Emma's Dream

by Kimberly Grist

  “I guess that means love will never await me,” Emma said as she entered the kitchen carrying a basket. “I've tried over and again to carve an apple in one strip and have never been able to do it.”

  Sadie elbowed Grace and gestured toward the broom in the corner.

  “It takes practice.” Grandma finished the strip and held it up for them to see.

  Taking the skin from her hand, Emma’s nose wrinkled, as she held it up for inspection. “Is that it? You just peel the apple?”

  “No of course not. Take the strip and throw it over your shoulder. When it falls to the ground, the initial of your intended will be revealed. Go ahead and throw it.” Tennessee made a pitching motion with her hands.

  “Here goes nothing,” Emma said tossing the peel behind her with a laugh.

  Four heads watched as the skin flew into the air and landed with a splat. They eagerly bent to study the formation which lay limply on the floor. “What does it mean when you can't read it,” Sadie asked.

  “Oh dear, that doesn’t look much like a letter, does it?” Grandma clucked her tongue.

  Grace picked up the strip and wrinkled her nose. "Maybe if we lay it out on the table,

  we can make it into an S for Scotty."

  Chapter 6

  November 6, 1875

  Dear God,

  I want to go work on the railroad. I would like to pull the whistle.

  Unexpectedly, Emma spent the next several days enjoying the companionship of Grandma Tennie. Things had fallen into a comfortable pattern as they shared responsibilities for taking care of Molly and the other household tasks. In the midst of the busy schedule, Emma found herself surprisingly content. The overall atmosphere, although busy, was peaceful.

  To her amazement, Tennessee acquired her father’s permission to meet Scotty for a birthday picnic without so much as a raised eyebrow. But perhaps the biggest surprise, Emma was learning to enjoy cooking.

  She found herself whistling as she placed apples, brown sugar, and cinnamon in the large saucepan, then covered it with water. Grandma had gone over the recipe with her again this morning. After the mixture came to a boil, she reduced the heat, then stirred as things simmered.

  The sweet smell of apples and cinnamon filled the kitchen. Emma used the potato masher to break up the apples into a chunky sauce. The only thing left to do was to spread the icing onto the cake.

  “Something sure smells good.” The twins’ father offered a wide grin. “Wait just a minute. Who are you, young lady?” Sam stroked his chin. “For a minute I thought you were my niece, Emma. That can’t be true. I’ve never known her to be in the kitchen when nothing is burning.”

  Reaching for a wooden spoon, Emma tapped the pot that contained the sweet concoction. “You’d better watch your mouth, mister, or else no cake for you.” Emma smiled as Sam dabbed a finger to taste a bit of the icing. “It’s hot,” she warned

  Sam stuffed his finger in his mouth then whistled. “It was a tad warm but worth it. Really, Emma, this is delicious. You should be proud of yourself.” Tilting Emma’s chin with a finger, Sam said, “your cheeks sure are pink, and you feel a little warm. Are you getting sick?”

  “I think it’s from the heat of the kitchen. I really am pleased with how things have turned out. Now, as long as I don’t drop the picnic basket on the way to the wagon, everything should be ideal.” A line formed between Emma’s brows. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “I have a saddle order I need to load in the wagon. Me and the girls will be around in a couple of hours to pick you and Tennessee up. I will put myself in charge of ensuring the picnic basket and especially the cake are loaded safely,” Sam offered.

  “Grandma Tennie would tell me not to borrow trouble. But it is so infrequent these days that I see Scotty, I want things to be perfect.” Emma nibbled on her bottom lip.

  The sound of the twins squealing caused Sam and Emma to peer out the screened door. “No need to borrow trouble when my girls are around.” Sam chuckled, then called out, “Girls, for goodness sakes, quit squealing and put the pig back in its pen.”

  The girls nodded. Sam and Emma watched and laughed softly together as a pig and several baby chicks followed the twins back toward the barnyard. “I know things in town have settled down some since the supply trains are back on schedule. Has Scotty spoken to his father about giving up his job as a deputy,” Sam asked.

  Tears filled her eyes. “Honestly the more time that goes by, I wonder if he ever will. He loves his parents so much and doesn’t want to disappoint them. His father enjoys working with him better than any other deputy he ever had. His mother told me herself how she worries less knowing they can depend on one other.”

  “I imagine most fathers dream of having their sons follow in their footsteps. I was so thankful when Adam and Uncle Horace invited me to come and take up residence here as part owner of the ranch. Even though it was a wonderful opportunity, I was ready to turn it down, for fear of disappointing my parents.” Sam stared out at the distance.

  Emma rested her hand on Sam’s arm. “I didn’t know you almost turned Pa and Uncle Horace down.”

  Sam turned to face Emma. “You know more than anybody how I struggle with reading. It was my pa who read the letter to me.” Sam blew out a breath. “I was shocked at his reaction. He was thrilled and said if he was a few years younger, he would head west himself.”

  A corner of Sam’s mouth turned up. “My mother cried for days. She wasn’t upset about my choice, just sad about the girls and me moving so far away. On the other hand, she was excited about us coming out here to join all of you.”

  Pivoting toward the door, Sam stared outside as Sadie and Grace skipped happily toward the house. “As a father, I understand both the joy and the pain of parenthood. What I want is for my girls to grow up to be good Christian women who follow the Lord’s lead. Though, I am more like my mother than I care to admit and pray wherever He leads them is close by.”

  Chapter 7

  November 7, 1875

  Dear God,

  I asked Molly if she would read from the New Testament. She said we would start tomorrow.

  The wagon veered onto a flat area near the river, and Emma couldn’t contain her grin when she spotted Scotty’s horse eating happily in a grassy area.

  Sam jumped down and reached to help Grandma Tennie and the girls out of the wagon. Goodness, it’s bright out here. Emma shaded her face with her hand and searched the area. Blinking until her eyes came into focus, she caught sight of Scotty. He was speaking to a beautiful young woman and a man holding a fishing pole.

  Why doesn’t he rush over? Emma’s eyebrows knitted together as she reached for the picnic basket and handed it to Sam. Taking it, Sam headed for a large rock perched onto another boulder creating a makeshift table. “This the right spot?” he asked.

  “Perfect, even better than I remembered,” Grandma Tennie exclaimed. “Girls, why don’t you get the tablecloth so we can set out dinner. That way your pa can eat, then go ahead to town to do his errand.”

  Sadie scowled. “Aren’t you going to play with us, Pa?”

  “After we eat, I need to run into town to ship my saddle order. But I will be back within an hour and spend some time with you girls. How does that sound?” Sam waggled his eyebrows, much to the delight of the girls.

  Emma glared in Scotty’s direction, then rested her hands on her hips. You would think he would want to see me as much as I want to see him. And I went to all this trouble for him. He acts as though he is oblivious to the fact I am here.

  “I am sure he will be right over. Dear.” Grandma Tennie threw the gingham cloth into the air with a flourish. Emma watched as it landed without wrinkle onto their makeshift table.

  “Wow, Grandma, do that again.” Grace cried as Sadie hopped on one foot and applauded.

  “Why don’t we go ahead and put everything out? Then perhaps our illustrious guest will join us,” Emma snapped.

  She folded her arms
across her chest and tapped her foot. Her face flushed as Sadie elbowed Grace and Tennessee’s eyebrows furrowed in Sam’s direction. He cleared his throat. “Maybe he is in the middle of an investigation. You want me to mosey over to see if I can tell what’s keeping him?”

  “I do not.” Emma glared in Scotty’s direction.

  Sam pushed his hat to the back of his head. The girls watched wide-eyed, and Grandma Tennie even seemed at a loss for words. “Investigation indeed. Those people don’t look like hardened criminals. He obviously knows we are here. We’ll give him five more minutes, and if he doesn’t acknowledge us, we’ll eat without him.”

  Whirling around, Emma pulled out a jug of lemonade and poured it into tin cups. After a few moments, she set out the plates.

  “I’ll put some on a plate and set it aside so when Scotty … is able, it will be ready,” Grandma Tennie suggested.

  I am not going to sit here and be the object of pity. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sam, maybe you are right, I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation. Perhaps he is involved in an investigation. I apologize for snapping at everyone. Why don’t we make the best of the situation and enjoy the picnic?”

  Emma peered down and clasped her hands in her lap. “Y’all go ahead and eat. I’ll wait for Scotty.” She pressed her handkerchief to her face and tried to focus on the compliments as Sam and Grandma Tennie praised every bite.

  “Pa, what does investigating mean?” Grace gazed toward the river.

  Sam rubbed his chin, then cleared his throat. “It has to do with finding out the facts about something or someone.”

  “The lady Scotty’s talking to looks like she is investigating him.” Sadie pointed her chicken leg toward the river.

  Sam made a choking sound and slapped his chest. Grandma Tennie sprang up and slapped his back with her open palm. Emma closed her eyes and began to sway. What is wrong with me? I feel light-headed as though I am about to faint. I never faint.

  Chapter 8

  November 8, 1875

  Dear God,

  Why wasn’t there a room ready for Jesus? You obviously knew he was coming…

  It’s so hot. Emma tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy. She lifted a hand to her aching head. Voices spoke in hushed tones in the background. Swallowing, she immediately regretted the impulse and placed her hand to her throat.

  “It’s about time you woke up, young lady,” someone said. A cold compress was placed on her head. She sighed in appreciation for its coolness. Why am I so tired?

  “Don’t open your eyes yet, relax. Let me close the drapes.” Another cold compress replaced the previous one. “All right dear, let’s see if we can get you sitting upright. I have some tea I want you to drink.” She felt her mouth twitch, “Grandma Tennie?”

  “That’s right. You’ve had everyone worried. But I knew between the two of us you would get through it. You are a strong woman, and you’ll be fine.”

  Emma removed the cloth from her head. Her eyes were heavy, but she could make out Grandma Tennie’s smiling face. “What happened?”

  “You’ve run a high fever for the last several days, which is to be expected with the measles. The doctor was concerned you might develop pneumonia, but I think we are past worrying about that. Just another week or two and you should be right as rain.”

  Emma tried to sit up, then abandoned the idea and fell back into her pillow. “Measles? No wonder I feel…What about everyone else? The girls, Molly?”

  Grandma Tennie patted her hand. “Everyone else has had the measles, even Sadie and Grace. Why you have never succumbed before is a mystery to me.”

  Another cold cloth was laid on her head, this one not quite as cool or wrung out. Water dripped down her neck. Emma forced one eye open. “You must be exhausted.”

  Grandma Tennie poured some syrup from a brown bottle into a large spoon. “Open wide.”

  Emma didn’t have the heart to argue. She shuddered as the brew slid down her throat. “That’s awful.”

  Chuckling, Grandma Tennie took another wet cloth and scubbed her face. “You must be feeling better if you have enough wits about you to complain.”

  Emma took control of the cloth and tried to dry her neck. “I feel as though I just got a bath. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “Even though the doctor posted the quarintine sign, I’ve had plenty of help. Scotty’s mother was here the first two days and did the cooking. She’s been by most every day since.”

  Emma’s eyebrows drew together, then she sat up in the bed. “Scotty’s birthday…he was with that woman…” She opened her mouth again but couldn’t find the strength to speak.

  “Now, now…Try not to upset yourself.” Soft hands guided her back on the pillow. “Oh my goodness, how did your pillow get so wet? Let me switch it out for another one.”

  Grandma Tennie propped Emma up, replaced the pillow, then handed her a cup of tepid tea. “Try to drink as much as you can. It will help you feel better. Then I’ll fill you in on things.”

  Nodding, she sipped the tea and suppressed a wince. “The last thing I remember is being at the river; we had everything set out for the picnic. But Scotty ignored us.” Emma touched her head. “I don’t remember anything else.”

  “You’ve had a high fever; you may remember later. But then again you may not.” Grandma Tennie moved a side chair closer to the bed and sat beside Emma. She tapped her finger along her lips. “Now, where do I begin?”

  Leaning against the pillows, Emma closed her eyes. “Whatever you do, please don’t start with once upon a time.”

  “What?” Grandma Tennie laughed, then patted her hand. “Of course not. But strange as it may seem, Sam’s hunch about an investigation proved true. Scotty was questioning those two at the river because they matched the description of some outlaws everyone has been on the lookout for.”

  “Outlaws?” Emma’s eyes flew open. “They certainly didn’t look anything of the sort. Why, the woman was lovely.” Emma closed her eyes again.

  Grandma Tennie wrung out another cloth and placed it on Emma’s eyes. “Yes, they say she is very beautiful and uses it to her advantage to get what she wants.”

  Chapter 9

  November 9, 1875

  Dear God,

  Molly began to read from the book of Matthew. We are only in Chapter 3, and already we heard about locust…

  Pacing in front of the sheriff’s office, Scotty let out a breath of relief when Daniel Lawrence approached carrying a bag and his rifle. Matching his friend’s grin, he was always surprised by the strength in the medium-sized farmer’s handshake. “I see you haven’t lost your grip or your nerve.”

  A muscle twitched in Daniel’s jaw, his brown eyes narrowed. “I got your message and came as quick as I could. What else can you tell me about the situation?”

  Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “Pa and the railroad detective are inside ready to give us their plan.” Scotty opened the door to the recently-constructed sandstone jailhouse, then followed Daniel inside.

  Sheriff Micah Scott stood and extended his hand. “Glad to see you, Daniel. When Special Agent Moore requested the talent of a marksman with a good head on his shoulders, I thought of you. The detective will give the details, but in short, the railroad has enlisted our help in preventing a train robbery.”

  Agent Andrew Moore perched on the side of the sheriff’s desk. “Since time is of the essence, I will be brief. We are working with a brother-and-sister, former outlaw team, turned bounty hunters. They have provided us with information we believe will not only prevent an assault on the railroad but will allow us to apprehend and arrest members of the most notorious and blood-thirsty gang around today.”

  Daniel took off his hat and wiped his brow. “You say this brother and sister team are ‘former’ outlaws? What makes you think you can trust them?”

  “It’s a good question. Although it would never hold up in court, I believe this same brother and si
ster participated in countless train and stage coach robberies but have now switched their loyalties. But as to whether we can trust them, we can’t be sure.”

  Special Agent Moore strode to the window and stood, clasping his hands behind his back before returning to face Scotty and Daniel. “Which is why we will proceed with caution. We won’t be working alone. The Texas Rangers are now assisting the marshal in this area to provide ground cover. They have already assembled multiple posses.

  “My assignment is to make sure those bandits never make it on board. I’m in the process of surrounding myself with marksmen I can trust. If we do our job as planned, we’ll drive the would-be robbers off, and the marshal and his men will take it from there.”

  Nodding slightly toward Scotty’s father, he continued. “The sheriff and I go way back. We worked together from the time I was a sixteen-year-old volunteer ranger up to a few years ago during the Fence-Cutting Wars.”

  Chuckling, Micah Scott pointed toward the detective. “We’d probably still be fighting that war if it wasn’t for Ira Aten and the work he did as an undercover ranch hand.”

  Holding his stomach, Agent Moore roared with laughter. “Isn’t that the truth? And to think I wasn’t in support of the idea. But it sure worked.”

  Slapping Scotty’s shoulder, his father explained. “You see, Ira had the idea to place dynamite bombs where the traffic was heavy and fence wires had been cut several times. He rigged it so once the top wire was cut, it would jerk a small line hidden under the grass to the cap, which would cause an explosion.”

  “Once the higher-ups caught wind of it, they ordered the bombs removed. Aten removed them alright.” His father offered him a wide grin. “From those few explosions, word spread quickly, and just the idea there might be bombs planted was enough to dissuade most fence cutters.”