some historic towns throughout Texas, it was great fun. Again, errors sometimes happen, especially when attempting to describe terrain one has never visited.
During my research, I accidently happened upon information about Susan B. Anthony who, in 1878, wrote the Amendment that years later would become the 19th Amendment. That piece of history about such a courageous woman fit beautifully into my story.
In closing—now that I've covered everything on my mind—I hope you enjoyed Rush and Lilah's cross country adventure and continue on to the next adventure, Missouri Challenge, and the battle of wills between my heroes and heroines in book three.
Keep reading for excerpts from Missouri Challenge in the Finding Home Series and Abby: Mail Order Bride in the Unconventional Series.
Missouri Challenge (excerpt)
Finding Home Series #3
One: Alcove Spring
July 1883
After two months of riding the same trail he had traversed seventeen years earlier with his mother and Cooper Jerome, who would later become his beloved step-father, Tim halted Amigo, the horse his parents had given him when he was eighteen and graduated from the small school in Oregon City. His friend, Sam Hankerson, as smart as a whip, had graduated with him at the age of fifteen and gone on to higher education in Portland. Sam had returned three years later to teach school in Oregon City. By the time his friend was twenty, he was married to Polly, a sweet girl who had lost her parents on the Oregon Trail and been taken in by the Prudence Pittance Orphanage. Sam and Polly were expecting their first child and would be parents by the time Tim returned home. That knowledge boggled Tim's mind.
He resettled his hat against the sun. At one time, he had harbored a secret crush on Polly, but she'd always had eyes for Sam. Since the age of sixteen, there had been a few other girls that caught his attention, but none that made him want to settle down, except maybe Janie Iverson. But that was something he would think about when he returned to Oregon.
Now, gazing around the trail, it was as if he had traveled backward in time. In this modern era, traveling from the eastern states to Oregon was accomplished by rail, and portions of the original trail had been laid with tracks, but other parts, like here, seemed not to have changed even after all these years.
He nudged Amigo forward. He was anxious to reach Alcove Spring and see if he could find the names that Cooper had etched into stone amongst the hundreds already there. An hour later he paused beside a wooden sign painted with faded lettering—ALCOVE SPRING—and smiled. He turned Amigo in the direction of the arrow.
Before he saw the spring, the sound of bubbling water made him feel like a kid again and put a lump in his throat. His mother often said he was like his father, deeply caring and affected by things that other men never gave a passing thought to. He supposed she was right. All of his life he had been an observer. He loved animals and plants and trees and mountains and the mists during early morning. He had even penned a few poems that he kept hidden.
He rounded some bushes and came within sight of the spring. Words to one of his poems sprang to mind.
Days dawn
Rivers flow
Time continues evermore
Life is but a dawning and a flowing
Awaiting another sojourner when I cease
Tim smiled at his lapse into sentimentality, but his expression stayed contemplative as he realized the truth of his poem. He watched water cascade off a high ledge into the same basin he remembered from his youth.
Someday my life will cease. What legacy will I leave or will I even be remembered?
He dismounted and circled the basin, reading names and dates that went back as far as the 1840s. He scanned the rocks and after a few minutes found the etchings he was looking for. Aloud he read, "Tim Wells, Hallie Wells, Cooper Jerome."
Closing his eyes, he could still hear his mother's words. "Just think, all these people have paved the Westward Trails for us. And now, we're paving the way for those after us."
Although Tim felt things deeply, rarely was he moved to tears, but now, remembering that glorious day, he felt close to crying. Walking over to their names, he smoothed his hand across the letters. Afterward, he knelt and splashed his face. The water was just as cold as he remembered.
Because he wasn't ready to leave, he sat cross-legged at the water's edge and closed his eyes, thinking of his birth father, Thomas Henry Wells. The tears that had not fallen, now did so. He had loved his kind and generous father. When word of his pa's death in a tornado had reached his ma and him, part of Tim had died that day, and for a long time he had blamed God for allowing his father to travel to St. Louis on the same day as a tornado. The trip had been for the purpose of purchasing tickets for the steamer that would take them from St. Louis to Westport Landing a month later.
Since his father's death, however, Tim had reconciled himself to the fact that perhaps his pa's heroic deed of shielding a little girl from flying debris and saving her life had been for a higher purpose. One life given so another can live.
Deep in memories, he absorbed the sounds of water, wind, birds, and remembered good times with his father. Finally, he was ready to leave and finish his journey. His next significant stop would be the home he had lived in with his pa—a home with precious memories that called to him year after year. What would he find there?
Abby: Mail Order Bride (excerpt)
Unconventional Series #1
One: Courage or Folly?
Abigail picked up the newspaper advertisement for the hundredth time, read it again, reread it, and tossed it back on the desk in her library. Smoothing her hand over the sides of her auburn hair and the bun at the nape of her neck, she pushed her chair back and walked from the library to the parlor. Pacing the length of the lovely room, she stopped occa
sionally to straighten a vase or lift a family photo, all the while contemplating something so crazy it made her heart pound.
After an hour, she squared her shoulders, returned to the library, sat at her desk, slipped a piece of stationary from the drawer, reached for her ink and quill, and wrote:
March 18, 1886
Dear Mr. Samson,
I am writing to introduce myself. My name is Abigail Mary Vaughn and I read your classified advertisement in the Philadelphia Inquirer seeking a wife to help raise your three children. I would like to recommend myself. By trade, I am a teacher and that would benefit your children.
I have never been married and I am thirty-eight years old. I have lived in Philadelphia all my life and taught school for the past eighteen years. I am an only child and my parents died last year so there are no responsibilities keeping me here. I have always desired my own family, but circumstances of caring for my elderly parents prevented that.
I do not believe in withholding information, so I have been candid in my response to you. I hope to hear from you.
—Miss Abigail Mary Vaughn
Before she could react and change her mind, Abigail enclosed the letter in an envelope and asked Harry Puffins, her old servant, to walk it to the post office not far from her home near the city's center.
* * *
Brant removed his cowboy hat and ran a hand through hair as black as coal. Standing in front of the blacksmith's where he'd just had his horse shod, he heard his daughter calling from the entrance to Clyde Jenkins General Store across the street. Clyde, being the most likely candidate, was also the postmaster for the central eastern Texas town of Two Rivers. Jenny held her baby brother in one arm and waved letters in the other. "Hey Pa, you got more mail. Maybe you'll find us a Ma in this bunch."
