Saturday Snippet: We Might Read the Christmas Story

The following Snippet is from 

A Christmas Promise

    Annie hid the completed dress and called to the children.

    “’Bout time!” Samuel grumbled as he burst through the door. “Do we get our presents now?”

    “No, not until the mornin’, Samuel,” Annie responded in the calm manner she had cultivated over the years from dealing with her wayward husband and disruptive son. “You know that.”

    “Mrs. Clayton was a-sayin’ they open a gift on Christmas Eve,” Samuel countered. “Reckon we outta, too.”

    “That’s not how our family does it Sam. You know that. If we open our gifts tonight, there won’t be anything for Christmas morning.”

    “Figures,” Samuel snorted. “That’s mighty sorry, Ma.”

    “I’m sorry, Samuel, but that’s how it’s a-goin’ to be. I guess we might read the Christmas story from the New Testament,” Annie said in an attempt to steer her son away from his disappointment. “Reckon it’d be best, what with it being what Christmas is all about, not just a-gettin’ presents.”

    “But we like a-gettin’ presents, Ma,” Arletta piped up.

    “I know, Letta,” Annie remained calm, refusing to allow the frustration she felt worming its way through her insides to erupt in her voice or expression. But we need to remember that it’s because Jesus was born into this world to save us that we celebrate Christmas. And, if you both listen to just a smidgen of the story, I’ve a special treat I’ve saved for you all. But, you gotta wait until we’re done a-readin’. Come around the table, now, and I’ll get the lamp.”

    The three had no sooner settled in their chairs than they heard the sound of boots stomping on the back porch. A knocking on the outside door to the kitchen followed.

    “That Saint Nicholas, Ma?” Arletta asked, her voice full of wonder. Samuel snickered in response. Annie glanced over to Samuel with a warning frown.

    “Too early for him, Letta. Probably one of the hands a-needin’ something from Mr. Clayton. You two wait here while I see who it is.”

    Annie picked up the oil lamp that had been sitting in the middle of the table. She heard the knock again before she could get to the door that separated the kitchen from the partially covered porch that served as a mud room and winter laundry room.

    “Who’s there?” she called through the solid wood.

    “It’s Sgt. Jenkins, ma’am.”

 

 You may read the book description and find the purchase link for A Christmas Promise by CLICKING HERE.

Merry Christmas, 
and may the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ bring you
joy this holiday season.

Painting by Gerard van Honthorst

Saturday Snippet: She Refused to Allow Herself Any Hope

The following snippet is from

A Christmas Promise

      Annie knew that Sgt. Jenkins no longer felt he could support how the Army operated. He was ready to get out and go his own way.

     He had shared how he eventually wanted to get his own place where he could raise cattle and train horses. He had some money set aside, but, even with the Homestead Act, he feared he didn’t have enough yet. He hoped to work a few years for someone else’s brand.

     Annie had thought at the time that he was rather old to work as a cowboy or a wrangler. She figured he was at least ten years older than she was. But, although she had listened with interest, she had said nothing and had schooled her facial expression to show only polite interest. She had already learned the hard way not to assume. She had listened as a friend, but refused to allow herself any hope that his plans might include her.

    After all, she might only be twenty-eight, but Annie felt careworn and used up.

 

 You may read the book description and find the purchase link for A Christmas Promise by CLICKING HERE.

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A Christmas Promise Excerpt

If you have not yet purchased my short novelette, A Christmas Promise, here is a story summary:

A sergeant from Fort Laramie plans to muster out of the Army after twenty years in order to go into ranching--and start a family. A new widow, grateful to have work as a housekeeper, struggles to provide Christmas gifts for her two children. An eleven year-old boy, still fiercely loyal to the dead father who neglected him while alive, struggles to learn how to grow to be a man. A younger sister is starved for the attention and affection only a father can give. This heartwarming tale of a bleak Christmas set in 1873 Wyoming tells of the gift of second chances and a promise for a brighter future.

Links for purchasing the book for Kindle, Nook, or from Smashwords (offers a variety of formats) are on the left. Links to my Pinterest board for A Christmas Promise are on the right.

Still want to know more? Here is an excerpt from the book:

     “’Bout time!” Samuel grumbled as he burst through the door. “Do we get our presents now?”

     “No, not until the mornin’, Samuel,” Annie responded in the calm manner she had cultivated over the years from dealing with her wayward husband and disruptive son. “You know that.”

     “Mrs. Clayton was a-sayin’ they open a gift on Christmas Eve,” Samuel countered. “Reckon we outta, too.”

     “That’s not how our family does it Sam. You know that. If we open our gifts tonight, there won’t be anything for Christmas morning.”

     “Figures,” Samuel snorted. “That’s mighty sorry, Ma.”

     “I’m sorry, Samuel, but that’s how it’s a-goin’ to be. I guess we might read the Christmas story from the New Testament,” Annie said in an attempt to steer her son away from his disappointment.   “Reckon it’d be best, what with it being what Christmas is all about, not just a-gettin’ presents.”

     “But we like a-gettin’ presents, Ma,” Arletta piped up.

     “I know, Letta,” Annie remained calm, refusing to allow the frustration she felt worming its way through her insides to erupt in her voice or expression. But we need to remember that it’s because Jesus was born into this world to save us that we celebrate Christmas. And, if you both listen to just a smidgen of the story, I’ve a special treat I’ve saved for you all. But, you gotta wait until we’re done a-readin’. Come around the table, now, and I’ll get the lamp.”

     The three had no sooner settled in their chairs than they heard the sound of boots stomping on the back porch. A knocking on the outside door to the kitchen followed.

     “That Saint Nicholas, Ma?” Arletta asked, her voice full of wonder. Samuel snickered in response. Annie glanced over to Samuel with a warning frown.

     “Too early for him, Letta. Probably one of the hands a-needin’ something from Mr. Clayton. You two wait here while I see who it is.”

What family tradition regarding opening Christmas presents does your family practice?  Please leave a comment below.

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas this year with a new year full of promise.

 

Fort Laramie, Southern Midlands & Cain't

Today my research has been focused on ferreting out those small details I want to make my short story, "A Christmas Promise," believable. First, although I visited Fort Laramie last summer, I spent hours reading and perusing site maps to figure out where my character, Annie Murdock, may have lived when she was a laundress at the fort. Also, I found out where the non-commissioned officers lived.

The earlier 1867 map of the fort does not detail where either the married soldiers or the laundresses lived. The only structure across the footbridge was a hotel.

This map of the fort, made in 1888, 15 years after the setting of my story, shows the married men's quarters to be directly across the footbridge.

My character, Annie Murdock, was married to a soldier most of the time she was at the fort, so it would make sense that she lived in the area set aside for families of married soldiers. She might have been living in a tent or more temporary structure in the early 1870s, which is why it may not have shown on earlier the map.

Map from the Fort Laramie National Historic Archives

The map put together by the National Historical Archives shows laundress quarters across the footbridge, but does not indicate the time period. There was also another laundress location, now also in ruins, up next to the quarters for the non-commissioned officers and the sutler. However, since she was married with two children, I figure she would have lived in location 29 on this map.






My second area of details I worked on today was dialect. Annie and her late husband came from western Kentucky, the region where it was truly brother against brother during the time of the Civil War. Annie's late husband, Daniel Murdock, fought for the Union while her brother and father fought for the Confederacy. This was not the Appalachia region which has its own distinct dialect, a favorite of historical novelist. It falls into the Southern Midlands dialect group. What an adventure ferreting out exactly what speech patterns and words belong to that dialect!

When I wrote this story, deciding I just needed to write it and go back to check the dialect later, I incorporated a lot of words and speech patterns my husband uses. He was raised by family who came from the "old country" of western Arkansas and Northern Texas to California during the dust bowl era. One word he pronounces quite distinctively is "cain't." I used it in my story.

Well, folks, that word is coming out of my manuscript. From what I have been able to discover, "cain't" is a Southern word, not a Southern Midlands word. I'll save it for a story with redneck characters.