A Light in the Wilderness: A Novel - Softcover

Jane Kirkpatrick

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0800722310 ISBN 13: 9780800722319

Publisher: Revell, 2014

Synopsis

Letitia holds nothing more dear than the papers that prove she is no longer a slave. They may not cause white folks to treat her like a human being, but at least they show she is free. She trusts in those words she cannot read--as she is beginning to trust in Davey Carson, an Irish immigrant cattleman who wants her to come west with him.

Nancy Hawkins is loathe to leave her settled life for the treacherous journey by wagon train, but she is so deeply in love with her husband that she knows she will follow him anywhere--even when the trek exacts a terrible cost.

Betsy is a Kalapuya Indian, the last remnant of a once proud tribe in the Willamette Valley in Oregon territory. She spends her time trying to impart the wisdom and ways of her people to her grandson. But she will soon have another person to care for.

As season turns to season, suspicion turns to friendship, and fear turns to courage, three spirited women will discover what it means to be truly free in a land that makes promises it cannot fulfill. This multilayered story from bestselling author Jane Kirkpatrick will grip readers' hearts and minds as they travel with Letitia on the dusty and dangerous Oregon trail into the boundless American West.

About this title

About the Author

Jane Kirkpatrick is the New York Times and CBA bestselling and award-winning author of more than forty books. Her works have won the WILLA Literary Award, the Carol Award for Historical Fiction, and five Will Rogers Gold Medallion Awards. Jane divides her time between Central Oregon and California with her husband, Jerry, and Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Rupert. Learn more at JKBooks.com.

From the Back Cover

Three very different women. One dangerous journey. And a future that seems just out of reach.

Letitia holds nothing more dear than the papers that prove she is no longer a slave. They may not cause most white folks to treat her like a human being, but at least they show she is free. She trusts in those words she cannot read--as she is beginning to trust in Davey Carson, an Irish immigrant cattleman who wants her to come west with him.

Nancy Hawkins is loathe to leave her settled life for the treacherous journey by wagon train, but she is so deeply in love with her husband and she knows she will follow him anywhere--even when the trek exacts a terrible cost.

Betsy is a Kalapuya Indian, the last remnant of a once proud tribe in the Willamette Valley in Oregon territory. She spends her time trying to impart the wisdom and ways of her people to her grandson. But she will soon have another person to care for.

As season turns to season, suspicion turns to friendship, and fear turns to courage, three spirited women will discover what it means to be truly free in a land that makes promises it cannot fulfill. This multilayered story from bestselling author Jane Kirkpatrick will grip your heart and mind as you travel on the dusty and dangerous Oregon Trail into the boundless American West. Based on a true story.


Jane Kirkpatrick is the New York Times and CBA bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including A Sweetness to the Soul, which won the coveted Wrangler Award from the Western Heritage Center. Her works have been finalists for the Christy Award, Spur Award, Oregon Book Award, and Reader's Choice awards, and have won the WILLA Literary Award and Carol Award for Historical Fiction. Many of her titles have been Book of the Month and Literary Guild selections. Jane lives in Central Oregon with her husband, Jerry. Learn more at www.jkbooks.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

A Light in the Wilderness

A Novel

By Jane Kirkpatrick

Revell

Copyright © 2014 Jane Kirkpatrick
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-8007-2231-9

CHAPTER 1

Having an Opinion

1844—Platte County, Missouri

Letitia preferred the shadows, avoiding the skirmish before her. Butthe child tugged on her hand and led Letitia to the dust in frontof the Platte County courthouse. Men's voices sliced the air likethe whips of a field marse, sharp and stinging. The air was heavyas a wet, wool quilt, yet dust billowed around the two men as itdid when bulls scraped the earth. "She was contracted for, fairand square. She failed to do the work!" Letitia knew the speaker,Davey Carson, once of Ireland, now of Carroll Township, PlatteCounty, Missouri. Today, full of consternation. Bushy eyebrowswith the tint of auburn formed a chevron of scowl over his nose."Sure and I did nothing like she says I did. Not a thing. The girldidn't work, I tell ye!"

Letitia shrank back, grateful his anger wasn't directed at her.She tugged at the child's hand to move toward the Platte City store.

"We'll settle it in court then." The second man brushed pastDavey, leaving the Irishman like a shriveled pickle in the bottomof a barrel, no one wanting to touch it.

Davey's red face scanned the disappearing crowd. When his eyescaught Letitia's, she glanced down. Hot sun brought out sweat onher forehead, intensified the scent of coconut oil and honey she'dused to smooth her crinkly hair. She turned her head to the side."Let's go." She started to reach for the child's hand.

"I suppose you believe that too," he accused.

She halted.

"That I'm a madman capable of beating a young lass and misusingher, slave or no! Is that your opinion, woman?"

Was he really speaking to her? She should walk away. She didn'tneed to get in an argument with a white man. She was in the towngetting buttons and bows for Mrs. Bowman and looking afterArtemesia, who had begged to come along. The child stared, slippedher hand inside Letitia's. It felt wet and warm.

"I gots nothin' to speak of, Mistah Carson. I gots no opinion. Ijus' stayin' out of the way." She did have an opinion, though. Hehad been kind to her the year before, not long after she'd arrivedin Platte County, when she'd asked him to take her money andbuy a cow with it.

His voice rose again. "I may be an old mountain man not accustomedto town ways, but I know how to take care of property."He threw his hands into the air. "I never touched her. Never! It wasa trick all along, I tell ye. They told the lass to run away so they'dhave their property and my money and I'd be without her laborand my money both." Davey stomped up the courthouse steps pastthe black and white cornerstones. Letitia was dismissed.

Each American was due his "day in court," or so she'd heard. Shehoped he was successful in his lawsuit. She wasn't sure why. Takingsides wasn't her way. Her heartbeat returned to a steady pace.

In the store, they waited. The mercantile owner had customersto keep happy, and serving those white people first was a given.Letitia spread her hands over the smooth bolts of cloth, the newdyes tickling her nose. She lifted the lacework on the shelf, fingeringthe tidy stitches. Irish lace? She shook her head. People were tradingtheir finery for hardtack and flour, getting ready for travel west.

Letitia was going to Oregon too, with the Bowmans. She wasn'tcertain how she felt about that. She'd learned the rules of Missouri,showed her papers when asked, endured the sneers and snarls of"free black" as though the word meant stink or worse, a catchingkind of poison spread by being present near her breath. But goodthings had happened to her since she'd been in this state too. She'dearned money helping birth babies, enough to buy a cow. DaveyCarson had in fact made the purchase for her, taking her moneyto acquire the cow that she paid the Bowmans for feeding—alongwith her own keep.

But she'd heard that the Oregon people wanted to join thestates as free. She'd be free there too, and without slavery and itsuncertainty hovering like a cloud of fevered mosquitoes. Maybein Oregon she'd try her hand at living alone. Or if she marriedand had children, they'd be born free there and no one could eversell them away from her. What property she had would be hersto keep. Like the cow she owned. She eyed a silver baby rattle onthe mercantile shelf. She felt its cool weight. For when ... if everagain. No, Mr. Bowman said they could only take essentials. Ababy rattle wouldn't qualify.

Still, Letitia chose to go to Oregon with them, chose to helpSarah with the laundry and care of the children. She felt free to callher Missus Bowman whenever they were in public, even thoughat the log cabin she could call her Miss Sarah, like an older sister.Though they weren't ever so close as that.

While Artemesia ogled the hard candy counter, Letitia wanderedthe store, placing a set of needles into her basket, lookingat a hairbrush, her face reflected in the silver back. Coal black hairfrizzing at her temples beneath her straw hat, damp from humidityheavy as a dog's breath at high noon. Dark brown eyes set into aface the color of the skinny piano keys. Sadness looked out at her,reminding her of all those eyes had seen in her twenty-six years.The set was nothing she could afford.

A gust of wind burst sand against the store's windows. Outsidethe weather worked itself up into a downpour. Getting homewould drench them. She ought to have remembered the slicker forthe child, but it hadn't looked like rain. She didn't want the childto catch cold.

A sewing box caught her eye. Tortoiseshell with green and bluesilk lining the inside. She opened it and saw the ivory spool holders.She could make a false bottom and put her paper there, somewheresafe and secure.

"What can I do for you, Miss Artemesia?" The shopkeeper spoketo the child. He and Letitia were the only adults now, all othercustomers serviced and gone, scampering through the rain withthe umbrellas the shopkeeper loaned them.

"Mistah Bowman will be in tomorrow to pick up these things."Letitia handed him a list, careful not to touch his fingers eventhough she wore gloves. "I's buying the needles."

"This your mammy, Miss Bowman?" He nodded toward Letitia."Yes sir. She's Aunt Tish."

"She has money to buy needles?"

Letitia raised her voice. "I has money Suh."

He frowned. Letitia handed him the coins. "Bowmans pay me.I's a free woman."

He harrumphed. "So you're all really going to Oregon then,Miss Bowman?"

Artemesia nodded.

"Must say, you'll be missed, little lady." He turned to put Letitia'smoney in the till. "Half the town seems to be heading west. Isee the wagons rolling." He sighed. "Wouldn't mind a change ofscenery myself now and then. Not sure though that I trust thoseletters sent back about all the good things Oregon has awaiting."

"We able to borrow one of your umbrellas, suh? It rainin' harsh."

"Should have remembered to bring one."

"Yessuh, but didn't see no storms walkin' in. Don't want thechil' getting' sick."

He nodded. "Wouldn't want that on my conscience either. Hereyou go."

Letitia didn't give her opinion of letters sent and received. Hewouldn't care. Few asked her opinion. Miss Sarah didn't invitesuggestions for how to clean the bedrolls of fleas or how to lessenmorning sickness. Mr. Bowman acted like she didn't exist exceptto help break hemp or butcher hogs. But Davey Carson had askedher opinion of his lawsuit, now that she thought about it. She worea little shame that she'd sidestepped his question, didn't answerthat she found him to be a kind man, unlike what he was accusedof. He had treated her as though she was more than a post. Thatso rarely happened, she'd been shocked and was now surprised atthe feeling of warmth arriving on the memory.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from A Light in the Wilderness by Jane Kirkpatrick. Copyright © 2014 Jane Kirkpatrick. Excerpted by permission of Revell.
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Edition details

• Publisher: Revell
• Publication date: 2014
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0800722310
• ISBN 13: 9780800722319
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 316