Coffin To Lie On

Read Coffin To Lie On Online

Authors: Fay Risner

Tags: #historical, #western, #wagon train, #historical 1880s, #indians in america

A Coffin To Lie
On

 

Fay Risner

 

Cover Art 2015

All Rights
Reserved

Author Fay Risner

 

Published by Fay Risner at
Smashwords.com

Copyright (c) 2015

All Rights Reserved

By Fay Risner

 

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to
Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to
the actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
or locals are entirely coincidental. Excerpts from this book cannot
be used without written permission from the author.

 

Booksbyfay Publisher

author, editor and publisher Fay
Risner

 

I entered this story in the Arkansas
Writer's Conference at Little Rock, Arkansas in 2007 as a short
story in the contest Westward Ho. A Coffin To Lie On was awarded
second honorable mention.

 

In Chapters nine and ten, this part
of the book was taken from a short story I entered in White County
Creative Writers, Searcy, Arkansas in 2005 with the title The
Lonesome Whippoorwill. The short story was awarded second place in
the Western Short Story category.

 

Fay Risner's books

Nurse Hal Among The Amish Series

 

A Promise Is A Promise Doubting
Thomas

The Rainbow’s End

Hal’s Worldly Temptations

As Her Name Is So Is Redbird

Emma’s Gossamer Dreams

The Courting Buggy

 

Amazing Gracie Historical Mystery
Series

 

Neighbor Watchers Poor Defenseless
Addie

Specious Nephew

The Country Seat Killer

The Chance Of A Sparrow

Moser Mansion Ghosts

Locked Rock, Iowa Hatchet Murders

 

Westerns

 

Stringbean Hooper Westerns Tread Lightly
Sibby

The Dark Wind Howls Over Mary The
Blue Bonnet
-
novella

Small Feet’s Many Moon Journey A Coffin To Lie
On-novella

Ella Mayfield's Pawpaw Militia-Civil
War

 

Fiction

Grandma Robot-novella

 

Christmas books

 

Christmas Traditions - An Amish Love
Story

Christmas With Hover Hill

Leona’s Christmas Bucket List

 

Children Books

 

Spooks In Claiborne Mansion

My Children Are More Precious Than
Gold

Mr. Quacker Listen To Me Honey

 

Nonfiction about Alzheimer’s
disease

 

Open A Window - Caregiver Handbook

Hello Alzheimer’s Goodbye Dad-author’s true
story

 

Cookbook

 

Midwest Favorite Lamb Recipes

 

Books published by Booksbyfay
Publisher

Romance

 

Sunset Til Sunrise On Buttercup Lane by Connie
Risner

 

Military-nonfiction-Vietnam War

 

Redcatcher MP by Mickey
Bright

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Miranda Tollifson sat
quietly as long as she could with her hands in her lap, watching
Swedish Hildur Landers do the work in her kitchen. The heavy set,
middle aged woman had been employed by Anselm, Miranda's husband,
to do the housework and cook for her. That was nearly ten years
ago.

Right now, Hildur was
cleaning up the kitchen for the last time that day. Anselm was
working on one of his carpenter projects in the barn. Miranda felt
bored. She was the only one doing nothing.

Finally, she got up and
left the room. When she returned from the parlor, she had her arms
full with her whale bone swift and skeins of brown wool yarn. She
attached the swift to the table and
spread
the swift out so the pegs were wide apart.

After she draped the yarn
skein over the pegs, Miranda rolled the yarn end into a ball. She
pulled on the yarn to loosen the string and kept rolling the ball
as the swift turned.

Hildur stopped drying
dishes to watch. “Dat iss easier dan making de Mister sit vit his
arms out, holding de yarn. Ja? My mister would not do it. Dat iss
vat I make my girl, Clara, do for me.”

Miranda laughed. “I know
what you mean. I think by now you've noticed Anselm isn't the sit
still type of husband. He won't help me. I had to resort to another
way that didn't include him.”

Hildur gave a jiggling
belly laugh. “Dat iss vat my Clara tells me, too. I should find
another vay. She does not much like helping me when I am winding
yarn. Vat are you going to do vit dat yarn?”

Miranda concentrated on
rolling the yarn evenly on the ball while she talked. “Knit some
warm socks for Anselm.”

Hildur shook her head in
approval. “Dat brown iss a good color for socks. Did you use walnut
hulls to stain de wool?”


Yes,
boiled walnut hull water works the best for me when I want a brown
stain,” Miranda said.


Ja, I
agree.” Hildur put the stack of supper plates away before she
asked? “Did you haf a good turn out for de meeting de other
night?”


Anselm seems to think he did. By the
way, thank you again for making
those good molasses cookies. Everyone liked them. Even Florence
Swensen said the cookies were tolerable. I think that's as close to
a compliment as she will ever get.”


Even dat
much from dat old vulture vas good. She dinks she iss a better cook
dan anyone else,” Hildur said with a grin.


Hildur,
you shouldn't call Florence names,” scolded Miranda
teasingly.


Dat iss
vat she reminds me of vit her long, beak like nose dat picks a body
to de bone. You take a look at dose long fingers of hers. Dey look
like vulture claws if I ever seen any,” Hildur
declared.


Very few women came to the meeting.
Brunnhilde Fjelde, Prudence Sorenson, Birgit Bjornson, Gretchen
Krebsbach and Florence. Those women pretty much stick together.
They weren't thrilled by the conversation.

Now the men, on the other
hand, were as excited as children at Christmas about going west to
homestead,” Miranda shared in a dispirited tone.


Dat homestead act may turn out to be pipe
dream for most folks. Men are always looking over de horizon for
something better or different. De government turning all dat free
land loose for de taking vas just enough to put de men's wonder
lust bones into motion. Dat free land iss not worth a hoot if de
land does not live up to what de government made it out to be. I am
glad my husband and me are too old for such nonsense as dis so I do
not haf to vorry about picking up stakes,” Hildur stated.


I
understand. It was clear the women at the meeting wanted to live
here until they died. This is their home. Too bad their husbands
don't see it the same way. Or, that the women aren't given a say in
the matter like Anselm did me,” Miranda surmised.

I think this year's
drought played a factor in this urge to move. The poor wheat and
corn crops means now farmers will not have enough
food supply for their animals for the winter. If
the farmers use their funds to buy feed for their animals, there
won't be money to buy seed grain to put in crops next
spring.”


Dat is
right,” Hildur agreed.
“My husband
vorries about dat, but he dinks ve vill make it through the winter
if we sell some of de cows.

Vat vit railroad freight
rates vat dey are and de poor economy in Minnesoota, de farmer does
not have any profit left if he gets a poor crop. My husband iss an
optimist. He says ve vill get by until times get
better.”

Miranda stopped rolling to
muse. “The war lasted too long. That's what put the economy in this
slump. Hildur, it makes me wonder what men were thinking when they
left their home and families for five years. They killed each other
and destroyed half our country.”

Hildur rolled her eyes.
“Dey were not tinking. Once dey started fighting, dey could not
stop. Makes little sense at all. Ya?

Now here iss all dis talk
about loading vat dey can carry on one of dose covered
wagons.
Which iss very little considering
vat dey accumulated over the years. They vill uproot their families
and take off for de wilderness. Dat does not make sense either.
Wouldn't you tink men learned their lesson vit de war?”


It's a lot clearer to us women than it is
to men. At the meeting, Clarence Swensen prodded the farmers to
head west. He did most of the talking as usual.

According to him, the men
should sell all their stock except their horses in Redwing. That's
only twenty five miles from here so it wouldn't take long to drive
the stock to town.

Buyers from southern states
are looking for horses and cattle to replace what they lost in the
war. They're paying good prices. The men plan to hang on to what
money they make from the stock sales until spring.

We'd book passage on a
paddle boat down the Mississippi River to the Missouri River and
get off at Independence, Missouri. There we'd hook up with a wagon
train.

We'd buy a wagon and
supplies when we got there. What we packed for the trip would be
unloaded from the boat and on to our wagon.” Miranda paused while
she collected her thoughts. “Clarence sounded like he knew what he
was talking about. At least, the men thought so.”

Hildur harrumphed in
disgust. “I haf known dat man to be wrong before. He might get all
of you in a terrible yam vit his big ideas. Does Mr. Swensen haf a
final destination point?”

Miranda nodded yes. “He's
heard talk about a place called Willamette Valley in Oregon. Seems
it lies smack dab in between three mountain ranges. The valley is
supposed to be very fertile. Clarence says the climate is warm but
a bit dry in the summer. Cool to chilly in the winter, but not
frigid like here. No head high snows such as Goodhue County,
Minnesota gets most winters.”

Hildur snorted softly.
“Willamette Valley is a place I vould haf to see to believe. It
sounds like a yoke someone has pulled on Mr. Swensen. It iss hard
to believe he fell for it. Weather like dat vould be too nice.”
Hildur frowned when she saw the worried expression on Miranda's
face. “Your mister really dinking on moving west?”

Miranda nodded. “Yes, I'm
afraid he is.”

Hildur shook her finger at
Miranda. “You better haf your mister check to make sure Clarence
Swensen has the right information about dat land.”

Miranda sighed deeply.
“You're right. I suppose Anselm thinks it would be all right to
live in Willamette Valley on Mr. Swensen's say so. I'll ask him to
do some checking on Oregon to make sure Mr. Swensen has the right
facts. I must admit Willamette Valley does sound like a good place
to live if the getting there didn't kill us off first.”


Dat iss
another thing! Ve hear all the tales about how awful hard travel
across the country iss. Are you sure a trip like dat iss going to
be such a good idea for you, Miranda, vit your health vat it
iss?”

Other books

Objects of Worship by Lalumiere, Claude
Kiss Me Deadly by Levey, Mahalia
Bloodrose by Andrea Cremer
A Striking Death by David Anderson
La Lengua de los Elfos by Luis González Baixauli
Two Spirits by Jory Strong
Us by Michael Kimball