Sycamore Promises Page 29
“Mind? Micah Mason, I was beginning to think you’d never ask. Of course, I wouldn’t mind. Nothing would please me more.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure. I guess it took me awhile to get up my gumption.”
“Well, you got some of it up, I’m happy to say. See if you can summon up the rest of it. We aren’t getting any younger you know.”
He laughed.
She laughed.
“This ice cream is good,” he said.
Sycamore
August, 1867
The buckboard parked in the Masons’ front yard. Sunday supper finished earlier these days, allowing time for Micah to drive Cora back to town and return before dark, though most Sundays he didn’t make it back until well past sundown.
It rained while Miriam served dessert; a brief shower moistened the fields before the sun returned. Micah, Cora, and Elizabeth walked out to inspect the crops. Fields of golden wheat ripened on a hot breeze.
“Look there.” Elizabeth pointed.
A rainbow arched across the fields disappearing into the river.
Miriam and Caleb stood on the back porch, looking out across the creek.
Off to the east in the distance, the soulful sound of a train whistle announced its scheduled arrival.
“Listen,” Caleb said. “Every time I hear that sound, I cain’t help but think Micah been right all along.”
“He gets that part right; my guess he gets the rest of it, too,” Miriam said.
“You mean about rights?”
“I mean about rights. I think about them every time I go down to the dugout past that old sycamore. She speaks to me there. She say it’ll all be right.”
“Miss Clare speaks to you?”
“She do.”
“They make a right fine lookin’ family, don’t they?” Caleb said, lifting his chin to the fields.
“They do.”
“What you s’pose Miss Clare would say ’bout that?”
Miriam’s gaze lifted off through the branches of the old sycamore.
“I believe she’d say I kept my promise.”
Lo, the mighty sycamore, her roots entwine the soul;
So, the sycamore promises, evermore to grow.
AUTHOR NOTES
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One of the creative licenses the author has used to manage the number of characters presented to the reader, in some cases, is to use characters appropriate to an event (Jayhawkers or Bushwhackers) who may not have actually participated in a specific event. For example, Jacob Herd and his north ferry bushwhackers were credited to the account of the trading post massacre as a vehicle to introduce William Quantrill to the story. Well-versed historians will be quick to pick up on these discrepancies where they occur. We ask their indulgence of an artistic device intended to simplify a complex chapter in history for the reader.
Selected Sources:
Ball, Durwood. Scapegoat? Colonel Edwin V. Sumner and the Topeka Dispersal.
Kansas History: A Journal of the Central Plains (Autumn 2010), pp. 164–183.
Reynolds, David S. John Brown, Abolitionist. Random House Vintage Books, 2006.
Leslie, Edward E. The Devil Knows How to Ride. Da Capo Press, 1998.
Thomas, Emory M. Bold Dragoon. University of Oklahoma Press, 1986.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
* * *
Paul Colt’s critically acclaimed historical fiction crackles with authenticity. His analytical insight, investigative research, and genuine horse sense bring history to life. His characters walk off the pages of history into the reader’s imagination in a style that blends Jeff Shaara’s historical dramatizations with Robert B. Parker’s gritty dialogue.
Paul’s first book, Grasshoppers in Summer, received finalist recognition in the Western Writers of America 2009 Spur Awards. Boots and Saddles: A Call to Glory received the Marilyn Brown Novel Award, presented by Utah Valley University.
To learn more visit Facebook @paulcoltauthor
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