Lost Love

By JR Thomas

LOST LOVE - The first novel in a trilogy about Captain Jake Cooper, a Texan, returning back home from fighting in the Civil War. He and his close friend, Lt. Sam Boyd hook up with a Wagon Train leaving from Richmond, Virginia, heading to Union, Texas. The trip is long and the trials great. Relationships are made and destroyed. This is an exciting adventure story which relives the endurance of the many families that left the East and headed West for the promise of land and a hope for a better future.
The thirty-five wagon train starts out with everyone having mixed emotions, some sad to leave family and friends, and all excited with the prospects of the future. The wagon master is a seasoned veteran with numerous passages to Texas and Oklahoma, but this trip turns out different.
While Jake and Sam adjust from being confederate soldiers locked in daily battles for their lives, they find themselves caught up in the struggles of everyday tasks of moving wagons pulled by ornery animals and lots of tired settlers. The journey spans over fifteen hundred miles of mountains, rivers, streams, rocks, and primitive trails that serve as a road to the West.

Come ride with us as we travel Westward in wagon and on horse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JR Thomas
• Release date: Jan 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311689269

JR Thomas

My life so far, has consisted of many endeavors. From college days of studying, to learning and working in many trades; such as owning a heating and air-conditioner business, maintenance manager, computer technician, programmer analyst, business analyst, information technology manager for a fortune 500 company, and ending my business career as a part-owner of a large extrusion and lamination company in New Bern, NC.I am now retired from a “regular” job and have decided to spend the later part of my life writing memoirs, short stories, and fictional novels. A learning curve goes with all jobs, and it i seems to be true with writing professionally as well.Seems writing would come easy to someone at my age. After all, I have spoken and written in English for over six decades. However, I still struggle with sentence structure and grammatical correctness. I sure wish I had listened more attentively in my English classes.Although writing is a struggle at times, I enjoy creating a story, weaving events, and then involving interesting characters in stressful places to make the story come alive.I have written four novels that are available for purchase. Hope you enjoy them!

Book preview

LOST LOVE

by

JR Thomas

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Dedication

I dedicate this, my first novel, to Vanessa, my loving and patient wife. Also to my six grown children, Jimmy, Russell, Abigail, Kirk, Jeremy, and Max. I would like to say just how much it means to me that you gave me the time and the chance to publish this novel.

Appreciation

This novel would not have been possible, except for the encouragement from the writing class, Ramblin’ Wrecks, taught by Mrs. Maxine Carey Harker. She leads a group of dedicated writers extraordinaire whose names I will list below.

Betsy Sprague, Jerry Norris, Mona Freeperson, Edwina Rooker, Ila Gray Lewis, Tom Lewis, Flora Ann Scearce, and Doris Dyson

CHAPTER 1

Surrender

The booming thunder of cannon fire no longer shook the quiet Virginia countryside. No gunshots rang out, and no brass bugles sounded. The screams of the injured and dying men on the battlefield had ceased. No white clouds of pungent gun smoke tore at his nostrils.

The empty battered field before him had run red with the blood of men and animals the day before. The last blood sacrifices of the opposing forces.

General Lee, after great loss of men, his troops out-manned, out-gunned, and surrounded by the opposing forces –- realized the war was lost. He would negotiate the surrender of the Confederacy to General Grant.

Today, Captain Jake Cooper would lead his soldiers this one last time. They wouldn’t be going to fight a battle, but to surrender. A proud, tough, Texan, Jake never liked to lose or back down when things got tough, and it was with a sick feeling in his gut that he saddled his warhorse, Dakota.

Although, unofficially over, there was one last assignment passed down to Captain Jake Cooper, assemble ten of his top men to escort their Commander, General Robert E. Lee to meet with General Grant.

Jake made certain that these ten men were clean, their uniforms cleaned and repaired, and their horses groomed. Everything about the chosen soldiers from their boots, buttons, medals, and swords had to be polished and properly worn. He didn’t want to cause further embarrassment to his commanding officers, especially General Lee.

Jake noticed, even with his army’s defeat, the General carried himself with dignity and presence. He was the picture of the perfect Confederate soldier. The aging General rode by his soldiers, and Jake could see the sight of his soldier’s conditions deeply moved the General. The General’s men, many wounded with blood-soaked bandages, many lacking proper uniforms, struggled to attention with heads lifted, their eyes not showing their pain during this brief moment with their beloved Commander. Breaking military protocol, the General saluted first the soldiers this one last time, as he did his ride by.

The ceremony was to take place at the home of Wilmer McLean. The first shell of the war had fallen at his home, and strangely, the final negotiations would end in his parlor.

Captain Jake Cooper silently stood with the remainder of his soldiers. His own Cavalry regiment had served with General Lee at the front, and had suffered terrible losses since early March.

On the filthy faces of his men, you could see the mixed emotions of bitterness, pain, and yes, gratitude -- for being alive. These men had suffered through a lot together, but each would go their separate ways, back to former lives, as they had once known. Their regiments released, and the War Between the States over -- the Confederacy disbanded.

The lucky ones had survived, but so many had died or were maimed –- seemingly for nothing. The survivors would leave with memories of appalling injuries and death; enough to keep a man short on sleep, most likely for the rest of their nights.

The war over, Jake desperately longed to return home to Stoney Creek, his father’s ranch near Riverdale, Texas. Sadly, he had taken for granted family, home, and yes, even the hard sacrifices his dad and mother had made, as they carved out a home in the rugged Texas terrain.

Not being there for years had changed his perspective. Just like so many other young men on both sides of the conflict -- fighting a war changed everyone, if they lived.

Jake had matured into a man. He saw things a lot differently than before. His recent military training and experiences had taught him how to protect himself, and stop others when the need arose. He had lost count the number of his soldiers lost in skirmishes and the enemy he had personally killed, but he would never forget their faces. The haunting looks of their dying eyes. Those faces would follow him, like ghosts, all his remaining days.

CHAPTER 2

The Journey Begins

A familiar voice yanked him back to reality. He heard the voice calling out, Captain Jake Cooper! He looked over the sea of faces before him. Again, he heard his name. Captain Jake Cooper! Is that you?

A smile spread on Jake’s face. Although he couldn’t spot the man, he recognized that deep, raspy voice. He knew it belonged to his long lost friend, Lt. Sam Boyd, –- from his old company, the 39th Battalion Cavalry, Company D. Jake turned to his right, scanned the faces again, and then spotted the tall, lanky Southerner whose voice he would never forget.

Both men were tall, but Captain Jake Cooper stood just a few inches taller than Lt. Sam Boyd did. Jake towered over most men, his six foot four inch frame, with rough curly blond hair, steel blue eyes, dark complexion, hinting at a mix of Comanche heritage. Most of his soldiers swore that he was full Comanche after serving with him. Jake had proved to be a formidable fighter, whether hand-to-hand or with weapons. His body muscular and well portioned. His reflexes were fast. No one in his command could outdraw or outshoot him. His horse, Dakota, seemed to understand Jake’s very thoughts, as if their minds were as one. They made a formidable team in battle, and many a Bluecoat cavalryman had made the mistake of going against him.

Captain Cooper liked what he saw in Lt. Sam Boyd. Sam was a good soldier and excellent leader. The other trait he saw in Sam was his bravery under duress. Sam had led a group of his soldiers on a critical mission that took out a bridge, and hemmed a larger force of Yankee troops on the opposite side of the river.

Jake gave him a field commission that day for his brave actions, and Sgt. Sam Boyd replaced his 2nd Lieutenant, shot dead the day before by a sniper. Regrettably, command positions changed too often and it didn’t pay to get too close to anyone. He became close to Sam even though the odds of them being friends for long was low.

He couldn’t help but notice that Sam had lost the lower part of his left arm, his shirtsleeve tied up in a knot. Sam struggled to make his way around a group of men gathered around a Yankee chuck wagon. Jake noticed the Yankee soldiers were passing out food rations to the hungry rebels. He had better get some for himself before riding out.

Some of the men were saying their last farewells, and shoving the food into their saddlebags for their trip back home. Most would travel across several states with little or no money in their pockets, but the food would hold them for a short spell.

Sam was still fighting to get through the crowd. It was good to see his friend again. Jake remembered how Sam had saved his life -- more than once. He and Sam became good friends, even though Jake had been his commanding officer. Jake had lost contact with him when he took his new command, directly under General Lee.

Sam finally made his way to where Jake stood. They met once again, both glad to be alive and together.

Sam! Glad to see you, old friend. Sorry to see you’ve been injured, what happened?

Cannonball fragment -- least it wasn’t my gun hand. I’ve found it harder to button my pants and shirt, and of course cinching my saddle on Buster, but I’ve learned to cope. Kinda strange, I find I still reach for things with a hand that ain’t there no more. It’s tough, but I’m not complaining, I’m still above ground. So, are you headin’ back home to good ol’ Texas?

Yep, back to my father’s ranch at Riverdale, maybe he’ll give me my old job back. I didn’t leave on such good terms with him. Been wondering how I’ll be received. He thought I was crazy to get involved in this war. Anyways, I hope to settle down, and raise some cattle and horses there. Just might even find me a good woman to marry. He laughed. I might even take you with me, if you’re wantin’ to head west.

You know, might as well, nothing back home for me, looters killed my folks, my cousin Matthew told me. For the meanness of it, I suppose. My folks, poor share croppers didn’t have much to steal. I don’t have land or folks to go back to. Think I’ll head westward too. Maybe even to California -- I hear the streams are full of gold nuggets ready for the pickin’.

The decision made, Jake, and Sam rode out of the camp together; they would travel the countryside from Virginia back to Texas. The knew the distance would be great, and the going tough. They also realized that traveling of any kind would require money, and their military pay had been sporadic at best. Together they had only hundred-forty dollars in silver and gold pieces left, not much travel money for two men for so great a distance.

Jake thought long and hard about how he could make it back to Texas. Finally, together, they settled on the idea to hitch up with a wagon train, and hire out as extra guns for the westward travelers. The long trip would give them time to re-adjust to civilian life and provide opportunity to make some money as well.

The pair decided to make their start in the large city of Richmond, Virginia. They heard that wagon trains formed and left there regularly. On arriving, Jake spotted a poster inviting families to join the wagon train heading for Union City, Texas. The wagons were assembling a few miles outside of town, and would be leaving within the next couple of days.

The promise of owning their own homesteads in Texas had drawn the families of thirty-five wagons together. They were willing to make the drastic change for hope of new land and prosperity. Most of them, unfortunately, had lost their homes and businesses to the war.

He and Sam decided to separate to get more done. He would ride out to the camp where the wagons gathered. There he would try to land them both jobs. Sam would stop in town and purchase their needed supplies at the general store.

It shouldn’t take me too long. Sam said. I’ll meet you at the wagon train toward dark. I just might wet my whiskers before headin’ out though.

Arriving at where the wagons were already gathered. Jake reined Dakota up alongside one of the large wagons. Three men were placing a wooden metal-rimmed wheel back on its rear axle.

Need some help with that wheel? The three men looked up, the tallest one in a blue Yankee shirt glared back at Jake, his mouth set in a scowl. The one closest to him removed his glove, and offered his bare hand.

This here is Robert Scott, the wagon owner, Silas Barnwell, and my name is . . .

Before he finished his name, Jake responded back shaking the older man’s outstretched hand, Captain Jake Cooper -- Jake, I mean, sir.

The men shook hands, and then the man spit a large wet wad of dark tobacco out of his mouth on the ground before he replied again.

Captain, huh, thanks, but the wheel’s ready to go. Just finished greasin’ the axle, it’s a darn long way to Texas, probably need greasin’ again ‘fore we get there.

He hung the tin of thick black grease back on its hanger under the Conestoga wagon.

Jake made a mental note