Meleah's Western - Part 28

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans,
Wow! What a week! Of course for those of you following my Home Fires blog, you know what I'm talking about. I have been trying to get my book off to the publisher for a while, but I couldn't seem to get the final proofing finished. My cousin, who was going to do it all, ended up much too busy with college, so a few other dear friends jumped in and finished it. I got the last of the proofed chapters on Tuesday, made the corrections, got, what I thought, were the last pages ready before I headed to bed. On Wednesday morning I was ready. (I thought) My brother was supposedly going to come help me upload things, but he was busy, and I hadn't read over the checklist. So, after spending all morning at the computer doing all the things I didn't know I needed to do, I was growing tired. I had to take break after lunch and teach a writing class. At least I wasn't staring at the computer. :) After that, I got back to work. J couldn't come then to help me upload, so, with great trembling (I'm not a computer person really), I pushed the button myself. Ah! I did it. All of it! I managed to upload everything to the publisher! I was praying, let me tell you. So far I haven't heard from them saying I have to redo anything. Pray that I won't!!! If I don't have to, I should have it at the SHEM conference.:)

Well, that was my exciting week. After all that, I really haven't written anything. I haven't even wanted to be on the computer much. But, I did have several Westerns ready, so I wasn't worried.:)

Thanks all you who voted on my blog.:) It was nice to find out that my rambling thoughts were being read. There have been times where I feel as though I'm talking to space. :) I do that anyway, so I don't know what difference it would make.

Oh, one other thing before I let you have the western. :) I wanted you to know that I have a tendency to not post the next part of the Western if I don't think anyone is interested. So, if you are "dying" to read the next part at anytime and I haven't posted it, try leaving a comment.:) (Can you tell I like comments?)

Part 28

“I could go up with Vin, an’ leave you an’ Sally ta take the other trail.”
Carson’s offer was rejected at once by a horrified Sally and an astonished Ty who added, “If’n anyone’s ta go, I’d do it. Been takin’ care a myself with them after me for more’n two years now. I reckon I could take on another.”
“No! Ty, I ain’t goin’ ta let ya do that. I’d go ‘long on that trail jest ta keep ya from goin’ alone. An’ don’t think I aim ta be left behind either.” Sally’s eyes flashed and her hand rested on the handle of her gun.
A hearty laugh filled the room. The sheriff shook his head with a grin. “Well, I don’t know what’s goin’ on except none of you seem content to go by the long trail. You could go with Vin, but I don’t know what he’s up to.”

“Excuse me, Sheriff,” Deputy Thompson broke in, “Look’s like you might have some company.”
Boots clumped on the hard floor as Sheriff Mead vacated his seat on the desk. In three strides he was at the door with his deputy looking down the street. “I wonder what they’re so riled up about.”
“Hard tellin’.”

At the news of company, Ty, Carson and Sally rose and prepared to depart, but the sheriff put up a hand. “Just wait a minute, if you would. Let me check this out first.”

“Sheriff!” a loud voice called as four or five tough looking men with pistols and rifles crowded around the porch before the two officers of the law.
“Well?” The quiet reply seemed to calm the men somewhat, for when the voice spoke again it was lower.
“Vin’s in town again, an’ this time we aim to see what he’s up to. He don’t know most of these men by sight, so we thought we’d try ta get him to take us over his trail.”
The sheriff shrugged. “Then why come to me? Vin’s probably at the saloon or stables.”
There was a moment of silence broken only by the clink of someone’s spurs out in the street. At last one of the men spoke quietly, “We’ll visit him next, Sheriff. First though, we wanted to find out what you think of our plan.”

Scowling every time he walked past her or glanced in her direction, grumbling about the extra work she would bring, the danger she would be in, the bad luck it would be to have her along, muttering dire predictions under his breath, Vin at last got his followers ready to head up the mountains through the little used and known trail, Sally, her brother and Carson included. He wasn’t sure just how it had all come about that his offer to guide two men had multiplied into nearly a dozen and even included that woman. He had eyed them all suspiciously but couldn’t well refuse. Now he took his place at the front of the line and they were off.
Ty, Carson and Sally found themselves at the tale end of the caravan. Sally’s chin was up and her eyes gave off sparks, though she refrained from speaking. Vin’s looks and manners hadn’t escaped her notice. Neither had they escaped Ty and Carson’s sharp eyes. Both men were on the alert for the slightest double crossing or crooked dealings from the leader. Ty especially stuck near his sister, ready to ward off any unwanted attention she might receive as the only female.

It wasn’t the most talkative group and hardly a word was spoken until they halted for the night. Vin directed that watchers would be stationed around the camp that night in case of wild animals.
“Huh!” Carson grunted in low tones to Ty and Sally. “He jest gave himself away. He ain’t no trapper nor hunter neither. Ya don’t post guard for animals, ya build a fire.”
Ty nodded.
“Perhaps there’s other dangers besides animals, an’ he ain’t wantin’ ta tell us,” Sally suggested as Carson moved away to converse in low tones to a few of the other men.
“Could be. But what?”
Glancing around before she replied, Sally noticed the preparations for an evening meal. “Robbers.”
“What?” Ty looked quizzically at his sister.
“I mean,” Sally began again, “What if there is no real threat from wild animals, but a group of outlaws live here and Vin brings their victims to them.”
“Then why post guards?”
“With this many people, perhaps it is to make it look like he was protecting them.”
His brows drawing together in deep thought, Ty mused in silence for a while. He was still deep in thought when the call to supper came. Moving over to the fire beside Sally, he sat down and accepted the cup of coffee handed him.
“Augh! Terrible!” Ty choked and spit out the mouthful of coffee. Coughing and nearly gagging on what he had swallowed, he threw the rest of the contents of his cup into the fire and demanded, “Who made this stuff?”
“I’ll have you know that I made that coffee and I know how to make the best coffee.” It was Vin.
The others were cautiously tasting it themselves and each declared it undrinkable. One by one they poured it out into the fire or tossed it over their shoulders into the woods.
“Isn’t there anyone who can make a decent cup?” one of the men questioned. “I know I can’t.”
“Sally,” Ty urged, “Ya make the coffee. Carson an’ I can vouch for ya.”
“Yep, go to it,” Carson added.
Thus urged, Sally went at once to work and in a few minutes had the pot washed out and new coffee made. Handing a steaming cup to Ty she waited until he had tasted it before serving the others.
It only needed Ty’s satisfied sigh to bring the cups out all around the fire. Sally was highly praised and made official coffee maker for the trip. Vin only glowered.

Hmm, what should I post next week?

Tender Reflections - Part 2

It is a beautiful morning all you FFFs!
Just the kind of morning you want to explore something new, have an adventure, clean up messes, read a good book with the windows open, sing all kinds of songs, swing on a swing, climb a tree, in other words, it feels like spring and I feel as though I am 10 years old! (Or maybe I just wish I felt that young.:)) There is hardly a cloud in the sky and the sun is rising ever higher. I heard a cardinal singing early this morning. Spring. The time of new beginnings. I am reminded of the verse: "Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto the things which are before, I press towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." (I don't know if I quoted it just right or not.)

Now, I don't know if any of you really read my ramblings at the beginning of each post, but if you do, let me know by casting your vote on the side poll. :)

I have been doing some writing. Not a whole lot, though I have several weeks worth of things to post. So, if you haven't read Meleah's Western for a while or maybe never at all, you might want to get to reading it because I have four parts written and a start of a fifth! And let me tell you, these characters certainly do things I had never dreamed of. I am also no longer able to write these Westerns on Sunday afternoons like I did at the beginning. Strange. Now I have to write them in the evenings. But that can be a good things because I get more written since there are more evenings than Sunday afternoons.:)

But, I've rambled enough. Here is the rest of the story from last week. What do you think of the end of it? Do you still like it? Thanks so much each of you who left a comment last week. That is the only way I know if a story was liked or not. Okay, okay, I'll stop!:)

Tender Reflections
Part 2

September 18,

Oh, I’m so excited! Justen and I went out to Tenderfield’s farm this morning and talked with Mr. Tenderfield. His farm is so lovely; ten acres of beautiful fields with rolling hills and a lovely little two story farm house. Out in the side yard is an enchanting little garden with a bubbling fountain. That is where we’ll get a few pictures taken. I told Mr. Tenderfield that years ago I had picked that garden as the place to take my wedding photos. But the wedding will be in the field by the orchard, or in the large, old barn if it rains.
We tell all our plans tonight. I wonder what the girls will think? I know Mom and Dad and Austen will be pleased, and I think Mr. and Mrs. Tenison will too. It is Britteny and Courteny I’m thinking of. Oh, well. I’ll let their brothers handle them.

September 19,

It is morning. A storm is threatening to break over the town as I write. Thankfully, there wasn’t a storm last night when Justen and I told the wedding plans. I think the girls were rather disappointed to learn it wasn’t going to be large and fancy; however, since the rest seemed to like the plans, they joined in. I did make them happy by telling them they both got to be in the wedding party and could make their own dresses. I don’t know what they would have done if I had decided to have them wear denim skirts.
Wow! There went the electricity.

September 21,

That was rather an abrupt ending. The power was off nearly all day because the storm wouldn’t let up long enough for the power company to fix things. I guess it isn’t a good idea to try messing around with electric wires in a storm.
Anyway, today is glorious! Austen and I walked over to Grouten Hall where we met Justen. Austen than hurried off. Did I mention that he is working as an assistant teacher in science as well as helping out with the football team? I never could understand science very well. Maybe I should have asked Austen for help more often.
Spent the morning shopping with Justen. Then I set the girls to work on their dresses. They are so excited. They’ll be the only bridesmaids. Like I said, things are simple.
Going to go sew my dress. Maybe I’ll get the girls to help me. But then again, perhaps I won’t.

October 1,

Been too busy to write. My dress is done. It was easy and simple. The girls finished theirs and showed them off at supper tonight. Everyone loved them.

October 2,

I wish I could write down all that Mr. Tenderfield has said. Justen and I went out to see him again to get some last minute things arranged.
He was showing us through the house (though not much has changed since I used to hang out there so many years ago) and suddenly he stopped and looked at me. “Yep,” he nodded. “You’ll make a real purty bride.”
I’m afraid I blushed, but Justen agreed with a smile as he gave my hand a squeeze.
“Yes, sir’ee! A right purty bride. Couldn’t be any purtier ‘en my wife was sixty-nine years ago. I wish she could’ve lived to see this. She always wanted a weddin’ here at the old farm, but no, all the child’ern wanted real stylish weddin’s. You know, big churches, lots of pomp an’ floof an’ heaps of people and flowers an’ this an’ that.”
I couldn’t hold back a smile at the thought that if our sisters had had their way, that is what our wedding would be like. “Mr. Tenderfield, we want you to come to the wedding, too, you know.” I didn’t know if he would, even if he has known me for so long.
Justen added to my plea and assured Mr. Tenderfield that even if he came in his overalls and boots, he was wanted. That seemed to please the old man, and he smiled broadly and said in his quaint, unpretentious way, “Well, now, if you’d really like me to come, I reckon I can find somethin’ clean at least. I’ll be shore an’ be there, the Good Lord willin’, in my best bib an’ tuckers.”

October 4,

Well, Journal, today is the last day I can sign myself Kristen Annette Burten. Tomorrow is the wedding! I’m so excited! This afternoon we have a “rehearsal” though I still don’t know why we need one. But I could care less. Mrs. Tenison, (I can’t wait to call her “Mom”) has been such a dear about the dinner. Justen told me that Courtteny begged to do something elaborate and grand, but Mrs. T said no. They are doing, if you can believe it, a hot dog roast with s’mores out at the farm! The only stipulation Justen told me he made was that no one was allowed to get hurt.
I didn’t tell you the colors of the wedding, did I? It is all fall. Austen and Dad are going to cut a few small branches of real leaves for me to add to my bouquet just before the wedding. The trees are breathtaking! Riotous gold, scarlet, russet and brown are everywhere. Britteny and I gathered arm loads of cattails and stuck them in vases for the picnic tables and for the girls to carry along with some bright flowers.
Yesterday, Austen and Justen moved the last of my things out to our house. It is only a few blocks away, and I can still walk to the football stadium and watch them practice if I want. Mom baked the wedding pies. She loves to bake, and she is so glad to be back at home instead of working that Dad is afraid she’ll bake us out of house and home.
I must end this. Dad and I are going to go for a walk and then it will be time to head to Tenderfield farm. I think I’d like to walk there with Dad. I’m going to go ask him if we can. Austen can drive the others.

October 15,

I’ve been Mrs. Tenison now for ten days and just now picked this little book up. We are all settled in our little home. But, I want to tell what happened only last week. We were still on our honeymoon when Justen’s cell phone rang. I only could hear one side of the conversation.
“Hello, . . . When did it happen? . . . He is? . . . Yes, of course . . . We’ll be there. Thanks.”
Turning to me, Justen put his arm around me. “That was Mom. Mr. Tenderfield had a heart attack yesterday and is in the hospital. They don’t think he’ll live much longer.”
I bit my lip. Not, Mr. Tenderfield!
“He was asking for us. I said we would come.”
“Of course! Can we go now?”
Justen nodded, and we were soon on our way.
At the hospital, we found Mr. Tenderfield just hanging on to life. His only son and two daughters were there, but he wanted to see us. How changed he looked. There was no color in his face and there were monitors and things around him. He seemed to be sleeping when we entered, but his son Denten touched him gently and his eyes opened. He smiled when I slipped my hand into his and whispered, “I wanted to say good-bye. You two may not have started out life together with a lot of fuss,” he smiled again, “but you have love. True love.”
His eyes closed, and his hand relaxed. He seemed to be slipping away when, with last effort he once more opened his eyes and whispered, “I’ll tell Lisette all about the wedding.” And then he was gone.
Oh, I can’t write the rest of the day. His funeral was on the tenth. Today Denten came by with news. The old Tenderfield farm has been left to us on the condition that we never change its name. Us? The farm? Denten assured us that none of the siblings wanted it. They were all completely content with where they were. Of course much of the old furnishings and things in the house went to the children, as it should be. I still can’t believe it is ours! I think I’ve cried more since I got married than the entire year before. Justen is so sweet about it all. He knows that old farm has held many tender memories. I don’t know when we will move. Probably not until spring.
Justen is almost ready. We are going to go walk to the farm and look around. I’ll show him all the places I loved as a child. I know when I get back there will be much to do. When I will write in you again, dear journal, I can’t say. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. There aren’t many pages left in here. But, however, I’m glad I’ve recorded what I have. And now, just because I want to write it out here, I’ll sign myself, Kristen Tenison.

The End

Tender Reflections - Part 1

I forgot it was posting day. I mean, I knew it was Friday, but I didn't think about the fact that I had to post this morning until I was almost ready to get on here. But don't worry, Friday Fiction Fans. I have things to post. In fact, I think I counted 5-6 weeks worth of stories that I have ready.:) That's a change isn't it. It isn't always that I have more than one Friday ready to post. And certainly not more than a month! Now, don't worry. I'm still writing.

I mentioned last week about our big snowstorm. Well, we got more snow. Things had started to melt somewhat and then on Wednesday of this week we got another 3-5 inches on top of everything else. It looks really pretty, but I know I'm ready for a little warmer weather. Next week is supposed to be in the 50's! I'll have to get outside.

For those of you interested in my hopefully soon to be published book, you can go read the newest update on it at Home Fires of the Great War.

This story was interesting to write. It didn't turn out exactly how I had thought (what story does?), but I wrote it. My instructions were
"Ten main characters, ten journal days, takes place in Tennessee, and is a tender story." Did you catch all those "TENs"? I had fun with them, but I really am longing to know what others think of it. So please, tell me.:)

Tender Reflections
by
Rebekah M.

September 14, 2000

I start this journal entry with a sigh. Why does this all have to be so stressful? I thought planing a wedding was supposed to be a happy and joyful occasion. Nothing seems to go right, for each of the girls has her own ideas about it. Oh, bother! I wish Justen were here. There is only so much I can tell him over the phone. If I’m persistent, will the girls finally believe that I don’t want to have a wedding “by the book” or to “do what everyone does”? I want to be different! I can pretend I’m happy only so long. If something doesn’t happen and soon, I might go mad! Poor Justen, to have to marry a mad woman. But this is what happened today:
Britteny got off the phone with one of the girls and came rushing over to me. “Kristen! Cathy just told me that at her sister’s friend’s cousin’s wedding they had ten flower girls and escorts! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Me, a little wearily: “If you want to spend that much money and trouble on it.”
Britteny with countenance changing into a frown: “I don’t think you want to spend any money. Why don’t you and Justen just elope?”
I sighed. “It’s sounding better and better all the time.”
Anyway, Britteny went off in disgust, and I came up here.

Poor Mom, she is so busy with secretarial work at the college (I’ll be glad when Mrs. Presten is well again), and Dad is busy with his classes, and-- I’m afraid I’m going to cry.
I do love this little college town of Tennascity, Tennessee. I’m glad we won’t be moving away from it. But I do wish I could be left to plan my own wedding in my own way with my own ideas!

September 15th,

Justen is back! I haven’t seen him yet, since he just got in this evening and it is after 9:00. Today was a better day. Dad had a free afternoon and took me for a walk. Everything about town is so quiet and unpretentious. I love this little town. Didn’t I say that yesterday? The trees are just beginning to change colors. Wouldn’t an autumn wedding when the trees are at their peak be just lovely? Dad and I had a pleasant walk. We stopped by Tenderfield farm and visited with Mr. Tenderfield a few minutes. He’s been lonely since his wife died. The farm is just as pretty as it ever was. I remember going there to play in every season, and each one is beautiful. It was so nice to get to walk with Dad all by my self. Towards the end, Dad said, “Kris, make sure your wedding is what you and Justen want. After all, it is yours and Justen’s day.”
I only had time to give him a kiss and whisper “Thank you,” before he had to rush off for his next class.
When I got home, I found Justen’s sister Courteny visiting Britteny. Of course they were talking weddings, but they didn’t really notice me, and I didn’t stay to visit.
At supper, Dad kept us all laughing by telling stories from class. I had no idea that teaching history and literature at a college could be so humorous.
But it is late, I think I will go to bed.

September 17,

I know I didn’t write yesterday, so I will try to tell it all now. It began with a headache. A real one. I woke up with it and by lunch time I was feeling pretty down. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were both gone and so Britteny and I ate together. Usually we have no problems, but today all Britteny wanted to talk about was weddings. I managed to listen to her chatter without losing it, but after lunch when a group of girls came by and began talking weddings, I left. I just walked out of the living room, where they were gathered with wedding books and magazines, through the kitchen and out the back door. I kept walking until I reached the football stadium. It’s my favorite place to go and think. Old Mr. Mortensen, who tends the grounds, was busy on the other side of the field, so I just climbed the rows and rows of seats until I decided to sit down.

All around me was quiet. Blessed quiet. A few birds were singing, but no voices. I began to relax and let the soothing balm of sunshine and quiet calm my throbbing head and taunt nerves. That is when I suddenly realized that I had forgotten my cell phone! What if Justen called? I groaned. There was no way I wanted to go back to the house with all those girls.
Wearily leaning my head in my hands, I was debating about the pros and cons of going back or staying when a voice above me asked, “Is this seat taken?”
I looked up. “Justen!” He sat down with a smile, and I burst into tears.
I know, Journal, it wasn’t a very nice way to greet him, but I couldn’t help it.
He put his arm around my shoulders and said, “I can go away again if you’d rather be alone.”
“Don’t you dare!” I replied giving him a watery smile. “How did you know I was here? Did you try to call? Were all the girls still at the house? And were they still planning our wedding?”
Justen laughed. “I did try calling, but got no answer, so I just came over with Courteny. We met Austen coming home, and when I didn’t find you home, he suggested I try here. Yes, the girls were still there. I left Courteny with them. I didn’t know they were planning our wedding. But they had all kinds of books and magazines about weddings everywhere. Any other questions you want answered before I ask some?”
I shook my head.
“Then it is my turn. Are you all right?”
I nodded.
“Why’d you come out here without your cell phone and leave the gaggle of giggling girls?” He spoke the last with a grin. I think he already knew the answer to that one.
“I just forgot my cell.”
“And the girls?”
I hesitated. Should I really make an issue of it all?
“Come on,” he said quite tenderly, “what is really bothering you?”
Looking out across the football field, I drew a deep breath. “I’m tired of other people planning our wedding. I want us to plan it, together. And I don’t want to do things just because “they” do them. I want to be myself.”
“All right. Let’s plan it. Now.”
I looked up in astonishment. “What?”
“I said, let’s plan the wedding right now. Here’s my little notebook. You can write ten times smaller than my scrawl, so it might do. And,” he felt around in his pocket. “I can’t find my pen.”
By then I was ready to laugh. “Oh, I have one on my knife.”
“So you do. Then we’re set. What do we plan first? I’ve never planned a wedding before.”
That is when the fun started. We really did plan the wedding. The whole thing! We picked the place and it wasn’t at a church! I’ve always secretly dreamed of having my wedding there, but since we don’t know for sure if we can, I won’t mention where yet. We are going to drive out tomorrow and see about it. Of course we had to check the dates with our parents, but we planned everything else. Who would stand up with us, what they would wear, what we would eat and what colors the wedding would be.
Intense though that planning was, it was fun. We didn’t even look at a single magazine or get on the Internet to do it.
Hand in hand we headed home as the sun was sinking. “Will you have to leave as soon as we get home?” I questioned, hoping he would be there when it was discovered what we had done.
“Nope, the folks are coming over for dinner. In fact, I think Mom said something about her making supper since your mom is working.”

It was around the supper table that night with all nine of us that we told. Justen called for everyone’s attention and began to talk. First he checked the date. It worked! Then he merely said we had almost all the wedding plans finalized. Only a few things remained which we would attend to soon. That was all he would say. Courteny and Britteny were dying to know all the details, but Justen pretended he didn’t hear their pleas

That was yesterday. We were going to go today to see about holding the wedding at that special place, but it was storming, so we decided to wait. Justen won’t let me tell Britteny anything until it is all decided. I don’t know what she would have done if Austen hadn’t sided with us. He told her it was our wedding.

To hear what happened next, come back next Friday.

The Things I'm Going To Do

Go play in the snow!
Well, FFFs, that is not exactly how I was going to start this post, but it sounds like fun, don't you think? Some friends are coming over to go sledding later this morning. Hopefully there will be snow, since the last time we tried to sled, the top of the hill was pretty much barren of snow.:(

This time there is lots of snow. Our official weather count said we got 16" and for a place that usually gets 2-5" that is a LOT. The few times we've gotten 12" of snow, it has nearly melted by evening or the next day. Not this time. When the storm hit us Tuesday morning, so did the cold. Our area was called to be in emergency state. People were told to stay home. Not everyone did though. There is still a car stuck in the snow in the road near us.

But be that as it may, I do have something to post. Didn't do a lot of writing this week, however, I did finish the longer short story, but I'm saving that until next week. I can tell I shouldn't post that many Westerns in a row. No one reads the second one. At least there aren't any comments. Maybe I should only post a Western every other week. Hmmm. I'll have to think about that.

This poem is one of the spur-of-the-moment poems. I started singing a slightly similar version one night with a chorus of "I'm going to do all the things I've never done before." Mom said I should write it into a poem. So I did. I sent it to a friend and Mrs. L said, "I LOVE it!!!!!!!"
I hope you do, too. Anyone want to go with me?

The Things I’m Going to Do
by
Rebekah M.

I’m going to ski down a hill on skis,
Glide across the ice on skates;
I’m going to drive a great big tractor
and swing on a few old gates.

I’m going to shoot a rifle
And tote a pocket gun;
I’m going to hike a mountain
and lie out in the sun.

I’m going to ride on horse back,
I’m going to fly a plane;
Going to soar in an air balloon
And travel far by train.

I’m going to round up cattle,
Act in a Shakespeare play;
I’m going to visit the opera,
And I’m going to cut some hay.

I’m going to visit all fifty states,
And meet a president;
I’m going to explore a ghost town
And sleep out in a tent.

I’m going to teach in China,
Stop by Timbuktu;
I’m going to climb the Alps,
And visit Lafayette’s tomb.

I’m going to splash in an ocean,
Build a real igloo;
I’m going to feed an elephant,
And ride a camel or two.

I’m going to climb Sears tower,
Touch the Statue of Liberty;
I’m going to cross the Golden Gate Bridge
And tour Washington D. C.

I’m going to visit West Point,
Give Annapolis a look;
I’m going to run a newspaper
And publish many books.

I’m going to conduct a symphony,
Enter a county fair;
Give a rousing speech on Broadway
And find a bird that’s rare.

I’m going to visit some Indians,
Sing a solo on TV;
I’m going to nanny for quadruplets
And uncover a mystery.

I’m going to be awfully busy,
And awfully old for sure
Before I could ever do these things
I’ve never done before.

So, I think I’ll stick with dreaming,
And reading books instead;
At least I will for the present
And travel in my head.

Meleah's Western - Part 27

Welcome back Fabulous Friday Fiction Fans!
Can you believe it is Friday already? In some ways it feels as though I just posted, yet it others, I feel as though I must have skipped a week. I really haven't gotten a thing written since I posted last week. I was visiting one of my "heart sisters" and having a wonderful time. There was no time for writing even if I had brought NEO (which I didn't).:) I tried writing the other evening, but having smashed my pinky just a day or so before, it made it rather difficult. (I never knew how much I use that little finger.:)) I couldn't write last night since I was babysitting the kiddos.:) And tonight is "game night" at some friends', so I'll be gone again. However, I really am hoping to get back into writing in the evenings. I have a short story (which is really longer than short) that I'm half-way done with. I'd like to get that finished. Then of course there is the Western.
Did you realize that today marks that third Western to be posted in a month?! That is a record! Maybe one month I'll just post Meleah's Western. How would you like that? I'd have to see if I could get them to keep on going.:)
But I'll stop. I know you are longing to read this Western. Enjoy it! (And just for your information, no, I don't know what is going to happen next.)

Part 27

“You a stranger ‘round these parts?”
“What if I am?” Ty boldly challenged the barkeeper.
The man behind the counter shrugged. “Figured ya must be not ta know Vin.”
“What about him?” Ty was determined to keep the conversation from getting sidetracked.
“He’s a slippery sort a snake. Ain’t never sure jest what he’s up to. I heard the sheriff’s been keepin’ an eye on him now he’s back in town.”
“Where’s he been?”
“Mountains.”
“Ever hear tell of a mountain lion bigger’n ever seen ‘fore and meaner ‘an ten she bears?”
Suddenly the bartender straightened up. After aother quick glance about the room he leaned back down and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I ain’t jest heard about it, I done see it! It’s the most awfullest bigg’st fiercest cat anywheres. I never want to see the likes of it again!”
For a moment Ty stared before him, thinking. This man claimed to have seen the mountain lion, but he was a saloon man, how could he have? It wasn’t likely that he had gone out into the mountains with this Vin. “Where’d ya see this cat?”
“At a house on the edge a town. It had come down from the mountains, and the sight was enough to turn yer legs to jelly.”
Ty nodded and stood up. “Thanks.”
It was all he said, but the way he said it caused the man to wish he hadn’t told so much and he muttered, “Vin, you fool, get out of town an’ don’t mess with him.”
Ty took no more notice of the man than if he had suddenly vanished as he stood for a few seconds glancing about the half empty room, but his quick ears had heard the muttered words, low though they were. With a quick straightening of his broad shoulders, Ty strode out of the saloon to rejoin Carson and Sally.

“What’d ya find out,” Carson queried as Ty, having glanced first up and then down the street, turned his steps to a small building not far away.
“Ain’t sure. Let’s go have us a talk with the sheriff.”
Carson nodded while Sally, who had grown warm in the sun, flung back her shawl revealing her two holstered six-shooters.
Ty noticed and chuckled. “I don’t reckon Vin would ‘ave said what he did ifn’t she’d a shown her guns.”
“Then I should have shown ‘em. I ain’t a coward.” Sally frowned. The man’s words still rankled her spirits.
Ty attempted to soothe her. “No, ya ain’t. I reckon if’n ya made the attempt ta kill that legend of a mountain lion, ya’d do it ‘fore three years was up.”

No more talking was done then for they had reached the town jail. The sheriff, along with his deputy, was leaning back against the side of the building watching the trio approach. Both men touched their hats to Sally as they reached them.
“Howdy, folks,” the sheriff greeted in a quiet, pleasant voice. “Can I help you?”
“I reckon so,” Ty spoke up. “We’re lookin’ ta find out about a man who calls himself Vin.”
The sheriff and his deputy exchanged glances before the sheriff replied, “I just might be able to help at that. I’m Sheriff Mead and this is my deputy Griffin Thompson.”
“Ty Elliot, my sister Sally and friend Bob Carson.”
“Won’t you three come in where we can talk undisturbed.” And Sheriff Mead led the way inside.
Inside was a room which, by all appearances, was the sheriff’s office and back behind that, in another room were the jail cells. No one was in them, however, and Sheriff Mead bade his visitors be seated while he perched himself on the corner of his desk. “Now,” he began, “you were askin’ about Vin.”
Carson and Ty nodded.
Crossing his arms, kicking one heel of his boots against the desk leg, glancing out the window into the street, Sheriff Mead cleared his throat. “I can tell you about him. At leas, all I know. Griff can fill in anything I miss. Where Vin came from, no one seems to know. He showed up here, oh, I’d say maybe six years ago. Doesn’t hang around the town much. Claims to be a trapper and guide. I locked him up a few times for saloon brawls but, though he seems rather suspicious, we’ve never been able to pin anything on him. Last year he offered to lead a couple of men to Fort Laramie through the shorter trail. They went with him and we never heard of them again. Vin won’t talk about it, which has several of us here in town mighty alert for dirty work.”
“So there is another trail?” Ty cut in.
“Oh, yes. Been over it myself a time or two. It is a shorter way, but so downright narrow in places that only stout hearts should venture.”
“What about the mountain lion that’s bigger ‘an any ever seen ‘fore and meaner ‘an ten she bears?”
A hearty chuckle from Mead and Thompson confirmed Ty’s suspicions.
“There’s a mountain cat all right, but each tale I hear it grows bigger and meaner.”
Carson turned to Griff who had just spoken and asked, “Then why’s Vin sayin’ he’s been after this here cat three years an’ ain’t got it yet?”
Deputy Thompson shook his head and shifted his position in the doorway. “That’s one of the questionable things ‘bout him.”
“We’d round up a posse to find out if we had something to go on. As it is, we sit here and wonder.”
“I’d like ta help ya out, Sheriff, since this man seems so unusual, but I got my sister an’ wouldn’t want ta put her in no danger.”
“I can defend myself if’n I have to, Ty Elliot. Don’t forget I can match ya at a draw any day an’ shoot jest as straight.”
The sheriff nodded at her guns, “If you carry those around, I reckon you know how to use them.”

Questions?

Meleah's Western - part 26

Good Morning FFFs,
There is still snow on the ground here from yesterday's snowfall, but not much on the sledding hill. Some friends and I decided to go sledding yesterday, but the hill is a south/west facing hill and most of the snow was already gone. Probably partly from the wind. So much for sledding. Anyone have a great big hill with lots of snow I can go sledding on? I love sledding even if I did break my arm doing it once. But that is another story which isn't very exciting.:)
A friend mentioned this week that she couldn't imagine just sitting down and writing a story. She said all she would be able to write is conversation. I'm not sure how I write all the details and everything, but it sure is fun!
I've gotten some writing in these evenings. Sometimes it is difficult to decide what to write. If you have given me instructions for a story, I will get to it. I promise. I'm just not sure when.:)

But, since Hannah did request that for two weeks I post Meleah's Western, I'll delay no longer. Enjoy! And part 27 will be up next week so come back.

Part 26

Carson drew a long breath before he continued. “Sally, that picture ya got in that there locket is jest like yer sister’s goin’ ta be lookin’ right ‘bout now. I’d bet my last bullet on it.”
Drawing the locket out of her dress, Sally gazed at the face inside. It was a sweet face that seemed to look back at her, one that wore an expression of gentleness. Kind eyes with just the hint of a smile about them, under a perky little hat with feathers, seemed to match the bright smile of the full lips.
No one spoke as Ty also looked long at their mother’s face as it hung around Sally’s neck. “Well,” Ty spoke at last. “I reckon perhaps we can find her after all.”

Two days later, Carson, Ty and Sally found themselves at a crossroads in their journey. They had passed the night in the only hotel of Rock Valley which stood at the foot of the pass leading to the other side of the mountain range and Fort Laramie. A tall, rough looking, dark bearded man, having heard them mention where they were headed, now offered his services as guide for a shorter, though less traveled, trail.
“I know the trail. It’ll take two days off yer travels.”
“How traveled is it?” Carson questioned shrewdly, wondering if the guide was being honest.
“Well, not many travel it at all. Fact is, not many know of it.”
“And why should we follow it ‘stead of the traveled one?”
“It’s lots quicker. But,” the man put in, glancing over at Sally. “You are planin’ on comin’ back through here ain’t ya?”
Ty spoke up suspiciously, “Why?”
“The trail is a might dangerous, especially fer a lady. It’d be best if’n ya left her,” and he nodded in Sally’s direction, “here till ya returned.”
Ty’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” was all he asked, but he was roused. What was this man trying to hide? Did he really know a trail or was it just a trick? And why did he want Sally to stay behind?
Having heard what the man said, Sally moved up beside her brother, her eyes flashing at the very idea of being left behind.
“Well,” the man began and then hesitated, evidently a little embarrassed by Sally joining the group. “Like I said, it’s rather dangerous. An’ well, no offense ma’am, it ain’t safe fer one who can’t hold his own to defend himself should we be needin’ it.”
“I’ll have ya know, mister, that I can shoot jest as well as you can.” Sally fairly bristled with indignation.
“Well, that ain’t all exactly, ma’am,” he began, somewhat flustered.
The man’s evident hesitation was causing both Ty and Carson doubts about the man’s honesty and purpose. “Then get on with the rest,” ordered Carson. “We’re wastin’ time.”
“Well, like I said, it’s dangerous an’ ain’t well used. But it’s quicker. Oh yes, two whole days quicker, but there’s a few places that the trail goes right along the cliff an’ ain’t much more space than a horse with a full load. An’ . . .” The man paused and his eyes became hard. “There’s a mountain lion roamin’ the trail. Larger ‘an any ever seen ‘fore an’ meaner ‘an ten she bears. I been tryin’ ta kill ‘im fer nigh upon three years. An’ I aim ta get ‘im, if’n it’s the last thing I do.”
Sally turned slightly pale at the mention of a mountain lion. Gladly would she have pleaded then and there to go the other way even if it took a week longer, had not the man been looking at her with his cold, dark eyes. Was he trying to scare her into remaining in town?
Ty wondered the same thing, for his keen eyes and ears thought they detected a cunningly devised tall tale. There might be some truth to it, however, and Ty made a promise to himself that he would find out. Now he only remarked, “Seems like a mighty rash offer ta lead us over this trail with a wild cat so dangerous ‘bout.”
“Well, I figured on goin’ myself,” protested the man indignantly, “but when I knew you were headin’ that way, I thinks ta myself, ‘Vin, three guns is better’n one an’ ya might get ‘im that a way.’ An’ so I jest offered.”
“Much obliged,” Carson grunted. “Give us time ta sleep on it.”
“Oh sure,” the man became suddenly very polite. “Ya jest talk it over. I reckon ya’ll figure out I was right ‘bout leavin’ her here till ya return.” With that, the man bowed to Sally and strode off down the street with a swagger in his steps.

“Ty, ya ain’t goin’ ta do it, are ya? I ain’t goin’ ta stay here! I’d rather--” Sally didn’t finish for Ty silenced her.”
“Hush! This ain’t the place for that. Let’s go, Carson. I reckon I know a skunk when I smell him.”
Silenced, but still ruffled, Sally followed her brother down the street towards the hotel. She noticed his easy stride and thought of how at home Ty was in the saddle as well as out of it. It was Carson who appeared slightly out of place.
“Never did like these here fancy towns,” he grumbled.

Before the trio reached the hotel, Ty paused and crossing the street, entered a saloon. Sally gasped inwardly but then realized that Ty was only trying to find some things out. With a fast beating heart, she waited with Carson on the porch wondering what Ty would discover.

Striding up to the counter, Ty leaned his elbow on it and eyed the bartender.
“What can I get ya?” the ba tender asked looking casually at him.
“Some information,” Ty replied coolly without moving.
The man glanced around before leaning down to Ty’s level. “What kind of information?” The man had lowered his voice.
“What do ya know about a man who calls himself ‘Vin’?”

Any ideas for me?

Books and Total

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans,
Last Friday I was hoping for snow. We got some on Monday. It snowed almost all day though we only ended up with about 2 inches at the most. It has been so cold that we still have some on the ground, however, I heard it is supposed to warm up, so it will all melt.

I have written this week and enjoyed it. It is nice to get back into writing. And, this coming Wednesday starts Writing Classes again! I can't wait.
Also this week, Mom and I counted books. That is always fun and interesting. We had counted them in July and were shocked at the number. That is when Mom began going through and getting rid of some. Mostly the ones we got rid of were ones I skimmed and told her weren't worth saving, or ones she looked at and decided she would probably never read and I wasn't interested in. It seemed as though we were getting rid of books all the time. At one point, I remember saying, "Mom, if we keep getting rid of books, we will have the same number as last January when we count them." :)
Well, as I said, we counted them.
And the grand total, not counting cookbooks, hymn books or song books, was . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
*Gulp*
. . .
. . .
*I didn't know it would be THIS many*
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
5,215!
I'm in shock! If you weren't counting, that is nearly 1,000 more books than last year! In July, when we counted, we had 5,000. That was 800 books in six months! After we counted them this time, Mom said to Dad, "I'm sorry, I tried. But it is really fun.":) And I agree. I love books. It's a good thing since I added about 90 book to my shelves.
Here are a few breakdowns for your enjoyment.
World History - 375
American History - 513
Christian Biographies - 206
Children's books - 548
And don't forget, these are not counting the 113 books that were checked out at the time.
No, we are not banning more books. In fact, we have three coming from PaperBack Swap.:)

Hannah, you are the closest, though you were about 400 off, so what should I post the next two weeks? Let me know soon so I can get it written.

Now for a poem I wrote last night just for you to enjoy today.

Books

Books aplenty, books galore,
My favorite place is a used book store.

Books of world history,
Books of missions or mystery,

Books of travel, books of prose,
Books smell better than a fresh picked rose.

Books of ancient tales of yore,
Books more modern by the score.

Books in blue and books in red,
Books of animals long since dead.

Books for children, books for teens,
Books for old or the in-betweens.

Books in that room, books in this,
Books on those shelves belong to Sis.

Mom has her books here and there,
In fact, Mom's books are everywhere!

My shelves are crowded with most of my books,
The rest I squeeze in many odd nooks.

As I said before, there are books galore,
But still I love a used book store.

Stop by to read some time.