Portersville - J.W. Osborn (black authors fiction TXT) 📗

myself,” she said.
“Come Spring, “Honey,” Doc promised “You probably will.” He took her hand, led her back to the buggy, and helped her up into the seat again. “Let’s go look at our new house, Vic,” He said as he climbed into the seat next to her and took up the reins of the team. “I walked through it this morning, and I can see just what I want to do to make it ours.” She took his hand and smiled at him. “When do we move in, Doc?”, she asked.
“Anytime you want, Vic,” he replied, then clucked to his team and they were off back toward town and home.

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MOVING DAY


Carpet bags, trunks, boxes and furniture were being taken from Victoria’s cottage in a steady parade through the front door and loaded into several wagons from former Double J Ranch. Doc had rounded up everyone he knew to help with the move to the new homestead and he was all ready gone with the first load of their household goods. It was moving day, for Doc and Victoria Stevens. The cottage held many memories for Victoria, not all of them good, but she chose to not think about the passed and the loss of her first husband, Jack and dreams that never had quite come true, until the day Elliot Stevens walked into her bake shop and changed her life. She looked around herself at the quaint two bedroom cottage that she had called home. How her life had changed and how it would change even more once she brought her baby into the world. It had been a bitter sweet medley of memories as she went through her belongings and prepared them for the move. A new life lay ahead of her with the man she loved and she welcomed it, but at the same time, letting go and selling the cottage to a new owner had not been as easy as she had thought, but the big house at ranch was a palace, and she had a lot of work to do making it home for herself, Doc and the baby.
.
Young Hap Johansen III and his wife, the former Suzy Titus were ready to take possession of the cottage and small barn that had been home to Victoria Stevens for the decade she had lived in Portersville.
Now Doc would never say it, but he was right proud of young Hap III. He’d turned out to be a fine deputy sherif and when he had finally been called to duty with the US Cavalry, he earned the rank of Sargent. He’d saved his pay while his fellow troopers drank and chased after women. Hap chose to stay faithful to his wife and stayed in the barracks dreaming of carrying her across the threshold of their own home. He ‘d gone to Doc and made an offer for the cottage once he’d heard the news that he’d bought the former Double J.

Victoria wore her hair up and tied a red bandanna around it to keep the dust off. She was busy packing up her belongings from the spare bedroom where Sam Dodge had stayed during her recovery after being hurt in a trail accident. Victoria smiled at the memory and how she had sworn Sam to secrecy about the baby. There was no keeping a secret now, as she was well on her way to motherhood. Suzy Johansen paused at the door, a stack of folded linens in her arms. “Doc said that you are to take it easy, Miss Victoria,’ she cautioned. “Hap is going to load the other wagon after lunch. Where do you want these table cloths?”
“You can put them in the trunk I left open in the parlor,” Victoria replied, pausing to rub the soreness out of her back. “Did Doc get the red davenport out the front door?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Suzy replied “He sure did, but it took him , Hap and Old Pede to do it.”
“Then the parlor is almost empty.”, Victoria replied as she resumed packing up the last of the small items from the bedroom. “I think you can start moving your furniture in if you want to, Sue,” she said as she stooped down to pull open the bottom drawer of the nearly empty dresser. “Hap is over at the Double J, I mean, The Stevens’ Ranch,” Suzy answered “He is loading up our stuff and helping Doc unload yours. May be we will get to spend our first night in our new home.”
“I know I am going to be spending it in mine,!” Victoria declared with a smile on her face. “I told Doc to set up the bed first thing when he got over there. I am going to be one tired lady when we get this job done.”
Suzy giggled “I think Hap and I will probably just sleep on the floor.” At that she walked away to continue packing. Victoria pulled the lowe drawer of the old dresser open. There in the corner, under a piece of faded calico lay the tintype of Jack Langford in his uniform. For a moment she looked at the face of her long dead husband. She felt nothing. He looked like a stranger. She set the picture aside, thinking that she might return it to his family back in Virginia. She had not thought about her life back East in many years. As she sifted through the bits of fabric, ribbons, old letters and forgotten souvenirs she saw another picture, in a frame, but it lay face down in the very bottom of the drawer. She reached for in and picked it up, carefully turning it over.
It was a water color painting of a beautiful young woman with her golden blonde hair piled on the crown of her head and falling down over one shoulder. Her eyes were a warm and soft shade of brown as her smile was sweet. “Claibie.,” Victoria said to herself. “We were both so young then.”
How many years had passed since the day she and her older sister parted and never spoken or seen each other again? Victoria has lost count. Would Claibe want to know that Jack had been killed at Shiloh? Or had she read the names of the dead as they were posted outside the court house during the years of the Civil War.. After all, he had once been betrothed to Claibe, but eloped with Victoria in what felt like a different life time. Her fingers traced the delicate smiling face of the sunny, happy looking girl in the portrait. “I do not even know if you are alive or dead, sister,” she said to herself. The last time she had seen Claibe Shilling was in Richmond during the siege. “It is the past,” she told herself as she slipped the watercolor into the wooden box that she was packing with items to be taken to her new home. “I will not go back and remember. I can not do it. Not even for you, Claibie.”


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The Stevens Ranch
Spring 1876


Victoria had to work to get herself out of bed that morning. Doctor O’Brien told her that the baby could come at any time. She was to rest and take it easy. Victoria Stevens was not a woman to stay down for long and she wanted to get up early to do some baking. Doc lay on his back on the opposite side of the bed, sound asleep and snoring like buffalo. She glanced over at him and smiled. He would be surprised when he got up and she had breakfast all ready for him, just as she had when they were first married and living in town. Rubbing the soreness out of her back, Victoria walked across the bedroom to her closet and chose what she would wear for the day. Silently she dressed and slipped out of the bedroom, making sure she did not wake her husband. She was bound for the chicken house, down by the horse barns.
That late April morning was crisp and clear, and it looked like a beautiful day was just getting started. She heard the men milling about, getting ready for their day of work on the ranch. Doc would be leaving for town about 9:00 so she had to hurry.
Victoria was in the chicken house gathering eggs when her water broke. The baby was coming NOW and there was no stopping the contraction that came next. She knew she had to make it back to the house, but those birthing pains the doctor had explained to her about were getting stronger as she attempted to get through the open door of the chicken house. Suddenly the house seemed like it was a hundred miles away. That was when she saw her husband on the porch, pulling his shirt on over his broad shoulders. “Victoria?”, he called out to her. A few seconds later he was scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to the house. Doc seemed to have a sixth sense about