The Lady of Castanola: The Donaghue Histories, #6

By C. Jane Reid

Lucy, you can't trust a man like that.

Lucy Donaghue can't get out of Indiana fast enough. The meandering pace of her hometown where everyone knows everybody else is about as exciting as watching the mill stone turn. She wants a crowded city with fascinating strangers and a chance to become someone new. The tiny town where she ends up is nowhere she'd choose.

I'd stay clear of that lady.

Omer Pierson is done with wandering. Exploring the west holds more discomfort than excitement anymore, and his gun arm is tired. He turns his exhausted mustang toward West Texas with a dream of living a quiet life. Finding conflict and threat in the little town he calls home makes returning to the trail more appealing.

When feisty Lucy encounters the stoic Omer in Castanola, Texas, the town, and the two of them, will never be the same.

The Lady of Castanola, set in 1880 Texas, is the sixth book in the saga of the Donaghue family. Each book follows the next generation of the family against the backdrop of the developing United States and features historical detail, strong individuals and their craftiness, and a crochet pattern by designer Laurinda Reddig.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spinning Tales Press
• Release date: Aug 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393013570

C. Jane Reid

C. Jane lives in the Pacific Northwest where she loves the rain because it makes being a writer even easier with few bright, sunny days to draw her out of the house. She credits her upbringing in Indiana and her early adulthood in the West Texas Panhandle for her fascination with family history. Much like her characters, her own extended family live within a few towns (or at times only a cornfield) from each other. She spends much of her free time avoiding laundry and dishes by searching the web for interesting facts on things like how to make pawpaw jelly and the steps to loading a flintlock rifle. She loves old maps, old books, and old handcrafts. She also keeps a genealogy of all her characters but sadly hasn’t had time to work on the one for her own family. Life is funny like that. If you would like to learn more about her books and research, you can find more information on her website: www.cjanereid.com

Book preview

To the West Texas ladies in my life:

My mother-in-law, Bessie,

Her sister, Jackie,

Their mother, Nada,

Their grandmother, Bessie.

Thank you for welcoming into your family all those years ago and for giving me a chance to see what it is to be a West Texan. I love it.

Also, thank you for raising such a great man that I’m fortunate to call my husband.

Town of Castanola, Texas

A Partial List

Townsfolk

ARVEL KINNEY (OWNS the Mercantile)

Tooter & Hitch Hasley (own the Livery)

Darlene & son Bryer Pinney (owns the boarding house and laundry)

Barnaby & Jenny Wilson (Town Barber and Dentist)

Tarleton Deering (Cartwright and Carpenter)

Nesto Delagarza

Starkey Ranch

Pops Starkey (owner)

Ranch Hands: L.R (Tooter and Hitch’s son)

Dutch

Ned

Cody

Meadowgrove Ranch

Hugh and Nora Suthby (owner)

Ranch Hands: Roan

Evan

Hotspur

Poke

Bobby

Trench

Russell

Local Homesteaders

BICKY SUTHBY

Lendell Hays and family

Grady Andrews

Keith Muncy

Stephen Upton and family

Part One

Chapter One

METAMORA, IN

April 1880

Lucy gave old Patch a pat on the neck before running the brush over his swayed back. Flecks of winter hair swirled into the air, coating her arms and landing on her blouse. She’d be a mess when she was finished, but Lucy didn’t care. It was the last time she’d be able to curry the old mule. She figured she could brush off most of the white and brown hair during her long walk to Laurel.

This is it, boy, she told the old mule. I’m leaving.

He lipped the grass and twitched his long ears at the sound of her voice.

I’m going to see cities, Patch. Big ones with cobbled streets and fancy folks who go to fancy places in fancy carriages with not a mule in sight.

Patch raised his head and swung it around to look at her with a cloudy eye. Lucy’s chest tightened. She threw her arms around his hollow neck, heedless of the dust and hair that would coat her blouse.

I’ll miss you, boy, she told him with a choked voice.

Leaving the farm was harder than she thought, but she forced herself onward without a glance back.

It’s time. I’m ready.

Her parents would fret as parents did and wonder where she’d gone.

I’ll send them news as soon as I’m in Louisville.

By the time the letter reached Metamora, it would be too late for her dad to follow after, not with the spring planting and the lambing upon them. He might find out she’d gone to Laurel, but from there she could go in any direction and he’d be hard-pressed to follow. She and Stead had a plan. And Stead was waiting for her.

Lucy’s heartbeat raced when she thought of Stead.

She’d met him in the evening four days ago when she was working for her grandma at the hotel. She’d been helping hot-iron the linens when Grandma found her.

Can you take the drinks tray to the back room, Lucy? she asked in an anxious voice. There’s some trouble upstairs and Otis needs my help.

A thrill raced through Lucy. She’d never been allowed to go into the backroom before.

Of course, Grandma.

You just set it inside and scoot right out, Grandma warned. Don’t you go lingering. Nan wouldn’t thank me if she knew I was letting you go in there.

Mom wouldn’t be at all happy to know where I’m going.

I won’t, Grandma, Lucy promised.

She took off her apron and hurried to the kitchen. She smoothed down her skirts and pulled her black hair from its twist and shook it out, letting the waves fall freely across her shoulders and down her back. There was a stranger in the back room, newly come to Metamora, and she’d heard the women talking about how handsome he was.

Maybe he’ll notice me.

She was tired of the awkward attempts the farm boys made to entice her into sloppy kisses. Or the way the local widowers looked her over as if appraising her usefulness. She wanted to know if she was more than a marriage prospect of convenience.

The door to the back room was open slightly. She could hear a few muttered words in low, male voices but didn’t immediately recognize any of them.

She pushed the door open with her hip, careful to balance the tray of drinks her dad would disapprove of. A round table took up most of the room, studded by playing cards and holding a small pile of paper money in the center. The eight chairs were filled with barge pilots and mule-drivers and a couple of farmhands. She knew them all by sight. All but the black-coated stranger seated across the room.

The stranger looked up from his cards and those dark eyes pinned her in place. His gaze swept the length of her with a slow, speculative look that made her knees weaken. She forgot where she was, staring at his handsomely cut face and polished hair and carefully shaved jaw. His coat was brushed and looked new from the tailor next to the dusty, grimy farmhands and worn, patched canal drivers.

Her heart pounded. She couldn’t move under the careful study he was making of her. No one had looked at her that way, like he was drinking in the sight of her and wanting more.

He slowly quirked a sideways smile that turned his thirsty look into a warm welcome.

Can I help you with them drinks, Luce? Billy Cohen asked, standing from the table. The farmhand gave her the same eager, hopeful smile he’d been giving her since the time they’d both turned fifteen. Five years of his awkward courting had been five years too many, but she’d endured it politely for the sake of the town’s expectations.

Not tonight.

No, thank you, Billy, she said with a dismissive tone. Billy’s expression fell, but she wasn’t remorseful. She’d been letting him hope for too long as it was.

She glanced at the stranger and found him still grinning at her, this time with a gleam in his dark eyes. Answering that smile with one of her own, she carried the drinks tray to the sideboard along the wall. She could feel the stranger watching her.

We playin’, Stead, or we window shoppin’? one of the barge pilots asked, drawing the stranger’s attention back to the game.

Lucy’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but she forced herself to stroll to the door, wishing she could lay into that barge pilot. She wasn’t going to let a little discomfort chase her off like a frightened schoolgirl.

Well, this isn’t much of a game, she heard the stranger answer with a slow drawl in his voice that sent shivers up her spine. But I suppose we should finish it.

As Lucy pulled the door closed, she dared one last look inside.

The stranger was watching her with curiosity. And question.

She gave him a daring smile and shut the door.

It was impossible to concentrate on her work after that. All she could think of was his intense study of her and the fact that he was sitting in the backroom only yards from where she worked.

The next day she made some excuse to go into town. Her younger sister begged to go with her, but the last thing Lucy wanted was an eleven-year-old pestering her the entire time, so she’d sent Hannah away to help fold the linens, promising to wait for her, and left as soon as she was out of sight without a second thought.

Lucy thought to try the hotel first. It was still early enough that guests would be taking their breakfast in the parlor if they slept late.

He must probably be one of those, she thought, and the image of him twined in blankets on one of the narrow, hotel beds quickened her pulse.

But as she neared the hotel, she heard that amused drawl coming from the docks.

He stood with one of the barge pilots in conversation. He was turned just enough that Lucy could take all of him in, from his brushed black coat and string tie to his silver belt buckle and silver-tipped boots. And was that a pistol strapped to the belt? She couldn’t quite tell with the way the long coat fell, but just the thought of it made her breath hitch with excitement.

His hair was once more polished into place except for a stray lock that fell across his forehead. He was as clean-shaved as the night before, and his jaw was chiseled and strong. He looked out of place on the docks of the canals, like a black thoroughbred among plodding draft horses.

He glanced her way and his smile made her mouth go dry.

A quick handshake with the pilot and then he was moving toward her with long, lean strides. She stood frozen in place, her breath coming quicker as he neared. She noticed he carried a black hat, its brim just wide enough to curl upwards on each side, with a hatband of silver conchos. As he reached her, he lifted the hat in greeting as though pulling it from his perfect hair and half-bowed to her.

Good morning, miss, he said with that lovely drawl and knee-weakening smile.

Sir. She wanted to dip in a curtsy like the ladies in the dime novels, but she’d never done so before and knew she’d make a mess of it.

Stead, he said, holding out his hand to her. Stead Sanders.

Lucy Donaghue. She took his hand carefully and found it warm and secure. He wrapped his long fingers around her hand, enveloping it, and she thought for a moment he might lift it to his lips, but then he released her. He was watching her with a knowing look as if he’d read her thoughts. Her cheeks warmed and she hated how easily she blushed.

A pleasure, Miss Donaghue. His gaze fixed on her and she couldn’t look away. The rest of the town, with its folk hurrying down the street on some errand or other, fell away.

Lucy, please, she told him in a moment of daring.

His smile turned into a grin. Lucy.

The sound of that drawl around her name sent shivers through her.

I've newly come to your quaint, little town, he said, grinning still. Could you recommend any sights I shouldn’t miss?

The way he said it made Lucy think that he couldn’t care less about the town. She smiled.

I could show you a few if you like.

I’d like that very much. His gaze was intense and she flushed. She glanced away shyly, only to find most of the townsfolk watching them with a mixture of expressions ranging from curious to disapproving. Lucy stared back at them defiantly, which sent most of them hurrying about their business as if they hadn’t noticed a thing, but she knew that before the day was out, all of Metamora would know that Lucy Donaghue had spoken alone to the handsome newcomer.

The damage was done. So it was with the same defiance, and a pressing need to spend more time with Stead, that Lucy showed him around town. She took him first to the grist mill where he glanced at the water wheel before gazing back at her again, sending her pulse pounding once more. They walked to the aqueduct, which caught his attention a little more, but not for long before he turned back to her. He asked questions about the town as they walked as if to keep her talking, and she answered just enough to encourage him to ask more questions.

When there was nothing more she could show him of the town, Lucy confessed that she should return home.

Perhaps, Stead said before she left, there are a few places outside of town that I should see?

Lucy flushed, but this time she didn’t turn away. He looked amused, but the glimmer in his eyes was full of meaning.

I can think of a few, she answered breathlessly.

LUCY, YOU CAN’T TRUST a man like that.

Lucy sat on the davenport before her parents, stoically staring at her hands folded in her lap. It hadn’t taken long for them to get word of her indiscretion of walking out alone with a strange man. Dad had his arms crossed, the cords of muscles in his bare arms showing his displeasure more than his calm voice would. Mom stood beside him, and Lucy was hard-pressed not to squirm under her dismay, so she kept her eyes cast downward.

I understand why you might find him interesting, Dad continued. He’s new to town, and we’ve never had his kind through here before.

Lucy flinched when her dad said, his kind.

It isn’t like Stead is something crawling out of the canal.

But you can’t trust a man like that, he repeated. He isn’t the type to stay in a place like this.

Lucy had to bite the inside of her cheek to silence her retort.

They don’t know, and if they did, they couldn’t possibly understand how much I want out of Metamora.

She didn’t want a man who would be content to settle in a small town. And her dad was right. Stead would never stay in a place like this.

Lucy— Dad began again, but he fell suddenly silent. She glanced up to see that her mom had taken hold of his arm.

I’ll talk to her, Bradley, Mom said quietly. You should call the children in for supper.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, her dad walked away.

Her mom sat on the davenport next to her and laid her hands over Lucy’s. I know you aren’t happy, Lucy, she said in a hushed voice.

Startled, Lucy looked up to find her mom smiling sadly.

I can see it in you, she continued. I’ve seen it before. We won’t force you to stay here if you’re called to something bigger. But I’m not sure you know what that is yet.

Lucy swallowed hard.

Give it time, Lucy. Her mom stroked Lucy’s hair back from her face with a gentle if calloused hand. You’ve time yet to figure out what you want.

Lucy looked down again. I know what I want.

Her mom must have taken that for agreement for she leaned forward to place a kiss on top of Lucy’s head before rising.

Lucy watched her go into the kitchen to finish yet another meal for the six of them. And then she’d wash yet another set of dishes and cookware and dry them and put them away. She’d see Lucy’s three siblings to bed before sitting near the lamp to darn socks or patch holes or crochet her next creation for the Shearing Fair. And in the morning, it would start all over again. The cooking, the cleaning, the washing, the folding. Helping Dad in the fields. Schooling the children. Endless chores. Endless responsibilities.

No. That’s not the life I want.

The next morning after breakfast, Lucy gathered enough spare eggs to justify a trip into town.

Grandma was hoping for more eggs, Lucy lied smoothly. I told her I’d bring some over.

Her mom wiped her hands clean of the dishwater and folded the damp towel. I should go into town with you, she said, to see your Grandpa. Lucy hid her alarm. I’d be happy for the company.

Lee ran into the kitchen with dusty pants and a dirt-smeared face. Momma, Momma, he shouted though they were all standing right there. Lucy fought not to roll her eyes at the seven-year-old. Daddy says to come quick. The ram got out again.

Mom pursed her lips together, the only sign of annoyance she would allow. All right. Lucy, you take those eggs to your grandma, but I don’t expect to hear that you’ve seen that man again. She leveled a stern look at Lucy.

Yes, ma’am, Lucy answered as contritely as she could manage with her heart pounding.

Mom followed Lee from the house, hurrying toward the field. As soon as they were out of sight, Lucy rushed to the room she shared with her sisters, ran a brush through her hair and dusted off her blouse as best she could before leaving the house. She had to double-back for the basket of eggs.

She took the trail toward town to get there faster. It let out on the towpath. The canal was empty of barges and the early spring day was filled with bird song and a clear blue sky. Grinning wildly, Lucy walked as quickly as she could to town and went right to the hotel.

I brought some eggs, Grandma, she said when she reached the kitchen. Grandma was supervising Delia and Jude’s youngest granddaughter on the art of cutting out biscuits.

That was kind of you, sweetheart.

Lucy wanted to ask after Stead, but she didn’t dare. She lingered, uncertain, and found her grandma watching her with a look as surprisingly stern as her mom’s had been. Her grandma was usually such a sweet woman. Lucy couldn’t remember her getting such a look before. 

You’d best head straight back home, Lucy, she told her.

I will, Lucy answered, though this time guilt dug at her for the lie.

Her grandma nodded and returned to imparting the fine art of biscuit-making that Lucy remembered so well.

Lucy strolled through the main floor of the hotel, hoping to spy Stead. A handful of guests were taking breakfast in the parlor, but he wasn’t among them. She didn’t dare go upstairs without an excellent reason, so she left the hotel. He wasn’t on the dock near the barge tied there, and she couldn’t glimpse him down the main street. Lucy bit her lip in frustration.

Has he left town already? A barge left yesterday afternoon. He’d been speaking to the pilot.

Her stomach sank at the thought.

But then why would Grandma be trying to send me home so quickly?

Lucy smiled. He had to be in town yet. But where?

The main street of the town wasn’t that long. She walked it as though on an errand, but she kept careful watch for Stead. And was rewarded by finding him near the aqueduct.

Her insides fluttered with butterflies as she walked past the aqueduct and saw him watching her. He smiled, and she smiled in return, then instead of approaching him, she turned pointedly to walk the towpath leading out of town. She wanted desperately to look behind her to see if he was following as she passed the mill. Instead, she kept walking, putting the town behind her.

She felt his presence before she saw him. He came up next to her, making her feel small and feminine next to his taller, stronger frame.

Where shall we walk today? he asked as if unalarmed by their unconventional departure from town.

There’s a lock not too far up the canal, she answered, trying to keep the breathlessness from her voice. He was such an overwhelming presence next to her.

That might be interesting.

She could tell he wasn’t at all interested in the lock. It was hard not to skip with pleasure at the realization that he was going along to be with her.

I confess, he said after a span of silence, as quaint as I find your small town, it doesn’t hold a candle to New Orleans.

She stopped to stare up at him. You’ve been to New Orleans?

New Orleans, New York, even New Jersey. He leaned closer. She could smell the musky cologne he wore. I can’t recommend the last.

She laughed. What is New Orleans like?

Mysterious and magical and full of danger.

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened. Stead watched her as if trying to read the meaning behind her reactions.

Would you like to see it? he asked.

Lucy’s mouth went dry and she couldn’t find her voice. She nodded, her gaze fixed on his. He leaned closer once more as her heart pounded.

I think I’d like to see you in it, he said in a breathy voice.

And then his arm wrapped around her and his mouth pressed against hers. His kiss was long and lingering. She melted into it, held up by his embrace. When he pulled away, emptiness consumed her. She stared up at him, desire pulsing through her.

You are so lovely. His voice was as breathless as she felt. He brushed back her hair, letting tendrils of it fall between his fingers. I could stare into those gray eyes for days. You’re like a storm cloud, Lucy, wild and dangerous.

Lucy’s cheeks flushed. She wanted to tell him how handsome he was, how captivated she was by him, how much she wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, with a daring she’d never felt before, she reached up to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. It only took the tiniest amount of pressure to draw him down into another kiss. The feel of his lips on hers sent shivers through her body, driven by her boldness in stealing the kiss. And the look on Stead’s face as he drew back, a mixture of pleasure and surprise, made her smile with mischief.

She spent the rest of their walk together asking about New Orleans and New York and any other city he mentioned. Every so often, Stead would pull her close to steal yet another kiss. Each one left her body throbbing. In moments of boldness, she reached for him and found him eager and unresisting. It was a power she’d never felt before, demanding attention and receiving it without question. She thrilled each time and grew bolder, pausing to stroke his face or press a hand to his broad chest.

Lucy finally turned them back towards town. She stopped where a road ran alongside the towpath.

I should get back home, she said reluctantly.

He raised her hand, and the play of his lips over her knuckles was as exhilarating as his kisses. His gaze caught and held hers, growing more intense.

Come with me.

Startled, she was afraid she hadn’t heard him rightly. He seemed to realize it and wrapped his long arms around her to draw her close.

Come with me, he repeated, whispering in her ear. I’ll take you to each and every one of those cities. A week’s time and we could be in Louisville. Another week and I can show you St. Louis. We can follow the Mississippi all the way to New Orleans.

A moment of sense caught up with her. Her words were tight. Why me?

He drew back to hold her gaze once more. You are the freshest, most exciting woman I’ve met in a long, long while, Lucy Donaghue. And I’d consider myself the biggest fool in the Midwest if I didn’t take you with me.

She didn’t resist as he pulled her closer, pressing his body against her as his mouth found hers. His kiss was deep and filled with desire, and she answered it in kind, never wanting it to end. She could barely draw breath when he released her.

His question was etched on his face. There was only one answer she could give.

Yes.

LUCY HAD NEVER SEEN her dad as disappointed as he was when she’d returned home. She ached at how he turned away from her when she came into the house late in the afternoon. He left the room without a word, and his silent rebuke cut deeper than any shouted word could have.

Her mom watched her with an unreadable expression. Lucy’s three siblings must have sensed the tension in the farmhouse for they left off bickering and went about their chores without argument.

Dad didn’t come in for supper. Lucy picked at her food, guilt gnawing at her. She was sure her mom could read her intentions written plainly on her face. The only way she survived it was to remember Stead’s plans.

We’ll go to Laurel, he’d told her. I’ll hire a coach and we’ll head south. Avoid the canals and the pilots. They all seem to know you, he added with a slight smile.

Dad works with them from time to time, she admitted, hoping he didn’t think that she ran off with every stranger who came to town. His smile broadened as he ran his hand through her hair, sending tingles down her spine, and she knew he believed her.

We’ll go to the Ohio, he said.

The Ohio River?

He nodded, and she drew in a breath, shaky with excitement. I’ve never seen it.

You’ll marvel at it. But it’s nothing compared to the Mississippi. First, we’ll take a ferry to Louisville, then we’ll take to the rivers. He stole another kiss. And from there, we can go anywhere.

She had to keep the smile from her face as she sat at supper.

Come to Laurel, Stead had told her. Can you make the trip alone?

Of course, she answered, though she’d never taken the road alone before. But her answer pleased him.

Come tomorrow. He pressed her against him. I’ll wait for you.

Wordlessly, she’d agreed.

Lucy helped wash and put away the dishes without a word from Mom. Finally, the silence was too much.

I’m sorry, Lucy pleaded. She said it as much for what was to come as for what had passed.

Her mom’s look was long and withdrawn.

We’ll talk about this in the morning, she told Lucy quietly before leaving the kitchen.

Lucy swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears.

There’ll be no talking about it in the morning. I can’t explain why I have to go. They’d only talk me out of it. And this is my best and maybe only chance to escape Metamora.

With a man such as Stead, it couldn’t be more perfect. 

In the early morning hours, Lucy packed all the clothing she could—her best dress and skirts, her cleanest blouses and finest stockings. They would look ragged and plain next to Stead, but it was the best she could do. She packed all the money she’d squirreled away over the years working at the Dry Goods Store and the mill and the hotel. At the last minute, she added the shawl she had finished for this year’s Shearing Fair, crocheted in lacy stitches with the finely spun yarn she’d dyed a pale blue with indigo. She eyed her workbasket and with pursed lips added it as well with what yarn it held. She couldn’t quite bring herself to leave everything about her old life behind.

Before her family woke, Lucy ran the bag to the broken-down cabin. Everyone was awake when she returned, but she’d had the foresight to gather a basket of eggs before coming into the house. Her mom eyed her and her dad said nothing as they sat down to breakfast.

Lucy could hardly sit still.

It’s time. I’m leaving this tiny town.

She’d been yearning for the chance to escape for longer than she could say. She was tired of small-town life. She was tired of awkward farm boys trying to steal unpracticed kisses from her, or widowers coming up to her during the fairs with expectant smiles. Tired of sitting each Sunday on the porch after church, crocheting with the same women week after week, talking about the same people and the same happenings. She wanted a bigger life than Metamora could offer. She wanted city streets. She wanted the hustle and bustle of strangers around her. She wanted to move.

And I want Stead Sanders.

The thought was dangerous and seductive, and she couldn’t let it go.

Lucy