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Read books online » Fiction » The Diary of Jerrod Bently by J.W. Osborn (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «The Diary of Jerrod Bently by J.W. Osborn (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖». Author J.W. Osborn



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Victoria met her husband in the front hall of the ranch house. She was on her way to help Esparanza in the kitchen. She was going to ask Doc if Floyd and Ely had been able to get all the supplies on her list when they took the wagon into town earlier that morning. The look on Doc’s face was more of a warning than a greeting.
“What is wrong, Love?,” Victoria asked.
Doc was quiet for a moment as he stood there in the hall looking back at his wife. “Vic,” he said “, Did you ever do something you felt was the right thing to do at the time, then take a step back and watch it all blow up in your face?”
“Well, of course I have, Doc,” Victoria replied “Why do you ask? Has something happened?”
Doc fished in the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “My sister is coming to Sam and Jerrod’s wedding,” he said “and they are on the way here now. I figured if any of those Philadelphia Stevens’ came, it would be just Brian. He’s Joe and Sarah’s boy. But it ain’t just Brian Dodge. Lillie is coming with him.”
Victoria took the telegrapher’s hand written note from Doc and began to read. This is wonderful.,” she said as she looked up at her husband’s doubtful expression. “You should not be worried about this. It will be good for Sam to see her brother and for Jerrod to meet him and your sister.”
“Suppose it will, Darlin’,” Doc drawled “But you don’t know my sister.”


++++++++++

Brian Dodge smiled across the stage coach at Essie. She was dozing as the Overland coach rocked and jolted its way to Grant’s Creek. The six horse team was fresh when they left the train station, so he hoped they would reach their destination on time. How long had it been? He’d been to the Bear Claw and Grant’s Creek a few times, but he hardly remembered the cabin his Grandfather lived in. He was looking forward to seeing him, and especially seeing Sam. Aunt Lillie always was ready with a complaint while they’d traveled, by train all the way from Philadelphia. But when they reached Texas, she had kept her criticisms , complaints and ranting about manners and savages to herself. Brian asked Essie Wilburn to come along with them and help with the wedding. He had two good reasons for asking her too. Lillie needed her help, and Brian was in love with the girl. If she could handle his Texas kin folk, then he was going to marry her if she’d have him. It was high time he found a wife and settled down. Brian was twenty two now, six foot six, like his father, with dark brown hair, but his hazel green eyes, were the Stevens’ blood in him. He was devastatingly handsome, but Brian had never seemed to notice the effect that he had on the young ladies he met. He detested the attentions of the Philadelphia socialites’s daughters. There was nothing real about any of the ones his aunt paraded in front of him like prize breeding mares at a horse auction. He’s life was in his work until that one night four months ago when he’d realized that Essie Wilburn, who cleaned his Aunt’s house, washed the clothes, cooked for him and listened to his dreams and defeats meant far more to him than the friend she thought she was. He loved everything about her, her strawberry blonde hair, that curled around her face, and her china blue eyes and her smile was like a ray of sunshine. She was Irish through and through, and he admired her courage and open mindedness. She’d even helped him on several barn calls. Yes, Brian thought. She is the one and she doesn’t even know it.” Aunt Lillie would have a fit when she heard of his plan, but Dr. Brian Dodge had made up his mind. Essie Wilburn would become the new Mrs. Dodge one day. He thought of Sam. He could not wait to see her. It had been far too long and what was this Jerrod Bently like? He hoped he was a good man.

Victoria Stevens was a warm smile, a kind word and like a breath of fresh air at the ranch. I think that everyone had fallen in love with her. Even the some times grumpy and disagreeable Esparanza, who had been the cook on the Flying S forever, liked her. She even seemed happy that Victoria was there to help with the preparations for our wedding. Three days, and I would make Sam my wife. Our quiet little wedding had become the talk of the county and everyone from Grants Creek to the realm of Wolf Standing wanted to attend. Now that made me a little nervous, but then I was the bridegroom and I couldn’t give in to that. I was in kitchen watching Victoria as she and Esparanza worked, I was trying to forgot about my nervousness over saying my vows to Sam in front of half of the great state of Texas. “Keep you fingers out of that batter, Jerrod Bently,” Victoria admonished “That is what will soon be a wedding cake?” Since I had come to know Doc’s bride, I truly appreciated her in many ways, especially her cooking. I believe that Victoria Stevens could have taken an old jack rabbit and made a feast out of it. The woman was amazing, but I could not resist a taste of the batter she was preparing. The result was the loud crack of her wooden spoon hitting the table top near my hand. “Jerrod!”, she said. I thrust my batter coated finger into my mouth and trying not to grin to widely, and left the kitchen to look for Sam. She’d gone out for a ride with Lillie Greyhorse and Little Fox, and she as due back anytime now. I stepped out onto the front porch and enjoyed a cool autumn breeze as it passed, causing the curtains in the open parlor windows to dance. That was when I heard the buggy coming up from the back barn. That was right. Family was due to arrive to day. With all the excitement, I’d nearly forgotten. Doc pulled up with a matched team of bays in harness. He did not look happy. “Afternoon, Sherrif,” I said as I stepped off the porch to meet him.
“It’s afternoon all right,” he groused “But I can’t say anything good about it.”
“Awe, come on, Doc,” I protested “She can’t be all that bad. Can she?”
He pushed his black hat back from his forehead. “Like I told my wife, Jerrod.” he drawled, “You don’t know my sister.”
“May be not.” I replied ,“But it is what is it, Doc. Besides that, I am wanting to meet Sam’s brother. Mind if I ride along?” That cock eyed grin of his appeared to erase the foul mood he was in from his face.
“Sam isn’t back from over yonder yet, is she?”, he asked.
“No,” I answered “But I am not worried.”
“Bear Claw was where your bride to be grew up,” Doc said “She has friends there that she has not seen for a while.” He scooted over on the leather seat if the buggy. “Come on, Bently,” he said “Misery loves company.”
I climbed up next to him. “Well,” I said as I put my hat on my head. “Let’s go meet the stage.”
He slapped the reins and the team moved forward. Now I had driven with Doc many times. I’d seem him do things with the buckboard that I would never dream of attempting. He liked to drive his horses fast sometimes, but today he didn’t seem to want to ask them for even a trot.
“Doc,” I said “This isn’t like you. Those bays are the best team we’ve got here.”
“Son,” he drawled “I ain’t in any hurry.”
“Well,” I agreed, “Neither am I. So I leaned back in the seat and put my feet up on the dashboard. As I pulled my hat down to shade my eyes I saw him take a cigar out of his pocket. “Here,” he said “Hold the reins for me while I light up. Lillie always hated it when I’d smoke a good cigar.”
I took the reins out of his gloved hand and kept the team at the same slow pace they’d set. Doc struck a match at lit his smoke. The acrid yellow gray smoke blew over me. “I can understand why,” I said , trying to fan the smoke away with my hand.
Doc laughed “There are things that stink worse than this cigar, Jerrod,” he said wryly.
I remembered Old Pede’s story about the pole cat and laughed. “S’pose you’re right,” I said. “You think the stage will be on time?”
“Never has been.,” Doc replied as he took the reins back “But today might just be my lucky day,” he added sarcastically. At that he reached for the buggy whip and snapped the bays into a trot.

The Overland Stage pulled in two hours late. It arrived in a cloud of dust and the shouts of the driver to his team. With dust in the air, the jingle of harnesses and the crunch of iron rimmed wheels it came to a halt in front of the Grant’s Creek Hotel. For a moment I thought of
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