{"id":6726,"date":"2022-04-22T10:45:00","date_gmt":"2022-04-22T14:45:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/?p=6726"},"modified":"2022-04-25T16:37:56","modified_gmt":"2022-04-25T20:37:56","slug":"the-ribbon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/the-ribbon\/","title":{"rendered":"The Ribbon"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>
\n

By Cara Grandle<\/a><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Sisters of the Porcelain Doll, Book 2<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Life rips away hope and sweeps her along\u2026until she finds a future worth fighting for. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the day her mother passes away, Heather Keeton weds a neighbor who promises to provide for her. They journey along the Oregon Trail, but tragedy strikes again. Widowed, alone, and far from home in Oregon Territory, Heather needs work. But where? She determines to use her cooking and baking skills at a logging camp to earn enough to remain independent and, eventually, reach her Porcelain Doll sister, Rebecca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Land surveyor Zeke Bradley misses being part of a family<\/a>. A surprise inheritance might open the way for him to settle down and begin a courtship, but he tries to come to the aid of an injured man only to be accused of murder. One wrong move, and he could unjustly swing by his neck from a rope. He flees and hides in a logging camp, waiting for his name to be cleared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing comes easy at Camp 13 Logging Company, where the work is hard and hazardous. Heather hopes to move on soon, and Zeke longs to be free from his worries. Can these two survivors learn to trust each other before their pasts destroy their future?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

Meramec, Missouri<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

March 1847<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just before dawn, Heather had kissed her ma\u2019s cold dead cheek for the last time. Now, only two hours later, she stood frozen while her new husband kissed her<\/em> cheek. Her soul nearly caved in on itself with the weight of emotion and the strangeness of it all as the two moments converged into one. The sadness of the funeral and death-touched morning, with what was supposed to be a happy wedding day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Guilt churned heavy in her belly. Riley, faithful neighbor and friend\u2014and now husband\u2014was rescuing her, and here she was crying all over his boots. She needed to get out of this church, away from all the watchers, and out of town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, Riley.\u201d A woman shouldn\u2019t be sobbing on her wedding day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley took his family Bible from her and put a hand on her back, offering support. \u201cI understand. This was my idea. I\u2019ve had weeks to get used to it. You\u2019ve only had since last night. I should have asked sooner. But your ma\u2026\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma hadn\u2019t been awake enough to talk to for weeks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So many things had changed as Ma\u2019s declining health finally got the best of her. Four long years of sickness, struggling as the lump in her belly\u2014having grown large enough to tent her dress out\u2014consumed her. Then, in the wee hours this morning, Ma had gone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just\u2026gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The smell of wood polish the pastor\u2019s wife must\u2019ve used to clean the church mixed with the lingering smell of the herbal poultice Heather had used to ease Ma\u2019s pain. The clock in the back of the room sent shudders into her heart with each tick. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma had no ticks left.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather tried to swallow her tears as she and Riley remained standing before the pastor. They\u2019d already spoken their promises to be man and wife. Before a handful of friends gathered around ready to cheer them on, they\u2019d recited their vows to forever love each other. But instead of a warm glow, she felt cold. Numb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Closing her eyes, Heather tried to fix a younger, healthier image of her mother in her mind rather than the sick-ravaged face and form of Ma\u2019s last moments. Her mother wouldn\u2019t want her dwelling on such things at her wedding. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley had been nothing but a good neighbor to them both since Pa left them to fend for themselves. He was older than her and willing to help with the chores that needed a man\u2019s strength. Heather had been fourteen when Pa left, and Riley seemed more older brother than sweetheart. She was nineteen now and no more prepared to make her way in this world than she was back then. But that didn\u2019t stop the fact that she couldn\u2019t afford to stay in her home anymore. She had no way to support herself, and farmer Hershey was already moving his foremen into her home. Now, she didn\u2019t even have Ma to advise her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather raised a hand to rub the back of her neck, fingers brushing the ribbon she\u2019d woven through her coiled braid. Ma\u2019s ribbon, one of a pair made of sky-blue satin with tiny roses down the center. It told of another life\u2014another love\u2014another time. Ma had been happy once. Happy with her husband and then happy with her, their only child. The weight of the ribbon, the weight of real love and better times, wore on Heather\u2019s head like a crown of brick and stone. Heavy and unbending. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ribbon brought her hope, though. Its match lay resting inside Victoria, the doll Heather and her three best friends used to seal their sister-pact a year ago. When they\u2019d opened the back of the doll\u2019s soft body and hidden their treasures inside, they\u2019d made a deeper promise to witness each other\u2019s lives as best they could. They\u2019d solidified their pact for every day they hadn\u2019t yet lived. The promise she, Cora Mae, Rebecca, and Rose made was the only thing that kept Heather from crumbling to a heap on the spot. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pastor finished talking. Riley moved his hand to her shoulder, turning her, before dropping it again. They walked side by side, but not arm in arm, out the back of the white church. Heather\u2019s boots clicked the fresh, polished floor as her skirts pressed against the foot of each pew they passed. The wedding was over. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Over for a moment. Married for a lifetime<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather couldn\u2019t look into the eyes of the people who stood with smiles on their lips. They were either concerned about her well-being or, worse, overflowing in pity. These generous folks were the same ones who\u2019d carried her mother\u2019s simple pine coffin to the graveyard this morning. A coffin Riley had built without Heather knowing. Again, he protects me. I should love him.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the back of the church, a crowd of ladies waited\u2014their hems wet with the morning dew from the journey between the grassy graveyard and the altar where she\u2019d just pledged her heart. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cora Mae came as close to Heather\u2019s right shoulder as Riley had her left. Their eyes met and held. There was strength in her gaze, and a wealth of compassion. Heather drank in both, grateful for her friend\u2019s presence. Their other two friends hadn\u2019t been able to attend on such short notice. Rebecca was in Eagle Creek, Oregon Territory, with her new husband. Rose was stuck at the mercantile working, per usual. Heather understood, of course, but their absence only made her more grateful Cora Mae was here. She wouldn\u2019t have made it down the aisle without at least one of her friends present. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather, Riley, and Cora Mae stepped in unison down the church\u2019s front steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI left the wagon ready,\u201d Riley said. \u201cEverything is in order.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather nodded, content to walk past all the people watching, all the way to the wagon Riley was leading her toward. It would be their new home for this trip across the Oregon Trail. Riley had contacted a reputable guide. They\u2019d followed his advice to the letter and would continue to do so as they found their way to Oregon Country along with the many others doing the same. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her mother\u2019s ribbon, the one in her hair, blew in the breeze and tapped her cheek, mocking her\u2014continuing to press down with all that used to be, and all that could have been. All that would be. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow is chocked-full of its own troubles.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma\u2019s voice whispered in her mind, a one-sided conversation encompassing snatches of chats from years gone by. It had happened several times during the last few years as her mother quit speaking, each time bringing with it an ache in Heather\u2019s heart. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley helped her climb into the wagon and settle on one side of the buckboard bench. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d she whispered. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ribbon tickled her cheek. Heather was glad she\u2019d woven it into her hair, even though it came with the burden of her parents\u2019 true love. It was also a reminder of the sisters she\u2019d chosen and the sister-pact they\u2019d made. Riley might have helped her find her seat, but her sisters were the ones who truly settled her heart. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

All the memories of meeting with Rebecca, Cora Mae, and Rose during sewing bees came back to her. Precious times when they were all still together. When they could see each other, witness each other\u2019s lives\u2026when Ma was still alive\u2014before Rebecca had to leave. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tears began anew. Rebecca had left a year ago. Now Heather was leaving. Would the four of them ever be together again, sharing in each other\u2019s lives?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wagon rocked on its traces as Riley put something in the back. Then, thoughtful as always, he reached up to wrap a blanket around her shoulders, bracing her from the cold March wind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If only it would warm her on the inside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At least she could pretend she would be meeting up with Rebecca since she was heading that way. She\u2019d never see her Ma again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley placed his family Bible on the wagon seat beside her. It was important to him. His mother had been gone long before their families had met. The Bible carried the names of many generations that came before. Riley was only two years older than Heather. They\u2019d need every scrap of their shared wisdom to get through this time. Riley\u2019s pa was around, but no one wanted a pa like him. Did he even know his son married today? Heather was too tired to ask\u2014weary deep in her bones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley adjusted the Bible and let his hand slightly brush her skirts as he did so. He always seemed to know the quiet ways to lend her strength, ways found during the last five years. Ma\u2019s declining health and Heather\u2019s need for assistance had given Riley plenty of reason to avoid his own home. And father. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Father?<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Could a man like that even be called by such an endearment? Could hers? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pa left them five years ago, his wife\u2019s pain and struggle too much to watch when he loved her so deeply. Heather understood his reasons. Even while hating him for it, there had been many times she\u2019d wanted to do the same. It was exhausting on so many levels standing by, day after day, as a loved one wasted away, but she would never<\/em> trade those last sweet days and years with her ma. Not for anything, not even a moment\u2019s reprieve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But that part of her life was over. Now it was time to leave. She needed to unfreeze her heart. She needed to be out of the house and home where every corner held precious memories. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. I think He wrote that one just for me.\u201d<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma\u2019s sweet voice inside her memories was only an echo of the real sound. She doesn\u2019t hurt anymore. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jesus was holding her now. That was what Heather needed to be thinking on. Not the fact that neither of her parents were here to hold her. She wished she knew where Pa was, though. Wished she could tell him about Ma\u2019s passing. She\u2019d written a letter for him and left it at the post office. He would find it if he ever returned home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her trunks were already in the back of Riley\u2019s overly stocked wagon\u2014their wagon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He fussed with a few things. Cora Mae stood at her side with one hand resting on Heather\u2019s leg, continuing to offer silent support. She\u2019d offered to have Heather live with her, and save her this marriage, but Heather couldn\u2019t accept. Cora Mae lived with her father, who was intent on getting his daughter married to a man of his choosing the day she turned eighteen. Heather would only be a burden. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley returned to his side of the wagon. \u201cLet\u2019s go find Rose. She\u2019ll want to say good-bye.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather swallowed more of Riley\u2019s goodness. \u201cThat would be good.\u201d Tears continued to pour down her cheeks and drip from her chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cora Mae squeezed Heather\u2019s thigh and stepped back when Riley climbed on board. His thick legs and shoulders bunched on his stocky frame as he settled on the seat and flicked the reins to set them moving. Cora Mae walked beside them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather didn\u2019t look back. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t cry for me, child.\u201d<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma\u2019s often repeated words of the last months caressed her like the brisk March wind on her damp cheeks. She let the words and the winds dry her face to match her withered soul. She would obey. Not another tear would splash down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wouldn\u2019t look back toward the square-built cabin that she\u2019d been born in\u2014that she\u2019d experienced everything in her life to date in. She wouldn\u2019t look back to Meramec\u2014this town, the little church, her mother\u2019s grave\u2014the place that branded a hole in her soul clearer than the seared scar on the oxen\u2019s rump that rocked back and forth with heavy treading steps ahead of them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ahead.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the only thing she could dwell on that didn\u2019t make her feel pulled and weighted. Forward was the only way to move. There weren\u2019t any reasons to cry in tomorrow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not yet.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley sat silent beside her, solid and strong\u2014leaving his only home too. He\u2019d never been anything but kind, and simple, and quiet. He would keep her safe from harm on the outside and the inside, as best he could. He would provide for them both\u2014she was sure. A twinge of guilt fluttered where love should reside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t matter. Riley knows I don\u2019t love him.<\/em> Likely he didn\u2019t love her either. Not like that. She cared for him, and he her, and she would let herself cry if she lost him. But that was where the emotions would stop. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley was familiar and worn, like a broke-in pair of leather boots\u2014a good fit with no rubs. A simple love might grow from respect, but it would never turn into the raging flames her parents knew. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Good. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That kind of love killed you and wrecked you when it was lost. No sir, Heather never wanted to love Riley so much\u2014or anyone else for that matter. Love like that was a living death sentence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wagon rolled slowly down the main street. Bumping heavily in the puddles left from the last rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at the side of Riley\u2019s square face, not far above her own, as they rolled past first the doctor\u2019s office and then the blacksmith\u2019s. The wrinkle lines creasing his brow already carried deep concern for her. She would be a good wife to him. She knew how to do that. Knowing how to keep house and home was one of many gifts Ma had given her. Using those gifts would become her new purpose\u2014her way to still feel connected and whole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The farther they pulled down the main road, the more sucking grief clutched at her chest. The force was so great she wished she could fold into the same dark ground she\u2019d buried Ma in this morning. She bit back a sob\u2014no more tears<\/em>\u2014but Riley must have heard anyway. He reached over his mother\u2019s Bible and touched her hand with the back of his. She jolted at the merest brush, but quickly relented and let her hand settle close to his\u2014only bumping when the wagon hit more ruts and puddles. He was her reality. The grief would lead her nowhere\u2014nowhere good anyway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

His voice was soft, just above a whisper. \u201cI understand, Heather. Better than you think. Don\u2019t forget this wedding was my idea. Leaving and going to Oregon Country\u2014mine as well. We both need a fresh start. We just hafta keep going until we get to the other side of the Trail. Take each concern as it comes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She closed her eyes and let his words soak past her fears. A new beginning. It was what they both needed. Her and<\/em> her new husband. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Husband. Riley. <\/em>The two words together sounded so strange, much like his chaste kiss on her cheek from the wedding. She\u2019d made the right choice, she knew that, but would it ever stop feeling so awkward?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were almost to the mercantile\u2014to Rose. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She would miss her porcelain doll sisters that still lived here in Meramec. She would miss them almost as much as she would miss her mother. Her heart felt like it could quit beating at any moment with the losses that piled on. They were heavier than the flour sack in the back of their wagon. She hoped and dreamed the Oregon Trail would take her close to Rebecca. Her brave friend had left on a similar start-over journey. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was glad a letter from Rebecca made it back last fall, before Heather had to leave. She knew where her friend was, sort of. Well, she had an address. If life turned out half as blessed as Rebecca\u2019s with a new home, Heather could stand tall in the face of losing everything. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley gave her his hankie. Heather fingered the sturdy tick fabric, grateful, again, for his quiet care. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They rolled to the mercantile doors and pulled up. Rose came rushing out, her long legs easily closing the distance to the side of the wagon where Cora Mae was. She thrust a packet of papers into Heather\u2019s hand, clinging when Heather would have let go. \u201cI don\u2019t know what I\u2019m going to do with both you and Rebecca so far away. I can\u2019t stand this.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather bent over the side of the wagon, blanket slipping from her shoulders as she gave Rose the biggest hug of her life. Then, sitting back up, she clutched the papers to her chest and smiled at her two friends. The first real smile of the day\u2014wedding included. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI never could forget. It\u2019s part of me. You\u2019re part of me. Forever.\u201d She didn\u2019t think it possible to bury her mother and smile in the same day but her friends had always been precious to her. \u201cVictoria holds all our secrets now; she will hold all to come.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo matter what?\u201d Rose asked. She grabbed Cora Mae\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo matter what,\u201d Heather promised. \u201cI\u2019ll write like Rebecca. I won\u2019t keep anything back. If you guys don\u2019t witness my life, who is there to care?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before either of her friends could answer, Riley\u2019s father stormed out of the mercantile, slamming the door and making the windows of the building shudder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He shook his fist in their direction. Heather put a hand on Riley\u2019s family Bible\u2014the one thing he\u2019d asked her to carry on their wedding day\u2014her way of trying to protect Riley from this new onslaught. Could she give him strength she didn\u2019t have? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGet down off that wagon seat this minute, boy! You ain\u2019t leaving! You have responsibilities\u2014chores back at the house!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley stiffened beside Heather. The oxen balked at his tightening of the reins. Riley clicked them forward, ignoring the curses his father spat at him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather turned to her two friends, jogging to keep up beside the wagon. This was her last time seeing them. She couldn\u2019t let Riley\u2019s pa take that from her. \u201cThank you for this,\u201d she said, waving the papers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cora Mae\u2019s face was flushed red with more than the fast pace. Tears glistened in her friend\u2019s eyes. \u201cWe\u2019ll write back as soon as we know where you are.\u201d Her voice wobbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Rose agreed. \u201cI filched the paper from my brother\u2019s supply box. He\u2019ll never miss it. He\u2019s too worked up about the last town meeting. Not a single person listened to his chest-puffing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll write. I promise.\u201d Heather hugged the papers Cecil had unknowingly donated, careful not to lose her seat in the swaying wagon that was rolling faster and faster as Riley tried to leave his father behind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know you already have it, but I put Rebecca\u2019s address in there too. We can\u2019t be too careful. We need to keep in touch as much as possible. We have to.\u201d There was so much concern and longing in Rose\u2019s eyes, it almost brought another round of tears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather had cried so many times during the last year\u2014even more in the last day. Tears never seemed to help much. She sniffed and let the frigid breeze dry her lashes as she clutched Riley\u2019s hankie in her fist. The wagon pulled ahead. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe are sisters. I won\u2019t forget it,\u201d she called to them, waving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley\u2019s pa caught the oxen\u2019s reins, tugging them sideways. \u201cI told you to git home. Stop and face me like the man you think you are.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Confused, the oxen stopped. The wagon rocked and wobbled. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley flicked the reins out of his pa\u2019s hands. \u201cNo, sir. I\u2019ve answered to you for long enough. I ask for nothing that\u2019s yours. I take nothing of yours. Kindly get out of the way. I\u2019m leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His pa spat and then uttered another string of curses. Heather\u2019s cheeks flushed as folks on the boardwalk stopped and stared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Heather was glad when Riley ordered the oxen to move again and the wagon rolled forward. This town would always hurt, even with Cora Mae and Rose in it. Leaving was best. The only <\/em>solution left for her was forward and away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She called out reassurances to her friends and to herself. \u201cIt will be all right. I assure you. I don\u2019t know what tomorrow brings, but I know Riley will see me safe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley\u2019s pa heard her words and bellowed his own reply. \u201cRiley won\u2019t see you safe. He\u2019s dumber than a sheep fallen over in a ditch.\u201d His face mottled and spit flew with each harsh word. \u201cToo stupid to figure his numbers or his letters, that boy is, and too stupid to travel half a mile without help. You\u2019ll see. You\u2019ll regret sharing his saddle before the sun sets.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riley kept his face forward. His hands were white on the reins as he answered back, directing his words to her not his pa. \u201cThose things are true, about the learning, Heather. I\u2019m sure that\u2019s no surprise to you. I don\u2019t pretend to be what I\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before he could shrug or make any more excuses, she put a hand on his arm. \u201cIt\u2019s a hard day to be happy, Riley, but I\u2019m content. I don\u2019t regret my decision.\u201d She turned back to her friends, waving a final goodbye. \u201cI\u2019ll miss you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They both waved their own good-byes. Heather sealed the image of them clinging to each other as she held on to the thought of the porcelain doll and all their sister-promises.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She waved until they were nearly out of sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The town shrank behind them as they made their way toward Independence, the starting point of the Oregon Trail. Heather couldn\u2019t picture what her future home would look like. She tried to remember how Rebecca described her new place. The more Heather thought about it, the more it didn\u2019t really matter what her new home would look like. If she had any say in the matter, they would aim to get as close as she could to Rebecca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eagle Creek<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the name of the town. She would keep going until she was close to that. She would do her part to cover as much ground as possible, each day, before the wheels on the wagon stopped turning. Would her new husband agree?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Husband.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her husband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She glanced back into the wagon bed, at the slim pallet that covered most of the floor between the barrels and boxes of supplies. She swallowed, refusing to even look at Riley. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What had she done?<\/p>\n\n\n