Daughters of the Heart Read online

  A Texas Romance

  Book Five, 1853-1854

  Praying my story gives God glory!

  Five-Star reviews of Daughters of the Heart

  Oh those teenagers! Raging hormones, sibling rivalry, heads that are empty of anything except the cutest boy on the ranch, rebellion against parental control, full of themselves, conniving, conspiring to get their way . . . on and on it goes. Teenagers! To think, all of us were teenagers once upon a time back in medieval ages . . . at least that’s what teens think about their parents. Everyone knows Mom and Dad are so out of touch and old fashioned!

  Judging from Daughters of the Heart, nothing has changed today from the 1850s. Caryl Lawrence McAdoo has penned a book to tickle the funny bone and warm the heart. Her characterizations are spot on, her plot believable and her writing compels the reader to turn the page. With a villain or two who give rise to a span of time when the reader’s heart leaps into their throat and three teenage daughters whose common sense has been doused by a healthy dose of hormones, not to mention, two parents who are kept on their toes from the antics of their brood, for sure, Daughters of the Heart will take you hostage and keep you up well past your bedtime.

  This reviewer loved Daughters of the Heart. I do believe it is Caryl McAdoo’s best book yet. Now up for pre-order, the reader would be well advised to reserve their copy. Can hardly wait to see what comes next from Mrs. McAdoo’s rich imagination and gifted pen.

  --Cass Wessel, multi-published author of devotionals

  A fun packed Christian romance novel with plenty of action, heartbreak, tears, deception, twists, and turns. Henry's daughters, Gwendolyn and Cecelia are coming of age. His oldest daughter, Mary, had broken his heart when she eloped. Therefore they along with their younger sister, Bonnie, made a pact never to break their father’s heart like their big sister had, but when suitors show up, it's hard for them to stay determined to keep their promises to each other. Will they ever know God's will for their life? Will they find true love? Will Dad accept a suitor for them and give his blessings? Their loving stepmom helps them by helping their dad to see they are growing up, and he can't hold them back. Will they realize that stepmom, May, loves them as daughters of her heart?

  --Joy Gibson, a Tennessee reader and pastor’s wife

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, places, characters, and events are products of the author’s imaginations, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

   2015 by Caryl McAdoo

  All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever- except short passages for reviews – without express permission. For information, address Post Office Box 622, Clarksville, Texas, 75426.

  First Edition

  September 1, 2015

  Printed and bound in the United States of America

  ISBN-13 978-1512-2737-9-3

  ISBN-10 1512-2737-9-1

  Cover Art by Kirk DouPonce of DogEared Design, Woodland Park, Colorado www.dogeareddesign.com

  Dedication

  Because of what You’ve done for me, I’ll praise Your Holy name forever. I long to wear Your wedding ring. Oh, purify this humble bride! So that when You come, I’ll be ready, pure and spotless, my lamp full of oil. At the sound of the trump, I’ll meet You in the sky and join the marriage feast. One with You! Oh glory! One with You! No One else in heaven or earth’s as true. What a celebration! Oh, the bliss… when You impart Your Holy kiss. (lyrics of a new song He gave me. I could never repay Him for all that He has done.)

  I love You, Abba!

  Then there’s my Ron, my love and my life. The kindest and most gentle man I’ve ever known. We’ve been together since sixteen years old, married at eighteen right out of high school, and enjoyed forty-seven years together—most of them.

  But it’s fun to live life with your best friend. We love being together, talking, laughing, and loving. As scripture says, in this world, you will have tribulation—and we certainly have had our share—but we remain full of good cheer, because God kept us and helped us through every one.

  I love you, Ron—more today than yesterday, but less than tomorrow. I’ll love you until forever.

  And the daughters of my heart. I only birthed one baby girl, Cathryn Elizabeth McAdoo Baily Chronister who brought an unfathomable joy and sorrow to my life. Next came Carisa Marie Black McAdoo DeCormier who I embraced without condition. Then my own Snow White, whom I chose at first sight, Janis Sue Bailey McAdoo. Melissa Victoria Massey McAdoo keeps me laughing—and weeping—as I go. And God blessed me with Dana Ann Woods McKinney McAdoo who continues to swell my heart. An honorary daughter is my precious and beautiful Margarette Combs, ever faithful and true.

  These women, I love. They will always live in my heart and be in my prayers, and I dedicate this story to them.

  Acknowledgements

  In everything I do,if there be any good, it is due to the One and Only You, Yahweh!I worship and adore You, lay my life before You, songs of praises singing! Alleluias ringing! Always and through eternity!

  I acknowledge my head, Ron McAdoo, who does his best to love me as Christ loves the Church. I know for a fact—in both cases—that isn’t always easy. My husband’s been my man for forty-nine years (married forty-seven). I’d never achieve what I have if not for him and his wise counsel. He’s quite the story teller himself and the reason I have such strong, lovable heroes!

  Thank you once more, Kirk DouPonce of Dog Eared Design for creating my beautiful cover. Readers keep telling me, this is my favorite story yet, and I can say the same of your exquisite covers. What a gifted Christian graphic designer and photographer you are, so evidently led of the Lord.

  There’s a group I call the Christian eVALUaters. Members are the first readers (usually) after all the edits are made (five or six editors), and sometimes still find one or two more to help make it the best it can be. They support me on social media with every cover reveal, book launch, and promotion, and they review all my books! Authors need a few special volunteers, and every one of these ladies—and the few gentlemen, too—deserve and have my deep gratitude.

  God-sent Lenda Selph who continues to bless my soul proofreading, my personal comma-kaziqueen! And Louise Koiner and Cass Wessel are such wonderful catchers, too! Thank you, ladies!

  And I must acknowledge all my readers! Thank you for reading my stories, for leaving reviews, for clicking ‘Share’ and ‘Like’ on Facebook, tweeting, and recommending my stories to your friends. I need y’all and thank y’all and pray for God to bless you all for blessing me! My cup overflows!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one
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  Family Saga Characters

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  Chapter One

  A sob preceded the slammed door. Cecelia’s heartbeat quickened, and she pushed herself up from her water closet’s floor. She covered her mouth for her sister’s sake then returned the glass to its hiding place behind the washcloths.

  “Poor Gwendolyn. Daddy’s such a….”

  Actually, no. He wasn’t.

  She straightened her dress and strolled into her room. Footfalls echoed up the stairs.

  Was that another sob?

  Her sister’s bedroom door banged against the jam, Hopefully, she didn’t break it, ’cause if she did, he’d for sure have her doing the fixin’, and poor ladyfingers Gwen could never be called handy—unless one needed sewing done.

  Though everything in her wanted to race over, she counted to ten, then hurried across the hall, tiptoeing wide steps. Swinging the door back and forth once on its hinges, satisfied her. Nothing broke, all in order, good.

  She eased in. Her older sister sprawled across her bed with her faced buried in a pile of pillows. No one slept on as many pillows as that girl.

  “Sister, what’s wrong? What’d he say?”

  Gwen shook her head, but didn’t look at her. “He’s so pigheaded.”

  A warm breeze fluttered the curtain, carrying the scent of fresh-cut hay. Cecelia sat on the bed and patted her sister’s back. “I’m so sorry.”

  She rolled over. “I hate him.”

  “No, you do not. We all love him, and you know it.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I hate her, too.”

  “Oh, don’t say that. What did Mama do anyway? She hardly ever gets involved.”

  “Well, that’s just it. She sat there the whole time and never said a word on my behalf. Didn’t even try to talk one bit of sense into him! She’s a female... you’d think –”

  The door opened.

  “Hey, you two. What happened? I saw Clay leaving.” She stepped inside. “Why’d he go?”

  Waving off her baby sister, Cecelia gave a relieved sigh it wasn’t Daddy. “Go away, Bonnie Claire. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Gwen sniffed then sat up. ”No, it’s alright. Let her come on in.” She patted the bed inviting the baby on. “Come up here by me. Close the door though.”

  The twelve-year-old climbed up next to her oldest sister—well, at home anyway…or if she didn’t count Rebecca or Mary Rachael—and snuggled in next to her. She put her hand on Gwen’s cheek. “Are you crying?”

  “Not anymore. I’ll be fine.”

  “What happened? Did you and Clay have a fight?”

  Cecelia looked to her big sister who shrugged then faced the baby. “No, Daddy just said he couldn’t come courtin’ anymore.”

  “Oh, no! Why would he?”

  “Because, supposedly, we’re not a good match. At least, that’s what he claims. And worse, May just sat there and let him talk.”

  “Don’t call her that. Really, she hasn’t done anything, Gwen, and that’s so rude.”

  “You weren’t in there, CeCe! She just sat there staring at the floor.”

  “Oh no.” Bonnie’s eyes grew wide. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. What can I?”

  “I don’t know, but you love him, right? There must be something….”

  “I thought I did.”

  “So? If you love him –”

  “No! We cannot go against Daddy. No matter what or how pigheaded he gets.”

  Her heart broke over Gwen’s terrible situation. “But Mary Rachel –”

  “Exactly!” She rolled off the bed and walked to the window. “You were there, CeCe…when he got her telegram. It was almost like a part of him died. She broke his heart, then Caleb broke hers. Daddy was right all along.”

  “What about Jethro Risen, though? If she hadn’t of run off, then she never would have met him, and I like him a lot. Don’t you?”

  “But you cannot think like that, Bonnie! You and CeCe and me, we are true daughters. He loves us more than anything in the world.”

  “Even Mama?”

  “Yes, sweetie, he loves us even more than May. He’s known us longer.”

  “That’s right. We’ve got his blood. He loves us most.” Cecelia turned toward the window and her older sister. “So what are you saying? You’re just going to quit seeing him because Daddy said? Clay isn’t like Caleb, and you know it.”

  “But I have to. If Daddy says no, then that’s that. It only means there’s someone else out there for me.”

  “It’s just not right.”

  “It is, CeCe. And I want you to promise right now.”

  “Me? Promise what?”

  “And you, too, Bonnie Claire.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “Promise what, Gwen?”

  She walked over to the bed and took both her sisters’ hands, making a circle.

  “I want you both to promise with me that you will never break Daddy’s heart. You have to agree, too, or you won’t be a true sister. He doesn’t deserve it. We can never break his heart like Mary Rachel did.”

  The baby dropped her hand and Cecelia’s then folded her arms across her chest. “I liked Clay.”

  “Bonnie, promise.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “But if Clay Briggs isn’t good enough, he’s never going to let any of us get married.”

  Clarksville, seat of Red River County, Texas. Finally, the Belle skidded to a stop. Elijah shook his head. Jethro had not lied, couldn’t be a more bustling, quaint place tucked into the woods in all of the state.

  He kept to his bench until the other two passengers disembarked, a drummer never at a lack for words and a man about his age who appeared military by his bearing, but refused the salesman’s attempt at conversation.

  Good thing. If he’d been as big a talker as the drummer, Elijah would have had to ride with the driver.

  Once the stage’s dust settled, he climbed down, retrieved his carpetbag, glanced around the busy square, then strolled into the hotel. What was a Donoho? Had to be someone’s surname.

  Again, he hung back until the other two men booked rooms then bellied up to the front desk. “Henry Buckmeyer. Could you tell me how I get to his place? Do you know?”

  “Yeah, sure I know. You need a room?”

  “Not unless Mister Buckmeyer’s home is too far to get to by dark. It’s my understanding his ranch is near town.”

  “That’s right, only about five miles south as the crow flies.” The clerk nodded to his right. “Two blocks down is a livery. You can hire a buggy there and just tell your driver. Everyone knows the Buckmeyer place.”

  Half an hour later, with a map drawn with coal on a burlap seed sack and his new rig—a well-built surrey and a nice little mare—Elijah headed south out of town. The whole trip from California, he hadn’t let himself think about Mary’s sisters.

  But now, almost there, his heartbeat quickened, and he could hardly get enough breath for the anticipation.

  Jethro hadn’t stretched the truth about Clarksville. No reason to think he would varnish the reality of the abundance of Buckmeyer beauty. He could hardly wait to lay eyes on Gwendolyn or Cecelia.

  The baby girl, too, except she’d not be old enough to wed for a few more years.

  Each so beautiful, the sunsets were jealous. That’s what his partner had said.

  He’d take himself one for wife if they were half as pretty as their sister. And if cut from the same cloth as Mary Rachel. The only thing that surpassed her beauty was the size and sincerity of her sweet heart.

  Cecelia handed her stepmother another split peg then chuckled. “A man may work from sun to sun –”

  “But a woman’s work is never done.” May smiled then leaned in close. “How is our Gwendolyn doing?”

  Cecelia did a slow three-sixty the
n shrugged. “She thought she loved Clay, but she won’t go against Daddy’s wishes. I don’t think she ever will.”

  “Good.” May held out her hand.

  Cecelia handed over another peg. “Have you asked him?”

  “No, I wanted to wait until after –”

  “Mother. Three-quarters of the girls my age in the county are already married. The rest are so…so…undesirable, no one wants them. I’m almost seventeen. What if all the good ones get taken in the next year?”

  “CeCe, I said I would talk to him. But you know how your father is.” She grinned. “If I can make it seem to be his idea, then your chances go up considerably.”

  Though she had to agree, she still hated that Mary Rachel had ruined it for her. Just because she ran off and married the wrong man, didn’t mean Cecelia would.

  Mercy—as the great Henry Buckmeyer would say—if he had his way, she might never marry and she and her sisters would grow up to be old maids. The thought broke her heart.

  Her bratty brother busted through the back door. “Rider coming! Pro’lly another suitor for Gwen.” Houston put his finger in his mouth and faked a gag. “Pro’lly another gold digger like all the rest. Why else would someone want her?”

  “Samuel Houston Buckmeyer! Watch your mouth, or I’ll hold you down and get Bonnie to give you what for.”

  May leaned in close. “Leave him be. He’s just trying to get your goat.”

  Well, the spoiled little terror already had, but ignoring him did make sense. He only craved attention. When he wasn’t the center of everyone’s, he acted up something awful. She helped finish pinning the wash, then decided she’d go see the new suitor.

  Wow, word surely spread like a late summer grassfire in Red River County.

  Clay hadn’t been gone but a few hours.

  “Where’s Crockett?” She handed the bag of clothespins to May. If that baby needed tending, she’d see to him. Couldn’t get enough of that little booger. “Need any help with him?”