by Caryl McAdoo
The next morning, a rapid knock sounded on the door. She rose on one elbow and kissed Levi’s cheek. “Husband?”
He opened one eye and smiled.
“Someone is knocking at our door.” She grinned back. “Did you hear me? Our door? Don’t you just love the sound of that? Not your door. Not my door. Our door. I love being Mis’ess Levi Baylor.”
Another knock sounded more like someone banging it with their fist than rapping with their knuckles. “Mama! Daddy Cap-tain! Let me in!”
Levi slipped out, opened the door, then followed his little partner back to the bed. Charley snuggled under the covers next to her right in the middle and spread his infectious smile around.
Then he proudly announced, “Me escaped.”
Her brand new husband tousled her son’s hair. “How’d you do that?”
Charley scooted up and launched into an elaborate explanation. She loved this boy and his story. Shame she’d named him after that lying—she stopped herself.
She wouldn’t do that; not today, not ever. Charles Nightengale fathered the boy, but Levi Baylor would always be his daddy and partner. And that was that.
Wishing away the past served no purpose. Her hand went to her expanding waist. Soon enough, she’d deliver the newest member of her little family, then she and Levi could be about having him a passel of babies.
“Then me put chair back and run here.”
Another knock rapped at the door; this one sounded soft and ladylike followed by a rather loud whisper. “Rose? You awake?”
The boy ducked under the covers. “It’s Auntie Bitty Beck! Hide me.”
Levi hid him best he could, but Rebecca got him anyway and tickled him good as punishment for escaping. Rose would love nothing better than to lounge around in bed all day.
But Levi had booked them passage on a steamboat to Memphis. Rebecca had asked if she could check on her grandfather on the way home. It didn’t matter to Rose.
The Lord had worked things out for her and Levi, given her the desires of her heart. She’d never been married until yesterday, and she now treasured the institution.
Four lazy wonderful days steaming downriver, cherishing being Mis’ess Levi Baylor, then it all changed the moment the hired buggy stopped in front of her friend’s grandfather’s home.
She didn’t recognize the light-skinned darkie on the grand house’s front porch, but apparently Rebecca did.
She flung the buggy’s door open and jumped down. “Jean Paul, what are you doing here?”
“It’s your mama, Miss Rebecca. The baby boy came early, and Miss Sue’s in a bad way. Your daddy sent me.”
Levi heard the ex-slave’s words, but didn’t want to believe them. The only mother he’d ever known couldn’t be in a bad way. She’d never been sick a day in her life.
There had to be some mistake. Other women—his own mother—had trouble birthing babies and died, but not Susanna Abbot Baylor Buckmeyer. She’d been the one constant in his life.
Why he always figured she’d be there crying her eyes out when they planted him.
Oh, Lord, don’t let anything happen to Auntie.
He shook off the news and turned his attention to getting home as quickly as possible. Had it been only him, he’d buy the best horse he could find and get gone, but it wasn’t. He had to get his sister back, too.
“Wallace.”
“Yes, sir.”
He handed his friend two gold eagles. “Make the arrangements, get us all home.”
“Yes, sir.”
In a little more than an hour by the old man’s parlor clock, Rebecca hugged her grandfather’s neck and promised to send word.
His troupe crossed over the Mississippi on a barge, then Wallace had seats booked on the stage that left from the wharf. Levi hated the hard benches, hated the swaying, but nothing else made sense.
Hour after hour, he fought the urge to borrow trouble, refused to speculate. She had to pull through. She’d prayed so long for him, and he wanted to share his good news with her.
Letting her know her prayers had been answered would thrill her. She’d be so happy. About his and Rose’s good news, too. She and his Bitty Beck would throw the biggest party Red River County ever saw for his new bride and him.
He imagined the hustle and bustle and all her smiles, the laughing. Why hadn’t he ever told her how much he loved her and appreciated her, everything she ever did for him?
Once he got home, she’d know for sure what she meant to him. How proud he was of her for sticking to her guns and not breaking her vow. He had no idea back then how hard it had been for her.
Sue Baylor was the strongest woman he’d ever known. He looked over at his wife. She was an awful lot like Aunt Sue, strong and independent.
He’d seen for himself back when just a kid that she fell in love with Henry; how much they loved each other, but she never would have tied the knot without her father’s blessing.
A short laugh tried to escape. Actually, truth be known, she was probably stubborn and proud to a fault. A pat on his knee ended his cogitations. He nodded at Rebecca.
She sat across from him. “When Rose married Nightengale, I couldn’t believe it, was so disappointed. We were so young, and.…” Her voice trailed off and her gaze fell to her lap where she worried with a cuticle.
“And? What did she do?”
Almost a little embarrassed, she looked up and shrugged slightly. “Oh, I’d always wanted her for my sister, so, well, I guess I’d been asking God for the two of you to fall in love.”
“That so.”
She grinned real big. “And now you have. Mama’s going to be so happy!”
Levi glanced at his beautiful bride who snoozed on his shoulder, then back to his Bitty Beck. “Well, the Lord definitely does work in mysterious ways.”
She sniffed then moved her head slightly.
“Right before we left for St. Louis, she took me aside.” She swiped at her cheeks. “I was so glad to be going, so excited that my prayers were coming true. I didn’t really listen to her...”
“Auntie?”
She nodded.
“What did she say?”
“I can’t even remember all of it, but that she loved me. And how the last twelve years with Daddy were the best of her life. She hugged me real hard and long.” She stared out the window a long minute.
“I never doubted her love.”
“Do you think she knew? I mean that she might have trouble?”
“Couldn’t have, could she?”
Looking back, Rebecca waved air in her face. “I thought she was being silly or something—a little too sentimental—because of me being gone a month. But now, the more I think about it, maybe she sensed something and…”
He shook his head, then reached out and patted her knee. “Oh, Sister, don’t. Auntie’s fine. She’ll be all well by the time we get home.”
She nodded again, but he wasn’t sure he’d swayed her, or himself. For a bit, sweet images of his aunt danced around and through the prairies of his mind. One of his favorites stopped and lightened his heart.
“Remember our third cotton crop, the first big one?”
“How could I ever forget? That’s the year we met Daddy.”
“I got so sick of chopping; my calluses had blisters. Then late one afternoon, I spotted her standing at the end of a row in those britches of Uncle Andy’s she always wore stomping the dirt to beat the nines. I watched her for a minute or two before she saw me.”
He choked back a tear.
“And? What did she do?”
He swallowed hard and hurried back to his telling. “Smiled ear to ear and held her arms out opened wide to me. I trotted up that row into the biggest hug she’d ever given me.”
“I love her hugs!”
“Even though I was bigger, she twirled me around then whispered in my ear. ‘We did it, Levi.’” He smiled at his Bitty Beck. “Don’t you worry. She’ll beat this, whatever it is, just like she whipped th
at cotton.”
“Mama’s one tough lady, that’s for certain. I’ll never forget the time she got the wagon stuck in White Oak Creek. Remember?”
“How could I forget?”
“Daddy carried her to shore. I loved it, watching him carry her. I wanted them to fall in love and get married more than anything in the world.”
“You’re quite the little matchmaker, aren’t you? Even way back then.”
She raised both eyebrows and gave him one little nod down. “Yes, sir, that’s me.”
Even with all the pleasant memories, the closer to Texas he got, the darker the cloud that followed, hovering over his heart. He hated the thought of her suffering and prayed her fever would break.
She always told everyone that she never got sick, even being blue at the gills and burning up with fever, she’d scurry around seeing to dinner.
What if he never saw her again? If she never tousled his hair or kissed his cheek again? He’d be happy even to have her boss him around some.
He tried to think before, but couldn’t remember any times when she wasn’t his only parent, back before the accident. He’d been five. As many times as he’d tried, he never could see his father’s face.
Though nightmares of that awful night his dad and uncle died plagued him with horrible images burned into his memory of the dead oxen and jumbled logs, Auntie had protected him.
She kept him from seeing his father’s mangled body under the unnatural stack of timbers. He still remembered the seriousness of her tone when she told him to stay in the wagon.
As each long mile stacked on top of the last swaying, bumpy mile, the dread grew. He couldn’t shake it, but refused to give it voice. It hung heavy in the coach.
Wallace took to riding up top with the driver; even his partner couldn’t muster his normally cheery banter in the midst of such gloom.
Awake again, Rose snuggled into his arm and held him tight, but she also had caught the morose mood and had very little to say. Charley sensed it, too; bless his little heart.
For the long ride and the brief stops along the way, he acted on his best behavior. Man, he loved his littlest partner. He’d hate it if Auntie didn’t get a chance to know the boy better.
A boy. She and Uncle Henry had waited so long for a son. He and Rebecca had pumped every bit of information Jean Paul could possibly give early in the trip, but he suddenly thought of an unasked question.
“Jean Paul, what did Auntie and Uncle name the baby?”
The creamy-coffee colored man shook his head and lifted his shoulders. “Don’t know. Not sure they had when I left, course the babe wasn’t even a full day old before Mister Henry sent me.”
Finally, the coach pulled into Clarksville. Getting the boxes and bags transferred to the buggy Jean Paul had come to town in gave Levi a respite, but the task led him to driving it out of town.
Too soon, the cloud returned. He put the team on a three mile-an-hour lope, with plans on the blacks galloping the last two miles in half that time.
He’d first learned about pacing on that trip to Jefferson when Auntie and Uncle fell in love. For a few miles, he relived those days.
He’d been so resentful of her hiring Henry to help, like he couldn’t handle things, but he and his Bitty Beck and Aunt Sue, too, would have been dead several times over if not for Henry Buckmeyer.
Were they all on borrowed time? Had these last twelve years been a gift from the Lord? He hated the thought of anything happening to Auntie.
He slapped the reins over the horses’ backs, desperate to see her smiling face and hear that she was all better. He wasn’t one to borrow trouble. So why all the fears and fretting? He was being silly.
“Ho, now. Get to it, boys.”
He slowed them enough to make the turn off the road onto his and Auntie’s land, then once across the smokehouse creek, urged them back into a run through the farm field.
The team flew past the pool he and Uncle had spent that whole summer digging with eight mules and two scoops. Man, he’d never worked so hard in his life.
He rounded the corner and urged the horses up the hill to the big house. Midst a cloud of dust, he brought the buggy to a stop. He jumped down and ran toward the house.
Laura sat in Auntie’s rocker on the front porch with two baby-sized bundles at her breasts. Halfway there, the girl pointed north. “Up there on the next rise.”
He took off running. Down the home hill then he jumped the creek and started back up. Nearing the top, he stopped.
For a breath, he didn’t see anything, then in the shadows of a huge oak fifty paces north, a scene he never wanted to witness burned into his forever memory.
Uncle Henry knelt by a newly dug grave.
Levi’s heart sank.
“Mama!” Rebecca’s scream broke his heart. She ran past him and didn’t stop until she reached her daddy. She fell down onto him, hugging his neck and sobbing. “No! No! She can’t be gone!”
Levi joined them. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Henry looked up, his eyes swollen and red. “She loved you two so much. She fought hard to hang on, but God love her, she got so weak.” He wiped away his tears.
“It isn’t right.” Levi shook his head. “I had such good news for her. How her prayers were answered. The Lord…. He saved my soul.”
His uncle stared at him for a few heartbeats smiling. “Must have been what she was talking about.”
“What? What did she say?”
Henry sniffed and wiped his nose. “Right before she passed on. She’d been out of it, talking to her mama like she was a little girl again. Then all of a sudden, she sat up straight in bed, all fine.
“Clear as ever, she said, ‘Oh, Levi, that’s so wonderful.’ Those were her last words. She laid back down and closed her eyes. Died with the sweetest smile on her face. Oh, how I love her smiles.” Henry nodded. “I think she knew.”
The news comforted Levi some, but his mother was still gone. He kneeled beside his uncle then placed his forehead on the fresh dug dirt. Tears flowed for the longest, then Henry stood and pulled him to his feet.
The man Levi counted as his father held both his shoulders firm, gave him a determined look. “Son, the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
THE END
(for now…)
Other Titles by Caryl McAdoo
Vow Unbrokena historical Christian (western adventure) romance from Howard Books, a division of Simon & Schuster; Book 1, a Texas Romance (In HEARTS STOLEN - Book 2 -Levi of VOW UNBROKEN is introduced.)
ISBN 978-1-4767-3551-1 / ebook 1-4767-3551-4
Susannah Baylor reluctantly hires Henry Buckmeyer in 1832 to help her along the Jefferson Trace, the hard stretch of land between her Texas farm and the cotton market, where she's determined to get a fair price for her crop. It's been a long, rough ten years and the widow's in danger of losing the land her husband and his brother left to her and the children, but she needs help to get both her wagons safely to Jefferson.
She knows Henry's reputation as a lay-about and is prepared for his insolence, but she never expects his good looks or irresistible, gentle manner. Soon they are entwined in a romantic relationship that only gets more complicated because Henry doesn't know God the way she does. Dangers arise on the trace--but none as difficult as the trial her heart is going through. Will Susannah and Henry's love overcome their differences?
And will she get her crop to market and sell it for enough to save her farm? In this heartening and adventurous tale, a young woman's fortitude, faith, and heart are put to the ultimate test.
(See 5-Star Review snippets in the front pages of Hearts Stolen)
Lady Luck’s a Loser a contemporary mature inspirational romance; Book 1, an Apple Orchard Romance
ISBN 978-0-6159-9574-8 / ebook 0-6159-9574-8
Marge Winters answers the ad for manager at a Bed & Breakfast placed by a wealthy widower seeking a new wife. W. G. Preston, trying to avoid
the dating game, hires eight diverse women to come live at the B&B and be themselves while he gets to know them.
He soon realizes he can’t take six months with all eight and devises a plan to eliminate one per month, leaving the decision to Lady Luck as he successfully has many times in his life.
The women compete to win his wedding ring. The widow grandmother Marge is witty and friendly, yet naive. Youngest, Vicki hides her enchanting vulnerability with a queenly persona. Audrey, a great listener and cook, can be quite moody. The cute Natalie has trouble making friends.
The beautiful Virginia harbors a secret, and energetic Holly lifts everyone’s spirits, but ruined her wholesome image with breast implants paid for with Preston’s signing bonus. Charlotte loves antiques, as did the first Mis’ess Preston, and Dorothy is quite a leader, but Preston isn’t looking for a manager. He wants a wife.
Who will win his proposal?
Lady Luck’s a Loser is an amusing character study that hooks readers through the depth provided to the cast, which enables the novel to avoid the pitfalls of How to Marry a Millionaire and The Bachelor. A difficult accomplishment, each of the key players can be distinguished from one another.
And coming in soon…
Hope Reborn,historical Christian ‘western adventure’ romance; Book 3, a Texas Romance
In 1850 Northeast Texas, a man’s hope is reborn proving God always has a plan if only His children will trust in Him. The widower never expects to love again, trudging through the daily motions of living and doing his best to minimize his children’s loss. Would he hurt so until he joined her?
New York novelist May Meriwether decides a heroic Texas Ranger will make a great love interest for her new dime novel’s heroine. Loving adventure—keeps her mind off her solitude—she sets out to the Lone Star State with her constant companion and confidant Chester in tow to find and interview the famed Texas Ranger Levi Baylor.
Having pushed dreams for a husband and children to the recesses of her heart, the self-professed old maid deems them dead, but meets a near-perfect widower and starts thinking there may yet be a chance for fulfilled dreams. Only his impenetrable, superstitious religious beliefs stand in the path to her falling head over heels, those and the love for his dead wife that still fills his heart. Would there ever be room for May there? And would he give up his crazy fanaticism over God?
