Rescuing Barnabas
(Christmas Rescue Series Book #11)
By
Elissa Strati
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
Rescuing Barnabas
COPYRIGHT
EDITION LICENSE NOTES
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1 – Looking Back—Barnabas
CHAPTER 2 – Looking Back—Dorothy
CHAPTER 3 – First Encounter
CHAPTER 4 – A New Beginning
CHAPTER 5 – Letters from Home
CHAPTER 6 – More Letters
CHAPTER 7 – Green River
CHAPTER 8 – History
CHAPTER 9 – Lightning
CHAPTER 10 – Dinner
CHAPTER 11 – Thunderbolt
CHAPTER 12 – The Pageant
CHAPTER 13 – Decisions
Abigail
Barnabas
Dorothy
On the Nature of Men
An Honest Discussion
CHAPTER 14 – A Christmas Wedding
Arrival of Guests
Christmas Eve
Farewells
CHAPTER 15 – Spring
AFTERWORD
PLEASE POST A REVIEW
https://www.Amazon.com/review/create-review?&asin=B08C37QW7G
CHRISTMAS RESCUE SERIES
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
DEDICATION
Dedicated to
Cheryl Wright
A very talented and creative Australian author
With a wonderful dry sense of humor
Who has graciously given of her time and herself
To mentor and guide me in my writing journey.
Thank you!
Rescuing Barnabas
(Christmas Rescue Book 11)
By
Elissa Strati
COPYRIGHT
Rescuing Barnabas (Christmas Rescue Book 11), Copyright © 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, Elissa Strati, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
~~~
EDITION LICENSE NOTES
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
~~~
Cover design by Black Widow Books, Virginia McKevitt, cover artist.
Series concept by Cheryl Wright.
PROLOGUE
The Civil War left an aftermath of destruction and disruption of lives. The war-torn southern states were largely occupied by carpetbaggers, and the loss of life and limbs and other lasting injuries left many families all over the country bereft and destitute.
Some men had developed a taste for war and devastation, especially in areas like Missouri and Kansas where roving marauders claiming affiliation with either side in the conflict had caused mayhem throughout the area even before the war had begun. The end of hostilities didn’t stop their raids.
Texans had longhorn cattle they were desperate to sell but Jayhawkers exacted their dues from herds driven through “their” territories. Farmers and ranchers also suffered at their hands. Into this ongoing conflict and postwar unrest rode Barnabas Marion Schuyler, coming to help out a friend.
CHAPTER 1 – Looking Back—Barnabas
Barnabas sat tiredly on his black stallion. He’d been riding for days and still had further to go. Mostly he avoided towns except when he needed supplies because he didn't want to have to deal with people. People asked questions and were always curious, even if just with their eyes.
The war was finally over and he’d gone home, but he didn’t belong there any more. Too much had changed, especially himself.
~~~
He was one of the many who had joined up out of patriotism at the start of the War Between the States. His older brother, Calvin, had wanted to come, too, but a childhood fall from a horse had left him with a limp.
His sweetheart, Sadie, had given him a ribbon as a token, then shyly kissed him goodbye and he’d whispered in her ear, “Y'all wait for me now, hear. I'll be back soon and we'll get married.”
She'd nodded her head and said, “Yes, Barnabas, I surely will.”
Most of the local farmers couldn't spare horses so the boys in his troop had walked to the nearest depot, about a day and a half away. Barnabas was tall and had an air of easy command, and all the fellas flocked to him. Along the way they’d elected him their Corporal. He was proud, touched, and honored that his friends thought that well of him.
They’d joined up with some other units and did some training. He’d caught onto everything pretty quickly and was a good teacher besides, so his unit was up to snuff pretty much as fast as could be while some of the other units struggled behind. Of course most of these boys already knew how to shoot, else they wouldn't have been able to put food on the table, but that was not the same as drilling and marching together and doing things as a team. And most of them had never even seen a bayonet much less learned to use one.
Barnabas shuddered, thinking about bayonets.
His boys had caught on pretty quickly, but the group next to theirs didn't have much of a fellow in charge so Barnabas took him aside and not only showed him what to do but told him how to show the others. Andy had looked up to him ever after, and when the officers came by looking to put folks in charge of larger units, Barnabas Schuyler’s name came up a number of times. So all of a sudden he was a Sergeant, and hadn't even been to war yet.
Fortunately, their first few engagements were mere skirmishes, letting the men get used to the sound of massed gunfire aimed at them. By the time they actually had a serious encounter they were somewhat seasoned and showed well, giving an excellent account of themselves. While war is never pleasant and action is never routine, the men had settled in and become proficient in the game of killing.
~~~
Then came the skirmish that Barnabas thought of as the Day of the Blades. The opposing forces had met at a meadow surrounded by trees, and most of the initial exchanges were pot shots taken by either side from the cover of the woods.
He had been discussing strategy with his lieutenant and preparing to move his men into formation to advance on the enemy when a stray bullet had plowed through Lieutenant Jones, who fell back against the division’s flag bearer. The lieutenant was dead before he hit the ground and the flag was following when Barnabas grabbed it, pulling the boy out from under and yelled, “Follow me!” He thrust the flag back at the bearer and began to run toward the frontlines, the boy struggling to keep up.
Troops were starting to advance from the other side and his own company had begun to fall back when he’d called out the order, “Fix bayonets!” and led the reckless charge into the meadow and against the oncoming soldiers.
The men nearest him, seeing their beloved Lieutenant fall, snapped their bayonets into place as ordered and, catching his berserker mood, charged into the fray with their Sergeant, straight at the enemy, with such ferocity, slashing and stabbing, yelling and pressing forward, that the gray-suited men fell back. The Confederates were utterl
y routed by the advancing horde.
After the battle, Corporal McNally, one of the better educated among the soldiers, commented, “My, but didn’t Sergeant Schuyler look just like Zeus thrusting his thunderbolts!” And the nickname stuck. His troops were proud, thereafter, to refer to him as Zeus.
Considering they had been totally face to face with the enemy, they’d suffered surprisingly few casualties themselves, although they’d inflicted quite a bit of damage on their opposition. The Colonel of the regiment had promoted Barnabas to Lieutenant at the end of the battle, and he’d received a commendation for his part in turning its tide.
By the time his troops were advancing on Gettysburg up in Pennsylvania, he had become a Captain and was no longer on foot. He now rode a beautiful black stallion he had acquired in Virginia, that had superb stamina and proved a worthy battle horse, neither starting from noise nor shying away from the smell of blood. In honor of his nickname, his men had started calling the horse Thunderbolt, and it stuck.
And it was at Gettysburg that he’d first met Charles Barnett from Green River, Kansas, the man he was now riding out to see.
CHAPTER 2 – Looking Back—Dorothy
Dorothy Marie Sevenoaks Cooper sat in front of the fireplace working on a dress for Mrs. Sackett. She still grieved her husband but had developed a serenity beyond the composure for which she had always been noted. Motherhood left little time for wallowing in her own sorrows.
She could probably have gotten by with the money she had, even rearing two daughters, but she enjoyed dressmaking. In fact, she was starting up in business in a small way, producing not mere dresses, but gowns for the ladies in town, just for the sheer pleasure of it. The payment was merely a nice tribute to her skill, she smiled to herself.
Most women could sew and many men as well, at least the occasional button or seam. But there was a big difference between mending and plain sewing versus trying to create a fashionable costume rather than a plain day dress for housework. Although she was more than happy to sew those, too. No reason one couldn't look chic doing housework!
Her mother had taught her how to drape fabric and create pleats, ruffles, and swags and how best to use ribbon and other fabrics and accessories to create the illusion of elegance.
She missed her mother.
She missed both her parents.
Fingers twisting busily through the fabric in her lap, she mused about her childhood.
~~~
Mrs. Henderson had always seemed old. Of course, all adults had seemed old when Dorothy was a child. The woman had probably only been in her thirties.
She had come to Green River as a teacher, but when she married her contract called for her to resign her position. The townsfolk decided this was ridiculous as she was the only one around who could teach. So she was kept on. As the town grew so did her classroom. Accommodations were made for her when she had her own children, and she reared three, seldom missing a day of school.
She also ran the Christmas Pageant that, along with Mrs. Henderson herself, had long become a local institution.
Dorothy was send to Mrs. Henderson the same year Tom Kenner, Reggie Cooper, Charles Barnett and Suzanne Smythe started school. One or two others were in their class in various years, allowing for the flexibility of a two-room schoolhouse, but the five of them became fast friends and found ways to spend time together even when school was not in session.
Fishing, swimming, riding, playing with a hoop or a ball, or just working together on chores. Each spent almost as much time at the homes of their friends as with each other.
Of course for the girls, especially as they grew older, their lives were more circumscribed, and they were expected to learn domestic arts. But on a small ranch or farm, everyone pitches in and learns all the parts, and their families were each first or second generation homesteaders. So the girls were as adept at animal husbandry and various farm chores as the boys. And Mrs. Barnett had insisted her boys learn to cook and sew, so they could fend for themselves as necessary. Naturally, Tom and Reggie didn’t want to be left out—that might have given Charlie bragging rights—and they could each do a tolerable seam, darn socks, or restore buttons. But it was agreed that Charlie was the best cook amongst them all—Suzanne and Dorothy made very good pies, but Charlie’s were great.
Reggie's dad was a doctor, so he lived in town. Although he could have walked to school, he convinced his parents to let him ride his horse as the other children did, so he would blend in better. That also gave him the after-school freedom to get involved in hi-jinx with Tom and Charlie and occasionally Suzanne and Dorothy. Joe Sackett, a year younger, occasionally joined them too. (It was Joe’s mother for whom she was making the dress, she mused.)
Knowing his son was helping out with chores at whatever house he was visiting on a given day, the doctor and his wife were perfectly content that he was pretty much staying out of trouble. The other parents understood that each of the children were to be treated as part of the pack if misbehavior became an issue. And they were children, so mischief did occur. But overall they were goodhearted and happy, and each looked back on his childhood as a very special time.
~~~
As they got older, Mrs. Henderson had them helping out with the younger children. Knowing Reggie was lazy in mathematics, she had him work with the second year children on the problems he should have learned the year before, and then kept him working with that same group as they all got older and involved in more complicated numbers.
One day he brought her an apple.
“Mrs. Henderson, you have convinced me that numbers are for more than counting pills into a bottle, and I no longer feel stupid because I needed to use my fingers to count.” And then he winked audaciously at her. “Now I’ve learned to use my toes as well so I can count higher,” he declaimed, playing to his audience behind him, which tittered appreciatively but somewhat nervously.
The class was relieved when she accepted the apple and, breaking into a laugh, swatted at him playfully. “Go sit down and get that Cicero translated for me by lunchtime.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’ve finally convinced my father I have no desire to become a doctor. Why, then, do I still need Latin?”
She looked at him seriously. “To become a well-rounded and educated man, you cannot learn too much. Every nugget of information you store in your brain will prove useful in one manner or another. You may not need a specific piece of trivia, but it will secure another bit of knowledge that will come in handy when you least expect it.”
He held her gaze, and then performed a bow. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he grinned unrepentantly. “I am bowing to your greater wisdom, O Teacher.”
And then he ducked back into his seat before she could swat him again. The woman was stronger than she looked.
~~~
They had quickly become accepted as a gang—see one and you’d likely see all—but they were generally well-mannered children (or any of the parents would have known the reason why not), and well-liked, so were usually greeted with smiles. Knowing Reggie’s latest dislike was Latin, Suzanne teasingly suggested, “We should call ourselves Quintus.”
Reggie rather liked the notion of a name for their little gang, but decided to show off a bit.
“Quintus means ‘fifth.’ Five would be quinctus or quinque. We could call ourselves cohors ex quinque.”
“Or Greek would be pente,” added Dorothy. Charles just raised his eyebrows at her.
“KWEEN-kway,” parodied Tom. “Here comes Queen Reggie!”
The idea of giving themselves a name was dropped, although others were occasionally overheard referring to them as “the Cohort.”
~~~
All of them were remarkably patient with the younger children, which surprised those with younger siblings, as there were certainly squabbles enough at home. Perhaps it was just that these weren’t their own family members and the rules of polite society held stronger sway. But it was Charles that was
the biggest wonder. He didn’t just tolerate the youngsters, he adored them and looked out for them. It was an easy enough example for the others to follow.
Dorothy commented to Reggie, “I wonder if he’s trying to make up to his younger brother.”
“But Willy’s dead! And it is hardly Charlie’s fault that he caught scarlet fever! Those travelers should have kept their sick baby isolated.”
“Reg, I don’t think they knew what was wrong until it was too late and Charlie’s ma had already brought the family in, trying to help. Didn’t your pa say it was another day before he figured out what was ailing the baby?”
“Yeah,” Reggie admitted. “But it didn’t seem fair that Willy should die and that stranger’s baby should live,” he added turning away his head to hide the moisture in his eyes.
Touching his arm gently, Dorothy whispered, “But then you’d have had two children dead.” She pressed her handkerchief into his hand and turned her back to give him privacy, as she raised her apron to wipe her own eyes.
~~~
That may have been when she started looking at Reg as more than a playmate.
CHAPTER 3 – First Encounter
The first time Barnabas had seen Charles Barnett, the big man was sitting on the ground cradling another officer and cajoling him not to die. A quick glance at the bullet torn body let Barnabas know the pleas were in vain, but he watched, compelled, as the dying man struggled to grasp the hand of his friend.
Raising his eyes, he wheezed, “Charlie, you're not just my cousin, but you are about the best friend I have ever had and you've always been there for me. Now I need you to be there for Dorothy and the kids. Young Reggie is going to need a father figure to teach him how to run the ranch, and those girls are going to need chaperones. Promise me you will take care of them.”
Charlie replied solemnly, “Reginald Cooper, we will rear those young'uns together, with you at Dorothy's side.”
Rescuing Barnabas Page 1
