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A Promised Land

By Kimberly Grist

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CHAPTER 1

~o0o~

“And he hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, even a land that floweth with milk and honey.”
Deuteronomy 26:9

The afternoon sun peeked above two partially covered windows, casting light and warmth into the one-room schoolhouse. Two schoolchildren stood in front of the black-painted wooden wall, which served as the chalkboard, awaiting the next spelling-bee word.
Twenty-year-old teacher, Meriwether Walker, glanced at the clock. “I’m afraid we are out of time, students. You’ve all improved so much this term. Congratulations on a job well done. I need to speak with Mark, but for everyone else, class dismissed.”
The children’s bare feet padded across the recently-oiled plank floor as they retrieved lunch pails, caps and outer garments from the cloakroom.
Nine-year-old Mark appeared at her desk. Rays of sunlight shone on his hair, highlighting warm golden strands. His brown eyes fringed by dark eyelashes overwhelmed his thin face.
Her mouth twitched. “Do you know what this is about?”
“Yes ma’am, I reckon I do. I shouldn’t have put the snake in Bertha’s lunch pail.” He shuffled his feet. “But it was just a plain ole garden snake that wouldn’t hurt nothing.”
“Thank goodness. Still, you scared Bertha. Not to mention you disrupted the class. What made you do such a thing? I thought you liked her.”
“She’s alright for a girl, I guess. The truth is I meant it for her brother, Bobby. Me and him always trade critters.” Mark rubbed his hands on his pants.
Meriwether rose from her desk and faced her pupil. “What do you suppose your father will say?”
His freckled face puckered. “I reckon he’ll tell me school ain’t the place to be trading critters.”
“I would agree.” She covered her mouth to conceal a smile. ”Do I have your word you will not bring another reptile, bug or other animal—living or dead—to school unless you receive specific instruction from me or any other teacher going forward?”
Mark’s head bobbed up and down. “Miss Walker, you are the best teacher in the state of Texas and I’m mighty grateful.” He cleared his throat and bowed his head. “Dear Holy Father in heaven, I am thankful to you for getting me through the hard times. Help me to be more responsible, and please bless Miss Walker who is more merciful than I deserve. Amen.”
The young boy lifted his head slightly and peered at her through his lashes. The precocious son of the local pastor, no doubt he’d been encouraged to pray about his impulsivity before. Whether he was sincere or not, only time would tell. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Her boots made soft taps as she swept the room where she’d taught thirty to forty schoolchildren of various ages each year for the past four. The potbellied stove stood in front of the blackboard. Twenty-one double desks sat in three rows. The whitewashed wall and the yellow calico curtains she’d made helped to provide a pleasant appearance.
She sighed and closed the door. Meriwether had grown to love her students and the town where she lived. The primary shortfall of her teaching career was having to board with families of her students on a rotation basis. Though living in the community allowed her to be close to the schoolhouse, some accommodations were better than others. She shivered as she recalled a recent stay where she was forced to sleep on the floor to avoid a community of bedbugs.
Meriwether hurried toward the center of town to meet with an attorney and get the final details on an unexpected inheritance from her mother’s uncle. She stilled her heart, then entered the law office.
“Afternoon, Miss Walker.” Edwin Davis gave a broad smile. “Please come in and take a seat.”
Meriwether grasped her reticule by its drawstrings and lowered herself onto a soft leather chair. The attorney placed his glasses on his nose and retrieved a file. An attractive man in his mid-fifties with dark hair streaked with silver, he was of moderate height and build. He wore tailored trousers and a sack coat buttoned only at the top possibly to show his vest and watch chain to their best advantage.
Mr. Davis tapped the paper with his pencil. “As you know your great uncle, Marcus Meriwether, was a man of wealth and prominence and named you in his will to be the recipient of his ranch. You and your mother spent quite a bit of time in residence there when you were a young girl, correct?”
“Yes, we visited every summer. I also lived with him and my aunt after my mother passed away. They moved back east when I was thirteen.” Meriwether stared into the distance. “I have fond memories of his home and the land surrounding it. My mother and uncle referred to it as a little piece of heaven.”
Mr. Davis studied the document, then removed his glasses. “Congratulations are in order then, because after you agree to the terms and sign a few documents, you will be the proud owner of a small piece of paradise just a short train ride west of our town.”
The attorney slid the document across his desk. “Your uncle’s additional properties were divided amongst other relatives, but it was his wish to leave the Texas farmhouse, the surrounding two-hundred acres, and a few other items which belonged to his mother, Mae Meriwether, to you.”
Her eyebrows narrowed as she read the document. “It says the estate is mine to do with as I wish.”
“Yes, although Mr. Meriwether does mention he would like you to pass it on to your family one day. His suggestion is for you to live there one year before making a decision about the property.”
Meriwether placed her hand on her stomach. “It’s as though I’m in a dream. I find it hard to believe I’m the beneficiary of such a gift. I can’t imagine ever wanting to sell it. My only concern is how will I be able to maintain the property?”
The attorney nodded. “Your uncle has been preparing for this day for quite some time. He employs a caretaker by the name of Thomas Baker, who lives about one-hundred yards from the farmhouse with his wife. In appreciation of their service, your uncle bequeathed their home and several acres to them. The Bakers manage everything and will live close enough to the farmhouse, should you need assistance.
“Currently, the land adjacent to the farmhouse is leased to a neighbor, Mr. Jake Harrison, who needed additional grazing areas and water for his cattle. The yearly income for the lease will be enough to allow you to live comfortably. If you choose to accept the inheritance, your uncle’s one stipulation was that if you decide to sell, it would be to Mr. Harrison at a price already agreed upon.” The attorney reached for another document.
Meriwether stared at the figure, which made her salary of twelve dollars a month seem minuscule. She gasped. “That’s an enormous amount of money.”
Mr. Davis nodded. “Yes, and I’ll be honest, Mr. Harrison fully expects you to take him up on the offer.”
She lifted her chin. “But I don’t want to sell.”

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