Josephine's Journey: The Quade Series, #3

By Sherry Derr-Wille

Josephine has come west in search of the son she hasn't seen in far too many years. Once she arrives in Montana, she is thrilled to find that her son is about to be married. Once her grandchild is born, she agrees to take over the duties of teaching the children of the reservation in exchange for being able to stay close to her son.

George Roberts came to Montana to judge not only Crooked Snake, but also the Indian Agent, Simon Leary. He never expected to a woman who would become important in his life. When he returns to Denver and his duties there, he realizes that Josephine is the woman he wants to be his and his alone. Before that can happen, he has to prove his love to Josephine when she's not certain that she wants to commit to him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781597053754

Book preview

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to the memory of my father being interested in westerns ever since I can remember. I would also like to dedicate this to Alice Blue who is one of the best western authors I know and my idol.

Prologue

Missouri, 1876

Josephine McPherson worked in her garden. As she did, she thought about the dinner she was planning. A smoked ham glazed with wild honey roasted in her oven. Her dishpan was filled with a mess of beans, new potatoes, and leaf lettuce.

Earlier she’d canned several jars of the beans to be stored in the root cellar for the coming winter. With her sixteen-year-old twins, Quade and Quint, as well as Willard and herself to feed, it was best if she put up as many vegetables as possible. It made summer a busy time, but considering Willard’s love of whiskey, at least her family would have vegetables to eat.

This year things would be different. The twins had taken over the farm, and the crops were prospering. The harvest promised to be better than they’d ever had before. Hogs had produced healthy litters, and the cows brought forth more heifers than bulls. There would be pigs to butcher, bulls to be slaughtered, and cows to produce enough milk to sell their excess to the local dairy. Even her chickens were laying better than ever before, bringing her an excess of egg money from the store in town.

The only problem she could foresee was keeping the profits out of Willard’s hands. In desperation, she’d urged the twins to open a bank account in their names so that they could manage the profits from the hard work they’d done over the summer.

She stood up and massaged the ache in the small of her back before picking up the pan of vegetables. It was still early. The boys wouldn’t be in for supper for at least two hours, and she was certain Willard was still at the tavern, getting drunk with his friends. She would have plenty of time to sit down and write a letter to her family back in Ohio. If Willard caught her writing letters home, he would be very angry. She knew it was because of his own ignorance. Their fights usually revolved around the twins and their thirst for knowledge, since he lacked any formal education. Thank goodness, he had grudgingly allowed the boys to attend school.

With the vegetables placed on the kitchen table, she went back out to the pump in order to get a pail of water so that she could wash them and get them ready for supper. At first the pump sputtered but then produced a steady stream of water to fill the pail she would be taking into the house.

Once the vegetables were in a pan of water she quickly washed them, knowing that she would have to snap the beans before cooking them. For now, she just wanted the solitude of writing a letter to her brother, Andrew, and getting away from the drudgery of the life she was forced to lead.

Dear Andrew,

My garden is producing well this year. Since the twins have taken over running of the farm, the crops are also doing well. They have opened a bank account and assure me that there is enough money to see us through the winter, especially since Willard does not have access to it.

I am so pleased that the boys have grown to be such fine men and not followed their father’s path of drinking and gambling. I fear that one day someone will come out from town and tell me that he has been shot and is lying in the undertaker’s office.

After my bout with the flu this past winter, I find my strength has been slow in returning, but I am getting older and do not recover as quickly as I once did from things like that.

She set aside her pencil and thought about her age. She was only thirty-one years of age, but she felt much older. She’d met Willard when she was but fifteen and just prior to her fifteenth birthday, she’d allowed him privileges that were not his to take. When her father learned that she was carrying Willard’s child, he immediately insisted they should be married. It had been the beginning of the end for her. No matter what happened from then on it was her fault for getting pregnant and forcing him into a marriage he didn’t want.

Theirs had been a tumultuous marriage to say the least. The first time he had beaten her had been when she was six months into her pregnancy and they had moved from Ohio to Missouri and purchased this farm. The rains had come with a vengeance and washed out the crop before it even had a chance to grow. Willard had told her it was all her fault, because her dowry hadn’t been large enough to purchase a farm with better land.

That had only been the beginning of their fights and the beatings she would endure over the years. Now that the twins were becoming men, they were able to step in and stop the madness of Willard’s rages. She was certain that he was afraid of the two of them and therefore kept his distance from her.

I just ran into Jake Miller in town, she heard Willard shout.

She got to her feet in time to see her husband grab Quade by his shirt. Even though she had no trouble in telling the twins apart, she knew Willard did and wondered if he even knew which twin he was talking to. She’d known for months that Quint was sweet on Mary Miller.

He told me you ruined his daughter, Mary. What the hell did you think you were doing, diddling some whore over at the tavern? Things like that are best left for marriage and...

And nothing, Pa,’ Quade shouted back. I haven’t seen anything of her in weeks."

That’s not what Jake said. He told me his girl is gonna have a baby.

Did he tell you that it was me?

He didn’t have to. I know what it’s like to be your age. How do you think I got saddled with your mother? I wanted to sow my wild oats and she... well, when she got in a family way, her old man pinned it on me. You ain’t no better than me. Hell, I denied it too, but what good did it do me? It got me two worthless sons and a wife who nags me day and night. Now, I’m gonna beat some sense into you.

Jo ran from the house but not before Willard struck Quade. She stood rooted to the spot as she watched her son pick up a piece of wood from the woodpile.

In one swift, defensive move, Quade brought the wood down on his father’s head with all his might. Willard crumpled to the ground, just as Quint walked into the dooryard.

What have you done, Quade? Have you killed him? Quint questioned as he rushed to his brother’s side. You’ve got to get the hell out of here.

The look on Quade’s face frightened Jo. Your brother’s right, Quade, you have to leave. Take what you need, including the egg money in the sugar bowl. Even if you didn’t kill your father, your life is worthless here.

After shoving her oldest son into the house, she helped Quint lift Willard and carry him into their bedroom. Blood poured from the gash on his head. He was so still, she worried that Quade had actually killed him.

Ma, Quade called from the parlor.

She got to her feet and left Willard on the bed. There would be time to tend to him once Quade was gone. Behind her, she could hear Quint and Quade saying their good-byes. This would be the first time in their lives that they would be separated, and she wondered how they would be able to cope with it.

The tears she vowed she would not shed rolled down her cheeks despite her efforts to keep them at bay. How could she say good-bye to her first-born son? How could she live with the possibility of never seeing him again?

Mary’s baby ain’t yours, Quade, it’s mine. We’ve been waiting for the right time to tell her folks about it. We was gonna run away and get married and...

And I wish you happiness. I just won’t be here to see it. You’re right, if I don’t get away now, I could hang for murderin’ our pa.

As many times as she had wished Willard dead, Josephine had never expected anything like this. Quade had always been the quiet one of her sons. He’d been more interested in reading books than in fighting with the other boys at school. It was Quint who would come home with his shirt torn and his eyes blackened.

By the time she entered the parlor, Quade had just finished packing his belongings in his saddlebags. She remembered how proud the boys had been when, last winter they had earned enough money helping Ernst Rucks with his milking that they could buy the saddles and gear for the horses they had been raising ever since they were colts. Now that saddle and the trappings that went with it would be taking Quade far away from the farm in Missouri.

Seeing her tears, Quade came to Josephine’s side. It’s best if I disappear, Ma. I love you but I can’t stay here. If Pa is dead, I’ll be facing a hangman’s noose. If he’s not, he’ll make my life a living hell.

Josephine agreed, even though seeing her eldest son leave was breaking her heart. She pressed the money from the sugar bowl into his hand and dried her tears. It was best if he remembered her with a smile on her face rather than crying as he left.

Quade gave her a hug and a farewell kiss before mounting his horse. When it had been saddled she didn’t know, but she was certain Quint had done it while Quade was packing. She stood in the yard and watched as Quade rode out of her life and disappeared over the rise just to the west of the farm. She knew she would never see him again, but at least he was away from Willard’s wrath.

Before she could return to the house, she heard Willard moan, then bellow her name.

Where is that little bastard? Willard asked, his voice sounding groggy.

Josephine returned to the house and the bedroom where Willard lay in the bed they had shared for their entire seventeen years of marriage. The flow of blood had stopped, but he made no move to get up.

Where is the little bastard? Willard again questioned when she entered the room.

She gave Quint a warning glance that she hoped said to stay out of the room until she had time to calm Willard down. Quade’s gone. You’ve finally managed to drive him away with your drunken ranting.

Quade? It’s not Quade I was talking about. Where is Quint? That little bastard has gotten the Miller girl in a family way, and he did this to me! Willard put his hand to the wound on his head for emphasis.

Quint entered the room. It was Quade you accused and Quade you hit. He only retaliated. I’m the father of Mary’s child. We were waiting for the right time to tell both her folks and you about it. Of course between you and Jake Miller, there’s never a right time. You would have known before this if either of you were sober long enough to listen to us.

Willard looked at Quint skeptically. You mean you ain’t Quade?

That’s right. You’ve never bothered to figure out which one of us is which. It’s the same with nearly everybody around here, but damn it, you’re our pa. If you didn’t spend your life in the tavern, you’d be able to tell us apart. Since everyone seems to know about Mary’s condition, I’m going over there and claim her as my bride.

With those few words, Quint left the room. It took only a moment for Josephine to hear the front door slam. The sound of Quint leaving on his horse brought a puzzled expression to Willard’s face.

Where in the hell is he off to?

He told you, he’s going to get Mary and marry her. It would have been done earlier if it hadn’t been for the fact that you and Jake are usually so drunk you can’t be reasoned with.

Willard tried to get out of bed, but it was apparent that the pain and dizziness from the blow he’d taken to his head was too much for him.

It’s best if you lay back and let me tend to that wound, Josephine said. I hope this will teach you a lesson. Your oldest son is gone to God only knows where, and Quint will be married before the day is over. This isn’t the life that I had planned for the boys, but it’s the one you have forced them into. Either you stop the drinking or leave as well. I certainly don’t need you in my life. Quint will be bringing in a fine crop this year even without his brother’s help and will have the money safely in the bank, away from you. I’ve supported this family on the vegetables I’ve been able to sell in town as well as the money from the eggs and the cows that I’ve milked. In the past that’s all we’ve had to live on, and you’ve taken most of it for your days and nights at the tavern. Well, that’s come to an end. Quint and Mary will be running this farm, with or without your help.

None too carefully, she worked to wash the sensitive wound on Willard’s head before taking needle and thread to sew it shut. As she did, he made no comment about the treatment she was giving him.

She was pleased that the verbal confrontation that had been going on was finished. In its place, Willard’s dark mood turned inward, and silence reigned supreme in the room.

It was much later when Quint returned to the house with Mary. After a hasty trip to the home of the minister, they were man and wife and ready to move into the loft where the twins had slept since they were old enough to climb the ladder.

How’s Pa? Quint asked when he sat down at the table for supper.

He’s resting, Josephine replied. The next few days will be difficult. I’ve told him there will be no more money for him to squander at the tavern. This farm belongs to you and Mary now. He knows that you won’t be giving him any money, and neither will I.

Do you think it will last? Mary asked. My pa was just as drunk when he came home. Ma told him about the baby this morning, but he left before I came back from gathering the eggs. When he did come home I thought he was going to beat me within an inch of my life. Ma broke it up, and he went right back to the tavern. He ain’t gonna stop drinking any more than Willard is. I remember Ma tried to hold back the money about a year ago, and he beat her too. It’s the drink that does it to them. At least that’s what Ma says.

For the first time Josephine looked closely at her new daughter-in-law. The entire left side of her face was bruised, and she had a black eye. Tears ran down Josephine’s cheeks at the sight of the girl. It brought back memories of the many beatings she’d taken at Willard’s hands, but those days were over. From now on, she expected Willard to do as she and Quint said or leave the farm. It was his choice. As soon as he was up and about, she would insist that he sign the property over to their son.

One

The McPherson Farm, 1885

M a, Ma, you’re not going to believe it, I got a letter from Quade.

Quint’s shouts caused Josephine to put down the socks she was knitting for the children for winter and rush to the door to greet Quint.

I can’t believe it. He’s been gone for nine years. I thought he was dead. Is he all right? Where has he been?

I don’t know, Quint replied. I didn’t open it. I wanted to get home and share it with you. I thought we should both hear it at the same time. I’ve thought of him often and felt some of the same pain as he has, but I knew he wasn’t dead. I do know something is bothering him. I can feel it.

Josephine nodded her head. She had always known of the link between the two boys. When they were small and Quint had broken his arm, Quade had complained about the pain for days. It was the same when Quade was thrown off his horse and Quint had a headache from the fall that mirrored that of his brother.

She watched as Quint went into the house and sat down at the table. Both she and Ella sat down with him and waited for him to tear open the envelope and read the letter aloud.

Dear Quint,

It’s been nine years since I left home and so much has happened. I’d write this to Pa but I know he can’t read and I don’t know if he’s alive or if I killed him on the night I left.

I joined the Army and spent five years in Arizona Territory. By the time I left I had made the rank of sergeant. From there I was sent to Virginia City, Nevada. I was promoted to lieutenant and served as the personal assistant to Major Eaton until his death. Major Walters replaced him and brought along his own assistant.

I am now being reassigned to a fort in Montana. This is not something I asked for as I have had my fill of fighting the Indians that populate that area. It was the reason I asked for the transfer to Virginia City. I no longer had the stomach for killing men, women and children who had done nothing but be born with red skin instead of white.

If you would like to write to me I will be stationed at Fort Banner, in Montana. Until then I remain your brother—Quade.

It saddened Josephine that her oldest son made no mention of her in his letter, but then he probably thought his father had killed her in one of his rages. It wasn’t impossible to think such a thing. Especially since he had no way of knowing that either her or his father was still alive.

She thought about the lives they had led for the past nine years. Quint and Mary had married and were so happy until it was time for the baby to be born. Quint’s first child had been a little boy, but he had not survived, and the birth had been hard. Mary died within hours of her son. They were both buried in the small cemetery behind the house with the babies that Josephine had birthed but that had not lived past their first year of life. Also there was Willard.

In the years since Quade left, it was almost a miracle that her husband had given up drinking. He’d even signed the farm over to Quint and helped with the planting and harvest. It had been last winter when he’d contracted pneumonia and died.

It had taken Quint several years before he found someone to love the way he had loved Mary. At the time of her death, Jake Miller had accused Quint of killing her, but Willard had set him straight. Shortly after the funeral, Jake pulled up stakes and moved on, leaving his wife alone with the children. It surprised Josephine when Willard had offered his help in moving Jake’s wife into town and finding her a position as a cook at the diner where Willard had taken so many meals when he had been drinking.

Ella had come into Quint’s life five years ago. She had been like a breath of fresh air. For the first time since Mary’s death, Quint was happy and interested in doing more than work the farm. They were married within a year of their meeting; their first child, a daughter they named Jenny, was born the next year. They’d had a child every year, bringing the family to three and within a few months, their fourth would be born before winter set in. It was a blessing that they were able to have the children, as Quint had mourned the loss of his first son as well as his wife for so long. The boys, Matt and John, were a handful, but Ella managed beautifully, and Jenny was a big help with her little brothers.

Josephine spent her summer months tending the garden and did most of the sewing and knitting for the family. She had decided that she wouldn’t interfere with Ella’s household. She was just glad that the young couple had insisted she stay in the old farmhouse. Although it had been a small house that Willard had thrown together when they were first married, Quint had added on to it until now the loft was used only for storage. He had added three bedrooms onto the back, so that there would