Book of Dreams

By R. LeClair

Book of Dreams is a story of a young girl’s journey centered in the 1860’s during the time of the Indian and Civil War’s. After witnessing a horrifying accident, Claire, and her family’s journey of grieving, healing, and restoration from their loss, begins with the kindness of strangers. Learning the truths of those closest to her, she finds the will to forgive along the way. With many challenges set before her, Claire’s story is one of strength, determination, with God’s unending grace, allowing her fragile heart to heal and find true love.

As Claire rises up to meet these obstacles, her life takes an unexpected turn as she receives word from an unlikely source in need of her help. Seizing the opportunity to finish her father’s last mission, Claire leads the adventurous journey, enlisting the aid of her new husband and longtime family friend. She learns the mysteries and secrets of her father’s past and others who have watched over her from afar. Danger lurks as the mysteries begin to unravel, as Claire, and her companion’s follow the clues set before them. When at last her mission complete, all is made clear, and she realizes the end of her journey is actually the beginning of something bigger than she could ever imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798385021987

R. LeClair

Renee was born and raised in the Southern Oregon and Northern California region of the Cascade Mountain Range. Most of her childhood spent in the great outdoors, for an only child (at the time) her horse and imagination were her constant companions. One day her father bought her a journal as her love of telling tales began early and it all blossomed from there. Renee continues to live in Southern Oregon, enjoying time with her children, grandchildren, family and friends, and writing her next great story.

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Copyright © 2024 R. LeClair.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2199-4 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2200-7 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-2198-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024905984

WestBow Press rev. date: 04/03/2024

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

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

John studied Claire while she sat atop his workbench gazing out through the opened barn doors, watching the morning sunlight dancing through leaves in the barnyard. He knew Claire loved this time of year. Brilliant fall colors lit the yard as cool, crisp mornings turned to warm afternoons. Nature hastened to gather its harvest in anticipation of the winter ahead, while autumn settled upon the farm.

John roused her from her daydreams with a gentle reminder of their own preparations to complete. Claire held the crate’s lid firmly in place, while her father hammered small nails through the top. Once it was secured, they looped the attached rope through the pulley, easily loading it into the wagon.

They smiled at one another, a silent conversation passing between them as his wife’s voice from the house called out their morning meal was ready. They stood together, sharing a brief glance over the crates. John grinned as his daughter turned on her heel, stepped from the doorway, and strode out confidently, one step closer to her destiny.

John Montgomery watched his eldest daughter make her way up the path toward the farmhouse. She was his pride and joy, and they were alike in many ways. The path, worn with time, created from footprints of love and adoration, showed years of use. He cherished every moment with all of his children. However, Claire had a special gift, unlike the others, whose gifts were different but no less special. The intellectual connection between father and daughter, the others couldn’t understand.

The guarded secrets created an unknown space between John and his family. He kept these secrets to himself, protecting his loved ones. He knew the risk. His wife and children made this sacrifice worth it all.

In the 1860s, society dictated a woman’s social standing. Although many women disagreed with their placement, most complied. John, a man before his time, made equal allowances for his children, supporting their creativity and encouraging them to live the life God had destined for them.

He couldn’t shake a distressing feeling that had started a few days before. He learned long ago not to ignore such disconcerting thoughts. Across the wooden planks of the old barn’s floor, he walked to his timeworn Wooton desk. He took specific pages of parchment and vellum from the compartments within. He uncapped his inkwell and lifted the pen. Then, sitting alone, he prepared for the unknown. At last, he sealed the letters with wax and stored his supplies. Then he rose and left the barn, heading to the cavern beyond.

Breaking his fast would have to wait; he had something more pressing to do.

CHAPTER 1

The year was 1863. Claire Montgomery was twelve years old.

Her father had developed a device to modify the horse-driven plow that plagued the modern-day farmer. His invention would transform the farming industry. This swiveled device appeared to be round steel circles spinning side by side, with an inward slant, yet permanently attached in its specific space. Its design was engineered to prepare soil and bring a quicker, more easily gathered crop.

Excitement rose as Claire climbed into the wagon. Her mother and baby brother sat atop the front seat, waiting for the others to settle in back. The Iowa State Fair was their destination, where her father would launch his miracle machine into the world. At least that was Claire’s thought.

The farther they traveled, the more excited she became. Her father suggested she and her sisters walk for a while to help calm the jitters. He always preferred a pleasant walk to clear his mind.

Like her father’s in that respect, her mind was always busy. Her thoughts constantly fluttered over other thoughts until the good ideas ran together in a confusing ball of twine. The work of unraveling them would bring new ideas to light. The thought of her father’s brilliant inventions would propel her own to life. Like swift rivers through her soul, the questions and ideas flowed freely, threatening to overcome her. As her father advised, she would walk to clear her restless mind.

Her sisters, like their mother, were more the followers in the family, as she saw them. They wanted consistency, safety, and a regular schedule to follow. As the only boy, her little brother John was too young to show signs of her and her father’s intellect. Claire and her father had unique plans that ran on different fault lines and drove the rest of the family to an edge of irritated wariness.

The love Claire witnessed between her mother and father showed her that true love was obtainable. While some moments were wonderful, other moments could be strained. Her mother adored her father with deep respect, loving him just the way he was. Claire watched her parents, hoping one day she too would have someone to love.

Throughout their line of travel, Claire’s imagination led her to the place where their journey would end. She imagined large buildings adorned with decorative glass, streaming light about in colors like autumn on the farm. Reds, yellows, oranges, and pinks all swirled together in some grand masterpiece at which one would gaze in awe and wonder. There would be streets made of cobblestones and the clatter of horses’ hooves upon them with the rolling of carriage wheels. Women would stroll along in beautiful bustled dresses of every color, with the smell of baked goods wafting out from the restaurants. Her imagination was her escape from the boredom of the long days of travel.

Lost in her thoughts, Claire startled when a loud crack echoed through the grassland, then another, followed by a thundering boom that splintered the air. It struck deeply within her as it pounded out underneath them, and her heart raced as the ground shook. Blood rushed to her head as every nerve caught fire. Loud ringing in her ears made it hard to hear her mother’s frantic plea to get back to the wagon quickly.

Dark forms followed by billowing dust clouds were rushing toward them. A great herd of bison soon came into view, bearing down upon them.

Claire scrambled to get her sisters to the wagon quickly. Leaning from the wagon, Mother stumbled while reaching for the girls and become tangled in her dress’s heavy skirts. The horses, agitated, reared up in fear, jolting the wagon as it lurched forward. Mother toppled from the wagon, leaving her exposed to the danger. Cutting the horses free, her father released them, knowing they would either run in fear or be trampled in the chaos.

The scene unfolded around her. She watched her father dash around the wagon’s front end to hoist them into the wagon’s bed. Her mother desperately tried to crawl under the wagon for safety. Seconds later, Claire watched as her father threw himself atop their mother, attempting to shield her from the danger.

Claire, frantic to protect her siblings, clutched her baby brother. Her younger sisters huddled around her. The younger children cried out, covering their ears at the deafening tumult around them.

One after another, the wild buffalo forcefully shook the wooden railings while running past them. Piece by piece, the wagon began violently ripping apart. They could hear wood splintering around them, as each pounding hoof beat out a rhythm that penetrated their only protection.

The iron skein holding the front wheel to the wagon cracked on impact, dangerously tipping the wagon to one side, threatening to overturn them. The bison’s assault continued to surge around them, their lives growing closer to an end.

As the last of the herd passed and receded into the distance, reality unfolded around Claire once again. She peered out from the remains of their wagon. Then she closed her eyes momentarily to take in the sheer horror of their situation, breathing deeply. After a glance at her siblings, she looked outside again. The heavily battered prairie floor was now covered in a finely powdered substance. The particles floated around them almost gracefully before settling back down to the scarred ground.

She then focused on finding her parents.

Claire handed her brother to her sister Mary to help calm him. Crying and scared, the younger children stayed in the wagon’s remains while Claire stood to begin her search.

Her mind undertook an orderly effort to make sense of their chaotic displacement. Cautiously, she ventured out, evaluating their situation while she searched the area. Claire knew what she needed to do; her mind already one step ahead.

She fought her emotions, resisting despair as she carefully made her way to the broken bodies of her beloved parents, mere feet from safety.

Her father, the worse of the two, had tried to shield their mother from the stampede of wild beasts as they ran at full speed through their line of travel. Their bodies were entangled together.

At first she didn’t recognize the sound she heard, but it became clearer the closer she got. Her mother was gasping for breath. Claire felt the blood rush to her head again as she struggled to move her father.

Mama! she cried. Mama! She tried to move her beloved father, but he was too heavy for her slight frame. Her struggles alternated between gentleness and desperation.

A movement to her right made her gasp, jerking back protectively, as a strong pair of hands reached out to help her. She hadn’t seen anyone until then. She hadn’t heard him in her desperate attempt to help her mother.

Acting with swift yet respectful intention, the young man purposefully rolled her father to the side as her mother strenuously gasped for air. Her breaths were shallow and pained before settling into a slow, constant pattern.

The man took care in moving her, bracing her upright against the wagon’s wreckage to ease her harsh breaths. He worked deliberately in his quiet attempt to set things to rights.

Claire stood in silence. Time stood still.

Still in the wrecked wagon, her sisters waited, sitting quietly in shock. Mary still held their crying brother.

Claire continued standing over their father, as if waiting for him to tell her to take a walk to clear her busy mind.

By now, Claire’s mind had stilled. She felt lifeless and numb in her attempt to make sense of their circumstance.

The gravity of the truth weighed heavy on her heart. She gazed down at the motionless body of her beloved father. Their lives were now irrevocably changed.

The horses lay lifeless, trampled by the stampede, unable to make it far. Escape from disaster eluded them as well. They were no match for the mighty bison charging through their path.

The destruction left behind stretched on for miles. Yet as the bison ran, there was a focus on their intentions. They knew where they were going, and nothing in their path was sacred. Their mission was clear. They were to save themselves from whatever threat they sensed. The Montgomery family was no different. They, too, were trying to save themselves.

Soon this stranger she had quickly come to rely on had moved the wounded family to a small wooded area, settling her mother and siblings. He secured a perimeter, creating a small camp. He built a fire, assuring their safety, as Mother deliriously kept fretting about wild animals.

Claire remained unmoved as she continued her watch over her father. The quiet stranger had taken great care to fulfill the needs of everyone she held dear as she stood, holding a vigil over her father’s body.

She realized her father might grow cold being far from the fire. The cruel afterthought she regarded shook her. Shock was wearing off, and she trembled at the enormity of the sight before her. The thought of her family at the little camp nearby broke her resolve;