Larkson/ Wish upon a shining star
Copyright (c) 2007
PROLOGUE
DECEMBER 17TH 1864
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
Caitlin Rose stood with her tiny pink nose pressed against the windowpane. She watched snow flakes fall gently to the ground through the small circles left behind from her warm breath against the frosty glass. Her mama told her Christmas would be here in just another week; she couldn’t wait. Food, they would have a real goose. They had hidden the goose well, and been saving it just for Christmas dinner.
Papa was going to be here, too. It had been such a very long time since she had seen her papa. She didn’t even remember his face or his voice anymore. He had gone off to fight the bad men in the north over two years ago and not come home since. One week, just one more week and she would get to see her papa and eat a fat goose. She couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be hungry.
The sound of voices drew Caitlin from the window and toward the parlor. Mama was talking with Zeke, one of the few plantation workers left. She sounded so worried. Rounding the corner of the room, and peeking around the doorway, Caitlin watched as her mama paced the floor of the parlor.
“What are we going to do?”
Ezekiel hung his weather worn head. “I don’t know, Missy Rosemary. All I’s know is them Blue Coats has been seen riding thisaway and they’s gonna be here in just a few minutes.”
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Caitlin watched as her mama began wringing her hands.
“What can they possibly want now? There isn’t anything left to steal. The pigs and chickens have been gone for months. There is that one old mule, but he’s so old he’s more dead than alive. The Christmas goose is well-hidden; they won’t find him, will they?”
Ezekiel nodded, “Martha has it well-hidden under the floor of our shack just like you asked ma’am. Them Blue Coats ain’t gonna find him.”
Caitlin chewed at her bottom lip. She knew whatever the Blue Coats wanted, it wouldn’t be good. She watched as her mother turned toward her with tears shining in her eyes. Terror overcame her five-year-old mind. Oh No, not that again. Not the dark hole.
From somewhere above stairs, Caitlin heard the whimper of her baby sister. That’s where she would go. She would run to the nursery and hide with Sister. Before she had taken even a step in the direction of the stairs, two very large, strong arms enveloped her and held her tightly to a wide unyielding chest.
“Missy Rosemary, ma’am, do we really have to put the child down there? You know how she was after the last time ma’am; she didn’t even speak for a week or more. Why don’t I just take her to my Martha? She will hide her real good, ma’am, at our shack. Them Blue Coats won’t find her there.”
Caitlin waited with dread for her mother’s answer, and the terror she heard in her mama’s voice, did nothing to calm her own fears.
“I can’t take the chance they will find her Zeke. I couldn’t go on living if those horrible men hurt my little girl. Hurry now. Take her into the kitchen and put her in the hiding place. It’s the only way.”
Silent tears ran down Caitlin’s cheeks as the muffled sobs of her mother faded away and the hoof beats of many approaching horses grew louder.
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She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even move. The hole was so small, even as tiny as she was, she had barely enough room to stretch out her legs. Her father built the hiding place before he left for the war. Caitlin had been much smaller then. The hiding place was in the kitchen, beneath the floor, under a chest, once used to store the family’s silver. The silver was now long gone but the hiding place was still intact.
Caitlin heard the kitchen door bang open and hit the wall. Stomping feet, so many of them. She covered her ears, trying to drown out the sound. Then she heard her mother’s voice. “I told you there was no one here, I am quite alone, I assure you Sir.”
The voice she heard next, she would hear in her nightmares for years. “I know you are hiding Reb soldiers here ma’am, and if you don’t tell me where they are right now, I will order you shot.”
Caitlin tensed, waiting for her mother’s reply. The soldiers who had been hiding had left only yesterday.
Caitlin could hear the fear in her mother’s voice. “As I’ve already told you sir, there are no soldiers here.” Caitlin held her breath as her small heart pounded in her chest.
“Shoot her!”
The sound of the blast reverberated throughout Caitlin’s body.
“Lieutenant, there ain’t much here to take, you want that gold chain with the little cross on it, she won’t be needing it no more?”
“Come on men, we’re done here,” was all the lieutenant said.
Caitlin heard the voice of the other man again. “My, will you look at those pretty white pantaloons, Sir. Sure are fancy ain’t they?”
A gruff voice answered. “Leave her be! Union soldiers don’t molest women, especially dead ones. Your prick is going to get you killed some day, maybe by me. Now come on.” Caitlin heard the retreating footsteps. Then, nothing but silence.
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Coughing, she couldn’t stop coughing as the small hiding place began filling with smoke and getting hot. There had been no other sounds now for a very long time. Why didn’t her mama or Zeke let her out?
Then the scraping of the chest above her as it was being moved, caused Caitlin to startle, and the trap door flew open. Zeke’s big arms reached down and pulled her from the hole and tried to shield her eyes. The smoke was heavy in the room, but not so heavy she didn’t see the blood covered body of her mother. She screamed and screamed and screamed.
Hand in hand, they stood together outside in the snow. The once beautiful plantation house was covered in flames. Caitlin looked up through tear filled eyes at Ezekiel.
“Zeke, what about Mama and Sister? We shouldn’t have left them in there like that.”
Ezekel knelt down on his work-worn knees and took the small child in his arms.
“You see those stars up there, child?”
Caitlin’s small head bobbed up and down, the familiarity of the dark brown wrinkled old face, a comfort to her.
Ezekiel pointed to a big brightly shining star. “That’s where your mama and baby sister are now, child. They is gone to the heavens, and will shine down on you forever.”
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CHAPTER {1}
December 17th 1880
Butte, Montana Territory
Tanner O’Shea rode his spotted Appaloosa stallion down the snow-encrusted path toward town. It was late evening but he didn’t care. He just had to get away from the ranch for a little while and relax. It had been one hell of a long week.
Three of his Herefords had become trapped in an icy snow bank and frozen to death. Thank God, at least Hercules his prize bull was still safe. The wind had ripped off part of the barn roof and now that needed to be replaced. Maria, his cook and housekeeper was a little over four months gone with child and so sick, she had taken to her bed for the last two days. This left him to care for his eight-year-old niece and ten-year-old nephew all by himself.
One thing about it, having that pair around had certainly cured him of wanting children of his own. Lord, what was he going to do with those two?
He had never even once thought his sweet pretty little sister would die and leave him to raise her two children. It wasn’t her fault. Lynda had been the best sister in the whole world. Even after Tanner had left New York to travel west, Lynda had stayed behind and cared for their good-for-nothing father, who had eventually drunk himself to death.
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Their mother had died a few years earlier from what the doctor said was a weak heart, but Tanner had always known, she died of a broken heart. She had deeply loved his father, and his father had driven her to an early grave with his drinking, carousing, and constant abuse. Tanner knew he would rather be dead, than be the kind of man his father had been.
Lynda, beautiful loving, Lynda. Why did she have to die? It was such a stupid accident.
She and her husband of eleven years, Brett, were on their way home from the theater, when the horses had somehow become spooked and taken off at a gallop. The driver hadn’t been able to regain control of the beasts and before anyone knew what had happened, the horses charged over an embankment and the carriage was crushed. There was nothing to be done. They both died instantly. That had been three months ago, three very long months.
Jonathan and Becky had come to live at the ranch and life had certainly not been the same since. What was he gonna do with those two? Quiet, sullen, withdrawn, Jonathan and Becky, a tiny beauty with bouncing golden curls and a smile that would melt any heart, and a way of always demanding attention and love that drove Tanner to distraction.
Tanner wasn’t sure he could give either one of them what they so desperately needed. They needed their parents. They needed someone who was capable of giving them love.
Love certainly hadn’t helped his mother or his sister. Love was only for fools.
Tanner thought of his betrothed, Angelica. Lovely sweet Angelica. Her father was an influential man in Butte and Tanner knew Magnus Davenport would be more than willing to help his daughter’s husband move up in the community.
Now, that was a reason to get married. There had to be mutual benefits for both parties or why bother? Love was overrated, anyway. Life with Angelica would be peaceful and profitable. They would have a fine home, fine friends, fine children and a fine herd of prize Herefords.
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It didn’t matter one bit that Angelica talked non-stop. It didn’t matter; she was spoiled beyond belief. It didn’t even matter, she thought her father was the greatest man alive. The only thing that mattered at all was the fact she had agreed to marry a man who was obviously below her station. On June 1st 1881, Tanner intended to marry Angelica Davenport, and he wasn’t going to let anyone, or anything stand in his way. Love, bah, who needs it anyway?
Gazing up at the clear frigid night sky, Tanner winked, as a million stars winked back at him. That was one of the reasons he had come and stayed in Montana. No other place on earth did the sky go on forever or the land stretch out for mile after mile, like it did in Montana. After growing up in New York, he knew he would never grow tired of the wide-open expanse, or the sounds of nature abounding here.
He stayed because of the people too. He owned a five thousand-acre ranch and he had people who depended on him for their livelihood.
Reaching the outskirts of town, Tanner headed his horse down the main street. He rode past the church and the new school building, then past the jail and the mercantile. He almost laughed out loud when he noticed the wooden Indian in front of the store. One of these days, David Red Feather was going to do something to that Indian, Tanner just knew it.
As Tanner pulled up in front of Grady’s Gulch, the local saloon, he thought about the odd combination of people he was now responsible for. That’s the biggest reason he decided to marry Angelica Davenport.
His niece and nephew needed a woman who could be their mama all the time. With a baby coming, his housekeeper could use help with the house. Lo Chin his foreman, Miguel, and David Red Feather, his ranch workers, could benefit from the acceptance the Davenport name would bring.
Tanner though, he wasn’t really sure just what he wanted out of the union. It didn’t matter though, as long as it benefited everyone else.
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Maybe things would be better after they got hitched. Maybe then, he would be able to feel passion, or at least more than simple curiosity for Angelica, who was truly beautiful to look at, on the outside, anyway. Somehow, Tanner’s brain just couldn’t convince his heart of that possibility.
Dismounting Ghost, his eighteen-hand black with gray spotted Appaloosa stallion; Tanner tied him to the hitching post in front of the saloon. He patted his old friend on the side of the neck and headed through the swinging doors of Grady’s Gulch.
The saloon was packed tonight, and Tanner scanned the tables for an empty seat. He was in the mood for a couple of stiff drinks and a friendly game of poker. Over in the corner, through a haze of smoke, he saw a man rise from his table.
The man was none other than Magnus Davenport. Tanner headed in his direction.
Magnus wasn’t a real big man, in statue anyway. He was only about five foot six and lean as a rail. What he didn’t have in size though he made up for in grit.
He had come to Butte just five years back and made short work of establishing himself. He now boasted of not only being a true war hero, but next to Tanner, he owned the biggest, richest spread in the area.
Tanner knew it wasn’t enough for the man though, he was always after more. He would make a very good father-in-law.
Making his way through the crowded saloon Tanner walked up to the man and slapped him on the back.
“Magnus, it’s good to see you. What brings you out on a night as cold as this?
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Magnus turned at Tanner’s touch.
“Why Tanner, my boy, how are you? It was just too cold and lonely out at my place with Angelica and Amy gone back east right now. What are you doing in town son?”
Tanner laughed, “I needed to get away from that niece and nephew of mine for a while.”
Magnus nodded his head, “Yes, children can be very trying. I have to get back out to my ranch, but you sit down here and teach these men how to play poker for me. They have already wiped me out tonight.”
With a pat on the back and a smile, Magnus left.
As Magnus was walking away, the hair’s on the back of Tanner;s neck stood up. Why did that always happen when Magnus was around? Tanner wasn’t so sure he liked not understanding what that meant. Smiling anyway, Tanner pulled out a chair. He would contemplate Magnus at a later date, right now he wanted to play poker .
Taking a seat in the vacant chair, Tanner sized up his competition. Marcus Daily sat at his right. He was a middle-aged man and Tanner’s closest neighbor. Marcus owned the land adjacent to Tanner’s on the west side. He mined it for gold and silver but it was copper he found in abundance. In the spring, Marcus planned on starting the mining process for the copper. He had found a very large vein and it could make him a rich man some day.
On his right, sat the sheriff, Roy Hammers. He was a friendly, quiet sort of man as long as you didn’t cross him. As long as you stayed within the law he was fine, but if you happened to cross the line, the man was like a bloodhound, and he never stopped until he had his man.
The man who sat across from Tanner was an older gentleman with overly long black graying hair, which tended to curl slightly on the ends. He had a silver gray thick, bushy, handlebar mustache, and his face showed the wrinkles of many years gone by. He had to be tall, at least six-foot, as his legs extended well into Tanner’s space making the legroom beneath the table seem quiet cramped.
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He was dressed in the attire of a fancy southern gentleman, the style worn before the war. Long silver-gray coat with a snow-white, high, stiff collared shirt. His pants matched his coat but they appeared to be a little big on the man’s lean lanky frame. From the wear and tear of his garments, this man’s suit had seen many poker games.
Tanner noticed the sag of the other man’s pants when the man rose from his seat and extended his hand. He wondered for just a moment, what the man in his prime had looked like?
“Captain Beauregard Pennyworth at your service sir, and who, may I ask are you?”
Tanner smiled, stood, and grasped the other man’s hand.
“Tanner O’Shea sir, and I’m ready to play a little poker.”
The two men shook hands, took their seats, and the game began.
Melissa, one of the saloon girls, sauntered over to Tanner’s table. She placed her more than ample breasts on the back of his head. “What’s your pleasure this evening, Mr. O’Sheaaaaaa? What can little ol’ Melissa do for you tonight?”
Tanner didn’t even acknowledge the woman. He didn’t have much use for whores. Not that she wasn’t pretty; she probably had been very pretty at one time. Now she just looked old, tired and well used. Tanner had heard of too many men who had problems with their private parts after bedding Miss Melissa.
“Just a whiskey ma’am.”
Tanner turned and watched Melissa back away with a pout on her red painted lips. Well, one thing was for certain; she wouldn’t be winning the on-going ten-dollar bet tonight.
He chuckled, the bet was between the saloon girls, and it had started about two years ago. Whoever was the first to get Tanner O’Shea in her bed upstairs, won the bet. Tanner had been positively stubborn though. He hadn’t bedded any of the ladies at Grady’s, and didn’t have any intention of doing so.
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Every woman in the place was looking at Tanner. He was well use to it by now. More than one woman had told him he was handsome. They would go on for hours about his dark chestnut hair and his unusual silver-gray eyes, his broad shoulders and tall muscular frame. His hands though, they were what caused the most speculation. His hands were positively huge.
Tanner could read the same question in every woman’s eyes. They all wondered if his nether parts were anywhere near as big as those hands. Well, there was one thing for certain, none of Grady’s Ladies would ever get the chance to find out.
Melissa took the whiskey to the table and sat it down. Without even a second glance, Tanner simply said, “Thank you ma’am.”
The poker game had been going on for about an hour when the level of tension at the table began to change. They were playing five-card draw, and Tanner had won a few hands, and lost a few. He figured he was still about even. It was Marcus Daily’s turn to deal, and Tanner watched as Beauregard Pennyworth’s eyes lit up when he looked at his cards. Staring down at his own cards, Tanner felt the moisture of sweat on his top lip. He was holding three deuces, a king, and a six of hearts. His hands were steady as a rock, as he laid the six of hearts face down on the table and said, “One.”
Marcus dealt Tanner one card.
Holding his breath for just a moment, he flipped it over into his hand.
Bets had gone around a couple of times and there was a substantial amount of money in the center of the table. Tanner raised the ante by a hundred dollars and noticed Beauregard Pennyworth had started to sweat also.
Marcus tossed his cards down on the table.
“This hand’s not that good,” and he sat back to watch.
Sheriff Roy Hammers did likewise.
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That left just Tanner and Beauregard.
Tanner watched as a smug smile lit Beauregard’s sagging cheeks. Was the man bluffing? He hated himself for what he was about to do, but what choice did he have? Sometimes a lesson just has to be taught.
“Well, Mr. Pennyworth, are you still in?”
Tanner saw a moment of uncertainty in the other man’s eyes, then it was gone.
“Well, sir, I don’t have the cash to cover that high of a bet on me at the moment, but I do have something even more valuable to put in the pot. I just happen to own the prettiest little filly you’ve ever seen. She’s young and spirited, a true Thoroughbred from the Deep South. I would really hate to part with her, but with the hand I’m holding, I’m willing to put her on the table. That is, unless you would like to fold now and prevent further loss sir?”
Tanner wasn’t sure if the man was being truthful or not. He sure would like to own a Thoroughbred, though. He would breed her with Ghost and raise some fine horseflesh.
“What’s she called?”
Beauregard glanced down at the table as he answered.
“I call her Katie Rose; she means the whole world to me.”
Tanner glanced down at his cards. “I’ll accept that bet.”
Tanner could tell Sheriff Roy Hammers didn’t like it one bit. There was something about Beauregard Pennyworth the sheriff seemed to not trust.
“Sir, if you lose this hand you better be able to pay up. If you don’t, I’ll hunt you down and hang you like the dirty cheat you would be,” warned the lawman.
Tanner nodded his agreement toward the sheriff, and then smiled as Beauregard swallowed loudly.
“I can cover the bet,” was all Beauregard had to say.
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Other folks started gathering around to see what all the excitement was about. The smell of sweaty unwashed cowhands, mingled with the cheap perfume of the saloon girls and the spilt whiskey of a thousand nights. Mixed together with hand-rolled cigar smoke, it created a cloud so thick it stung the eyes.
Beauregard cleared his throat, and in almost a whisper, said, “I call you.”
Tanner watched the other man intently. Beads of sweat were popping out on Beauregard’s forehead, and the skin on his face had taken on a greenish hue.
Tanner smiled, “Well then, let’s see what you have.”
The shaking of Beauregard’s hands was noticeable to all, as he laid down his cards face up.
Tanner stared at the cards. A full house; aces over queens.
Beauregard started smiling and his hands were reaching for the money in the middle of the table.
“Well, Mr. O’Shea, I think I will just take this little pot here.” Beauregard Pennyworth started gathering the money toward himself.
“Just a moment, Mr. Pennyworth.”
Slowly Tanner spread out his cards.
“Four deuces and a king. I do believe that beats a full house sir.”
Tanner watched as the other man’s face literally fell, his gaping mouth caused his chin to rest on his chest. For just a moment, he even felt sorry for the old man.
Tanner collected the money from the table and the paper for Katie Rose. He stood and faced Beauregard Pennyworth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow by noon, Mr. Pennyworth. Anyone can tell you how to get out to my spread. It’s called Haven Valley. ” Then, tipping his hat to the other two men at the table, Tanner O’Shea walked out.
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Beauregard Pennyworth left the saloon right after Tanner did.
Lord, what was he going to do now? Caitlin was going to kill him for sure this time.
How on earth was he going to explain this to her? How was he ever going to tell his twenty-year-old niece he had just put her on the table as a bet in a poker game, and lost?
*****
Caitlin Rose Star sat in the back of the medicine wagon, which had served as her home for the past fourteen years. Uncle Beauregard was gone into town for an evening of drinking and playing cards.
Lord, was her life always going to be like this? It wasn’t as if she didn’t love her uncle. She loved him very much and would do anything she could within her power to protect him. It was just that she wanted more, but what she didn’t know was what exactly it was she was wanting.
It was probably just the time of the year.
It had been this time of the yea, fifteen years ago, when her life had changed forever. Caitlin shuddered at the memory of that day. She had been only five when the Blue Coats had come and killed her mother and baby sister and burnt her home to the ground. Ezekiel and Martha had taken care of her, though.
She hadn’t wanted to leave when her uncle had come for her. It had been just a few months after the war ended. Zeke had found her out by the river and dragged her back to the little shack. There was a tall, lanky man standing beside the small table. There was something familiar about him, but Caitlin wasn’t sure what it was.
“Are you my papa?”
The man had smiled sadly and shook his head no. “I’m your dear mama’s brother. Your papa won’t be coming back child. I’m the only family you have left.”
Caitlin left with the man that day, and she had lived with the Captain ever since.
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The Captain, that’s what Uncle Beauregard liked to be called. He had been a captain in the Confederate Army, and one thing was certain, he had never forgotten the war. They now went from town to town hawking their remedies from the back of this wagon. The Captain took his greatest pleasure from bilking some poor unsuspecting Yankee. To the Captain, the war had never really ended.
Not that the remedies they sold didn’t have some merit, for they did. They just didn’t do all the things they were advertised to do.
Like the Dodd’s Female Pills. Caitlin knew for a fact they didn’t work. They came all the way from England and had been reported to cure all manner of female complaints. They sold for fifty-cents a bottle, and weren’t worth the container they came in.
One of their best sellers was from the Oregon Indian Medicine Company. This company sold the ingredients and you made up the medicine yourself. From these ingredients the Captain made his hair tonic. It was called Pennyworth’s Hair-Restorer.
Caitlin had to smile as she remembered the Swanson Twins. They had worked for the Captain for almost a year. Caitlin and the Captain had met the twins in Augusta, Georgia, a few years back. The two young men had been working on their father’s small farm and were yearning for a different kind of life.
Uncle Beauregard had been doing a medicine show in the town when he first spotted them.
They were perfect, so identical even their parents couldn’t tell them apart. Uncle Beauregard spoke with them for a few minutes and hired them on the spot. The twins, Olaf and Sven, went along with Caitlin and her uncle when they traveled next to Tallahassee, Florida.
Caitlin didn’t know what her uncle had in mind, but it didn’t take long to find out.
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Before the medicine show, the Captain shaved Sven’s head totally bald. About halfway through the show, Uncle Beauregard started speaking about the restorative properties of his hair tonic. He called for a volunteer, Sven, of course, came forward and pulled off his dusty sun-faded hat. People gasped at his totally baldhead.
The Captain really played it up.
“You poor, poor soul. How long have you been without hair?”
Sven looked stricken. “Since I was a young’un, sir. I once had me a full head of yeller hair but that was before the fever took it all away. I’ve been trying to find me a wife, but the ladies don’t want no man without hair. Sir, if your medicine can grow hair on my head, then it can grow hair on anybody.”
The Captain wiped away a non-existent tear. “I tell you what I’ll do for you, young fellow. Your sad story touches my heart. I’m going to treat you for free.”
The Captain had Sven sit on a small stool. He made a production of rubbing the rosewater, alcohol, and snake oil into the man’s scalp. When he was finished he said, “Now you put that hat of yours back on and don’t take it off for nothing nor nobody until you return tomorrow night at the same place and time. I’ll take your hat off then and the whole town can see if my tonic works.”
The next evening the field allotted for the medicine show was packed. When Olaf walked up to the makeshift stage the people held their breath. Uncle Beauregard stared hard at the young man.
“Well, son, are you ready to see if you have grown any hair on that bald head of yours?”
Olaf nodded.
“Are you ready to be overrun with proposals from the pretty young women in this town?”
Olaf grinned. “Ya, I sure am,” and the crowd snickered.
“Are you ready to put any man here to shame with the thick head of hair you have grown overnight?” {16}
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Olaf nodded his head up and down enthusiastically.
“Then sit down on this stool so I can reach you, and let me take off that dirty old hat.”
The Captain made a big production of slowly removing the hat and letting the long flowing golden blond hair drift down the man’s back. They sold twenty bottles of hair tonic that night at five dollars a bottle.
This went on town after town. Then came Galveston Texas.
The evening started out no differently than any other. Olaf was up on the stage and his hair had just been revealed. From somewhere in the audience came a voice.
“How many times do you intend to grow that same head of hair?”
They had barely escaped Galveston with their skin intact, and Sven and Olaf happily returned to their father’s farm. The two decided they’d had more than enough of exciting big city life.
*****
Caitlin rose from her small cot and put another piece of wood in the potbelly stove. The wagon was tiny but it was home. Caitlin chided herself. She should have been making up more bottles of tonic instead of reminiscing, but it was just so cold tonight. She hopped back onto her cot and covered herself with the warm quilt.
What would it be like to live in a real house again? What would it be like to have a husband and children? Caitlin sighed. She would never know what it felt like to be a wife and mother and she knew it. Even if she wasn’t so old, twenty, almost twenty-one, where was she going to find a man? They never stayed in one place long enough to make friends with anyone.
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This daydreaming was a waste of time anyway. Even if some man did want her, she wouldn’t be able to leave Uncle Beauregard. Who would take care of the man if she wasn’t here? Who would make up the tonic? The one time Uncle Beauregard had tried, the taste was so awful people brought it back and demanded their money. No, she would never be able to leave her uncle.
Who would want her anyway? Caitlin knew she was no beauty. Her hair was always a mess. It was an unfashionable midnight black mass of riotous curls that no amount of taming with hair irons could control. The long tresses were forever straying from the tight bun at the nape of her neck.
Caitlin picked up her uncle’s small shaving mirror. Her eyes seemed so strange to her, they always had. They were the most unusual shade of blue she had ever seen. Why couldn’t they have been a pleasant sky blue or a deep, sea blue? No, they had to be the color of an angry sky. Kind of a cross between blue and green, but not really either one.
Her skin was blemish free, though. That was one thing she had in her favor. Her lips, now there was a major problem. They were too big. They seemed to take up most of her lower face. In Caitlin’s estimation, her nose was too small and her ears stuck out at an ugly angle. Sighing, she set the mirror back down. She was just going to have to face the facts; she was plain at best.
Her body wasn’t too bad she guessed, but who would ever see it? She certainly didn’t have the money for pretty clothes. Her dresses had all been purchased with sturdiness in mind and it showed. They hung on her small delicate frame like shapeless flour sacks.
Caitlin rolled over and tried to go to sleep. Sleep would not come. She longed to know what it would feel like to be held in the arms of a man. To be kissed. She had never been kissed. She had never so much as held hands with a man, let alone make love. What would it feel like to be in love? What would it be like to be loved by a man?
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Larkson/Wish upon a Shining Star
The strange tingling she occasionally experienced started deep within her core. She yearned for something, but what she yearned for, she wasn’t sure. Tonight, like so many nights before, she fought the raging emotions flowing through her untried body. It was a sin to think such thoughts. A sin she knew, she would burn in hell for if she ever just once gave into the temptation. What was she thinking? There wasn’t anyone here to even commit any sins with.
She rose from her cot and went to the small table. She would make up the different tonics after all. The work would give her mind something else to focus on. Caitlin pulled out the ingredients and went to work. Wishing and dreaming was for children.
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