THE WIDOW OF THE SOUTH (AND A GIVEAWAY!) by Cheryl Pierson

Hi Everyone, this is an “oldie but a goodie” about a place that I still think about, years after seeing it for myself. I posted it several years ago, but it’s worth reading and learning about, and if you’re like me, you might not remember it even if you did read it all those years ago! This was one of the most fascinating places I have ever visited, and I wanted to share it again with you. I hope you enjoy!

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I read a book, and I knew I had to go see this place for myself… It all started when I read THE WIDOW OF THE SOUTH by Robert Hicks, a novel he wrote about a woman who made the dead soldiers of the War Between the States her life’s work. By the time I finished reading that book, I knew I had to go visit this place, Carnton, where she had lived and devoted her life to the dead.

Carnton is the name of the plantation just outside of Franklin, TN, where Carrie Winder McGavock and her husband John made their home with their two children, Hattie and Winder. There is so much history that comes before the fateful Battle of Franklin that changed Carrie’s life forever that there is no room to include it in this post.

So I will start with a brief nutshell of the circumstances. At the time of the Battle of Franklin, November 30, 1864, Carrie’s children were nine (Hattie) and seven (Winder). Carrie herself was thirty-five, her husband, John McGavock, fourteen years her senior at forty-nine.  They had been married several years, Carrie coming from Louisiana to marry John, who was quite a wealthy man for the times, worth over six million dollars in our present day currency. He owned the flourishing plantation, Carnton,  in middle Tennessee, where he and his brother James had been raised,. The McGavocks raised wheat, hay, corn, and potatoes, as well as maintaining a thoroughbred horse ranch.

Carnton, (Scottish for “the place of stones”) was less than one mile from the battle that took place on the far Union Eastern flank. Most of the battle took place after dark, from 5-9p.m., so the McGavocks could see the firefight that went on over the town of Franklin that evening. Because their plantation was so close, it became a field hospital for the Confederate troops.

More than 1,750 Confederates lost their lives at Franklin. It was on Carnton’s back porch that four Confederate generals’ bodies—Patrick Cleburne, John Adams, Otho F. Strahl and Hiram B. Granbury—were laid out for a few hours after the Battle of Franklin.

More than 6,000 soldiers were wounded and another 1,000 were missing. After the battle, many Franklin-area homes were converted into temporary field hospitals,  but Carnton by far was the largest hospital site. Hundreds of Confederate wounded and dying were tended by Carrie McGavock and the family after the battle. Some estimates say that as many as 300 Confederate soldiers were cared for by the McGavocks inside Carnton alone. Hundreds more were moved to the slave quarters, the outbuildings, even the smokehouse—and when the buildings were full, the  wounded had to lie outside during the frigid nights, when the temperature reached below zero.

After the battle, at 1 a.m. on December 1, Union forces under Maj. Gen. John M. Schofield, evacuated toward Nashville, leaving all the dead, including (several hundred) Union soldiers, and the wounded who were unable to walk, as well. So when morning came, the 750 or so residents of Franklin faced an unimaginable scene of what to do with over 2,500 dead soldiers, most of those being 1,750 Confederates.

According to George Cowan’s “History of McGavock Confederate Cemetery,” “All of the Confederate dead were buried as nearly as possible by states, close to where they fell, and wooden headboards were placed at each grave with the name, company and regiment painted or written on them.”  Many of the soldiers were originally buried on property belonging to Fountain Branch Carter and James McNutt. Many of the Union soldiers were re-interred in 1865 at the Stones River National Cemetery in Murfreesboro.

Over the next eighteen months (from all of 1865 through the first half of 1866) many of the markers were either rotting or used for firewood, and the writing on the boards was disappearing. Thus, to preserve the graves, John and Carrie McGavock donated 2 acres of their property to be designated as an area for the Confederate dead to be re-interred. The citizens of Franklin raised the funding and the soldiers were exhumed and re-interred in the McGavock Confederate Cemetery for the sum of $5.00 per soldier.

A team of individuals led by George Cuppett took responsibility for the reburial operation in the spring of 1866. By June, some ten weeks after the start, the last Confederate soldier was laid to rest at McGavock Cemetery. Some 1,481 Rebel soldiers would now be at peace. Soldiers from every Southern state in the Confederacy, except Virginia, is represented in the cemetery.

Sadly, George Cuppett’s brother, Marcellus, died during the process of the reburials. Just 25 years old, he is buried at the head of the Texas section in the McGavock Cemetery. He is the only civilian interred there.

The McGavocks, especially Carrie, took great care to preserve the identity of the Confederate soldiers. The original names and identities of the soldiers were recorded in a cemetery record book by George Cuppett, and the book fell into the watchful hands of Carrie after the battle. The original book is on display upstairs in Carnton. Time has not been favorable to the identities of the Confederate soldiers though. 780 Confederate soldiers’ identities are positively identified, leaving some 558 as officially listed as unknown.

Most of the above was taken from the Wikipedia article about Carnton and the McGavocks.  Now you know the FACTS, but let me tell you about my impression of this remarkable woman and the cause she put above all else.

Robert Hicks’s book, THE WIDOW OF THE SOUTH, is a fictionalized story about Carrie and John McGavock and their lives, but that was what made me want to travel to Franklin and see the house for myself. I put the description that Wikipedia gave near the beginning because I can’t begin to do it justice. It is one of the most gorgeous, meticulously restored homes of that period you will ever see. They do not allow pictures AT ALL as you’re touring inside. Many of the pieces of furniture, glassware and the pictures that are on the walls have been donated by the McGavock extended family and most everything in the house is a genuine period piece, whether it belonged to the family or not.

It is said that Winder’s room was used as an operating room. A table was set up by the east-facing window where the surgeries were performed. Today, there is a table there much like what would have been used, along with the crude medical implements that were available at the time. Our guide told us that when the doctor finished an amputation, he would throw the limb out the window, get the man off the table and make room for the next one. Because the doctor most likely wore a rubberized apron, the blood pooled in a kind of horseshoe shape on the floor where he would have stood. He walked in it and stood in it, grinding it into the wood. It is still there, to this very day—a testament to five of the bloodiest hours in the history of the Civil War.

Once, Hattie was asked about her most enduring childhood memory. “The smell of blood,” she replied.

In the book, there is mention made of Carrie’s friend, Mariah, who had once been her slave but chose to stay with her as they had been together since childhood. Mariah was said to have had the ability to look at some of the graves and tell something about the person who was buried there. She had “the sight.”

For the next forty years, after the Battle of Franklin, Carrie dressed in black, visiting the graves every day. She carried the book of names with her. I have to tell you, when I saw that book of names I got chills thinking of the devotion she had to this cause. Those men were not forgotten.

At one point, the house fell into disrepair, but was bought by a historical preservation society and maintained. The cemetery was the largest privately owned war cemetery in the US. Robert Hicks meticulously researched for the book he wrote, and the profits from the book (which made it to the NYT Bestseller List) helped to re-establish this grand old home as a piece of history where we can go to learn firsthand about what happened on that fateful day.

My husband and I toured the house, a gorgeous old mansion, with a wonderful guide  who was glad to answer any and all questions. Tours are around $15, and well worth it. The cemetery tour is $5, or you can just walk around and look for yourself, which is what my husband and I did. If you buy the book, I promise you will be as anxious to see this place for yourself as I was.

Walking those same floors that were walked upon by Carrie and her family, and the wounded men, the generals, the doctors…gave me feeling I will never forget. I could almost swear I felt her presence, still there, still watching over the soldiers she devoted her adult life to at Carnton…the “place of stones.”

(This is a picture of Carrie as a young woman.)

 

 

Have you ever read a book that made this kind of impression on you? A book that, just from reading about a place, made you want to go there and see it more than anything else? What was it? I’d love to hear about the places you’ve gone after you read about them and just KNEW you had to see them for yourself! Be sure to leave a comment–I’ll be giving some lucky winner their choice of any of my books or short stories! (Digital, USA only.) Thanks so much for joining me today!

Lynne Lanning Has Winners!

Thank you for coming to visit us, Miss Lynne! We sure did enjoy having you and hope you come back soon.

Now for the Drawing…….

Two commenters will win a copy of A Kindness For Christmas!

And the winners are………

JCP

RHONDA P.

Congratulations, ladies! We’re dancing a jig. Now watch for Miss Lynne’s email.

 

A Glimpse of Christmas…in the West

 

I know, I know, it’s too early to be talking about Christmas!

When I walk into a store before the end of September and see Christmas Tree displays and everything that glitters with it, I cringe. I like to take each holiday one at a time and give each one its fair celebration. Okay, maybe that’s just me…

But this time, I am guilty of rushing it, and I will explain why in a minute. First, I would like to take a look back in time to catch a glimpse of Christmas past.

During my research, I found that Christmas was celebrated in so many different ways across the country, depending on who lived in the area, and what they could find to celebrate with. The East was more settled and refined than the West, had more stores to buy ready made goods, and people lived closer together, allowing for bigger, elaborate celebrations. But out West, things were different.

Across the West, there was a mix of cultures, each bringing with them the different ways of celebrating from their homelands. And, depending on the area in which they lived, some would even use a branch or a bush instead of the traditional Christmas tree, because trees were scarce and would serve a much better purpose as a fence post or some other essential. They used what they had and made the best of it. Gifts were handmade: gloves, scarves, socks, small carved wooden toys, jars of coveted preserves, and many other thoughtful, heartfelt gifts.

But the most interesting thing I found in my research was the similarities.

  1. Everyone celebrated the true meaning of Christmas, attending a special church service on either Christmas Eve or Day, whenever possible.
  2. They all took a special interest in the well-being of everyone in the community, doing special things for their neighbors, especially those in need.
  3. Children were especially excited and usually hung a sock with hopes of finding a special treat Christmas morning.
  4. The main event was always gatherings with lots of food that had been prepared for days ahead of time.

Hmm, not so different from our Christmas celebrations today; a time of fun, food, and fellowship with our friends and families. Cowboys, far away from their families, spent the holiday with their adopted family of friends, new people in the community were shown kindness and acceptance, and people with no family nearby were taken into neighbors’ homes for the holiday festivities.

Now let’s check on our couples in love…

Oh my, such a sweet time going back and forth between the two families, and always searching for a moment alone. Weeks were spent trying to find or make the perfect gift for their sweetheart, and with so much romance in the air during this cheerful season, there were lots of proposals and weddings.

This brings me to the reason I am writing about Christmas so early. There was a New Release on October 13th that you won’t want to miss. 22 authors put together a Christmas anthology filled with Romance. I’m sure you will recognize some of the authors, and you may find a new favorite! Every story tells of Christmas miracles, traditions, and of course…romance.

 

22 Fabulous Short Romances, all in one beautiful book, for only $5.99! That’s only 27c per story! How can it get any better than that?!?!

https://www.amazon.com/Vintage-Christmas-Remember-Heartwarming-Historical-ebook/dp/B0HJP49VMG?tag=pettpist-20

And take a look at this flip book for info on every author in the anthology:

https://heyzine.com/flip-book/a9ced69f59.html

 

Now, who is interested in winning one of two e-copies of my personal favorite book, that just so happens to be about Christmas? Two winners of A Kindness for Christmas.

 

Answer any or all of the choices below:
Tell me some of the Christmas traditions in your family. What were some of your favorite traditions as a child? Do you make Christmas presents? When do you start getting prepared for Christmas?

I would be honored for you to follow me on Substack – (You don’t even have to make your own account on Substack to follow or get my newsletter) Just click and you’re done!

https://llanning.substack.com/

 

 

 

A New Release-The Hearts Most Wanted-And a giveaway

Book #2 of the Rocky Mountain Marshals Series is finally released.

The Hearts Most Wanted

I can’t remember ever having a horse on one of my covers before. Surely I have.

But I love it!

A desperate search through wild land for lost friends in terrible danger.

A ghostly presence ‘haunting’ the searchers.

And of course, True Love.

The Hearts Most Wanted

Released now

When a mysterious threat follows their every step, can two wounded hearts find refuge and love?

US Marshal Morgan Sawyer rides into the treacherous Rocky Mountains on a mission to find fellow Marshal Tex, who vanished while they were escorting a dangerous prisoner. But ranchwoman Roz Beck insists on riding beside him, despite Morgan’s protests. Joined by newlyweds Owen and Delaney, and Roz’s young son, they push deep into the wilderness.

Widowed Roz was wounded in love when her now-deceased husband abandoned her, leaving her alone to raise a child. While her heart longs for love, for her son’s sake, she’ll settle for a man she trusts like Morgan, her childhood friend. When a shadowy figure begins prowling the search party’s camp at night, the group realizes that something more than the wilderness poses a threat to their quest of bringing Tex to safety. Will the looming danger strengthen Morgan and Roz’s growing feelings and faith in each other, or will it be their breaking point?

With outlaws, a rugged hero, and a spirited heroine, Mary Connealy presents another action-packed Old West historical romance. For fans of second chance romance, frontier journeys, and hijinks in the Colorado wilderness.

Leave a comment to get your name in a drawing for a signed copy of The Hearts Most Wanted.

I think we talked about what we love about autumn last time. Now tell me what you’re going to miss most as cool weather approaches.

Karen Kay has a winner!

Howdy!

First I’d like to thank you all for coming to the blog yesterday!  And yes, we have a winner for the e-book of SOARING EAGLE’S EMBRACE.  And, the winner is:

Kim Hampton

Congratulations, Kim!  Sure hope you’ll enjoy the read!

 

Angel & the Badman

I love a good western film. TV westerns shaped my childhood and instilled a love of the old west in me that grew into a writing career. So when I saw that Angel Studios was creating a remake of the classic John Wayne movie, Angel and the Badman, I knew I’d be hitting the theaters.

First, though, I needed to do a little prep work. You see, I had never seen the original John wayne movie from 1947, and I felt that I needed to rectify that oversight before I could watch the remake. So two weeks ago, while I was away at a conference in Phoenix, I loaded up John Wayne and watched him fall in love with a young Quaker woman who softened his heart and led him on a path of redemption.

Then, this past Friday, I grabbed my daughter (so glad she’s back in Abilene and available to be my movie buddy!) and we went to see the new version starring Zachary Levi.

I really enjoyed the new version! They followed the original pretty closely, though they made a few key changes that I appreciated. I’ll try not to reveal too many plot points that could be spoilers. Two character aspects that I think were an improvement over the original were:

  1. A clearer understanding of Quirt’s background and current conflict. When I watched the original movie, I had a hard time understanding why Laredo was after Quirt. It was clear bad blood existed between the two, but I didn’t understand the urgency. In the new version, it’s clear that Quirt stole from Laredo and the outlaw was after his gold. There was also a sweet scene in the new movie between Quirt and Penny’s little brother Johnny that revealed the abusive background Quirt had come from. This was heightened by Penny’s discovering the scars on Quirt’s back when she banadaged his opened wound.
    .
  2. Less insta-love. In the John Wayne version, Penny was practically throwing herself at Quirt from moment he regained his senses. In the new version, Penny, while attracted to Quirt, shows more restraint and gives the relationship a little more time to develop naturally.

Some other differences include a grandmother instead of a father in the Worth household. And this grandmother was a hoot. You definitely saw where Penny got her spunk! There was lots of humor to enjoy as well, which I loved. There were  several times Bethany and I laughed out loud in the theater. In fact, if you go to see it, stay through the first part of the credits. There is a hysterical “stick up” that happens that you won’t want to miss.

There were strong Christian themes of hospitality, forgiveness, prayer, and redemption woven throughout.

My one disappointment was that ending was rather abrupt. I would have enjoyed a bit of an epilogue experience after the conclusion of the big fight scene. Overall, though, I would gladly recommend it. It was fun seeing Tommy Lee Jones (at 80!) playing the marshal.

What is one of your favorite western movies?

The Legend of the Star Bride

Howdy!  And a Happy Tuesday to you!

Well, as if I didn’t have enough to do, I’ve taken some time to re-edit the story of The Legend of the Star Bride.  It is the legend that inspired the book, SOARING EAGLE’S EMBRACE.  There were several versions of this legend that I read and, though many were very similar from tribe to tribe, I picked the legend that I thought suited a more romantic heart and added a bit of my own story to the legend.  So the book is freshly edited and it has a new cover and…Dah…ta…Dah…(that’s supposed to be trumpets playing) soon it will be out in paperback and it will be the first time it will be released in paperback since it was first published, years and years ago, I think it was around 2003 or 2004, over twenty years now.

I’ll share the cover for you and I’ll share that legend I used as a backdrop/inspiration to the story.

Now, just so you know, I’ve always called this book “my musical.”  As a child, I watched the movie, Naughty Marietta, and I was particularly taken by Jeaanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.  So the two of them inspired the two main characters in my story, SOARING EAGLE’S EMBRACE.

I love this cover.  And here’s a link to the book:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074LWHB7W?tag=pettpist-20

So let’s start off with the new blurb for the book:

 

AI-FREE! 100% organic author-created content. No artificial intelligence was used in the writing of this book.

The Legendary Warriors, Book 3

Written in the stars…

Kally Wallace has no room in her busy life for marriage. Instead, she is following her father into a photography career, striving to capture the beauty of the Wild West and its vanishing Indian cultures before they both disappear forever. Montana’s Blackfeet country is everything she could have dreamed—and more. At night a handsome man gently invades her sleep. Their nightly encounters become more and more real until one bright morning, she is startled to find everything has changed.

Lawyer by profession, Blackfeet by blood, Clay Soaring Eagle is determined to do everything in his power—legally and spiritually—to save his people’s way of life. He trusts no one of the white race, and hopes that once Kally’s task is done, she will leave and take temptation with her.

The spirits have their own plan. As their passion burns with a brightness that rivals the stars, Clay and Kally are aware that it can never last…unless they find a way to make their two worlds come together as one.

Perfect for those who love::
** Sensuous Romance
** Soul-stirring dreams and passionate unions
** A mountain-top quest
** Happy ever after.

And now for an excerpt:

Soaring Eagle’s Embrace

By

Karen Kay

 

“This is the legend of…Star Bride. It is said that it happened in dog days, those days before horse was known to my people,” narrated Gilda. “Ah, but it was a glorious time. It was a peaceful time, too; a time when my people lived close to the land, when stars were gods and goddesses who listened to the pleas of my people.

“Now, it happened that at this time there was a young Blackfeet man…him handsome and pure in spirit. His name was Strong Arrow, and he was looking for a wife. But his would not be easy task.

“It true that there were many young women who would have gladly taken Strong Arrow as husband, for it was well known that him wise, generous and skilled in hunt. But Strong Arrow have big flaw: him believe himself to be perfect, no faults. Worse, him convinced him could give heart to no one except she who also be perfect…”

“My son,” said Strong Arrow’s mother. “I fear that you will be disappointed as you go through life, if you cannot find it in your heart to understand the imperfection of those around you.”

“I understand them well enough, my mother,” said Strong Arrow.

But Strong Arrow’s mother was wise and she said, “Heed my words, my son, for in order to be happy, you must learn that in all the world, there is not one single, faultless human being.”

“Ah, my mother,” responded Strong Arrow. “I know you speak with concern in your heart. But surely you can see that your words are not true. Look at me. Do I not obey the commands of my tribe? Do I not bring home much food? Do I not give freely to others all I have? Do I not live an exemplary life? My mother, can you honestly tell me that I am not and have not been a perfect son?”

Strong Arrow’s mother, Shining Woman, did not know what to say to this, knowing that to dispute with her son would only make his resolve all the stronger. Yet she feared that if Strong Arrow could not allow for weaknesses in others, he would never come to appreciate the intrinsic beauty which was held in another’s soul.

And so it was that Strong Arrow became more and more steadfast in his belief of his own perfection, and he resolved he would only marry one as unblemished as he.

Now, it is said that he was true to his cause. He searched for such a being. He attended every dance, every social gathering given by his tribe.

However, as might be expected, he failed in his quest time and again. In truth, as time passed, he became quite despondent.

Now, Shining Woman, seeing her son’s unhappiness, at last begged Strong Arrow to beseech the Evening Star. After all, said she, was it not the Evening Star who was honored for her compassion, her understanding, her love? Perhaps the star might share some of her wisdom with Strong Arrow.

And so it was that upon one lazy summer evening, Strong Arrow climbed to the top of Nina Istukwi, Chief Mountain, and, sitting down, took out his sacred pipe. He smoked, letting the fragrance carry up into the sky so that she who was the Evening Star could sniff it and know he meant to speak with her. He looked up at her, she who shone so brightly in the silvery glow of a half-dark, half-bright sky.

It was then when it happened. Suddenly Strong Arrow’s heart began to beat so fast and so furiously, he felt as though he might have been chasing a foe. Yet he had not moved.

As he gazed up at the beautiful star, he realized he had, at last, found perfection. Truly, he had fallen in love. But alas, what a love. For he had picked as a soul mate no less than she who was the Evening Star.

Now as time marched on, many in the tribe, hearing of Strong Arrow’s unusual adoration, laughed at him. But Strong Arrow remained true to himself. And each night thereafter, he would return to sit alone upon the plain, there to give his devotion to his star.

Many times he would return to Chief Mountain, and when he did, feeling closer to her, he would talk to her, saying, “Oh, Evening Star, how I wish you were made of flesh and blood that I might take you in my arms and show you all the love I have for you here in my heart. I implore you, Evening Star, do you return my devotion?”

Often one could hear him singing:

“Ooooo, ooooo, how my heart beats for you.

Ooooo, ooooo.

Ooooo, ooooo, how my lips hunger for your touch.

Ooooo, ooooo.

For I love you. You, the Evening Star.”

But he waited in vain for an answer.

Now, it so happened that one day Strong Arrow came again to Chief Mountain. As he climbed up a slope, he heard a strange sound, an unusual music. Where was it coming from?

Gaining the crest of the mountain, he scoured the countryside around and below him, his sharp eyes assessing all he could see. But try as he might, he could not locate the source of it. Still, his spirits took flight. Had it been a song? And if it were a song, could it be she who was the Evening Star?

But as quickly as the music had begun, it stopped and he heard it no more. He waited all day, and the next and the next, climbing up to the mountain’s summit each evening, hoping to hear again the strange melody. But alas, it came no more.

Now, Strong Arrow was not a stupid man, and it took little effort on his part to devise a plan. The next day came and Strong Arrow hid himself behind some boulders. And there he waited, and he waited. In truth, so long did he pause there that he began to wonder if his tribesmen were right about him. Was he chasing a mere phantom?

However, this day his patience was rewarded, for soon—before the sun had reached its zenith—it happened again. On the wind came an alien yet beautiful refrain.

Where was the voice coming from? All across the wide mountain range, there was nothing but the winds which whispered across barren rock. Nothing to his right, to his left, behind him, in front of him.

Still, the music was becoming louder. Puzzled, he looked up, and there he espied the most uncommon sight he had ever seen. A bird, looking much like a large eagle, coasted down from the heavens. And upon its back was a very beautiful woman.

At the sight, Strong Arrow’s heart began to pound, faster and faster. It was then when he knew that it was she, the one who was his true love.

Soon, the maiden began to sing the unusual, eerie song, at first in words he didn’t understand, and then in the language of his people.

“Come out, come out, oh warrior mine.

For I know that you wait for me.

Come out, come out, take me for wife.

For I have heard your plea.

Come out, come out, my truest love,

come out and play with me.

Show yourself, my warrior true.

For I am the Evening Star.”

With these words, Strong Arrow stood up from his hiding place. The maiden turned to look at him, and they gazed upon one another. And so long did they stare that Strong Arrow feared she might run away.

At last, however, she smiled at him, saying, “Because you are a great hunter, my father, the Sun, has taken pity on you. He has heard your appeal. I, too, desire to marry you, for I have seen you here, night after night, alone upon the face of the earth. And as you fell in love with me, so too did I fall in love with you. Consequently, my father gives me to you in marriage freely, asking only that you take no other for a wife for the rest of your life.”

Strong Arrow said nothing to this, though he yearned to speak of much.

She continued, “My father, the Sun, knows this thing he asks of you transgresses upon the custom of your people, for within your tribe a man of standing might take more than one wife. But you must refrain from doing this. Do you promise?”

Still, so great was Evening Star’s beauty that Strong Arrow could not speak. In faith, it was all he could do to simply nod.

“You must understand further,” Evening Star said, “that my father does not give me to you easily. Know that if you ever betray this trust he places in you—if you should ever take another to your sleeping robes, my father would ensure a penalty.”

“I understand,” voiced Strong Arrow at last. “And what would this punishment be?”

“You would cease to exist upon this, the face of the earth. So it is said by my father, the Sun,” she said. “Know, too, that my father, the Sun, is a jealous man, and he might test the strength of your resolve. Do you still agree?”

Strong Arrow took a step toward her, his heart in his throat as he said, “Long have I admired and loved you, Evening Star. I will take you as my own. I will honor you. Aa, yes, I agree to your father’s demand.”

Evening Star smiled and extended her arms toward him. “Then come, my love,” she said. “Take my hand and lead me to your people.”

He did as she bid him, and they were married that night. Indeed, in the years that followed, it is said that they embodied the best which is known of love and marriage.

Many years passed. Because Evening Star was a goddess, the regular chores of a wife did not fall to her. Skins were dressed, food was made, wood was gathered without her expending any labor, so great was her magic. Evening Star was also a generous woman and gave freely to the people all they desired, and she became the most well-respected woman of the tribe.

However, all was well for so long that the people began to forget they, too, needed to work, hunt and repair clothing in order to survive. Alas, so easy was it to obtain the goods they needed from Evening Star, the men in the village lost interest in hunting, while the women depended upon the crafts of Evening Star to repair their moccasins and homes. Even the little boys in the village no longer played hunting games, while young girls mimicked the charms of Evening Star.

Truth be told, the people became lazy.

Now, perhaps all this might have had little consequence were it not for the fact that Old Man, the Sun, had yet to play out his full hand. Here is what happened.

Strong Arrow was out on the hunt. But on this day, Strong Arrow saw a most unusual sight. Into his path walked a beautiful maiden, one who openly flirted with him; one who begged him to take her home. But she pleaded in vain. After all, Strong Arrow believed himself to be perfect; he had given his word to his wife and to her father that he would take no other into their home. He would stand by his word.

And so he passed by the maiden. Looking back, Strong Arrow saw the girl vanished, and it was then when he knew the time had come for Old Man to test him.

The next day, again while Strong Arrow was out on the hunt, Old Man sent an even more beautiful woman into his path, this maiden also begging Strong Arrow to take her home. But Strong Arrow was as wise as he was virtuous. He passed this one by, too.

Then Old Man smiled. Indeed, his son-in-law was a faithful husband. Still, there would be one more trial.

The next day, Old Man sent again a beautiful maiden into Strong Arrow’s path. But this time there was a difference. This woman looked so much like Evening Star that Strong Arrow hesitated, confused.

Seeing this, the woman spoke, saying, “Take pity on me. For you are my own brother-in-law. My name is Bright Shadow. I, too, am a star, and like my sister, I desire a good husband.”

“I cannot take you as a wife,” Strong Arrow responded.

“And yet it is your right to have me.”

“No,” said Strong Arrow. “It is not. I gave up that right when I married your sister.”

“Yet,” said Bright Shadow, “I need your help. Do not ask how, but my own future depends on you. If you take me with you, I could aid you in becoming glorious in war.”

Strong Arrow sneered. “You waste your breath, woman,” he said. “For if it is my home which you seek, I cannot help you.”

“Could you not?” she asked. “Think well, my brother-in-law. If you do me this small favor, I could give you much. I could assist you to become the best hunter in your village.”

“I already am the best.” And so saying, Strong Arrow began to walk away from the woman.

“Please,” came again the maiden’s plea.

Strong Arrow glanced over his shoulder. “I do not need or desire glory, or another wife,” he called to her. “I love the one I have.”

Bright Shadow stared at Strong Arrow, and her eyes narrowed before she commented, “Then you make a mistake, my brother-in-law, for you will surely bring pain to my sister if you do not take me with you.”

This statement gave Strong Arrow reason to pause. Coming to a halt, he looked back at the maiden. “What falsehoods are these you now tell me?”

Bright Shadow took a step toward him. “I do not utter untruths. I am in trouble,” she said, her gaze at Strong Arrow full of appeal. “I am with child, and my father, the Sun, says that there is no room in the sky for another star, my baby. Alas, my father has sent me here upon this earth to bear this child alone. But I am frightened. All I wish to do is to see my sister, that she might care for me.”

Strong Arrow hesitated, and turning so he now faced the maiden, he looked deeply into Bright Shadow’s eyes. “If this is all you desire, why did you try to seduce me?”

Bright Shadow cast her eyes down. “Because I am afraid to be alone, and I thought this might be the only way to beseech you.”

Strong Arrow frowned, and it is said that he puzzled over what to do. Duty to a woman in Bright Shadow’s condition would not allow him to walk away from her; however, he also could not bow down to her pleas, for he knew well the consequences of his actions. What was he to do?

He hesitated but a moment before making his decision, and then, lifting his face up to the skies, he shouted, “Do you understand this, Old Man? Do you see that I am taking pity on your other daughter, who is with child? Know this: I do not take her to my home as a wife. I take her only to be with her sister.” And with this said, Strong Arrow grabbed hold of Bright Shadow.

Yes, his intentions were honorable, yet in doing what he did, Strong Arrow sealed his fate. For though he could not have made any other choice—not and remain perfect—with this decision came disaster. He never arrived home.

A thunderstorm came suddenly upon Strong Arrow and Bright Shadow, causing Strong Arrow to seek shelter. And though his intentions were decent toward his wife’s sister, a man is, after all, but a man…

Meanwhile, it took little enough time for Evening Star to discover her husband’s betrayal.

A tribe of visiting Crees, seeing the wealth and laziness of Strong Arrow’s people, defeated them in battle, taking Evening Star as their own. And doing so, the Crees fled.

Perhaps it was not Old Man’s doing what happened next. Some kind folks say that it was not. Others, however, tell a different story.

By some trick of fate, the victorious Crees, en route to their own home and bringing Evening Star with them, came upon Strong Arrow and his ward where the two of them had sought shelter. Strong Arrow had no choice but to fight the enemy, and fight he did, well and hard, for unlike the others in his village, Strong Arrow had never failed to take to the hunt each day, and his body was lean and fit. But the outcome was inevitable. There was only one of him against ten Cree warriors.

Seeing this, Evening Star was overcome with grief, as well as with conflict. On one hand, she cried out. For she realized, as she watched the combat, that her husband would die this night.

However, even as her heart broke, Evening Star knew jealousy. For there by Strong Arrow’s side lay her sister, plus the evidence of his treachery…

Still, as Evening Star beheld the enemy’s knife come down to stab into Strong Arrow’s heart, she knew she could not watch. She waved her hand, causing the mortals to freeze.

“What am I to do?” she pleaded toward the midnight sky, opening her arms wide. “Oh, Father, my husband and I were so happy. Why did you do this to us? For I know this is your work.”

But it was night.

“Your father is not here to hear your pleas, my daughter. He is on the other side of the world.” It was Old Woman who spoke, she who is Night Light, the Moon.

“Yes, Mother,” answered Evening Star. “In my grief, I forgot that he is gone. But please, what am I to do?”

Old Woman paused. “It is, indeed, bad that this has come to pass,” she said. “I fear your father forgets that men are but mortals. My daughter, what is it you would like me to do?”

“I…I am uncertain.”

“Do you love your husband?”

“I…yes, I did…once…”

“Perhaps you should understand how your father tested Strong Arrow to the utmost, for he tempted him greatly. Your sister looked exactly as you do, and your husband was bringing her back to camp, not to take her in marriage, but to bear her to you for help. She told him she is with child.”

“With child? Oh, Mother, if she is with child, she should have come to me directly instead of—”

“As I said, this was your father’s work. It was also your husband’s plan to bring her to you, not to bed her.”

Evening Star sighed. “That may be so. However, it is now clear he failed in this, too.”

“Yes, he did,” said Old Woman. “Perhaps your husband is not as perfect as he would like us to believe.”

“You are right, my mother. I was wrong to think he could be as pure as a star. Only we who are gods and goddesses are without flaw.”

“Are we?”

“Yes, of course we are. But Mother, this talk gets us nowhere. Though I might abhor what my husband has done, I do not wish to see this, the end of his existence. Alas, perhaps I have loved him too well. Is there nothing I can do? You can do?”

“There is nothing,” said Old Woman. “Only your father can change what is to take place.”

Evening Star sighed. “Then I will lose Strong Arrow forever.”

“Yes, although…”

“Although?”

“There is one enchantment which is within my power. It would save his life, but it is not without risk.”

“Risk means nothing to me.”

“Very well, my daughter, but first let me explain. While the charm would save him, it might doom you.”

“Me? I think not, Mother. Nothing can harm me. I am a star, and unlike these mortals, I am proof against anything.”

“As you say, my daughter. Still, the spell might yet come to be a test.”

“A test?” asked Evening Star. Now as we all know, a god or goddess can little resist a challenge, and so she uttered, “Tell me more, my mother.”

“The only way I can keep your father’s curse from taking its natural course is to have your husband trade places with you.”

“With me? I would become mortal?”

“I am afraid so, my daughter.”

But Evening Star was barely listening. She had paced toward Strong Arrow, reaching out a hand to touch the powerful line of his jaw. Bending, she whispered to him, “Why—why did you do it? How could you betray me when I have loved you so greatly?”

“My daughter, our time grows short.”

Evening Star stepped around the inert and silent figure of her husband and, casting him one last look, lifted her sight to the midnight sky. She asked, “Is it because of my belief in my own perfection that you are able to do this?”

“Yes, my child.”

“Then say no more, my mother. I will become mortal, if for no other reason than to prove I can do it. But how long must I remain this way?”

Old Woman cried, “There is but one place in the sky for the evening star, my daughter, and if I am to save him, your husband must take your place until…”

A long pause followed. “Yes?”

“…until a future time when you will both return to this same spot on Chief Mountain—the place where you first met.”

“This seems simple enough.”

“Have a care, my daughter, for it is required that you remain chaste in order to return. However, if you can do it, if you can remain innocent, you and your husband will be given another chance: you to understand him, he to beg forgiveness. If you both can do this, all will be well. If you cannot…” There came a drop of rain upon the earth. “Oh, that I could do more than this for you, my daughter.”

But Evening Star was unafraid. “Do not fret,” she said to her mother. “I will prove how easy this is. Go on, my mother. Go on and do it.”

Tears began to fall in earnest from the sky. And in Old Woman’s voice was nothing but grief as she said, “Understand, my child, that you will have no memory of this, nor will he.”

Evening Star thought for some moments, her mind turning over images of the warmth of her beautiful home; remembering again the love of her mother, her father, her sisters. To never see them again…

But upon this thought came another. Did she have so little faith in herself that she could not submit to a dare?

At last she said, “Do it, my mother. Bring him into the sky, but do it quickly.”

“Let me give you this last advice, my daughter, before I do as you request. Look to the land and to the mountains, for your heart’s desire. For it is in the mountains where the spirits reside. They will help you.”

“I will,” said Evening Star.

“Remember, too, your lover’s song; for you will know him by it, and he you.”

“I understand.”

And so it came to pass that Strong Arrow was taken into the evening sky, there to shine brightly upon the earth, while his own true love became doomed to an earthly life.

There are some who say that on a night such as this, when the moon shines so brightly in the sky, one can see Old Woman searching the mountains, looking for she who is her true daughter, listening for her song. But alas, it is also said that the true Evening Star must have failed the test of chastity, for in all this time, she has not returned.

Still, there are those who hope…

 

 

Soaring Eagle’s Embrace on sale now:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074LWHB7W?tag=pettpist-20

On sale now for $.99, but only for today and tomorrow.  Then it goes back to its regular price of $5.99.

I’ll be giving away a free e-book of this book today to one of our wonderful bloggers.  So come on in and leave a post.

 

Winnie’s Winners!

Thanks to everyone who stopped by to discuss treehouses with me and share their own memories – I loved reading each and every post.
I tossed all the names in my handy-dandy cyber hat and pulled out the following:

Carrie McCauley
Susan Fletcher
Congratulations! You’ve won a copy of one of the two-in-one anthologies I’m part of.  Just send me your mailing address and I’ll get your books on out to you.

Treehouses, Hideouts and Forts – Oh my!

Hello everyone, Winnie Griggs here.

When I was growing up, our “townie” classmates thought my family lived way out in the back of beyond. My siblings and I didn’t really mind, though—we turned the vacant, overgrown fields near our home into our own personal playgrounds. We built many a hideaway in those patches of untamed ground, creating little places we could claim for ourselves. They were, at various times, jungle huts, military forts, outlaw hideouts, and lookouts for pirate ships on the nearby bayou. Looking back, I think finding and making those spaces was probably as much fun as using them.

My little brother eventually did build a treehouse in our backyard. Whenever there was construction going on in the neighborhood, he and his friends would raid the scrap piles for wood and discarded nails. They spent many an hour straightening bent nalis and using them to nail the scraps together to have boards big enough to work with. And they used every nail they found, whether they needed it or not, That’s no doubt the reason it survived Hurricane Camille when it blew through. It was a simple affair, just some boards nailed to the tree for a ladder and a small, flat platform above. Nothing fancy, but then a child’s imagination doesn’t require much in the way of amenities.

There’s something appealing about having a spot that belongs to you, especially when you’re young and so much of your world is arranged by grown-ups. And if getting there involves climbing a tree, that adds a little adventure of its own.

Children have been finding ways to make those treetop retreats for quite a while.

In his 1914 book Shelters, Shacks, and Shanties, American author Daniel Carter Beard included a chapter on building “Tree-Top Houses.” He also shared accounts of treehouses already in use, including one built by boys in Lynn, Massachusetts. A truant officer suspected they were using it as a place to hide while playing hooky. Beard questioned that accusation and came to the boys’ defense, pointing to the ingenuity and hard work involved in building it.

I have to smile at that. A well-built hideaway apparently deserves a little credit, even when the grown-ups have questions about what goes on there! Beard also described a Brooklyn treehouse roomy enough for fifteen people and a California treehouse attached to a redwood, with a bridge spanning a rocky canyon to reach it. Those were certainly a step up from my brother’s backyard platform.

Treehouses have a place in classic adventure stories, too. The Swiss Family Robinson, first published in 1812, features a family who build a home among the branches after being shipwrecked. Their tree dwelling, known as Falconhurst in a familiar English version, offers shelter and a place to begin making a life together. It’s easy to see how such a story could set a young reader dreaming about a treetop home of their own.

And then there’s Tarzan. In Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Tarzan of the Apes, he builds a simple shelter of leaves and branches in a tree, using it to keep his treasures protected from the rain. Even a jungle adventurer needs somewhere to put his belongings!

These days, I enjoy watching the television show Treehouse Masters, and I’m often fascinated by the designs and what they manage to include in some of those grand treehouses. My little brother would hardly recognize them as relatives of his backyard platform! Some of them have more amenities than the house I’m living in today!

While looking into the subject, I also came across a few remarkable examples.

  • A contender for the oldest surviving treehouse stands at Pitchford Hall in Shropshire, England. First mentioned in records in 1692, it has an oak floor, decorative ceiling, and windows. The future Queen Victoria even watched a visiting pack of foxhounds from it when she visited as a young princess. That’s quite a history for a house in a tree!
  • An American giant, the Minister’s Tree House in Crossville, Tennessee, was widely described as the world’s largest. It stood about 100 feet tall and spread across seven trees. Sadly, it was destroyed by fire in October 2019, but its remarkable size deserves a mention.
  • The lowest treehouse is a record I wouldn’t have thought to look for. Guinness lists one in Okinawa, Japan, measuring 11 feet 9 inches below the base of its host tree. Apparently, a treehouse doesn’t always have to take you upward!

The treehouse in my upcoming Christmas story, The Wrong Christmas Match, is a much humbler affair. But it’s important to the people who use it.

Set in Tucker’s Gap, Texas, in 1890, the story features nine-year-old twins Peter and Paul, who have decided their new schoolteacher needs a husband. Their treehouse provides a handy headquarters for working out their matchmaking plans. Whether the adults involved will appreciate those plans is another matter entirely.

But the treehouse also holds memories for their uncle, Gabe Waggoner. He built it with his own father when he was a boy. After the twins lost their father, Gabe had them help him refurbish it for their use, giving them something else to focus on as they worked together.

I liked the idea of Gabe sharing that piece of his childhood with his nephews. He couldn’t take away their loss, but he could spend time with them and help them make a place of their own. Something he’d built with his father could now become part of the boys’ childhood, too.

Of course, Gabe might have had a few second thoughts if he’d known what those two would get up to once their headquarters was ready. A carpenter can repair a treehouse, but keeping a pair of determined young matchmakers out of trouble is a different sort of challenge!

What about you? Did you have a treehouse growing up, or another special hideaway you shared with siblings or friends? Or did a book like The Swiss Family Robinson leave you wishing for one? I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a signed book.

And before I go, a little reminder: The Wrong Christmas Match is included in A Vintage Christmas to Remember anthology, which releases tomorrow. The special preorder price goes up once it releases, so if you’re planning to get a copy, today is a good time to order it!


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