Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Prologure - New Hampshire 1891
One - Colorado, 1897
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Epilogue - Texas, Silver Ranch
Acknowledgments
About the Author
If you liked this book…
Title Page
Beneath
the Heavens
a novel
LINDSEY BARLOW
Copyright
Copyright© 2016, by Lindsey Barlow
Lindsey Barlow
lightmessages.com/lbarlow
Published 2016, by Light Messages
www.lightmessages.com
Durham, NC 27713
United States of America
SAN: 920-9298
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-61153-147-3
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61153-146-6
Cover art includes images licensed from PeriodImages.com and iStockPhoto.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without the prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Dedication
For my amazing mom
who taught me Christ-like love through her example.
Thank you for always being there for me.
Prologue
New Hampshire 1891
Esther looked down at the letter for what must have been the hundredth time. The etched lines of folding rested deep in the tear-stained paper. She read the words again, though they were practically memorized by now. The letter was imploring, kind and genuine. She could not remember when she had last encountered such sincere words.
Had she ever had any sincere kindness in her life?
A gentle gurgle pulled Esther from her reverie. She walked over to the small bed. Nested between two pillows was her son. It would soon be time to nurse him. It was a moment that she treasured, to feel his tiny warm body against hers as his chubby legs curled against her stomach. She leaned down and kissed his rose petal skin. Her pregnancy and delivery had been… well, terrifying. For nine months she had slowly travelled away from her home in Boston. For nine months she had lived off cabbage and potatoes. Then when her time came, she had been forced to find a cheap, inexperienced midwife whom Esther had to guide throughout the entire labor, an experience she would wish on no one. Esther had never been more grateful for the school of nursing she had attended in Boston.
The baby stretched and then fell back into a peaceful sleep. Esther gave him one last kiss before walking over to an old chipped vanity and looking in the mirror. Gone were the curves and the soft, rosy face. Stress and an inadequate diet had brought out her cheekbones, emphasizing her slender neck and making her eyes appear larger. She hardly recognized herself from the young pregnant girl who had fled her parents, her mansion, and her nightmare.
She looked at the letter again. Her parents must have written to Uncle Tim and Aunt Lily, informing them of her situation. They themselves did not try to find her, and why should they? After what happened she would now be considered tainted, and by association, they would be as well. No, they would never want to bring her back home, not after what happened. Rather than reconcile, they, out of some twisted sense of duty, sent a monthly payment. Enough for a small, cold flat and meager food, but nothing more.
Uncle Tim, however, offered a new life, a new start. Tall Pine, Colorado, was a small valley nestled at the base of the Rocky Mountains. Not too far from Denver and a growing town itself. His clinic was busy and the work drove him and Aunt Lily ragged. A midwife who could make home visits would be most welcome. Uncle Tim pointed out that she could bring her son on her visits and not have to leave him with some stranger, as she would have to do if she were to stay back East.
Perhaps, Uncle Tim had written, this is God’s plan for you to come to Tall Pine. Enclosed is payment for a ticket. We hope to see you and your child very soon.
God.
The word made Esther inadvertently glance at her small Bible, placed by her bed so she could purposely ignore it, as she had God, for these long months. Why should she give Him room in her heart after He had allowed such a horrible thing to happen to her? Why would she think of Him? Pray to Him? He had abandoned her, and so she had abandoned Him.
Esther tried to pull her eyes away from the Bible, but she couldn’t. It seemed another force moved her feet as she walked over and picked up the book. She skimmed through the dusty pages, once such a comfort to her. Her father had disliked religion. It was the only thing she had ever rebelled against until her untimely pregnancy. She had kept a Bible under her bed, and it had given her some silent freedom in the cage she had once called home. Her father had told her that religion was delusion, but to her, it was conclusion. The answer to all her problems, until it wasn’t.
The pages fell with a hush to Psalms… her favorite book. A crushed wild flower covered a marked scripture. Esther gently removed the bookmark of her childhood and read the scripture.
Weeping endureth the night but joy cometh in the morning
Tears stung Esther’s eyes. It had been night for so long. So much weeping, so much anger that gnawed at her soul. She looked over at her son Michael who surprised her every day with the love she felt for him. He was her morning and her joy. The greatest gift that could be given; something as perfect as he could only have come from God. God had given her Michael; out of a dark event, He had blessed her with an antidote to her pain.
Esther walked over to her baby and picked up the bundle wrapped in a soft cotton blanket. She kissed the warm round cheeks, inhaling that new baby smell. She couldn’t live her life weeping and feeling sorry for herself. It was no longer about her anymore. It was about Michael. He needed a happy mother, a mother who could provide him a safe and loving home, a mother who could show him goodness and hope… and faith.
A sudden warmth began to spread through Esther. The heavy weight that had been strapped to her shoulders for so long seemed to lift. This was right. Colorado was right. Being a mother was right. She could do this. She could move forward. If God gave her Michael, then maybe He still loved her. Perhaps, even if He had allowed terrible things to happen to her, He would help her heal.
Michael cooed and Esther laughed audibly as a new strength sprouted within her. Michael would have a good life; she would make sure of that. A sudden flame sparked in her eyes. She would also protect Michael—she must protect him from the mockery that would come should people know of her past. She would tell no one, not even her own son. Most of all, she would keep out the one thing that had hurt her most throughout her life: men.
One
Colorado, 1897
Abigail Silver sat on her suitcase and squirmed. She longed for someone to answer her questions, but
she also dreaded speaking to the strangers around her. From what she could see, Denver was, well, rough. She’d known there’d been an economic downfall when the price of silver dropped. Considering Colorado was the kingdom of silver mines, the change affected the state badly. Now all she saw were beggars and overly-rouged women stalking the few remaining wealthy businessmen.
She glanced down at her lace gloves, stroking the silver locket she had kept clenched in her hand throughout her journey from Texas to Colorado. It was not a fancy locket, no etchings nor engravings. The silver had been polished, kept clean, but one could tell that the locket had seen better days. Abigail’s bottom lip began to tremble. She bit it quickly before anyone noticed. Crying had always been her habitual defense. When she had stepped on the train and taken one last look at her parents’ faces, she promised herself that she would no longer cry in front of others. She was tired of being the weak one, the silly and frivolous girl who was always described as simply pretty, never useful, never smart, or kind, just pretty. She often felt like a piece of art whose sole purpose was to hang on a wall and adorn her surroundings.
The locket in her hand was warm now from her continuous stroking. Her mother, Hannah, had given it to her for luck. Although Abigail wondered if it was more of a reminder as to why Abigail’s beloved parents, who had spoiled her, pampered her, and given her an abundance of love, were now sending her away.
/
“I don’t understand,” Abigail had cried. Sinking to her bed, she looked up at her mother’s beautiful face that looked concerned and sad, but also determined. “I’ve been sending out inquiries to teach in Texas… around here.” Abigail wrung her hands. In truth, she had not planned on teaching at all. There were many suitors, many men of notable professions who courted her on a regular basis. She expected a proposal soon from one wealthy lawyer in particular. She would marry, live in a fine large house and hopefully, God willing, children would not come too soon so that she and her husband could travel and enjoy some pleasures before settling down.
All that had crumpled when her mother came to tell her that she now had a position in Colorado—a cold rough country she had no desire to see.
“Abby,” her mother had said gently while lowering herself to sit beside her distraught daughter. “I really feel you need this. You know I pray for you every day, asking the good Lord to guide me that I might raise you in love and wisdom. I want the best for you, and I feel the Lord wants this.” She took Abby’s hand. “My darling, you know this breaks my heart to send you away. I would not do it unless I felt it was the right thing.”
Abigail pulled her hand away. “You are showing your love by sending me away? I don’t understand. Why do I need to go? What have I done wrong besides be a good daughter, a good person? Do you want me to be gone like Joseph? Always gone so you and father can have peace and quiet without your troublesome children in the way?” she had said bitterly.
Her mother, Hannah, sighed and shook her head. “You know that’s not true Abby, and you’re not troublesome, nor have you done anything wrong. The problem is that you just haven’t done anything.” Her mother threw her hands in the air. “Once you became—” she waved at Abby’s body and face, “beautiful, your life was suddenly centered on parties, fashion, men, and being a popular socialite. Gone was my sweet girl with a firm faith in God and who she was.”
“You’re saying I’ve lost my faith?” Abby frowned. Despite her anger, Abby did know her mother loved her, and she also knew her mother was a wise woman. What she said struck Abby… had she really become so shallow?
“No, I don’t think you’ve lost it, but it has been shoved back into the far cupboards of your heart while silly, unimportant things have taken higher priority.” Hannah touched the silver locket she always kept around her neck. “You know when I met your father, I was a rough-handed cook for a hundred cowboys herding cattle. Your father wasn’t the well-to-do rancher he is now. He had just settled his own ranch with a few skinny cows and no business connections. Marrying a poor widowed cook with a son only added more to his plate.” Her eyes softened remembering the old times. “But he worked, and me and your brother worked, and worked, and it was wonderful. I promise that the greatest happiness comes from knowing hardship. It’s the only time we are forced to go to God.”
Once again she reached for Abby’s hand. “You, my dear, have not had enough challenges, and I love you too much to let you become a shallow, silly woman.” She looked down at the locket. “This was my only piece of jewelry for many years as I struggled to feed your brother Joseph, put up with my by then drunken husband, and eventually earn my way as a widow. Your father has offered many times to buy me a new one, but I keep this to remind me of the blessings the Lord has given me, and I’m not talking about having a prosperous ranch. I am talking about the insight, the love, and the happiness He has given me by allowing me to struggle.”
/
Abby now unclasped the locket and placed it around her neck. It looked especially old against her fancy frock and large hat; a part of her wanted to take it off, embarrassed at its antiquity. When the thought settled in, Abby shook her head and scolded herself.
Goodness Abby, you have become a high and mighty snob, she thought shaking her head.
Maybe Colorado was what she needed. Still, it had been hard to go, hard to leave her beautiful home with the rich grassy fields and the smell of roses outside her window. She had hoped to see Joseph, her older brother and best friend, but as always, he had been too busy.
She sighed and looked around. She had captured several stares. Women glared disapprovingly at her dress and five cases. Men nodded, some winked and tipped their hats. Abby felt her face go red.
Men. Generally she loved men. Loved the attention and presents they gave her. That was, until her father told her that several men had asked for his permission to marry his only daughter, and when Jefferson Silver explained that his daughter would not be receiving a significant inheritance, or a part of the ranch, their proposals had been suddenly withdrawn.
“Of course when your mother and I are passed away, you will receive an inheritance,” he had explained to her. “But most of these men sniffing around here are after my land, not you. I don’t want to rob you of true love for some gold digging hound.
The revelation had shocked Abby and then had broken her heart. Here she had believed her beauty and charm had won the men’s hearts. Now she knew it had been her father’s fat cattle that had enticed the roses and chocolates. Right now she was angry. Truth be told, she did not care if she never saw another man again.
“Miss Abigail Silver?” a deep voice asked. Abby looked up from her self-pitying trance. Her rosebud lips parted and her large gray eyes blinked once… twice… three times.
In front of her stood a young man in his mid-twenties—a little older than her, a little younger than Joseph. His jaw was square, masculine, and free of facial hair, which he made up for by the deep mahogany locks that hung a good solid two inches below his ears. What took Abby aback was his size. The tallest, most muscular man she had ever seen had always been Joseph. This man was nearly as tall and strong looking as her brother—nearly.
Abby gulped as she met his intensely blue eyes, the patched trousers and working boots contradicted his jaw-dropping beauty.
“Uh, yes, I am Abigail Silver. You can call me Abby,” she tried to laugh gaily, but it came out more like a throaty cough. She blushed crimson as the man raised an amused eyebrow.
“Abby, huh?” he nodded. “I’m Pastor Will, from Tall Pine. I’ve come to, uh–” his eyes widened slightly at her multiple, large cases, “to collect you, I guess.” He glanced again at the cases, and Abby cursed herself for bringing too many. Now she felt even more like a silly girl. She was a schoolteacher for crying out loud, not a princess on holiday. She did not need to bring every dress and blouse and buckle, but she had and she couldn’t change that now.
“These all yours?” Will asked with a sigh.
&n
bsp; Abby nodded. “Most are just school supplies. You know, should the school house not be able to provide much.” She lied in desperation, so as to not appear so foolish.
The pastor’s lips twitched playfully. Pastors weren’t supposed to look like him were they? Wasn’t there a law that said pastors needed squinty eyes and a large belly? Maybe Abby had sworn off men a little too quickly.
Will scanned Abby’s fancy lace dress. “School supplies?” he questioned with a grin, obviously seeing right through her lie.
Abby looked away, feeling flustered. What a horrible way for an introduction. A much-too-fancy dress, too much luggage, and a transparent lie. “I thought a coach would be taking me to Tall Pine,” she said, straightening her shoulders.
Will shrugged. “Lots of the transportation was cut down in Denver with the fall of silver. You wouldn’t be able to get a coach for a couple days, and with the crime rate in Denver—” he glanced at a group of men drooling over Abby and looking at her cases. “I didn’t feel right about leaving a school teacher alone in a hotel for several days.”
Abby smiled gratefully. “Thank you; that would have been a bit unnerving.”
Will gave a half nod and stopped one of the station’s employees to ask for a dolly of some sort to carry the cases to his wagon. “You don’t have any more of these, um, school supplies do you?” he asked with a smile.
Abby laughed and shook her head. “No I don’t, but I could always send for more if you think I should,” she teased.
Will chuckled. “I think five is ample.” He was silent for a few minutes as he stacked the cases onto the dolly without breaking a sweat. Abby noticed that periodically his gaze would dart over to her and linger no more than a blink’s worth. She straightened her hat. He was being polite in a cheeky sort of way, but he was not acting as men usually did with her… he was not attentive. Suddenly anger flared within Abby. Why should he pay any attention to her? He wasn’t aware of her father’s good standing amongst the ranchers, or of his acres, or of her fine house. Why should he give her attention since, apparently, all she had to offer was what her parents had earned?
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