Miles to Victoria

By Bob Gabbert

Victoria Gibbs is an ultra-conservative Christian woman who never misses a church service. She doesn’t drink or smoke or dance, and she is a virgin when she gets married. She teaches Sunday school, and is held up as an example of how a good Christian woman should live her life and be an example to young women everywhere.
This is the woman that Eric Gibbs falls in love with and marries, and whom everyone in Tilson, Texas, knows, loves, and admires. It is only after her violent death that he begins to unravel her secret life where nothing is off limits. This is Eric Gibb’s journey, and it is not for the faint of heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bob Gabbert
• Release date: May 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370014583

Bob Gabbert

Bob Gabbert has been writing novels about strong women for eleven years. Asked why his protagonist is always a woman, Bob said that generally speaking, women are physically smaller and weaker than men. Consequently, they must use their intelligence to solve important issues, and that's more interesting for a writer. Bob Gabbert is a world traveler who has lived or worked in many of the places he writes about. He graduated from the University of Washington in Seattle where he and his wife, Janet, make their home.

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Copyright © 2017 by Bob Gabbert

All rights reserved, except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission by the publisher.

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e-Book Edition: May 2017

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

About the Book

Victoria Gibbs is an ultra-conservative Christian woman who never misses a church service. She doesn’t drink or smoke or dance, and she is a virgin when she gets married. She teaches Sunday school, and is held up as an example of how a good Christian woman should live her life and be an example to young women everywhere.

This is the woman that Eric Gibbs falls in love with and marries, and whom everyone in Tilson, Texas, knows, loves, and admires. It is only after her violent death that he begins to unravel her secret life where nothing is off limits. This is Eric Gibb’s journey, and it is not for the faint of heart.

Table of Contents

Title Page

About the Book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Acknowledgement

About the Author

Other Novels by Bob Gabbert

Chapter 1

Réginald Lagrange, a Paris banker, sat animatedly talking with a beautiful blonde woman in Le Café Gustave at the corner of L’avenue de La Bourdonnais and La rue de Monttessuy in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. He glanced at his watch and frowned. Je dois aller, cher. [I must go, dear.] He waved to the waiter, who came immediately with the check. He put a large bill on the waiter’s tray and kissed the blonde woman on the forehead, and then left.

He looked left and right and then began walking along La rue de Monttessuy away from the café. A small shadowy figure stepped out from a darken doorway and silently began to follow him creeping ever closer. Lagrange walked with a happy spring in his step. He took keys out of his pocket and pressed a button. A beautiful Citroën CX parked at the curb responded by flashing its lights and unlocking the doors.

The figure following him saw the lights flash and quickened the pace arriving just as Lagrange opened the car door to get in. There was a zip sound and Lagrange slumped to the pavement. Two more zip sounds quickly followed and then the figure continued down the sidewalk as if nothing had happened. At the corner, without looking back, the figure disappeared into the night.

The next morning, the Paris addition of the London Times ran a front-page article that read:

Bank President Murdered

An unknown assailant shot Réginald Lagrange, president of L’guardian Bank, last night on the streets of Paris. Mister Lagrange was apparently getting into his car when he was shot three times from behind at close range. No valuables were taken. Police have no suspects at this time and are asking anyone who has information to contact Paris police.

Eric Gibbs sat alone in the living room of his farmhouse. Television news was on, but he paid no attention as he stared at the floor, lost in his thoughts. It had only been two months since his wife was killed. Evenings were the worst time to get through. The phone began to ring upstairs in Victoria’s office that she insisted she needed for privacy when grading papers and talking to her students. He made a gesture of who cares with his hands and let the phone ring. After a few more rings it stopped, but moments later it started again.

Begrudgingly he got out of the chair and went upstairs hoping that it would stop ringing, before he had to tell another person that his wife was dead and listen while they told him how sorry they were. Didn’t they know that their words only brought it all back?

He picked it up. Hello.

Is Angie Clark there?

You have a wrong number.

Sorry. The caller hung up.

Eric started back downstairs, but the phone began to ring again. Hello.

I’d like to speak with Angie Clark.

I told you, you have a wrong number.

Is this 555-7672?

It is, but there’s no one here by that name.

That’s strange, because she wrote number down herself when she rented the apartment. Is this 476 Plum Lane in Tilson, Texas?

"Yes. Who is this?"

My name is Jim Swenson. I manage Oak View Apartments in Abilene. Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but Angie has lived here for several years. She’s a nice lady, but she’s behind in her rent. I don’t want to do it, but if she doesn’t pay in the next two weeks, I’m going to have to sell her stuff.

Why would Vicky have an apartment in Abilene? But who else would leave this number and address?

Are you still there? Swenson asked.

Where are you located?

On Palm Street, 4342, can’t miss it, it’s a five-story building with a huge oak tree out front. I’ll hold her stuff for two more weeks, but after that, I’ll have to sell it.

Are you there on Saturday?

Yes, I live here—apartment 110 by the mailboxes. I’ve also been collecting her mail, because her box is full.

I guess I should check it out and make sure. Okay. I’ll be there Saturday afternoon.

Bring Angie with you if you can. I’m sure it’s just an oversight on her part, because she’s never been late before.

Reverend Devers looked out over the overflow crowd who had gathered in the First Baptist Church of Tilson, Texas. Victoria Gibbs lay in a closed casket before him. He adjusted his eyeglasses and said, As I look down on Eric Gibbs on this sad day, I know that his heart is broken into a thousand pieces by the untimely death of his beloved wife, Victoria. Eric is a good man. His father before him was a good and simple man. Eric lives on the farm outside of Tilson that his grandfather started some 80 years ago. Eric and Victoria are pillars of this community and of this church. Eric is a deacon and before her untimely death, Victoria taught Sunday school to teenage girls. Not a service went by that Victoria wasn’t sitting there in their pew with her hat and white gloves, and Eric was always there beside her. So many times I, and others, have held them up as examples on how a good Christian marriage should be.

Reverend Devers adjusted his glasses and opened his Bible. I say to Eric and to all of us who loved Victoria that we should remember what Jesus tells us in John 14: ‘Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.’

He closed his Bible. Victoria Barron Gibbs was born on January 12, 1941, in nearby Eula, Texas. The Barron family moved here to Tilson when she was 14, so that she could become the basketball star that we all knew. Eric started dating her immediately, and Tilson became her home. The closest she ever came to leaving Tilson was when she went to Abilene to attend Hardin Simmons University where she earned her schoolteacher’s degree and later her master’s degree. Victoria married Eric Gibbs one month after she graduated from Tilson High School. On May 19, 1978, when that drunken driver came out of nowhere and killed our beloved Victoria, she was only a few month into her 37th year.

Reverend Devers picked up his Bible and held it over his heart. Victoria is survived by Eric and those of us who loved her. Eric’s parents and Victoria’s parents have already gone to God, and their little baby only lived one day. Eric, we are your family now. I know the pain of your loss seem unbearable, but your friends and your church, and more importantly our God is here with you. We will be by your side every step you take through this terrible loss. Let us all be comforted knowing that Victoria is with God in a place where there will be no more strife, no more pain, and no more hardship. She will be bathed in God’s love for eternity. Amen.

Eric sat on the front pew of the church looking lost with Mrs Devers beside him holding his hand. He had no family, no children to comfort him. His parents were also killed in a car accident when he was 26. Victoria’s father died of a heart attack when he was only 42, and her mother died less than a year later of a broken heart.

Eric watched as the six pallbearers pick up the oaken casket and started up the aisle of the church. He knew he was to follow, but he didn’t have the strength to move. Reverend Devers helped him to his feet. God is with you, my son.

Tilson was a sleepy dusty town of 1,200 people in North Central Texas when Eric was born. Railroad tracks ran through the middle of town, and the only paved streets were the two streets that paralleled the tracks. All of the businesses were located along those two streets. There were two grocery stores—one on each side of the tracks, a five and dime, and two pharmacies—they were called drug stores in Tilson. There was also the office of the only attorney in town, the post office, the Tilson State Bank, and a funeral home where everybody ended up. The only business that stayed open after six was Thompson’s Café. It stayed open until 9:30 PM on weekdays and 10:00 PM on Saturday. On Sunday, it opened at 11:30 AM for those who didn’t want to cook dinner after church service, and it closed at 6:30 PM after the supper crowd left for evening church service.

Interstate 20 was put through in 1950. The route bypassed the town, so most businesses moved out to the interstate, leaving a virtual ghost town behind. Rather than a collection of small businesses within walking distance, the interstate created a linear strip-town on the side of the interstate that had the access road, and some of the friendly character went out of the town.

After the interstate went through, the only activity that thrived in what was left of Tilson was the post office, the Tilson State Bank, the schools and the churches. Tilson Elementary School with grades one through eight, and Tilson High School with grades nine through 12, were both located on the same campus. There was no kindergarten or preschool or many of the other nice things that larger communities took for granted.

About 75% of Tilson people attended either the First Baptist Church or the Cowboy Baptist Church where people didn’t dress up to attend service. Those who attended the First Baptist Church looked down their noses at those who attended the Cowboy Church in street clothes, but both churches were in the Southern Baptist Convention, which meant no dancing and definitely not the carnal sin of sex outside of marriage, and certainly not before marriage. If some unfortunate high school girl got pregnant, she was sent away to live with an aunt or cousin until she was no longer in a family way, and she could be seen in public again. When exile was over, mothers in their 40s and even 50s came home with newborn babies they claimed were theirs.

There were other churches in Tilson—a Methodist Church, a Church of Christ that didn’t believe in using musical instruments, and a Catholic Church with almost 40 members—but they hardly mattered, because well over 900 of the God-fearing people of Tilson were Baptists. Consequently dancing was not allowed anywhere in Tilson, and especially not in the schools. The closest thing to a high school prom was the annual Junior-Senior Banquet where teachers put on formal gowns or business suits and parents brought their junior or senior student dressed to the nines, and everyone had a nice banquet supper with some form of entertainment put on by high school students.

Before the banquet was over, a boy would be crowned Homecoming King and a girl would be crowned Homecoming Queen. They would be presented to the public at halftime during the homecoming football game. Both Eric and Victoria were so honored during their respective senior years.

The one thing that Tilson had in common with the rest of Texas was football. Just about every member of the 138 students in high school had something to do with football. All of the boys tried out for the team and most made it, because there weren’t enough boys to turn anyone away. The few boys who were too small sold tickets or worked concession stands, or helped the coach.

Eric Gibbs was a talented football player. He was All-District quarterback his senior year, but at five-feet 10-inches and 175 pounds, he was too small to earn a college football scholarship. His parents were too poor to pay for his education, so he knew his destiny was on his father’s farm.

Everyone in Tilson knew Eric and they knew his parents, Jordan and Callie. They were both fixtures in the First Baptist Church until their untimely death.

Tilson High School didn’t have enough money to buy instruments and uniforms for a band, so instead they had a Pep Squad in which virtually every high school girl participated. The six prettiest girls were elected cheerleader. Victoria Barron was on every boy’s list of most beautiful. She was five-feet four-inches tall with long, dark brown hair that hung well below her shoulders. Her brown eyes lit up when she smiled. She was cheerleader for three years and head cheerleader her senior year, along with being homecoming queen.

Football games were played on Friday afternoons, because the field was not lighted. All businesses in Tilson closed for the football game. If it was out of town, they drove in a convoy with the team to see the game. In Eric’s senior year, the towns people got tired of having businesses close on Friday afternoons, so they collected enough money to put lights around the football field, so the games could be played at night.

Chapter 2

Eric Gibbs sat with hollow eyes staring down into the hole where Victoria’s casket would soon be lowered. His thoughts drifted back to the first time he ever saw her.

He and Paul Franklyn, a good friend and classmate, watched the girl’s basketball team practice. It was the 1950s, a time of poodle skirts and crinoline petticoats that came down to mid-calf. The only time girls showed their legs was when they played sports, so naturally it attracted boys.

Eric watched a really pretty girl take the basketball, dribble toward the hoop, stop and shoot a shot that went swish through the hoop.

Who is that? he asked.

That’s Vicky Barron. They just moved here from Eula.

Eric watched her fight for the basketball. She took it away, turned and shot another basket that went in without hitting the rim. She was so young that her pretty legs seemed too long for her body.

Is she going with anybody? Eric asked.

"Eric, she’s a freshman—she’s in my sister’s room, so she’s only about 14."

So?

We juniors don’t date freshman.

Who says? Look at her; she’s a knockout.

Aren’t you going steady with Betty?

Yeah, but I’m not dead.

Betty Desmond was a junior like Eric and Paul. Even in first grade, Eric’s girlfriend was always Betty Desmond. Whenever anyone talked about their girlfriend, Eric always thought of Betty, but he was too shy to ask her out on a real date until they were sophomores. Now they had gone steady for over a year, and during that time they had taken each other’s virginity. Eric always took it for granted that one day he and Betty would marry and have a family, until he saw Victoria.

That weekend he was driving his old Ford into town and passed by a house that had previously been vacant. He saw Victoria Barron working out in the yard with her father. He pulled over in front of her house and called her over.

She knew who he was—every girl in school knew Eric Gibbs. He was a football hero. She was wearing black shorts and a black shirt that she brushed dirt off of as she came toward the car. As her hand drew the blouse close to her body, he could see how small and immature her breasts were, but that didn’t bother him at all.

Hi, she said timidly.

I saw you playing basketball yesterday. You’re good.

That’s why we moved here, so I could play for a big school.

Tilson is not big.

It is compared with Eula. Daddy thinks maybe I can get a basketball scholarship here.

"Is your dad a