Independence

By Teresa Barker

Independence follows the journey of a young woman named Sonora Parish in the late 1800s, as she struggles to find a new life for herself after being disgraced by her fathers criminal activity. When her fathers sins find her, she disappears to Wyoming, finding a job as a housekeeper on a ranch named Independence.

Her journey takes her through love and enduring friendship, heartache and betrayal, and a fight for survival. Throughout, Sonora must decide if her past will define her, or if she will fight to keep the life she has built for herself at Independence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493144990

Teresa Barker

Co-writer of the New York Times bestseller Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys and other Wall Street Journal, amazon.com and Goodreads top picks, Teresa H. Barker writes about health and child development, parenting, creative aging, and life passages. Formerly of Oregon, she now lives in Chicago.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Teresa Barker.

Cover art and author photo by Danny Dorsey Photography Bristol, TN.

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.

Rev. date: 11/25/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

In loving memory of my Granddaddy,

who always loved a good western.

Prologue

St. Louis 1888

We need to talk, the man behind her whispered, viciously grabbing her arm. Don’t make a scene.

What do you want? Sonora pleaded, trying hard not to show the fear that was threatening to overwhelm her. She winced in pain as the man dug his fingers deeper into her arm. He jerked her around so that they were standing face to face. Sonora paled, slowly realizing her assailant’s identity. He had shaved off his full beard revealing a nasty looking scar and had acquired a very expensive looking suit, but she recognized his eyes, heartless and cruel.

Where is he? the man asked angrily.

I don’t know, Sonora lied, panic welling up in her throat weakening her voice. Let me go!

You’re lying, he scoffed coldly. Tell me where he is, and I will let you live. He shook her harder, his cold sneer revealing he had no true intention of letting her come through his interrogation alive.

Her mind raced. This was a big town. There were always people around somewhere, even at twilight. She needed to draw attention; needed to get him to let go of her. Impulsively, she raked the heel of her boot down his shin as hard as she could. He yowled in pain, but didn’t release his iron grip. She screamed, jerking violently against him. She continued screaming, scratching at his face with her other hand.

Be quiet! he growled, raising his arm to hit her across the face.

Two men began crossing the street toward them. We’ll continue this another time, her attacker promised savagely as he spied the would-be heroes running toward them. He released her arm and darted into a darkened alley.

You okay, Miss? one of her rescuers asked. Sonora was shaking. She muttered her thanks to her rescuers, and headed toward the hotel, praying her attacker wouldn’t go there. She couldn’t understand how he’d gotten free, how he’d found her a thousand miles away from home.

With her attacker nowhere in sight, Sonora raced to her room and shoved a few of her belongings into a bag. She didn’t take the time to get it all; the bare essentials would have to do. She left just a few minutes later knowing that, whenever her fear subsided, she would really miss her clothes and the other niceties she didn’t take the time to pack.

Trying desperately to come up with a plan, she darted through the now dark streets, checking over her shoulder every few steps. She headed toward the railway station. A few men stood near the station as a freight train took on water. That was just what she needed. She walked quickly toward a clothing store making sure there were always several people close by. Once safely inside, Sonora picked up a pair of boys trousers, shirt and hat. I hope this works, she thought, as she used most of what little money she had left to purchase her new disguise.

Several minutes later the train whistle blew signaling its departure from St. Louis. Sonora buried deeper into the straw as the brakeman closed the doors to her stolen, moving hotel. She wasn’t sure where she was headed exactly; all she knew was west.

Chapter 1

Sonora jerked upright at the sound of the train whistle. She was stiff and cold and more than a little hungry. She adjusted her now dirty clothing as best she could, pulled the straw out of her light brown hair and re-tucked it into her oversized hat. The late autumn nights were getting too cold in the smelly old cattle car; she knew this would have to be her last stop. The train slowed and came to a stop. She was hoping she was far enough toward the back to avoid being noticed by anyone. Stowaways were never looked on too kindly, and while disguising herself as a boy had helped keep her out of trouble so far, it also meant that there was little mercy if caught by the train master. She risked a peek out of the car hoping to jump out and dive behind any cover handy. Unfortunately what she saw made her heart sink a little. There, blocking the entrance to the train car, was a herd of cattle ready to be shipped. Worse yet, Sonora also caught sight of the three cowboys waiting to load the unwelcome beasts into her cattle car. There was no hope for getting out unnoticed; now her only option was to get out as quietly as possible and hope she wouldn’t have to answer too many questions. She knew her disguise only worked well at a distance. Her heart shaped face was too soft, and her soprano voice was far from masculine no matter how low she tried to make it sound.

Sonora grabbed her bag, took a deep breath and opened the cattle car door. She had just managed to step down when she heard someone shout at her.

Hey, boy! What the devil are you doing? shouted one of the men she’d seen earlier.

Sonora looked up only enough to acknowledge the voice then quickly lowered her head as she tried to maneuver through the herd, pushing and hitting them aside.

Get out of there! yelled another voice. She tried to comply, but she couldn’t get the cows to move. Suddenly, hands grabbed her and yanked her hard out of the way then kept hold of her arm and began shaking her as he spoke.

Didn’t you hear me, you idiot? Don’t you know you could have gotten trampled? What are you, a stowaway? His grip on her arm tightened and she yelped in pain. She fought to get free knocking her hat from her head, sending her long hair tumbling from its hiding place.

Well lookey here boys; we got us a stowaway—and a girl at that! His laugh was vicious and his eyes were cruel.

Steiger! called another man, his voice ringing with authority. Both Sonora and the man named Steiger turned and looked up to face the voice. Even aside from the horse, Sonora could tell he was tall with broad shoulders. He had a handsome face and dark brown hair kept neatly under a jet black cowboy hat. Right now his expression was hard, and his green eyes were angry.

Is that any way to treat a lady? the man asked in a deathly calm voice.

She’s a stowaway boss. I was trying to get her out of the cattle, Steiger replied defensively.

Let the lady go.

Steiger reluctantly released Sonora’s arm. She rubbed it a little then looked at the man who’d helped her and smiled her thanks. Then, not wanting to cause any more of a scene, Sonora darted toward the opening the boss’s horse had made in the cattle, and quickly headed toward town. She was very grateful she was allowed to pass in peace and that no one followed.

Once free from the chaos, Sonora stopped to get her bearings. A sign at the train station saying Carter Springs, WO elevation 5,150 ft. at least told her the town she was in. It looked like a fairly small town. One main street dominated the center while only a few buildings spilled off to side streets. The wooden buildings were strung together by a common walkway to keep pedestrians from having to walk in the dirt and mud of the main road. It was a far cry from St. Louis, and her arrival to the town had not exactly left her feeling very welcome. However, for now she was going to just have to make the best of it.

It wasn’t too hard in a town so small to find the one hotel it offered. She had saved just enough money for exactly two nights stay or one night and two meals. Hopefully after a bath and some rest she would feel better. After a few quizzical looks from the man at the front desk, Sonora was able to purchase her room and take her first bath since hopping the train from St. Louis. She relished the feel of the scalding hot water washing away the filth and soreness from traveling the past two and half days in a cattle car.

Long after the water had cooled, she finally got out and toweled off then washed her pants and shirt in the bath water. She put on the nicer of the two dresses she had in her bag and decided the needs of her stomach far outweighed her need for a nap. She sighed tiredly as she gazed at the mirror. She fought for a few minutes trying to convince her thick caramel curls to stay where she pinned them. Though the bath had washed the dirt from her face, freckles lightly covered her nose and cheeks, indicative of her fair complexion. Her blue gray eyes, framed with dark lashes, seemed too big for her petite face. Finally, satisfied enough with her reflection, she grabbed her small handbag and headed out the door.

The delicious smell of steaks wafting from the dining room greeted her as she reached the top of the steps. She fumbled with her handbag as she descended and ran right into two men coming into the hotel restaurant.

Oh! I’m so sorry! Sonora exclaimed dropping to retrieve her fallen handbag. The friendly face that met her as she rose stopped her short. It was the man from and train; the one who had made Steiger let her go. She could tell he didn’t recognize her as the same woman.

That’s alright, I don’t mind being bumped into by a pretty girl, said the man in a politely teasing manner.

He was about to walk past when Sonora said quietly, Thank you for letting me go earlier. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble. The confusion on his face was obvious, and she couldn’t help but smile a little as she clarified, I was the stowaway. Quickly, she lowered her head feeling embarrassed and foolish for letting him realize she was the same filthy, ragged woman he’d met only a few hours earlier.

The man took a step back. That was you? he asked in surprise. Well, you certainly clean up nicely. His smile was still friendly which only made Sonora blush harder.

My name’s Ryan Garrison, he said. And you would be… .

Sonora, Sonora Parish.

Ryan turned to his friend and said, Mr. Dunsford, this is the young woman I mentioned earlier.

Mr. Dunsford smiled jovially as he took Sonora’s hand. Well I must admit you arrived in a very unusual manner Miss Parish, but it is nice to meet you. Won’t you join us for lunch?

Sonora thought of politely declining, but quickly realized if these men were to pay for her lunch she’d be able to stay one more night in the hotel. That would give her more time to find a job.

Thank you, she nodded. That would be nice.

Mr. Dunsford escorted Sonora to the table. He was an older gentleman, about fifty five, slightly round figure, with peppered dark hair, friendly brown eyes, and a face full of smile lines. It didn’t take long to realize he was probably one of the kindest people she could ever meet.

Once their orders were placed, Sonora braced herself for the inevitable.

So Miss Parish, what brings you to Carter Springs? asked Mr. Dunsford. She could tell he was trying very hard not to add in a cattle car to the end of his question.

Well truth be told, the nights were getting too cold, and I needed to find a place to stay for a while until I get enough money to get to San Francisco. See, I left from Virginia, but, well, I didn’t realize how much it cost to travel all the way across the country. I ran low on money but still had so far to go, so I just found the next best thing—a freight train headed west. She felt horrible for lying, but she had no other story she wanted to tell to these two nice strangers.

If you don’t mind my asking ma’am, what in the world could be in San Francisco that is so important that you’d take such a risk to get there? asked Ryan in bewilderment.

Sonora lowered her head; there was no real way to make them understand why she had left Virginia; not and keep any of her remaining dignity. Quietly she replied, It was as far away as I could get. Before she had to explain any further, the food came out, and each began the task of eating. Sonora tried very hard not to show how ravenously hungry she was, but she was certain her company could probably tell anyway. They ate in relative silence only making a few random remarks about the food and general remarks about the town. About the time she was finishing, Ryan began the next round of questioning.

So now that you’re here, for a little while any way, what are you planning to do?

Well, I was hoping to find a job. I’m fairly good at numbers, and I am an excellent cook. I thought I could maybe find a job in a store as a salesgirl or waitress or something like that.

Mr. Dunsford rubbed his chin looking thoughtful for a moment then said, How do you feel about housekeeping? Would that be a job you would be interested in?

Sonora’s face lit up. Oh, yes! I used to keep house for my father, and I helped an elderly neighbor as well. Do you know of someone who could use a housekeeper?

Mr. Dunsford smiled. As a matter of fact I do. My daughter Sarah got married a few months back, and my house has been going to pot ever since. I had thought about asking around in town for a woman to come in and help out every now and then. This would save me the trouble. What do you think?

Sonora wasn’t sure what to think. She did need a job, and here this nice man was, offering her the one thing she knew she was good at, but it was because he was such a nice man that she hesitated.

You wouldn’t happen to be offering me this job out of charity would you? I mean, it’s nice of you to offer and all but…

Not at all, Miss Parish. In fact I was just thinking about it again yesterday. I can offer you twenty-five dollars a month plus room and board. He seemed so genuine it was impossible to turn him down.

You’d be a welcomed addition to Independence Ranch, added Ryan with a wry smile.

As long as you’re sure, then yes, I accept, Sonora finally said, fighting back the moisture in her eyes. And thank you, again.

Good! We will be heading back to the ranch later this evening. We’ll pick you up if you like, or you can come tomorrow if it suits you better.

No, tonight would be fine. I’ll be ready.

Good, it’s all settled then. Now if you’ll excuse us, Miss Parish, my foreman and I have some other business to tend to. The trio rose from the table and went their separate ways.

As Sonora lay down for a much needed rest, she couldn’t help but relive what had just happened. A few short hours in Carter Springs and she already had a job and a place to sleep; this was far better than she had imagined it ever could be. Maybe, just maybe, she could even find a home here, away from Cold Creek, away from the shame, away from the mistakes of her father.

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Four weeks earlier…

John Bishop smacked his fist against a tree crying out in frustration. Another dead end. He’d hoped since Parish had been injured he’d be easier to track. Bishop wanted that money. The heist had been messy and costly, but in the end he knew Parish had managed to get away with almost all of the money from that strong box. With two of the men still in jail and one dead, it was now an even 50/50 split. He’d tried their original rendezvous point knowing full well what he would find. Parish was no fool; he knew if anyone talked while in jail, that little cabin would be the first place authorities would search. Bishop should have never trusted Parish, but at the time he didn’t see any viable alternative. He should have known that a man that would turn against his badge for a dollar would have no qualms about turning on his partners, letting them face the hangman while he got away with the money. Fortunately for Bishop, jails were, by