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By Julia A. Clayton

Her family didnt understand why after appearing to be so happy about their move to
Wyoming Joylee was so insistent on her return to Philadelphia to sew with her Aunt.
She would tell them that ranch life was just too hard on a woman, but there was an
underlying reason. Would the visions she continued to have open her eyes to what
was truly important to her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 20, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462826575

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Copyright © 2009 by Julia A. Clayton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

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This book is for Julia, whose love of life and her family has given us a goal to reach for, and in being such a role model of how to live life to obtain the kind of HOME we all endeavor to have.

Chapter 1

Joylee, Nancy and George are coming, Mrs. Anthony called. Joylee looked up from the dress she was sewing. All right, Mom. I’ll be right there. Carefully she pulled the thread through the soft blue cotton and tucked the needle in the seam allowance. Without any wasted movement she folded the dress and placed it in her sewing box. She pushed her chair away from the table and stretched, easing the stiffness from her cramped muscles.

Her tired eyes burned from the close work and she blinked several times then rubbed them before getting up and running to the open front door.

George Fairchild and his sister, Nancy, came up the lane, their black mare pulling the long bedded buggy. She waved as she stepped out to the porch and they waved in response. George reined the horse in under a tree and stepped down. He unhooked the single tree then tied the horse securely to the hitching post.

Nancy jumped down and ran to the house and up the steps.

Hi, Nancy, Joylee said.

Hi, yourself, Nancy said, running her fingers through her wind whipped blonde hair. Are you ready for the big shindig?

Joylee smiled at Nancy’s exuberance. Well, Nancy, I don’t know if I should go. You know how the cowpokes throw you around—like a sack of potatoes or something. You stay sore for a week. Her smile faded. And anyway, if I stay home I could finish Mom’s dress and wrap Val’s layette. Next week is going to be so busy with the roundup and I still have all my packing to do.

That’s just one more reason why you should go, Nancy said firmly. You’ll be able to tell everyone goodbye. This will probably be your last chance to see most of the people around here.

Don’t tell me you still plan to leave beautiful Wyoming? George asked, bounding up the steps.

Beautiful Wyoming! Joylee exclaimed, looking over the wind swept prairie and weather beaten ranch buildings. How can you even say that?

She stretched her arms to include the entire area. Just look at this place. It’s still practically uncivilized after three hard years. And if I have to spend another year with that never ending wind howling all the time, I’ll go out of my mind.

You’ve got to admit, it is a lot better than it was when you moved in. Your Dad and Rod Lewis made lots of improvements. And your Mom, she really seems to be at home here. She is no city slicker. George gestured at the yard and garden. Her flowers put a mark of civilization even out here.

Joylee shrugged ruefully, then said, But even you have to admit it is a struggle. Nothing ever is finished. At least when you sew something, when it’s done, it’s done.

You seemed to enjoy the garden you had the first two summers you were here, Nancy put in. And we had such fun riding together. Then all of a sudden you changed. You never really did explain why, or even why you are leaving. I can’t believe you just hate it here. She looked at Joylee, her eyes glistening with sudden tears. I don’t want you to leave. I’m going to miss you so much. Can’t you change your mind?

Joylee took Nancy’s hand and pressed it gently. I can’t. I’ve been working and waiting for a year and a half now. I’m sixteen, Nancy. You can’t want me to wait any longer. It’s been my one dream, to sew with Aunt Stella in Philadelphia. Soon it will be real. I’ll miss you and my family too, but I’m going.

Nancy sighed, blinking her tears away. I knew you’d say that. It’s just that I can’t understand why you can’t sew here.

George straightened abruptly and turned to the girls. I don’t see any point in talking anymore. Are you going to the dance or not?

At the tone of his voice, Joylee stiffened, then she relaxed and smiled at him. I’m sure this is a bore to you. Yes, I guess I’ll go.

Great! he said, taking a quick step to imaginary music.

What are you going to wear? Nancy said, brightening up.

Why don’t you come and help me decide? Joylee said. And George, if you want to talk to Pete, he’s out chopping wood.

George sighed slightly then nodded. But you won’t be too long will you?

Shouldn’t be, Joylee replied, going into the house with Nancy. Mom, I’m going to the dance. I’ll take my clothes and get dressed at their house.

Mrs. Anthony came to the kitchen door, carefully holding her floury hands away from her clothes. I’m glad you decided to do that. It should be fun. Her brown eyes sparkled with the thought. Dad and I will be seeing all of you there. It’s too bad Pete won’t come but he’ll enjoy spending the evening with Valerie and Myron here.

Isn’t it hard for Val to be traveling now? Joylee asked.

Mrs. Anthony nodded. Yes, but she insisted that she wanted to get out for the evening. I’m baking apple pie for them. And you three might as well eat before you leave. There’s plenty.

All right, Mom, Joylee replied, smiling at her mother.

Thanks, Mrs. Anthony, Nancy said.

The girls turned and went up the narrow steps and off to the left into Joylee’s room.

My Gosh, Nancy said, looking around. Don’t you ever have a mess up here? My room is always torn up.

Joylee looked around her room as if seeing it for the first time. It was neat. The bed was white and sterile looking, everything was put away, almost as if no one lived there. The only color in the room was the flowers in the curtains and the cloth she had draped over her clothes to protect them from dust. The wash basin was so clean it sparkled and the pitcher gleamed.

Well, I really don’t do much up here. Just sleep and wash up, she admitted thoughtfully. I do my sewing downstairs. Anyway, I don’t belong here.

Joylee! Nancy exclaimed.

It’s true. I don’t belong in this room, in this house, on this land. She changed the subject by going to the wall where her clothes hung. Pulling the cloth aside, she said, What should I wear?

Well, I don’t really know what you have. You’ve made so many nice things to take East. Let me see.

Without words, Joylee took the dresses down, one at a time and laid them on the bed. At sight of the third one, Nancy gasped.

That one! The green. I haven’t seen it since you finished it. She took it from Joylee and looked at it, holding it up to her. That really is beautiful. You have so much talent for sewing. I wish I did.

Joylee looked at the dress with its dark green skirt and lacy, white bodice. She frowned slightly, saying, I was sort of planning to save it for Philadelphia—but since it’s my last dance here, I guess I will wear it. Let me get my satchel and I’ll pack.

She reached under her bed and brought out a small satchel folded into a tight package. She opened it and quickly packed her underclothing. I’ll carry the dress. Don’t want to rumple it, putting it in there. She busied herself, gently folding the dress. What does George think of me, Nancy?

Nancy hesitated, then said softly, I don’t really know. Why?

Joylee faced her, holding the dress. I just don’t want him to get hurt, that’s all. I like him.

I think he knows that. He’d like it if you stayed, but if you don’t, he’ll get over it. Nancy’s voice was flat and calm.

Joylee nodded. I thought so, hoped so anyway. You’re going to the dance with Burt?

Nancy said with a grin, Of course.

Joylee smiled back and glanced around. Well, I guess I’ve got everything. Let’s go.

They left the room, Nancy first, carrying the satchel, and Joylee following with the dress. Halfway down the steps, Nancy heard Joylee gasp and the dress fall to the floor.

For an instant after she saw the dress tumble past her, Nancy stood rooted to the spot. Then, frightened, she twisted around to see what happened.

Above her on the stairs, swaying, with her hands pressed over her eyes, Joylee stood. Nancy dropped the satchel and rushed up the stairs to her.

Joylee! she cried, grabbing her arms and bracing both of them. Joylee! What is it? Are you in pain?

Joylee did not respond. It was as if she could not hear. Nancy pulled her hands down from her white, stricken face and staring, terrified eyes.

Joylee! Nancy cried urgently. When this brought no response, she cried out in panic. Mrs. Anthony!

Nancy, what is it? Mrs. Anthony asked, hurrying to the stairway. Her glance took in the crumpled dress and fallen satchel and the frozen tableau on the steps. Quickly she started up toward the girls.

Nancy held Joylee tightly as she turned to Mrs. Anthony. I don’t know what’s wrong. Something happened to her. I heard her gasp and this is how she was.

We’ve got to get her downstairs and on the sofa. We can’t let her fall. Mrs. Anthony said, her voice tight with control.

They each took one arm and carefully guided Joylee down the steps. When she was lying down, Mrs. Anthony said, Please, go to the kitchen and get a wet cloth for her head.

Nancy rushed out and in a moment returned with one.

The feel of it on her forehead made Joylee gasp and she began to come back to reality.

Joylee, what’s wrong? Mrs. Anthony asked. Are you in pain?

Joylee opened her mouth and tried to speak, then tried again. Yes—pain—here. She touched her head and then her chest. Then with a frown of fear, she added, No—not me. Somebody else. Daddy. Daddy’s hurt! She cried out in terror, Something bad has happened to him.

Mrs. Anthony started, then stared at the floor, the knuckles on her knotted fists white.

Nancy gasped, Whatever can she mean?

Mrs. Anthony looked at Nancy, her face colorless and twisted with fear. I think she’s had a vision, she whispered. She had one when Valerie fell out of a tree and broke her leg. She somehow knew what happened before anyone else did.

But how? Nancy gasped. How could she know?

Mrs. Anthony turned to Joylee and said in a forced, gentle voice, Honey, what happened?

Joylee put her hands over her face and tears ran through her fingers. I don’t know. I just feel—that Daddy is hurt. It just came to me. Oh, Mom, what are we going to do?

Mrs. Anthony got up and walked to the window, then back to the sofa. She twisted her hands together, saying, I don’t know what we can do. Except for the general direction, we don’t even know where they are working today. She passed her hands over her distressed face. Joylee, I’m not doubting you. I know you wouldn’t make anything like this up, but tell me, is this like what happened before?

With Val? Joylee asked in surprise, shaken by a tremor that passed through her. Yes, yes it is. I felt pain, like a blow, like I did with Val on my leg. On my head and my chest and somewhere else. She frowned, frightened, trying to remember. Oh, yes, my arm. It was like I was flying, then falling and landing. Only it wasn’t me, it was Daddy. I’m sure something bad has happened to him.

Then, seeing the pain on her mother’s face, she tried to smile. Maybe it’s not so bad, Mom. Turning away, she added, I have to rest now. She lay back and drew her arm over her face.

Mrs. Anthony and Nancy avoided looking at each other as they sat, shocked and silent. Soon Mrs. Anthony asked, Nancy, do you want to help with the apples and supper?

Nancy jumped up. Sure, she said, starting for the kitchen. Then she stopped and said slowly, I’d better tell George something. He’ll be waiting to go back to town.

All right, dear, Mrs. Anthony said. But don’t worry Pete if you can help it. He is out with Pete, isn’t he?

Yes, I think so. Don’t worry.

Joylee lay on the sofa, listening to the soft sounds of conversation, her mind in a turmoil of thoughts and vivid impressions. Her fear was real, like a tangible thing in the room, taunting her. She lay still as long as she could stand it, then she got up and began pacing back and forth, back and forth.

Finally she went to the kitchen. Mom, she said softly.

Joylee, I thought you were asleep, Mrs. Anthony said, continuing to pare the apples, concentrating on the simple task with all the strength of her will.

"I just couldn’t, Mom. We’ve got to do something. We can’t just wait. What if he isn’t with Rod? What if he’s alone and no one knows where he is? It will