May 17, 1853
Claude,
Tell the old man none of Buckmeyer’s land is for sale, but have located several nice blocks of timber that if purchased right would bring a tidy profit. Let me know yours and our benefactor’s pleasure in that matter. None of it borders Buckmeyer’s vast holdings, but close enough.
Like he figured, the man is interested in running in ’60,
I’ve thought of an angle we can work there.
A new wrinkle, Henry’s oldest daughter still lives at
home and appears to be quite smitten with me. As much as
I am with her father’s wealth and the obvious inheritance.
She’d definitely be a good catch. Very handsome young
woman. Not sure I’d ever do better, and she might just be
the highest prize anyway!
I’m staying at the Buckmeyer’s, so no boarding expenses, but my cash is dwindling fast. A fresh influx would be appreciated, as there are no saloons or card parlors in this one-horse town. Return post in my name, general deliver
As always,
Braxton
Post Script.
To maintain my growing relations with Mister
Buckmeyer, I attended a Methodist Church with the family
yesterday. Nothing like the mass. I actually rather
enjoyed myself, especially the singing. The homily was
long, but at least I could understand what was said.
He waved it gently several more times then folded it into thirds and slipped it into the envelope he’d already labeled. That got stuffed in his inside coat pocket where it would remain until he got back to town.
Best see if Miss Jewel saved any cutbacks from breakfast. He’d hate having to spend any of his remaining coin on dinner. But he needed to post the letter. Didn’t dare entrust it to Chester or anyone else who might already be going.
Cecelia had heard the stifled scream coming from the general direction of her room, but instead of looking up, glanced at the window then turned back.
Seemed her daddy had thought it came from the children outside. His one bad ear sometimes made it difficult for him to know where a sound really came from.
“Want me to go check on them?”
“No, let’s get back to you two.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What it comes down to is can I trust you, Cecelia Carol?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir. I promise, Daddy. Now that’s it settled we can get married next year, I’d never do anything out of line. You have my word.”
Elijah glanced at her then back to her father. “And mine, sir. We’ll never be alone again, I promise.”
She extended her hand, and Elijah took it. Without moving her gaze from the young man’s eyes, she said it one more time. “Thank you again, Daddy.” Finally she turned and smiled her best and biggest.
He nodded toward their outstretched hands. “That’s it. No other contact. Ever. Agreed?”
Her ‘yes sir’ followed a masculine ‘yes sir,’ and though he had started it, her words echoed almost in unison. Just like she’d be for the rest of her born days. One with her love. The two shall become one.
Dropping Elijah’s hand, she hurried to her father. Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed him tight. “Thank you so much, Daddy.”
“Good, fine, and you’re welcome. Elijah has work to do now, and you have a chore of your own.”
“Yes, sir. Monday’s wash day. I’ll go find Gwen and Bonnie Claire.” She started toward the door, eyes glued again to Mister Eversole’s then stopped and turned. “Can I take dinner to him today?”
“No, he can take something with him.”
She pouted. “Tomorrow?”
“We’ll let tomorrow take care of
Claude,
Tell the old man none of Buckmeyer’s land is for sale, but have located several nice blocks of timber that if purchased right would bring a tidy profit. Let me know yours and our benefactor’s pleasure in that matter. None of it borders Buckmeyer’s vast holdings, but close enough.
Like he figured, the man is interested in running in ’60,
I’ve thought of an angle we can work there.
A new wrinkle, Henry’s oldest daughter still lives at
home and appears to be quite smitten with me. As much as
I am with her father’s wealth and the obvious inheritance.
She’d definitely be a good catch. Very handsome young
woman. Not sure I’d ever do better, and she might just be
the highest prize anyway!
I’m staying at the Buckmeyer’s, so no boarding expenses, but my cash is dwindling fast. A fresh influx would be appreciated, as there are no saloons or card parlors in this one-horse town. Return post in my name, general deliver
As always,
Braxton
Post Script.
To maintain my growing relations with Mister
Buckmeyer, I attended a Methodist Church with the family
yesterday. Nothing like the mass. I actually rather
enjoyed myself, especially the singing. The homily was
long, but at least I could understand what was said.
He waved it gently several more times then folded it into thirds and slipped it into the envelope he’d already labeled. That got stuffed in his inside coat pocket where it would remain until he got back to town.
Best see if Miss Jewel saved any cutbacks from breakfast. He’d hate having to spend any of his remaining coin on dinner. But he needed to post the letter. Didn’t dare entrust it to Chester or anyone else who might already be going.
Cecelia had heard the stifled scream coming from the general direction of her room, but instead of looking up, glanced at the window then turned back.
Seemed her daddy had thought it came from the children outside. His one bad ear sometimes made it difficult for him to know where a sound really came from.
“Want me to go check on them?”
“No, let’s get back to you two.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What it comes down to is can I trust you, Cecelia Carol?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir. I promise, Daddy. Now that’s it settled we can get married next year, I’d never do anything out of line. You have my word.”
Elijah glanced at her then back to her father. “And mine, sir. We’ll never be alone again, I promise.”
She extended her hand, and Elijah took it. Without moving her gaze from the young man’s eyes, she said it one more time. “Thank you again, Daddy.” Finally she turned and smiled her best and biggest.
He nodded toward their outstretched hands. “That’s it. No other contact. Ever. Agreed?”
Her ‘yes sir’ followed a masculine ‘yes sir,’ and though he had started it, her words echoed almost in unison. Just like she’d be for the rest of her born days. One with her love. The two shall become one.
Dropping Elijah’s hand, she hurried to her father. Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed him tight. “Thank you so much, Daddy.”
“Good, fine, and you’re welcome. Elijah has work to do now, and you have a chore of your own.”
“Yes, sir. Monday’s wash day. I’ll go find Gwen and Bonnie Claire.” She started toward the door, eyes glued again to Mister Eversole’s then stopped and turned. “Can I take dinner to him today?”
“No, he can take something with him.”
She pouted. “Tomorrow?”
“We’ll let tomorrow take care of
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