Summer Winds

By W. P. Smith

Summer Winds is a novel creating a series based on the life of a young girl from Tennessee meeting and falling in love at a young age. Time takes her through the heartaches of separation and follows her through the times of loneliness and despair in her life. This book takes you through only the first few years of love, life and living. You can sense the places and feel the pain Sunshine endures through life in waiting for love to return. Travel through her life and live the times of happiness, joy and triumph along as she fights to hold on to the love of a lifetime and wins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W. P. Smith
• Release date: Apr 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301609482

W. P. Smith

Born and raised in East Tennessee. Love most everything outdoors including fishing, gardening and sports. I enjoy reading various genres of books but fashion to mystery, crime, anything which holds me past the first few pages!Living life is easy when you live it with the knowledge nothing is given to you, you must work to achieve you goals.

Book preview

Summer Winds

By W. P. Smith

Copyright 2013 W. P. Smith

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places and events are results of the author's imagination. Any resemblances to actual events and /or places are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part or portion herein of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission from the author or publisher.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

About the Author

End Notes

Contact Author

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Prologue

One summer evening I sat in the chaise gazing longingly down the long narrow dirt road across the fields from the house. I had always known when company was coming if not by foreknowledge, by the swirling of the dust clouds created as they drove down the dirt and gravel road. Hot dry summers left the road barren like the Sahara creating a somber, dry setting at times. The rains would eventually come awakening the beautiful picturesque landscape of the Tennessee Valley in a summer of little rain and lots of sunshine. A summer evening that took me back in time of memories growing up. Times when a girl grew into womanhood before she had wanted, creating memories of a lifetime with family and friends. Memories of love, life, living and the man who made her who she is today, an older woman now sitting in her chaise.....remembering life like swirls of dust.

Chapter One

A skinny child more boyish than a girl should be I was fascinated by snakes, snails and puppy dog tails rather than the sugar and the spice. All of the things which made a girl a girl, I bypassed. I was the biggest tomboy in the neighborhood. That is if houses a quarter of a mile apart constituted being a neighborhood.

Fields of wide open spaces with crops of all kinds, places to play hide and seek until suppertime. Endless summer days spent lying under the big oak trees munching on apples stolen from Byrd's orchard. Days as a child I could go a half mile away from home yet still hear mama's voice carry in the winds as she yelled. Times of cuts, bruises and skinned up knees that always seemed to be with me.

Summer days of rain and wind catching me away from home, walking onto the back porch looking like I had gone to the creek and took a swim. Times I had no worries of strangers doing harm and neighbors were family, friends the people we joined on Sundays for Church. The people we worked with in the tobacco, corn and hay fields making money for winters needs. Folks we grieved with at funerals and celebrated with at new births. People as much family as my own.

A hot summer evening yet a spell before dark I found myself far out in the fields from home. It was a day setting a course in life which catapults itself sometimes inside my mind. Memories of the days gone by, spending hour after hour passing the time away, setting the platform for the rest of my life. Some memories kept deep in my heart’s closet, some living openly and freely never forgotten like a part of daily living.

Loafing wistfully I ran between the big fields of corn, sunflowers and alfalfa. Afternoon till evening I roamed during the summer. The days rain kept me from enjoying the sun were spent perched up in my brother’s tree house. The view from the big oak tree gave range to see all around our farm. Neighbor’s houses not seeming as far apart as they were from the ground. The fields blowing in different directions from the wind was a beautiful sight when the rain pelted in patterns from the sky on each one.

Mama had sent me to pick blackberries. The task completed, I was in the field picking sunflowers to take along back home. It was quiet in the fields as light summer winds blew softly through the rows. The sounds coming through the breezes were peculiar, taking me curiously to the pathway between the rows. I could see clouds of dust as the vehicle pushed down the road. A truck sounding loud like a rumble of thunder seemingly, roaring up dust from the long battered pavement which over the years had became more or less dirt and gravel. I knew almost every vehicle around by sound. This was a new sound, one unfamiliar to my ears. Walking closer toward the road to look I knew it was different, odd even. This truck slightly beaten on its frame approaching closer gained my prompt attention. Running the path to the ditch line I halted. The unfamiliar truck slowly stopped in the road, gravel crunching beneath its tires. Not frightened yet a small taste of fear fell inside as I stood quiet looking at the strange truck.

A tall older man opened his door. It creaked like it was going to fall off its hinge, but it hung as he exited. An older man about my dad’s age I figured yet he looked older, tired and worn. He took off his dirty hat silted with dust and sweat, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.

How far to the Pitts farm young lass? He asked in a solemn voice.

Waiting a spell before speaking I burst out. Why are you asking, Mister, blocking the sun from my face using my hand as a visor.

The man wiped off his face and brow again slowly, waiting, expecting a reply not a question. I thought for a moment realizing I was being rude. Answering I explained his question the best I could.

Just go ahead down the road taking the next left. Go to the end and it's the second road, my house is the first. I explained.

Thank you kindly young lady, he pronounced back.

A young boy close to my age, maybe older sat motionless on the passenger side, not once speaking but looked my way once or twice. The man thanked me again nicely for the directions. He stood momentarily in the roadway stretching himself, then crept slowly back into the truck. He slammed the door hard making sure it shut then rested his arm on the door.

You head back into the fields away from the roadway lass, He spoke sternly.

Yes, Sir, I replied turning back toward the fields. Man had to be a farmer broken down by hard work in the fields, I'd thought. He wasn't old like a grandpa yet he moved as slow it seemed. The young boy tipped his hat in my direction as they moved slowly on their way. I watched as they drove past the corn fields turning left towards the Pitts. Frustration got the better of me realizing I hadn't even asked the man his name. A time when I needed to know everything about everything, I’d forgotten to even ask.

Curious of the strangers I walked back inward to the fields, thinking of the man and boy headed to the Pitts farm. They had some small pieces of furniture in the back of the truck. Two chests with drawers and some odd pieces of furniture like end tables. Suitcases were resting up next to the cab so maybe they were family since the man favored Mr. Pitts a little, my mind wandered aimlessly. Curiosity ran on overload absorbing the strangers not realizing I'd let time get away.

The sun hung in the sky at the angle of three or four now. My attention being diverted, I quickly grabbed the bucket of berries I had been sent to pick hours ago. Distracted by the sunflowers and dragonflies dancing across the corn tassels and the strangers I’d met at the road I rushed home. Making my way down the pathway between the fields I was home in no time. It was what mama called dark thirty when I walked into the kitchen.

Was it dragonflies or daydreams today, Sunshine? She asked with a big warm smile.

Admitting to both causes I smiled handing her the sunflowers, knowing she couldn't be upset. They were her favorite and mine so often I picked bouquets for display at the supper table. She took a vase from underneath the sink arranging the flowers asking about my day. I took her through my adventures the same as always.

The stream was my first stop watching groups of little minnows in the stream and I waded a bit. I went up to Ty’s tree house cleaning it out where the leaves had piled up. I told her of the berries I ate while I picked, hoping she'd still have enough to fix a pie anyway. The rest of the time I was in the sunflower field watching the dragonflies fly around just relaxing until I heard the truck coming.

She turned with eyes full of concern asking. Truck, what truck?

Briefly I told her of the strangers I’d met out by the south field asking for directions. Of course I wasn't to never speak to strangers near the road or never go with anyone I didn't know. Briefly was all I could inform her as she edged off my conversation looking at me intently.

Sunshine, Sunshine we have talked about this again and again....you have got to listen, times are changing. Not all people are good people. Next time you stay within the fields or the berry patch away from the roads. You have got to stop being so curious. She said meekly yet stern.

Yes, Mama, I replied quickly.

Still I was curious of those I'd met at the road, especially since I had forgotten to ask the man his name, leaving my thoughts browsing for answers.

The days of summer seemed to be passing fast. It was my favorite time of the year and no school a big reason for it being my favorite. Really I didn’t need all the school stuff anyway I had told Mama, advising I already knew how to do things here on the farm. Still I would need to know more than farming one day she’d say.

It was getting close to the end of summer break, although it was still a few weeks away. Break approaching its end, I knew it was time for the big neighborhood social. It was more like a huge family picnic but the dance in the evening made it a social according to mama.

An annual event in summer bringing neighbors, family, friends and all kinds of kinfolks together for one big day and evening of outdoor festivities. A day in summer when everyone came together like a family reunion comprised of neighbors and friends. Everyone would gather at the football field at the high school. It was something like a fair but not quite the fair most others attended. There was a cornucopia of canned goods the ladies had made throughout summer displayed and shared. Quilts, pies and jellies to name a few made it a virtual wonderland fair for me. Everything home made from butter to applesauce. There were no fancy rides or carnival games just food and fun. We rode ponies, horses and played hopscotch while the boys played football or other sports passing the day away. A day enjoyed together by everyone.

Greased pigs were chased around in a pen made from hay bales and a tub filled with water to mock a fish pond, receiving prizes of a ribbon not a toy for winning. Cake walks where you could eat your prize! Pie eating contest and a dunking booth where we enjoyed trying to dunk a teacher from school, the town Mayor or the Sheriff. A day longer than any other in summer it seemed. When the daylight began to fade and twilight set in, so did the big dance of summer. Singing and dancing to the tunes people made with fiddles and bows, banjos, guitars, harmonicas, not those from a radio. I could listen forever to the folk music played in perfect melody. It was easy to get lost among the music which was as much a part of life as I was.

One summer day every year things were the way dad and mama had done things when they were kids. Kids they grew up with gathered with their own children for a good ole fashioned summer festival. They wanted us to experience life the way they had growing up. Dad wanted to teach us the values of having family, friends and neighbors and experience life the way it had been before the world had gotten so complicated.

Most of the folks around lived a simpler way of life. A life avoiding the changing times as much as possible. It’s not like we lived in the dark ages but if it wasn’t needed or necessary, we didn’t get it. The one thing most important to all of us was family. We went to school and worked evenings on the farm helping dad and mama. We had everything we needed plus more to be happy.

Light bulbs were strung across electric cords lighting up the area around the dance floor where square dancers and little tappers made glorious music with their feet. None of this stuff fancied me. The festival itself I enjoyed every year being perfectly content to just watch and listen. The music people played on their instruments was my favorite part. I could listen for hours to the various tunes played, moving along to the beats. I loved watching my family have a great time dancing, laughing and talking with neighbors. Dad dancing with mama as my brother and sister danced together was pleasing. Once in a while my brother, Ty would make me dance with him but I preferred to just watch.

Listening to the singing of the older folks telling a tale in song was intriguing. An older woman danced alone, making music with her steps. Ty joined in the festivities playing his harmonica to the folk tunes. Once the dancing and music had begun I found a seat to enjoy it all. Most of the time I spent perched somewhere honing in on the lively music played by Deputy Brewer, Mr. Pitts, heck even the town Doctor played along on his guitar.

Making the most of the day I had enjoyed the things I only saw once a year. Mama always tried to get me more involved every year but I stayed away from the girlish things of dancing and such. Being I was such a tomboy the girls my age dancing and tapping seemed way to girlish for my taste. Dresses and hair ribbons were just a dreaded wear of mama's choice. My jeans and a tee, hair up in a ponytail suited me just fine. It was to satisfy mama I wore a dress and the hair ribbons to such events being it was easier to comply with her than argue, regardless of my desires.

It was near dark as I sat upon the fence rail listening to the music when I heard the sound of the old truck from the highway a few days back. Standing up on the bales of hay gave me a better view to see if it was the same strangers from the roadway. The curiosity about them had driven me insane, asking everyone who they were, their names, something to fill the void in my head. No one knew much to tell so I had given up for a bit. I'd asked everything I could think of about them until mama and dad had finally told me to stop asking so many questions. I was sure dad knew who the man was by the look on his face when I asked the questions but he wasn’t sharing the information I wanted and needed.

The bales of hay didn't provide the range needed to view the strangers that had come to join us. So in my cotton dress and ponytail, I climbed up into the tree beside the fence. The large branch above made the perfect place to sit providing a good view of the strangers.

The two of them exited the truck as I watched closely. The man reached in the back of the truck pulling out a violin. Surely he’d fit right in with the folks around here I thought. The boy carried a guitar walking toward where the man stood.

The truck’s bed was empty now of suitcases and furniture. The boy walked around to the man's side of the truck standing beside him. The man shook hands with everyone like he had known them for years. The boy was introduced as the greetings went along. I gazed at dad when he shook hands with the man knowing this was someone he knew by the way he greeted the man, hugging him while they shook hands. Loud smacks on the strangers back said he knew him well. Seeing this I thought of the questions I'd asked not getting any answers.

Curiosity devoured me wanting to know more about them. I decided to go over and find out who they were myself unable to fight it any longer. Eagerly I jumped from the branch to the ground. My voice pelted out a volatile scream when I hit earth. In moments people surrounded me trying to help.

Dad placed me on a hay bale nearby searching for blood, cuts or broken bones. The pain in my foot was intense and had swollen what seemed like immediately. The fall resulted in a very bad sprain not a fracture, Doctor Lee advised after examining thoroughly.

Dad rubbed the ankle gently asking, Can you stand on it?

Trying to stand made my entire leg throb with pain.

Doctor Lee advised. Ice packs and she needs to stay off of it a few days and she’ll be fine, doc pulling at my ponytail before walking away.

Mama was frightened and upset because I had climbed into the tree in the first place. Her face was meek even in anger but I wouldn’t want to push her too far at the moment.

I have no idea what to do with you sometimes girl. You need to keep your feet on the ground and your head from the clouds, she scorned mildly but with meaning.

Yes Mama, I answered promptly as she gave me a quick wink.

Ice wrapped in a red and white checkered napkin was extended and dad placed it on my ankle.

A low voice spoke softly, Do you want something to drink?

Lifting my head I met the face of the boy who had sat in the passenger seat of the old truck from the road, instantly taking notice to him. My attention was drawn to his eyes mixed of blue and green. His raven hair dark and wavy was tossed softly from the summer wind. His voice caught my attention as instantly as his features. The first time a boy or a voice had gotten my attention this way.

He extended the glass of lemonade which I took without hesitation. Sipping it slowly, glancing at him once or twice hoping not to get caught in a stare. His build was slim but wasn’t boney. He was well mannered and friendly, sitting down beside me drinking his lemonade.

Want me to hold the ice cloth on your ankle for you? He asked.

Sure, I replied, starring as he held it in place smiling.

Does it hurt much? He asked.

A little, I answered, feeling a little sick to my stomach as the pain trembled through my foot. Dad came over just when I was ready to throw up. The next thing I knew my time at the festival had ended as he carried me to the Jeep. Mama kissed my forehead gently giving dad instructions on what to do when we got home. He looked at her grinning, agreeing with her instructions.

We were going down the road in dad's version of luxury, an old Willis 1949 Jeep he treasured. A hand down from my grandfather years back, he had restored it to like new condition. He treasured the old Jeep using it only for special events and outings, more to show it off, like a prized possession. The night air felt good blowing against my face giving ease to my stomach. He parked close to the back door so he could carry me in easily. The pain was subsiding now for the most part I told him.

Don't matter Sunshine, you're staying right here on the couch. He grumbled laying me down.

The nauseated feeling remained. Dad brought me crackers and something to drink to help ease my stomach. My thoughts were still engulfed of the boy, the new strangers that had come to the festival. I would miss the music since it was my favorite part of the whole festival. I rested on the couch with my leg raised on pillow stacks munching on the crackers feeling the sickness subsiding. The wheels were turning in my head feeling dumbfounded because I hadn’t asked the boy his name! The one thing I wanted to know and had missed the perfect opportunity to find out. I started asking questions again about the new people knowing now he knew them and maybe he could fulfill some of my vast curiosity.

Dad, who was the strange man you talked to at the festival? I asked hoping he’d give answers.

William Pitts and his son come to start back over here after the death of his wife a ways back. Dad explained, adding, A tragic accident had taken her life, leaving William and his son with the desire to start over elsewhere. Tennessee was William's first choice. He had been away for so long, a new start meant in actuality coming back home. Will his son, named after him but called Will to have less confusion, was all he had left.

The stranger I had directed at the road was the brother of Wesley Pitts, our neighbor to the north pasture. Finally after receiving some answers, I was full of excitement wanting to learn more about Will and his father. Around here you didn't meet a lot of new kids. It was the same people and kids I’d known all my life. Things didn't change much and the new folks were very interesting.

Rest, you're not to be moving around. I'm heading back to the festival to fetch the rest of the family. He advised sternly.

Yes, Dad I answered, my thoughts invaded with new knowledge. Finally I could rest knowing the days ahead would allow me to find out more of what I wanted to know.

A few days passed and I was good as new, back doing my normal routine of chores. Weeding the garden made me wish I was still ailing. Although being outside in the summer sun with the wind blowing softly definitely washed away the thought. Speedily I worked doing daily chores watering mama's flower and vegetable gardens, pulling tiny weeds from them rushing to get done. After my regular list of chores was complete, the rest of the day left was mine and I worked feverishly to claim it as my own.

My agenda today was to the north fields, seeking out the things I longed to know, planning to check out our new neighbors. Grabbing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I ate quickly drinking a soda then was off to adventures unknown. Running past the vegetable garden mama yelled, reminding me of suppertime and not to be late. I hollered back, I'd be home on time not late as usual.

Walking down the narrow path wide enough for the farm equipment between the corn and tobacco fields, I headed to the north side of our farm. Near Mr. Pitts’, Wesley’s farm, I heard a rumbling of sound from the trees near the end of the field. I wasn't frightened by the noise it was simply a mere curiosity as I peered up at the trees. A barn owl sat high atop a branch scouting his chance to snatch lunch. A field mouse, a rabbit, whatever he decided for his menu choice today I thought smiling, thinking of the owl menacing his meal. I heard a noise then a large flock of crows flew hurriedly from a patch of high grass just beyond our field which was the back field of Wesley Pitts.

Closely I watched as the birds took flight. In a short distance I saw the figure of William Pitts, hammering away at a post, driving it into the ground. He was tying string from one pole to the other as I approached slowly in his direction. He turned toward me stopping his pounding for the moment. He reached behind himself retrieving a cloth to wipe his sweat. I wasn't touched by fear like I had been the first time we met at the roadside. Since dad had explained somewhat about him I was comfortable in his presence knowing the names of those from the road.

He displayed the face of a man who had worked hard in his life. A face filled with wrinkles and grief. Although he was near to dads’ age, he looked older and it was easy to see the pain presented in his face. It was the loss he had suffered and the ambition to start over as dad had explained. With complexity I studied him, watching his movements. The million questions I had wanted to ask before this moment were absent in my thoughts now. He raised his hat wiping sweat from his face clearing his throat.

Sunshine, what brings you up this way? He asked.

At the moment I was disillusioned of how he knew my name. Another curiosity began invasion of my thoughts. Surely everyone had introduced their kids to the new folks but I didn't recall. Dad had taken me home early after falling from the tree. Nevertheless, I finally began to speak.

I’m out to find new adventures today, something different than I’ve found before. I answered, standing in silent frustration as the questions I had logged in my mind to ask were useless. Seemingly, they weren’t as important now either. A smile brightened his face chuckling at my response.

Sunshine, I tell you what, I think you need a friend to help search for new adventures, he spoke, tucking the cloth back inside the pocket of his overalls. Friends make things more interesting...gives you new things to take on in your mind. A friend can help you discover things you hadn't thought of before, he said.

With the thought planted in my mind I was glad to take his advice. Mr. Pitts are you going to be my new friend? I asked.

Call me William, Miss Sunshine. He spoke.

"Why did you need directions to get to your brother’s house? I asked.

I knew he had been raised on this same farm so I didn’t understand how he had lost his way back needing directions that day.

Well to be honest Sunshine, I knew how to get here. I saw you out by the roadway where a young girl shouldn’t be mind you and thought it best to stop mostly to make sure you were okay. I figured you were one of Mason’s children so I thought best to check before I went ahead to Wesley’s. He explained fully.

Replying, I guess I should thank you then Mr. Pitts, William I mean.

I stood absorbing