Winter Crossing

By James E Ferrell

Tiller Bonner, a petite lovely young woman, had two loves in her life. A son, Danny, who was a kindhearted boy any mother would love. Then there was Mary, headstrong with a free spirit at the age of six. Caught between two forces that targeted the impressionable children, Tillie knew her influence had to be a constant in both of her children's lives. Her plans for them would all go up in smoke if the wealthy and powerful grandmother, Mira Bonner, could get charge of them. The impact of two rough mountain men suddenly interjected in Tillie's life changed everything.
Elam Franklin lost his mother when he was just a young boy and everything he knew was self-taught. He could live off the land, but he had no formal education about books or social proprieties.
Nolan Tolivar rode the mountain trails carrying a heart full of grief. His lonely existence was void of purpose until faced with someone else's burden laid at this feet. He had no other option but to deal with these burdens. Considering the circumstances, Nolan knew this was his cross to bear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James E Ferrell
• Release date: Sep 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781950763146

James E Ferrell

Kathryn Hall Clair is a mature woman (reaching her 72nd birthday in 2023). She is a retired Registered Nurse from the Baton Rouge General Medical Center in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. In 2018, she and James E. Ferrell partnered to self-publish his books. Over the years, editing James E. Ferrell's books took on more writing and editing. Kathryn combines her time with editing, writing, and caring for her grandchildren. Singing, and caring for her grandchildren, husband, and two dogs make her life full and meaningful. She counts her blessings and thanks God for His goodness and watchful care over this venture and her family.

Book preview

Tillie Bonner, a petite lovely young woman, had two loves in her life. A son, Danny, who was a kind-hearted boy any mother would love. Then there was Mary, headstrong with a free spirit at the age of six. Caught between two forces that targeted the impressionable children, Tillie knew her influence had to be a constant in both of her children’s lives. Her plans for them would all go up in smoke if the wealthy and powerful grandmother, Mira Bonner, could get charge of them. The impact of two rough mountain men suddenly interjected in Tillie’s life changed everything.

Elam Franklin lost his mother when he was just a young boy and everything he knew was self-taught. He could live off the land, but he had no formal education about books or social proprieties.

Nolan Tolivar rode the mountain trails carrying a heart full of grief. His lonely existence was void of purpose until faced with someone else’s burden laid at his feet. He had no other option but to deal with these burdens. Considering the circumstances, Nolan knew this was his cross to bear.

C1 Against the Wall

Abrisk wind rattled windowpanes sending a warning of a cold winter approaching the Colorado mountain range. Along the mountain passes, snow would soon dampen wandering spirits until early spring. Sheriff Pete Bailey eased his heavy frame down on the cell bed, making sure he didn’t spill the hot coffee he held in his hand. Through the cell window above Pete’s head, the morning sun outlined the man lying on the opposite bunk. Pete blew the hot steam from his coffee and studied the man across from him.

Elam Franklin lay with his forearm over his eyes, blocking the intense sunshine that made his head swim. Raising his head from the jailhouse pillow, Elam slowly lay it back down again. Here he was once again in the Buckley jail. Of all places, this was the worst possible. Changing positions, he knew without opening his eyes, Sheriff Bailey was sitting there waiting for him to get his wits about himself.

Sheriff Bailey, I did it again. I really didn’t tend to stay in your town any longer than it would take me to git supplies up. In and out wuz my plan, but I decided while the store keep wuz a-fillin’ my pack, I would jest step in the saloon next door for a small one--mind you, jest a small one. Warn’t plannin’ on a-gittin’ drunk and startin’ a ruckus. I knowed them fellers in the saloon and they knowed me from my last trip through. It seems them boys hold a grudge. I guess there ain’t nothin’ I can be a-sayin', Elam said.

Pete sighed and sat quietly, watching the oversized kid lying on the bunk, shading his eyes. He looked down into his coffee cup as if he was observing something in the black coffee through the vapor. You know, boy, when I left Tennessee, I figured I was leaving the last of the foolish acting men and women behind me. I was looking for a better place to live among men and women that went about their daily lives trying to do the right thing. Back in Tennessee, I watched you grow up and knew your mother and brothers well. They were mighty fine, hardworking people. I know all about the trouble your daddy caused the family. You now have turned out even worse than your daddy ever was. He was a bad father, but Elam, you are a sorry lot! You have no education. You can’t even read and write! Your family could have helped you learn if you wanted to, but you just didn’t. You always preferred to take to the woods instead of the schoolhouse. You are all grown up and should have put away that foolishness by now. You are going back into the wilderness, so you will be right at home with the savages that have no learning. I guess that makes you feel all right about yourself. Your family was dear to me, but you are on your way to becoming a sot drunk. Given a few more years, that will come to fruition and you’re doing nothing to stop it, the sheriff said.

Elam lay still with his eyes covered, not wanting to see the face of the man scolding him so harshly. ‘Sheriff, I kinda do believe thar war more than me in here last time. Warn’t all my fault! I’m shore ‘nough sorry I came back through your town. It’s just that it be the shortest way to git back in the wilderness," Elam said.

The sheriff responded, I never thought I would see you again, but here you are a year later. You’re an even bigger bully that always seems to find trouble. I walked in the saloon and there you were fighting with the same bunch of drunks you lit into the last time you came through here. I didn’t see no sense in locking up that bunch because they haven’t given me trouble for a long time. I don’t know why I care, but I do. So, I’m going to try and give you some encouragement. It didn’t work last time, but maybe being a year older, you will decide to grow up all at once.

Elam sat up on the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes. Sheriff, what thar be on your mind? he asked.

Do you remember the big fellow that was my deputy last time you were through here? asked the sheriff.

I reckon I do! Your deputy Morgan sat thar in front of my cell and read me from the Good Book. He said I wuz his divine appointment and gave me a-talkin' like I wuz his little brother. He rooted himself down in my conscience what he said shore did nag at me for a long time after I left, Elam said.

John Morgan is one of the finest men I ever had dealings with. While he was here, he got me to looking at my own self and I made a lot of changes because of him. John left not long before you headed up the trail over the mountain. Said he had himself a homestead up that way and was a-hankering to get back there, Pete said.

Pardon myself, Sheriff, but what does this John Morgan feller have to do with me? Elam asked.

John Morgan left me with something I was supposed to give you before you left last year, but I couldn’t bring myself to doing what he asked. It was to me like casting pearls to swine if you know what I mean. I just hung on to it, the sheriff said.

"Well, sheriff, I don’t know what you mean, ‘castin’ pearls to swine.’ Iffin’ you don’t mind how about you a-figurin’ what I owe you and I will be on my way. I promise I am a-goin’ to make my momma proud and learn to read and write. I won’t be a-comin’ back through here less I know how!" Elam exclaimed.

Elam, there is more to it than just learning. With learning comes a big responsibility to reach out and do something with yourself, the sheriff said.

Okay, Pete! Just what is it I’m supposed to git from Morgan? Elam asked.

Pete Bailey frowned and walked into his office. In a few minutes, he reappeared, holding a black package. Mumbling to himself, he said under his breath, ‘I still say this is a waste of a precious jewel putting this in Elam Franklin’s hands.’ Clearing his throat, Pete looked at the man sitting in the cell and said, Elam, against my better judgment, I’m going to give this to you. It should be in a fine palace under a glass cover so all that know its true worth could come and see it and people like you couldn’t touch it.

Elam looked at the fine leather-bound book that Pete had unwrapped and lay before him. Pete--it’s a book. Mighty fancy lookin’ with all them gold letters on the front, but it’s a book like Momma had a-sittin’ on her table back home, Elam said.

No, boy! This book has in it the same words as that old Bible laying on your momma’s table, but it’s not the same, Pete said.

Iffin them both has the same words what reason you say thissin’ is different? Elam asked.

This, boy, is the reason that the lower class of England who lived two hundred years ago, learned to speak the English language. They could communicate at your level like most of the people around here, but with this Holy Book, they learned to speak proper English. Some learned to speak it just as eloquently as the most learned English-speaking men throughout the world. This, Elam, is a 1611 King James Bible original. I don’t know how John got ahold of this treasure or why he would consider putting it in your hands, but he did. His old family Bible he took with him would have been good enough for the likes of you.

Well, it's prettier, but I don’t see no difference--, Elam started to say.

Pete interjected, "No, you wouldn’t! Let me tell you. You plan on learning to read and write to make your momma proud. God rest her soul! If you learn to read by reading this book, you will be respected and honored as a wise and learned man by all who hear you speak. It will enhance your vocabulary and open up your mind to the wisdom of our Creator. It will expand your intellectual relationship that will guide you into life hereafter.

C2 Cutthroat Creek

The dusk of evening fell across the mountain range leaving those along the streets scurrying to their homes among the small town. Along the boardwalk, lights cast shadows of those passing. Pulling her shawl up around her chin Hannah Wilson stepped up on the porch of a small framed house. Sighing deeply, she knocked on the door and looked around suspiciously.

Tillie, we need to talk, was all Hannah could say as a pretty young woman opened the door. Maybe I should not have come, but things have been said that you need to know, she said.

Alright, come in. Tell me everything that you have heard, Tillie said.

Maybe, I should not have come, Hannah Wilson said again.

Hannah, I know it took courage coming here. Now you have to let me know what I’m facing, Tillie Bonner said.

Hannah continued, Tillie, I am sorry to bother you at a time like this, but I just couldn’t stand by while they did this to you.

Go on, Tillie said.

I went to work early this morning before Judge Hayes came in. I’m not usually that early, but today I was. The judge’s chamber was empty, so I decided to dust. The old judge sneezes up a storm if I dust while he’s there. I had gone into the back room to get my duster when the three of them came in. I heard the door to the judge’s chambers open. Then I heard Mira Bonner begin speaking rather loudly. Her voice is so piercing! I decided I’d better be quiet and stay put. The three moved into the room and I eased back in the linen closet. Through a crack in the door, I saw Mira’s face. It was hard and twisted, as usual, Hannah said.

Hannah relayed what she had heard. ‘Judge Hayes, I expect you to follow my instructions to the letter. Hear me good; if you don’t, I will get myself another judge and don’t think I won’t!’ Mira said.

‘Mira, you can’t just slander someone like Tillie! Every decent person in this town will be up in arms,’ the sheriff said.

‘RD, I can do as I please. The two of you will do well to remember where your high living is coming from!’ Mira hissed.

Mira leveled a gaze at the small sheriff, and he began to squirm. ‘Sheriff, get hold of Dean French and tell him just what I told you to say and remind him nothing else will be necessarily said. That low life will screw it up if he is left to his own imagination!" she said with a huff.’

Hannah shifted nervously from foot to foot before she started again. Mira told the judge what she expected of him, and if he didn’t deliver, she would get rid of him. Mira told that weasel of a sheriff the same thing. She told him to get that no count womanizer Dean French to do the dirty work and pay him for his trouble. Once it was over, the sheriff was to advise French to leave town and never come back if he knew what was good for him, she said.

No one would believe that I would have anything to do with the likes of French, Tillie said.

Miss Tillie, the women in this town envy your beauty and don’t think they wouldn’t wag their tongues! Hannah stated firmly.

What else did Mira say? Tillie asked.

She told them that she would wait a decent time after the funeral to mourn her loss, but not too long, so folks would still be shocked over the reason for Phil’s death, Hannah stated.

Why would anyone believe anything Mira says? Everyone knows the judge and her lawyer was behind the way she treated Uncle Buck, Tillie said as she paced the room, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Tillie quietly looked into the bedroom where her children slept as she thought over what she had heard. Hannah, on your way home, I want you to find Uncle Buck.

Ma’am, it’s awfully late, Hannah said pitifully.

Hannah, this can’t wait until tomorrow. You should find Buck in his room behind the school. Go to him tonight and tell him what you have just told me. Tell him I said it is worse than we ever dreamed and we must hurry. Can you do that for me? Tillie asked.

Alright, Tillie, I guess I don’t mind. You are a fine lady, and I count you as my closest friend, Hannah said.

Hannah, you must not talk of this to anyone, ever! If you do, that vengeful woman will make your life miserable. If Mira finds out you were in the judge’s chamber, neither you nor your husband will be able to find work here in Hunter. I need time to think this out. Keep quiet about this! Now hurry along and find Buck Bonner, Tillie said.

Leaving the small house, Hannah Wilson hurried down the back streets of Hunter, Colorado. It was shift-change at the mill. Workers from the mill made their way to their homes. Hunter sat on the east side of Colorado, surrounded by a mountain range whose peaks disappeared through the clouds. Summer was almost gone, and the community was preparing for a long and cold winter. Stacks of firewood covered the sides of houses, as well as every available barn. It was a scenic town from any direction you looked.

The following morning, while a chill was still in the air, Tillie Bonner stood in the center of Hunter Graveyard. Her children, Mary and Danny, formed a close little band around their mother. Her late husband, Phil Bonner, lay in the freshly dug grave at her feet. A host of friends and neighbors stood about the graveyard. Emotionally numb, Tillie heard little of what was said by the lanky preacher in the long black coat.

Grandmother Bonner dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. She had a stern, cross look on her face when she said, Tillie, I think you should consider what I asked you earlier.

Grandmother, I will tell you for the last time my children will be living with me. You will not mention it again, Tillie stated emphatically.

Tillie, you can’t take care of these children, and I can make sure they never need anything. Why the whole bunch of you might just starve to death! What will you do for money? Mira asked.

Tillie stated with finality, We will get along, so quit your worrying! She quickly turned from the scene and moved out of the cemetery holding tightly to the hands of her children.

Wait up a moment, Tillie, a woman said as she hurried from a group of women as Tillie walked through the cemetery gate. Tillie dear, we women of Hunter would like to assure you of our support during these trying times. Why don’t you let Mary come home with me? She is always welcome to stay with my Susan anytime you need a little break.

Thanks, Ethyl, but not tonight. We need some time alone, Tillie said.

Ethyl Groggins quickly replied, I know you do, dear. Just remember you can count on the ladies here in Hunter. Don’t pay no mind to Mira. She is just hurt and don’t know what she is saying.

Tillie knew that Mira had wasted no time in spreading the hurtful gossip around town, and the women were quickly embellishing what they had heard.

What is Mira saying? Tillie asked with a questioning look.

A quick look of denial came over Ethyl’s face as she stammered for words. We know you did your best by Phil. Why there isn’t a bad thing ever been said about you, honey. Well, you know what I mean. There was just no cause for Phil going and doing what he did. Poor Phil was a good man. Why he always had a kind word to say to anyone he passed on the street. The poor man must have been out of his mind, she said.

Tillie considered the women standing in a tight bundle in the cemetery. They were always quick to tell her what woman her husband was with and just as ready to spread gossip around town. How quickly they had decided her poor husband was a man of integrity, and now she was the cause of his death.

Looking back at the woman in the cemetery, Tillie said, Thank the ladies for me, Ethyl. You will excuse me. I need to get my children settled down. This day has been a trying one for us.

Walking along the busy street, Tillie held tightly to a complaining Mary’s hand until a well-dressed elderly man stepped up on the boardwalk and scooped Mary up in his arms. He said, Tillie, I want to extend my condolences to you and the children. His bright blue eyes twinkled as he said quietly under his breath, Everything is ready. You have the best outfit this side of the Rockies. Everything you need to travel by wagon is packed in a new Conestoga and waiting for you over in Harrison. I will pick you up in my buggy tonight after dark. You are wise to leave tonight before the wicked witch gets hold of the children here.

Putting Mary down, he whispered, Just like Mrs. Wilson said, the rumor is circulating that Phil killed himself because he caught you having an affair. It is the first step of trying to discredit you. You must not be here tomorrow, Buck said.

We will be ready to leave tonight. How can I ever thank you, Uncle Buck? I sure wish you would reconsider and come with us. Won’t you change your mind and come along? Tillie begged.

Buck Bonner was the brother of the children’s grandfather, Jack Bonner, who had died years before and left his wife Mira his half of the family business. Jack Bonner and Buck had never needed a legal paper between them, and when Jack had died, Mira had suddenly provided a signed copy of the documents stating that Jack had been the sole owner of the mill and all that went with it. Mira had run the mill’s business affairs, and Buck had signed many a document Mira had held before him never bothering to look at its content.

The lust for money and control had corrupted Mira. Everything had been filed at the courthouse over the previous years without him even knowing what was happening. Suddenly everything he had was gone, including his own home.

Tillie, are you sure about traveling by wagon? You know it is not wise this time of year, Buck stated.

Uncle Buck, it’s the only way we can leave here and have a prayer of getting away, Tillie said.

I will take you to Harrison to your wagon, but that is far as I dare go. I have a friend in Harrison who will help you with the team to Buckley. Sandy Crow will teach you how to drive the team, and by the time you get to Buckley, you will be able to handle those mules like a true mule skinner. I wish I could go! I wouldn’t last long, and you would be burying me somewhere down the trail. This medicine I put under my tongue is the only thing keeping me alive now, Buck said.

Buck, I wish--you would come with us, Tillie stated.

I wish I could, but that’s impossible. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me! You need to get as far as you can away from here. If you stay around here, Mira will win and get the children. What she wants--she gets, Buck said.

Where are we going, Mother? Danny asked.

We will discuss this later, Danny. I will explain it all to you, but for now, we need to get home. There are a lot of preparations to be made. Buck, I will be expecting to see you tonight, Tillie said.

Tipping his hat, he walked down the boardwalk. Buck Bonner had a new spring in his step that had not been there for a long time.

A few days later, Tillie stood before the small campfire braiding her long blond hair and securing the end with a pink ribbon. Tired and worried, she stood watching the rain course down the muddy street. It had rained for two days steady, without letup, and she saw no end in sight. If winter hit, there would be no way to get out of this country until spring.

Sandy Crow had ridden the fifty miles from Harrison beside her, coaching her as she managed the team and encouraging her as they went along. Danny also drove the team, and at the end of the fifty-mile trip, they were both physically worn out from working the heavy leather reins guiding the six-mule team.

Before he left, Sandy stood by the big mules and looked at Tillie and Danny. He said, Miss Tillie, you just aren’t big enough to handle a team like this, and Danny is still too young, but your heart is willing, and I suppose you will do alright. I’ll remind you one more time, there is a whip under the seat, and if you want them mules to mind, you better learn to use it. He left that next morning headed back home on the stage with the instructions not to divulge what he had been doing in the past few days.

ααααααα

The uncertainty of what could be behind them kept Tillie continually looking over her shoulder. ‘I’ll remind you one more time, there is a whip under the seat, and if you want them mules to mind, you better learn to use it.’ Sandy had said. Now she would take his advice. Occasionally the team would balk and that is when Tillie learned to use the whip. Walking alongside the team while Danny was driving the mules, Tillie became proficient with the whip. Before long, she could cut the top out of a thistle or a leaf out of a tree. The team realized she meant business and became easier to handle as her skills improved.

A rainy week had come and gone making forward progress slow. The mules were pulling good, but the sky had her worried. A well-worn wagon trail ventured off to their right and on impulse, Tillie reined the team off of their