Ruth, p.1
Ruth, page 1
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, places, characters, and events are products of the author’s imaginations, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
2021 by Caryl McAdoo
All rights reserved
First Edition May 3, 2021
Peaceable Publishing
Printed and bound in the United States of America
AISN : B08WRTB8QT
also available in paperback and large print
Coming soon in Audio!
Cover art by Randi Gammons
TABLE of CONTENTS
Dedication Acknowledgements
Chapter One Chapter Two
Chapter Three Chapter Four
Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty
Epilogue Sneak Peek - TESS
Sneak Peek – SKULLDUGGERY In The Sulphur River Bottoms
Coming Soon Titles / All Caryl’s Titles
Cross Timbers Romance Family Saga
Texas Romance Family Saga
Reach Out to the Author
Author Reaching out to You
Chapter One
Independence, Missouri, 1843
Pulling her purse’s drawstrings tight, Ruth sipped the coffee and softly bounced the sleeping Julia on her knees. Her gut rumbled, sick with worry. At her wits end, she questioned every aspect of her plan.
What had she been thinking?
How could she do it on her own?
Why had she ever even come?
It wasn’t anything like she’d heard. She had to eat something soon for the baby’s sake, but the thought of spending her last dollar sent shivers through her soul.
What was she going to do?
What if the weather turned sour?
The café door opened, and a young girl walked in. An odd sight, a child alone. Her shoulders back, straight and tall, the youngster scanned the full room.
“Excuse me, please, folks.” She spoke loud and strong enough the buzz dimmed. “Anyone know of a fresh goat or cow for sale?”
No one responded, and the diners turned back to their plates and their conversations. The din rose again. Forks and knives clinked against china, and the young lady’s gaze fell straight on Ruth who waved her over.
The closer the young lady got, the louder the desperation in the girl’s eyes screamed.
“Yes, ma’am? Do you know where I can get some milk?”
“What’s wrong, sugar?”
“It’s Noah, my baby brother. Our goat Lucy turned up dead this morning.”
“Lord, help me.” Logan bounced the baby on his shoulder and paced. “Shhhh, hush, Son. Can you just go to sleep for me?” He licked the tip of his little finger then touched his son’s lips as he’d seen Star do.
The baby took it and quieted, sucking hard, then wailed all the louder. Bless his heart.
“Sorry, Noah. Pa knows you’re hungry. Shhhh.” He had to do something.
The man from the next camp over stood, glared, then shook his head. “Help Star, Lord.” He stopped his pacing and bouncing and sat in Alice’s rocker.
Why did his wives keep dying?
Images of the two women swirled then melded into one blurry mental picture. The baby gasped several times then howled again.
“Hold on, little man. Sissy will be back soon with some breakfast.”
His own stomach growled, but no way, not before the baby.
Rocking, he scanned between the smattering of wagons and tents between him and town and caught sight of his girl darting between the campsites. Seemed a woman followed ten or so paces behind.
His daughter came around the last wagon then sprinted toward him. “Pa.” She filled her lungs then turned around and pointed. “Help her, Pa, Miss Ruth can…” She gasped more air. “Nurse Noah.” She drew in another lungful then held her hands out. “Hurry. That bag’s heavy.”
He handed over the baby boy then ran to meet the angel of mercy. He neared, and she dropped the carpet bag. “Sir.” The woman’s eyes shone with kindness. “Your daughter told me about your goat.”
“Yes, bless you for coming, ma’am.” He nodded toward her bag. “I’ll get that, and your baby, too, if you’d like.”
For a moment’s hesitation, she held fast to her baby then placed the child in the crook of his arm. Smiling, she hurried toward his camp.
By the time he arrived, the lady had settled into the rocker, and his son suckled contentedly beneath the linen towel she’d draped over her shoulder. Star stood beside her.
“Listen, Pa, you can hear him gulping.”
Sounded like the boy could barely swallow fast enough; Logan exhaled. “I can’t thank you enough, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Ruth.”
He set her bag on the ground next to her. “Of course. I’m Logan, Logan Manchester.”
She held her off arm out. “Here, I can take Julia.”
In a bit of a stupor, he looked to the lady then remembered the bundle in his arms. “Oh, your baby, sure.” He held the infant out.
Star stepped up. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course, sugar.”
Logan retreated to the other side of his wagon and let the ladies tend the babies, as it should be. He went to making biscuits then once he got the dutch oven in the coals, threw some fatback in the second pan. After getting another pot of coffee hanging over the fire, he stepped around the wagon.
His boy still nursed, but now so did the lady’s little one. What a sight. Thank God He gave mothers two breasts. “Hey, Sissy, give me a hand, please.”
Star, who stood by the lady, looked up. “Sure, Pa, what do you need?”
Walking back to his fire without answering, he squatted then turned over the fatback.
Soon, she joined him. “What do you need me to do?”
His finger wiggled her closer; she leaned in. “Did she tell you where her husband was? Why she’s carrying that heavy bag around?”
“No, sir.” His daughter shrugged. “I didn’t ask many questions once I found out she could nurse Noah. Just got her back here quick as I could.”
He nodded. “Check on the oxen, and I could use some more wood, but don’t go too far. The biscuits will be ready ’fore too long.”
“Yes, Pa.” She hurried off. He had hated sending her out that morning. Bless her willing and precious heart. He just didn’t have any options or know what else to do other than trust the Lord with her. Sure didn’t know what he’d do without his daughter.
The coffee vapors mixed with the wood’s smoke then mingled with the fatback’s sweet aroma, and his stomach went to fussing.
Strolling around to the other side of his wagon, he wiped his hands on his pants leg. “Ruth, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Names are hard for me, but once I get it, I’ll have it. Anyway, you hungry?”
“Yes, sir. Something to eat would be lovely. It’s amazing how nursing increases one’s appetite and thirst. Do you have some water?”
“Of course! Afraid I’m not much count as a cook, but I can definitely get you a cup of water. Breakfast will be edible.” He hurried toward the water barrel.
“Anything’s fine.”
He handed her the cup, brimming with water.
“Thank you. Bless you, sir.” After she gulped the cup empty, she pulled little Noah from the blanket. He’s done. Can you get him for me?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure can.” Logan wasn’t sure exactly how to get him, so he turned his head and held his hands out.
“It’s all right.” She chuckled. “Just pick him up.”
With his face warming, he did as told then backed away. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t want to be forward.”
“I understand, and thank you, but it’s fine.” She pointed with her free hand. “Best burp him before you lay him down.”
“Of course.” He put the baby on his shoulder and went to patting.
He’d learned the hard way about burping babies, but seemed when the angel of mercy arrived, all his babying skills vanished. “Ma’am, are you and your husband planning on going west with Captain Gantt?”
“Well, can’t really say exactly what Julia and I are going to do.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh, things haven’t worked out like I figured.”
The sizzle of pork frying pulled him to the other side of the wagon. Holding the baby with one hand, he tended the fatback with the other. A dash of coffee boiled out, and he swung the pot away from the fire.
“You want a cup now, or wait ’til you’re done there?” He hoped his voice was loud enough for her to hear.
She stood at the wagon’s end with her own baby draped over her shoulder. “Some Arbuckle now would be great. And if there’s a pallet somewhere I can lay Julia on, I’d be pleased to help with breakfast.”
Star returned with an armload of deadfall, and soon both babies snuggled together inside the wagon. In no time, Ruth handed him a plate full of food.
It sure was nice to be waited on, even if he had done most of the cooking. He dragged his only chair to the fireside. Ruth tried to give him the rocker, but he insisted she take it. Sitting with his ba ck against a wagon wheel suited him fine.
“You’re selling yourself short, Logan. These biscuits are mighty tasty.”
He nodded his thanks, but the way she’d wolfed them down, he wasn’t sure they’d been on her tongue long enough to know. “Kind of you, ma’am.”
“Well, you’re welcome, and thank you for the meal.” She rocked a bit then stopped and looked over at him. “I take it you’re planning on going west?”
“Well, we were, but now . . . I’m not sure.”
“Why’s that?”
“My son. I don’t know what I’m going to do. What if we’d been out on the trail? He would’ve starved.”
She leaned back and rocked some more. He wanted to chain her to the chair, make sure she was ready and able to nurse his boy next time the need arose, but he couldn’t do any such thing.
What was her situation? He sure wanted to know but didn’t want to pry.
“It’s none of my business really. But you were carrying that heavy bag around with no man to help your, and . . .” He let his words trail off, not really wanting to pry too deep.
“I don’t mind you asking.” She stopped again and looked him hard in his eyes. “Are you a believer, Mister Manchester?”
“Yes, I am. But it’s Logan, remember? Are you? A Christian, I mean.”
“Sorry. Logan.” She smiled. “And yes, I’m a Christian, have been since I was little.”
“I am, too, Miss Ruth. Pa got the preacher to baptize me in the creek ’fore we left.”
He looked to his daughter, gave her a grin, then focused back on the lady.
“Why are you asking?”
“Well, I used up the little bit of money I had getting to Independence. Heard a lady could get free passage to Oregon and a bit of coin to boot for some honest work along the way, but the few folks willing to take us on weren’t believers. That’s important to me.”
The muscles in his neck relaxed, a warmth spread from his heart to every extremity. He wanted to kiss this lady or dance a jig or both. “How does eight dollars a month and found sound?”
“What? Are you . . . offering me a job?”
“Yes, yes, ma’am.” He smiled, a deep down honest one, maybe the first since his second wife died and left him with a three-day-old baby. “I definitely am. I figure you’re a Godsend to be sure.”
“I’ve heard some are paying twelve.” She returned his smile, but he detected a bit of iron in her voice.
Couldn’t lose her, not now. “I could go eight and three bits.”
Rocking back, she appeared to be considering it. “Eleven wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”
Could he stand the extra dollars? He had to keep her for Noah’s sake. “Nine’s what I hear most are offering, but that’s for grown men; boys are getting half that or less.”
“And what are wet nurses going for these days?”
The lady had a mighty good point.
“How about ten? I can live with a sawbuck.”
Rocking forward, she extended her hand. “Deal. If you’ll throw in an extra pair of boots. Hear tell you need at least two for the trail, and the ones I’ve got aren’t exactly new.”
He stood but didn’t extend his hand. A worry kept his hand to his side.
“What about the baby’s father? Does he know you’re running off to Oregon with his baby girl?”
Ruth tried her best to hide her worry. How much should she tell him?
The man needed her, no doubt, and might just be her only ticket to Oregon. Maybe she’d bargained too hard. She hated lying, and the story she’d been passing around almost made it past her lips, but something about this man stopped that yarn cold.
“He knows.”
“Any chance he’s going to cause trouble?”
“No, sir. He’s back east.” She almost added with his wife but kept her peace and held back that bit of information. The man didn’t need to know about the scoundrel or his lying ways.
“You up to walking all the way to Oregon?”
“Yes, sir. I’m strong. Worked hard my whole life, so there’s no need to worry about me making the journey.”
“What do you have in your bag? I hate to ask, but if you need anything past boots, I need to factor that in.”
Chapter Two
Ruth didn’t much mind him asking; he was right. If she or Julia needed something, best to get it now, make it part of the deal.
“I’ve got three changes for me, more for the baby, some personal items, combs and such, the weight is mostly books. I’ve got my pap’s short gun, shot and powder, and a real nice folding knife that he always carried.”
He stuck his hand out. “Good enough then. Found, ten dollars a month, and a new pair of boots.”
The weight lifted off her chest and allowed Ruth a deep, cleansing breath. Thank God. Tears wet her eyes. He was so faithful. She stood and grasped his hand. Warmth spread from his fingers to the center of her chest.
How could that be? She didn’t even know the man.
Was she making another bad choice? Her heart said no. She smiled and shook.
“Deal.”
“Good.” He held her gaze, then after several quickened beats of her heart, he let go and looked away. “Star, you stay here and keep an eye on the babies. I need to get Ruth registered with Captain Gantt and see if we can find her some boots.”
“Sure, Pa.” She smiled. “Miss Ruth, did I hear you have some books? Any old ones I could borrow to read?”
“Of course, sugar. Pick yourself out one. Any of them you’d like.”
Real quick, the young lady chose Sense and Sensibility, then Ruth found herself walking next to Logan Manchester, going toward town. No baby, no heavy carpet bag, and no worries. It had happened so fast. And now, about to be signed up for what some had been calling the Great Migration of 1843.
She could hardly contain her relief and joy.
“How many are there going? Do you know?”
“Better than two hundred a week ago when I paid our passage, but more have come in every day since.”
“Lots of folks looking for a new beginning.”
“It’s amazing. I pray Oregon really is the Promised Land they claim.”
“Amen.” She stumbled over a root, and he caught her by the waist, held her until her balance righted. “My goodness, thank you, sir.”
“Sure.” He offered his elbow, and she rested her hand on it. A comforting sense of safety, of being protected, enveloped her. He smiled. “I hear tell the soil’s so fertile there about anything’ll grow, and that a warm breeze off the Pacific keeps the chill off.”
She’d heard the same, but probably not since it came from that lying Tom with nothing but sweet talk and a spoiler wife. At least in Oregon, she’d have a new start—a place where she and Julia wouldn’t be fodder for the gossips.
A hand patting hers pulled her from her regrets.
“Over there.” Logan pointed at a canvas tent with a small table set up in front. He guided her toward it then fished out two silver dollars without her having to ask.
The line was five deep, but it went fast, and she wrote her and Julia’s names on the registry. Didn’t seem right the baby costing the same, but she praised the Lord she wasn’t having to pay. Or was she?
Would the two dollars come out of her first month’s wages? Would it matter? No, not even a wink.
That morning, she had only despair for breakfast, and since, before dinner, she’d found food and a trip west. All because of having Julia. God had used her pregnancy—that which had seemed such a terrible turn at the time—for her good.
She loved the way His Word always came to pass.
After a bit of jawing with the Captain, Logan put his hand on her shoulder. “We best light a shuck. I don’t know about your girl, but my boy gets real nasty mouthed if he don’t eat regular.”
Praise the Lord, feeding both babies had emptied her, or his mention of nursing might have brought on an embarrassing leak. How could a man know though?
“Oh, Julia’s the same.”
He kept his arm across her back, his hand on her shoulder maybe a bit longer than necessary to get her going, but it felt nice, seemed right. She appreciated his perceived care and concern, him being a gentleman.
Once again, he offered his arm, and she couldn’t have been happier to take it.
