Deer Clearing Falls

By Robert A. Conaway

In Deer Clearing Falls, readers take a spellbinding journey to apprehend three murderous brothers, before they can escape justice across the Mississippi River and disappear into the vast regions of the western territories.

In a quiet town in Virginia, three men move silently, under the cover of darkness, into the backdoor of the county jailhouse and brutally beat the town constable. Enraged by this act of violent behavior in his town, Judge Callaway commissions wealthy plantation owner, John Thomas, to go after and arrest these villains. The victim is his lifelong friend. The culprit is his lifetime nemesis, Carl Johnson, who is the product of an abusive, drunken, moonshiner father whose answer to discipline was wielding a razor strap across his children’s backs.

Enlisting the assistance of his brother, Jeremiah, and close friends, Nathan Smith, Eagle Dancer, and Bear Claws, John sets out to apprehend Carl Johnson and his brothers and bring them back for trial before they can strike again. As they charge towards their inevitable showdown, they must first ride through Deer Clearing Falls, an ancient mountain, whose breathtaking scenery captures their souls and forces them to face the realities of their innermost secrets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532066801

Robert A. Conaway

Robert Conaway is a retired United States naval officer. During his military career, he drafted numerous technical resource documents, relating to armed forces doctrine and technical training programs. He lives in Virginia with his wife Robin.

Book preview

Chapter One

John Thomas set his post dinner cup of coffee on the front porch railing, of his two story colonial mansion, and lighted his cigar. What a beautiful day this has been, he thought, while watching the blue-gray smoke drift slowly away on the refreshing breeze. The day’s crystal blue sky had transitioned into a purple heaven filled with the grandeur of faint puffy clouds that floated lazily across the western horizon. He took a deep breath and could smell the freshly turned soil in the fields. The enticing aroma intermixed perfectly with the scent of pine from the trees that lined the winding drive that led to his front porch. In the nearby pasture, livestock were grazing across dark green grass, providing the picturesque scene that he had enjoyed his entire life. As the final rays of light burst forward from the setting sun, he felt a smile of satisfaction come across his handsome face. He lifted his mug, of steaming hot coffee, and took in the pleasant smell of the brew before enjoying a drink. After returning the cup to the handrail, he took another long pull from his cigar and exhaled. As he watched the smoke float away, his mind wondered towards thoughtful considerations regarding the full scope of his life.

Forty years, forty years and this is all I have to show for it, John reflected while he stretched tall to relieve the painful kinks in his lower back. Ten years ago, his mother had passed away from a case of measles that had decimated the local community. Upon her death, he and his younger brother, Jeremiah, had inherited the Thomasville estate consisting of five-thousand acres of land, a centerpiece mansion, and greater wealth than a man could dispose of in two lifetimes.

In spite of his family’s good fortune, he felt restlessness in his soul that he could neither understand nor explain. Shortly after his mothers passing, a strong desire to relocate his family had been at the forefront of his every thought. Every time he felt as if he had successfully removed these thoughts from his mind, they would creep back in, like a fox raiding a henhouse, during the silent hours of darkness. Few people, who knew him, would ever imagine that he was unhappy with his life. He had a beautiful wife, four sons, wealth, and considerable political influence in the local community. Nevertheless, for John to feel he had created his own legacy, he needed to prove to himself that he could achieve his grandfather’s level of accomplishments based upon his own efforts.

He turned his gaze westward as the urge to settle his family in the new United States Federal Territories came over him. Far beyond the Mississippi River, in lands that were wild and untainted from the effects of modern civilization, were the opportunities he needed to experience his own destiny and start a new life for his family.

Manifest Destiny, he whispered while exhaling another long pull from his cigar. That is what they are calling it.

The recent conclusion of the Mexican-American war, coupled with the Annexation of Texas and the Oregon Territory, had forever changed the culture of the United States. The nation had not experienced such a large geographical expansion since the Louisiana Purchase, in 1803, during Thomas Jefferson’s presidency. America was evolving and bringing forth-tremendous opportunities for those individuals with the courage to take advantage of them.

John remembered vividly, the speculative craze that had swept through the United States following the War of 1812. He would sit with his younger brother, Jeremiah, and silently listen to his Grandpa Jake debate investment opportunities, within the new territories, with a group of local plantation owners. During those times, the wave of migration that had forged westward towards the Mississippi River had brought with it a lasting impact on the economy and a dynamic shift in the national census data. Like now, those vast regions of rich soil, wildlife, and huge forest had drawn Americans onward with hopeful dreams of a better life for their families.

John engaged in these sessions of private reflection whenever he had to make a hard decision. He understood the significant impact his families’ departure would have, on a multitude of individuals, within the local community. As he dwelled on these responsibilities, he also wondered how he would ever be able to approach his family when it came time for them to go.

Following her evening chores, Treecie Adams Thomas walked to the front entrance of the mansion and silently gazed at her husband through the open door. Treecie, who had been John’s wife for nearly twenty years, would normally not venture onto the porch in the evening. She respected his need for privacy, which he so rarely received, while he worked through the colossal tasks associated with managing the Thomasville Plantation. During supper that evening, she had sensed a distraction in him that had troubled her. His normal participation in the family conversations and lively discussions with the boys had been missing. It seemed as if his mind was in another place. When he did speak, she felt that his sky-blue eyes were peering right through her and the children. She knew something was troubling him and was determined to find out what it was.

My goodness, how I love that man, Treecie thought, as she stared dreamily at him for a few moments, before stepping onto the porch. She had always been thankful that a man who stood six-feet, five-inches tall, with a physique that appeared to be chiseled from a piece of marble, could possess such a gentle nature. She loved his dark-brown shoulder length hair, which had a natural wave to its texture, and had always melted like butter whenever she peered into his eyes, which were as blue as the sky on a spring day. She considered briefly the air of confidence that radiated from his perfectly constructed face, with its well-rounded mouth, narrow nose, and white teeth that shined bright when he smiled. Of all of the blessings that she had enjoyed over the years, John, and her children were the human treasures she locked away in her heart that carried her through life with tremendous joy and happiness.

John sensed Treecie’s presence. Waiting for her to speak, he chased down another long pull from his cigar with a flavorful drink of coffee.

May I join you? She asked, as she stepped onto the front porch.

Sure, I ain’t doing anything. Are the boys asleep?

No, but it won’t be long. She lifted his cup of coffee and sipped it slowly. They wore themselves out completely today, working with you in the fields.

There is a bad storm brewing. I need to make sure the livestock are settled for the night. He sensed the animals’ restlessness when he heard the anxious hammering of hooves on the hard packed soil in the corral, and the periodic nervous bellow that rolled through the thick humid air of the surrounding darkness.

It isn’t the livestock that I am concerned about, she said with a chuckle, before setting the coffee cup back on the handrail.

You worry too much, woman.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and gently laid her head upon his broad shoulders.

What would you think about taking the boys into Clearwater tomorrow, if the weather isn’t too bad? He asked. I need to pick-up supplies and take care of some business.

I know the boys would enjoy that, she whispered. It’s been several weeks since we took them off as a family. Will you be coming inside soon?

John pulled her close and stroked an unruly piece of blonde hair from her eyes. I will be along shortly.

Treecie felt a girlish sense of security come over her, as she lay nestled in his massive arms and peered deeply into his eyes.

You are truly a blessing to me, John Thomas. I don’t think a woman could ask for a better husband or friend.

He kissed her softly and felt the warmth on his face as a blushing glow spread across his cheeks. They remained in a loving embrace, for several more moments, before Treecie turned to walk back into the house. Watching her disappear through the open door and glide down the ornate foyer, he recalled the first time that he had felt love for her.

On Treecie’s first day of school, Mr. Nichols, the schoolmaster, had asked her if she would introduce herself to the other children. John recalled his grandfather discussing a new family that had moved to the area, from Charleston, South Carolina, but had no idea that they had brought with them one of the most beautiful creatures that he had ever seen in his young life.

His recollection of the conversation was that Grandpa Jake had invested in a textile exporting business, during a plantation conference three years ago, and the elderly couple who owned the business was moving here to assist in the expansion. The fact that her parents were elderly was true. John was just having difficulty correlating this young beautiful girl with parents the age of his grandfather. He would find out later that her parents had felt like God had truly blessed them when Treecie was born following a series of frustrating miscarriages.

Following attendance, Mr. Nichols had called upon Treecie to make her introduction. With youthful grace and dignity, she had risen from her desk and moved shyly towards the front of the classroom. Forever implanted in John’s consciousness was the image of her petite five-foot, four-inch frame as she turned to face the students in front of the schoolmaster’s desk. When their eyes had met, John recalled how his face had blushed crimson red accompanied by a warm sensation that had flowed through his body like molten lava from a volcano. He remembered her nervous smile, which accented her thin mouth, straight and narrow nose, and cute dimples that highlighted her perfect features. The light blue bonnet, she had worn that day, covered her blonde hair and made her luscious green eyes appear to have a shade of blue in them.

He took another swallow of coffee and twirled his cigar in the tin bowl that he was using as an ashtray. Treecie pulled me head over heels into that web, he thought, exhaling a soft chuckle. While taking another long draw from his cigar, he recalled the rest of that morning as if it was yesterday. John had decided he would formally introduce himself to Miss Adams during the first recess that morning. He spent the next couple of tortuous hours fumbling with his books while staring mindlessly at the portrait of George Washington that hung majestically at the front of the room.

When the schoolmaster had announced the break, twenty whooping children had exploded from the classroom to enjoy a bit of fun prior to their next lessons. John had held back from everyone in an attempt to gain the courage he would need to approach her. When he walked through the front entrance of the building, he observed Treecie and several other schoolchildren standing beside a rope swing that was suspended from an old oak tree.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and swallowed hard to relieve the dryness in his parched mouth that had resulted from the anticipation of being close to her. Apparently, I was not the only person fascinated by this new student, John had considered when he saw the other students gathering around her. With his courage bolstered, he began his move towards her and the other children. As he crossed the lawn, towards the old oak tree, he observed Carl, Jack, and Ralph Johnson emerging from a stand of pine trees that lined the drive leading to the front of the building. When Mr. Nichols had introduced her to the class that morning, John had noticed the oldest of the brothers, Carl, admiring her as well.

The Johnson brothers were the county troublemakers, with a well-deserved reputation for mischief. Their father, George Johnson, had reared them following the death of their mother, Sadie, five years before. George had never recovered from the loss of his wife and spent most of his time swimming in the bottom of a bottle of moonshine whiskey that he produced on his two-hundred acre farm. Due to his drunkenness, his sons roamed the county causing trouble, while he brooded on his neglected farm and sank ever deeper into the abyss of his pathetic life. Whenever possible, John avoided the Johnson family. He recalled his mother telling him once, That no good would ever come to a man who lived by the spirits.

John remembered how the schoolchildren had scattered, like frightened field mice, when they had seen Carl and his brothers approaching the rope swing. Standing alone and defenseless, like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wild dogs, Treecie had seen the lustfully sinister expression on Carl’s face that betrayed his threatening intentions.

Good morning, fellas’. I am Treecie Adams. What are your names? She had asked nervously.

I’m Carl, Carl Johnson, and these are my brothers, Ralph, and Jack. He replied.

Her courage had wavered even further when Carl had flashed his devilish crooked grin, which coincided perfectly with his uncombed hair that hung shoulder length on a soiled and tattered shirt.

When Treecie attempted to leave, Carl had placed his dirty hands upon her shoulders.

Just wait a minute missy, you ain’t going anywhere.

Ralph and Jack tightened the circle around her, which effectively blocked any possibility for her to escape. Treecie felt her fear escalate even higher when Carl attempted to wrap his arms around her waist.

Leave her alone, Carl! John exclaimed, in a commanding young voice.

Stay out of this, Thomas, I will leave enough fer’ ya’, Carl announced, without taking his lustful cold eyes off Treecie.

I said, leave her alone!

John felt his anger rising, from deep within him, as he braced himself for the confrontation he knew was to follow. As Carl slowly turned to face him, John observed Ralph and Jack sneaking into position behind him.

Right before things escalated into a brawl, Mr. Nichols had arrived. He stood before them holding his discipline stick firmly in his huge hands. His hard staring gaze left no doubt in the boys mind that he was serious.

What is going on here, gentlemen? He demanded in a stern voice.

Nothing, sir, Ralph said innocently.

Attempting to lie to me will only make your situation worse, Ralph Johnson. I have had about enough of your behavior. One more incident will result in your expulsion from school, Mr. Nichols had stated in his growling low voice.

While Carl scrambled to talk his way out of his predicament, Treecie had taken the opportunity to run back into the school, with her long cotton dress flowing in the breeze behind her.

Mr. Nichols pointed his menacing stick towards the school building. I want you boys to return to class immediately. John, I am surprised that you were involved in an incident like this.

I was just trying to help out the new girl, John explained apologetically.

I understand what you were trying to do, Master Thomas. Regardless, I do not want you to associate yourself with a bad incident like this again. If you sense trouble in the future, I want you to report it to me directly. Do you understand?

Yes sir, Mr. Nichols. Please accept my apology.

Now go on back to class.

An affectionate smile appeared on Mr. Nichols weathered face as he watched him walking towards the schoolhouse entrance. He could not help but recognize the potential of this young boy. He knew that someday, John Thomas was going to develop into quite a man.

John had heard a scream that afternoon, as he was riding home on the back of a pale gray mare with his brother, Jeremiah. Following the passing of their father, Jer, as his family called him, had shadowed his older brother everywhere. He could easily have passed as an identical twin, to his older brother, despite a slightly smaller stature and two-year age difference.

Did you hear that? John yelled.

I sure did!

John spurred the mare into a canter. Hang on!

Arriving at a small clearing, John and Jeremiah saw Ralph and Jack Johnson holding Treecie, while Carl was attempting to kiss her. She was struggling hard to resist their unwanted advances. Nevertheless, her kicks fell short without deterring her persistent attackers. About twenty yards from the boys, John pulled back on the reins, helped Jeremiah down from the horse, and dismounted. The two of them ran towards Treecie’s assailants, with John tackling Carl on the run. Jer followed John into the fray and caught Ralph Johnson with a solid right fist to his left jaw. Jack, who was standing beside Ralph, tried to kick Jer but he blocked it with his arm held to his side. The roundhouse punch Jer countered with managed to catch Jack on the shoulder with little effect.

Run home, Treecie! John shouted, before Carl sucker punched him with a left jab to the mouth. Despite seeing a few stars, John kicked Carl in the right kneecap with considerable force. Carl let out a yelp, dropped his guard, and began to hop around on his good leg. Jack jumped on John’s back, and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. Once Jeremiah had finished with Ralph, he came up behind his brother and landed a solid punch into Jack’s kidneys. At the same time, Carl recovered from John’s kick and attempted to deliver a hard right fist to John’s head. John successfully dodged the punch, before it landed squarely on Jack’s jaw. Jack fell to the ground wincing in pain from the double strike. With his situation deteriorating, Carl backed off to re-evaluate his next move.

Come on, come on if you want some more! John yelled at Carl, with his fists held high in a defensive stance. Realizing that Carl was finished, John grabbed him by the shirt. As he peered down at Carl, with fire in his sky-blue eyes, he said in a calm, firm voice, You stay away from Treecie Adams. You come near her again, and I will finish this fight. Come on Jeremiah, let’s go home.

After helping Jer onto the mare, John took a fleeting glimpse towards the brothers. As they were riding away from the clearing, Carl had shot a cold vengeful look at John and Jeremiah. John had a hunch that this incident, between him and the Johnson brothers, was not the end of their troubles.

A few miles up the path, they had found Treecie sitting on top of an old tree stump. She had looked at them, with genuine concern in her eyes, as she began walking towards the pale-gray mare. Are you boys alright? she had asked with a silky voice blended perfectly with a soft southern accent.

We are fine, Miss Adams. If you would like some company, it would be our pleasure to escort you the rest of your way home, Jeremiah replied after they dismounted.

I don’t believe they will be bothering you again, John added with an encouraging smile on his bruised face.

I would like for you to accompany me home, gentlemen. I am not much for violence. However, I am grateful that you two came to my rescue when you did, Treecie said, before reaching up with a handkerchief to dab blood from John’s split and swollen lips. You are hurt, John Thomas.

Aw shucks, it ain’t nothin’, he responded with his boyish smile surrounded by blushed cheeks. It was our pleasure to assist you. You ought to stay away from Carl, Ralph, and Jack Johnson in the future. Their father is a bad one as well, John added seriously.

With the gray mare, trailing closely behind them, John and Jeremiah had accompanied Treecie along the tree-lined road towards her parents. It was nearly dark when they strolled up the path and saw Mr. and Mrs. Adams waiting nervously on the front porch. After Treecie had finished explaining the day’s events to her father, he had thanked John and Jeremiah for their assistance and had extended an invitation to them for dinner the following Saturday. From that day forward, John could not remember a time that he was not with or thinking about Treecie. His entire universe had become one with hers, and the thought of life without her was frightening.

John’s journey down memory lane abruptly ended when a flash of lightening filled the horizon followed by thunder that exploded like a cannon on a military parade ground. Huge lumbering clouds were now obstructing his view, of the star-filled sky, alerting him to the fact that the storm was approaching quicker than he had expected. John decided to tend to the animals, before he had a real mess on his hands. He extinguished his cigar, tossed out the cold remains of the coffee, and stepped off the porch. Walking towards the barn reminded him of the times he would accompany his Grandpa Jake, to secure the horses, following a long day in the fields. Like John, his grandfather was a mountain of a man, who had commanded respect from anyone who came in is presence.

Jacob Liam Thomas, John’s Grandfather, had immigrated to America from Great Britain at the conclusion of the Revolutionary War. His grandfather was always thankful that he had come to the new world and settled in Virginia. This rich land, with its newly discovered democracy, had drawn him from the old country like metal shavings to a magnet. John struggled at times, with the responsibilities that went with filling his grandfather’s shoes. The legacy that he had left behind, over the past eighty years, had cast a long shadow across every piece of the Thomasville estate.

John glanced towards the west when another streak of lightning tore across the storm-filled sky and cast a foreboding illumination across the open pastures. He smiled reflectively when the image of his grandfather, kneeling on the edge of a field, scooping dirt with his hands and allowing it to sift slowly through his huge fingers, entered his mind. John had always felt that his Grandpa Jake was willing the soil to produce the crops he needed, to feed his growing family and sustain his livestock, whenever he had seen him performing this tiny ritual of passion for the land that he so dearly loved.

Following the tragic death of John’s father, his relationship with his grandfather had been extremely close. From daybreak until sunset, John would run behind the big man until he was so tired that he would have to carry him on his broad shoulders to the house. John still missed sitting in the open pastures, with his grandfather, listening to him discuss their life in Virginia and how grateful that he was for the blessings that God had bestowed upon him. Before his death, John’s father would try to encourage Grandpa Jake not to tell his grandson so many stories. John had always doubted his father’s seriousness when he recalled his parents smiling at this gentle giant of a man patiently answering every question his grandson asked. John had come to realize that his Grandfather’s attention was for a much larger purpose. His motives were to prepare him to inherit the estate that he was building for his family. He remembered how devastated Grandpa Jake had been after John’s father had passed away. With sons of his own, he had a deeper appreciation of how terrible the loss must have been for him.

The animals had become extremely restless, by the time John arrived at the barn. He had always found it amazing how a horse could sense a storm or trouble, on the horizon, several hours before he could. After stepping inside, he lighted a lantern that produced a warm glow within the confines of the spacious structure. He walked past the long line of stables, opened the back door, which provided access to the livestock corral, and led the horses into their stalls. With the animals safe and sound, John moved to the hayloft and pitched hay toward the feeding troughs. Grandpa Jake sure knew how to layout a barn, he thought. It really makes it easy to take care of things. Before returning to the house, John moseyed over to his prize stallion, Gabriel, and rubbed him on the nose. It’s going to be a rough one tonight, old friend, he whispered affectionately, while holding some loose hay in front of Gabriel’s nose. As he was dropping the front door locking bar into place, he felt the first raindrops fall against his face. He looked towards the sky at the threatening storm that had gotten worse, during the time he had been inside the barn. Without hesitating, he ran to the porch and stood there for a while longer, before he reluctantly turned to go inside the house.

When he entered the foyer, he hung his hat on the hall tree, and then walked down the long foyer towards the parlor. He found Treecie sitting on the sofa, in front of the fireplace, working on some of the children’s clothing by candlelight.

Is everything secured? She asked, without looking up from her work.

Yea, it’s locked up tighter than a drum and none too soon. It looks like this rain is going to be around for a couple of days, with the way it’s blowing outside.

The storm was really pounding now, with hard driving rain smashing against lead glass windows and rolling from the roof of the mansion like a river. Strong cracks of thunder reverberated through the residence, following streaks of lightning that illuminated the inside of the family sitting area and cast eerie shadows on the walls.

I don’t think we’ll be going into Clearwater tomorrow. With all of this mud, it will probably be a few days before the roads are dry enough for us to take the wagon. There is also the possibility of flooding from the river. If it clears, I may take two of the saddle horses, a couple of pack mules, and little Jake with me day after tomorrow into town. We will probably be gone a couple of days. I want to go hunting and see if we can bring in some fresh meat on our way back to Thomasville.

Do you think Jake is old enough for that? She protested.

The boy will be sixteen years old his next birthday. He needs to start getting more involved in running this place. I know how you feel about the boys being around firearms, but it really is essential that they learn to live off of the land as young as possible.

You sound just like your grandfather, John Thomas! she said, suppressing a smile.

Treecie knew he would never let anything happen to his family. Nevertheless, when it came to her children’s safety, she could be as vicious as a wild mountain lion protecting her den. When he sat down beside her on the sofa, he reached over and softly touched her hand. In the quiet refuge of their home, she leaned her head against him, silently listening to the raging storm that was playing its foreboding melody around them. John looked over and noticed that her eyes were shut, her chin lay on her chest, and she had a soft smile across her lips. He stood quietly, placed the boy’s clothing that she had been working on beside her, lifted her in his arms, and then carried her upstairs to bed.

Chapter Two

John awoke the following morning to the sound of rain hammering against the roof. The accompanying thunder reminded him of his time with the Virginia State Militia when a battery of artillery would unleash their deadly salvos across the battlefield. He briefly considered what effect the quagmire around the mansion would have on his day. Treecie lay beside him, with her head resting on his chest. She could feel his heart beating and the caress of his breath across her cheek.

Looks like you were right about the weather, she whispered. It doesn’t appear that we will be taking the boys into Clearwater anytime soon. I’m going downstairs and start breakfast. Is there anything special that you would like to have this morning?

I’m not very hungry. Just fix me some coffee and I’ll throw some jam on one of those special biscuits of yours. He replied, while he ran his fingers through her hair and gazed affectionately into her bright green eyes.

When Treecie rolled out of bed, he reached over and mischievously tapped her on the rump. She pounced on his chest, threw his arms above his head, and then gently kissed him on the forehead.

I have something to tell you, she said with a playful smile.

And what would that be, Mrs. Thomas?

She smiled and chuckled. I am going to have another baby.

Are you sure?

Yep, I hope this time it will be a girl. It would be nice to have some help around here to keep you men in line.

John wrapped his arms around her as he rolled her beside him. For the next few moments, they lay there in silence with the sound of the storm tapping a steady rhythm on the lead glass windows.

You know how much I love you? He asked in a soft whisper. I hope it will be a girl this time. I know how much that would mean to you.

She kissed him on the cheek before pulling herself out of bed. I’ll see you downstairs. I want to tell the boys this morning, she stated excitedly.

Treecie dressed with a sense of relief at being able to share the news with John. He lay there watching her while he considered the consequences of what she had told him. With a new baby on the way, he knew they would have to delay moving the family out west for at least two years. A journey like that was going to be arduous enough, without taking a chance on endangering a new infant.

He rolled out of bed, stretched, and dressed quietly. The image of Treecie cuddling their new daughter this winter, in front of the fireplace, brought a sense of satisfaction over him that reached to his soul. They had hoped their last child was going to be a girl. However, all they had been able to muster so far was one son after another. On the other hand, his brother, Jeremiah, had three wonderful young girls in his household. His wife, Mary, faced the opposite predicament of longing to have a son. It is funny how life worked