On the Trail of the Truth (The Journals of Corrie Belle Hollister Book #3)

Michael Phillips

Description

Now that her siblings are provided for, Corrie convinces a newspaperman to take a chance on her as a journalist. Soon, she is on her own in the rough and tumble towns of the California gold fields. In her quest for the next human-interest story, Corrie uncovers a dangerous conspiracy. The truth beckons to her, but is it worth the risk?

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 février 2017
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441230775
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 1991 by Michael Phillips
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016948686
ISBN 978-1-4412-3077-5
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Dedication
To Gregory Erich Phillips

Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Central California 1860
1. Reflections
2. Rice, Bouquets, and Garters
3. A Glimpse Ahead
4. Possibilities
5. Adjustments
6. Winter 1854–55
7. Learning to Let Go and Trust God
8. The Blizzard
9. A Rash Decision
10. The Article
11. How It Got Published
12. Summer of ’55
13. Learning to Believe in Myself . . . and Write
14. I Write to Mr. Kemble
15. A Sermon About Truth
16. A Talk About Growth
17. A Walk in the Woods
18. New Times Come to Miracle Springs
19. The Candidate
20. The Two Campaigns
21. Almeda Surprises Everybody!
22. The Campaign Gets Started
23. I Surprise Myself!
24. Face to Face With Mr. Kemble
25. A Familiar Face
26. What to Do?
27. The Campaign Heats Up
28. I Try My Hand at Something New
29. I Get Angry
30. Mr. Kemble’s Reply
31. “How Bad Do You Want It?”
32. My Decision and What Came of It
33. To Mariposa
34. Hearing About Jessie
35. Mr. Kemble Once More
36. Last Night Alone on the Trail
37. Home Again
38. Threats
39. Meeting of the Committee
40. A Surprise Letter
41. Sacramento
42. Sonora
43. The Lucky Sluice
44. Derrick Gregory
45. I Find Out More Than I Ought To
46. An Unexpected Reunion
47. Discovery and Betrayal
48. A Risky Plan
49. Escape
50. Mariposa Again
51. Showdown
52. Countdown to November
About the Author
Books by Michael Phillips
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Back Cover

Chapter 1 Reflections

I remember the last time I was here listening to Miss Stansberry play the wedding march on the church piano. Two months ago, back in June, I was sitting down in the front row waiting for what I thought was going to be my pa’s wedding to Katie Morgan.
But that wedding never happened. Uncle Nick crashed in, shouting that Katie should marry him, not my pa, and to my amazement, Pa agreed. I was filled with a lot of feelings that seemed to be fighting inside my head. I wanted Pa to be happy, but down inside I just didn’t feel right about him and Katie. Right from the beginning they somehow didn’t seem like the kind of man and woman that were meant to be together. Not married, at least. Not when I thought of Ma. An hour later, I was there again—only this time sitting next to Pa, watching Katie becoming Mrs. Nicholas Belle. Instead of marrying Pa, Katie had ended up married to Uncle Nick.
So this day in the second week of August 1854, I felt a heap different than I had the last time I heard the wedding march. No seventeen-year-old girl could have been happier than I was standing up there in front of the church alongside Mrs. Parrish. Uncle Nick stood on the other side next to Pa, with Rev. Rutledge in between. It was the perfect ending to the last eight or nine months, since that day toward the end of last year when Pa announced to us kids that he was planning to get married again. For weeks—ever since Nick and Katie’s wedding, ever since I saw Pa and Mrs. Parrish walking quietly away from the church after Uncle Nick had busted in—I’d been so happy and distracted, I hadn’t been able to think straight. And on the big day, even standing there in front of the church, I couldn’t keep my mind focused on what was going on. All of a sudden I realized the music had stopped and Rev. Rutledge was talking and telling folks about what the wedding vows were supposed to mean. By the time I started listening in earnest, he was already getting on with the business of what we were all doing here! As he said the words, my brain was racing, remembering so many things. I had to stand there, straight and quiet next to Mrs. Parrish, smiling and acting calm. But inside I was anything but calm.
“Do you, Drummond . . .”
When I thought back to the first day I heard that name, and how Pa and Mrs. Parrish squared off on the street in front of the Gold Nugget, I just wanted to laugh. He was Mr. Drum then. None of us knew who he was or what was to come from that day. He and Mrs. Parrish sure didn’t like each other much at first!
“So, Mr. Drum, what might be your intentions now?” I could still hear her stern voice, her glaring eyes bearing down on Pa’s bewildered face.
And he roared back, “I reckon it ain’t none of your dad-blamed business!”
Mrs. Parrish said she aimed to make us kids her business and told him he ought to be ashamed of himself. Pa said he had no intention of having a woman tell him what to do, and then he rode off through the middle of town.
What a beginning that had been! Who’d have ever figured it would come to this?
“Take this woman to be your wedded wife . . .”
Wife . . . his wife ! My first thought was of Ma. But instead of showing sadness or regret or sorrow when her face came into my memory, she was smiling. I knew she understood and was watching with pleasure, glad that the Lord had sent such a good woman to this man and his kids.
At first Pa was looking mostly at Rev. Rutledge, but now he glanced over toward me and Mrs. Parrish. He wasn’t looking at me but her, and he looked right into her eyes. I couldn’t see her face looking back at him, but from the look of love in Pa’s eyes, I didn’t see how he could possibly concentrate on what the minister was saying. Pa’s eyes were so full it must have taken all his concentration just to fill them with that look. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a look in his eyes before.
I couldn’t help remembering the meeting of their eyes on that day he and Katie were supposed to be married, after Uncle Nick had run in and the uproar had started. Pa had a sheepish, embarrassed look on his face as he stood next to where Mrs. Parrish was sitting, and she looked back at him sort of half-crying.
That memory sent me back further, to a day when Pa and I were talking in the barn. He told me that when he looked into Katie’s eyes, it just wasn’t the same as it used to be with Ma.
Now as I saw Pa and Mrs. Parrish looking at each other, everything seemed to be coming right after a long time of wondering how it would all turn out. No one would ever replace Ma, but you could sure tell there was something pretty special for both Pa and Mrs. Parrish.
“ . . . to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health . . .”
During the last few weeks, getting ready for the wedding, I often found myself wondering when Pa actually started thinking differently about Mrs. Parrish. I thought back to that day of the first church service in Miracle Springs, when there wasn’t even a church yet, when he stuck up for the minister. I wondered if he had done that for her, maybe without even knowing it himself. Or that first Christmas dinner at Mrs. Parrish’s house, when Pa got mad and we all left early. I wondered if they really liked each other back then, if some of their arguments were just to cover up feelings that might have been sneaking up on them from behind. I guess that’s something I’ll never know!
“ . . . to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God’s holy ordinance?”
I asked Pa about three weeks before the wedding, “When did you first notice Mrs. Parrish?” He looked at me as if to say What are you talking about, girl? But he knew well enough what I was driving at. “When did you look at her different than just another woman, Pa? You know what I mean.”
He kept eyeing me, serious as could be, then a little grin broke out on his lips. Once he got to talking about it, I think he enjoyed the memories. We talked about the meetings for the school committee, and he sheepishly admitted that we had gone early a couple of times so he’d be able to see Mrs. Parrish before the minister got there, just like I figured. “And you got all cleaned up and shaved and smelling good too, didn’t you, Pa?” I asked. “And that was on account of her, wasn’t it?”
“I reckon,” he answered. “But don’t tell no one.”
“Everyone knows by now, Pa,” I laughed. “There ain’t nothing more to hide!”
He blustered a bit after I said that, but in a little while he started talking again, and this time it was about Katie. He said almost the minute she got to California, he realized he’d made a mistake, but he didn’t know what to do about fixing it.
“Why didn’t you just call the whole thing off?” I asked.
He said he could see it all perfectly clear now and couldn’t imagine he could have been such a fool, thinking it might work if he just went ahead and didn’t say anything. “But by then, Corrie,” he said, “my head was so blamed full of that Parrish woman I couldn’t even think straight. I was so muddled I pretty near got myself hitched to the wrong woman, just like Nick said. I was just a downright nincompoop ’bout the whole thing!”
“It’s a good thing Uncle Nick came when he did,” I said.
“Tarnation, you’re right there, girl! Yes, sir, Nick saved my hide but good! And that more’n made up for all the times I hauled him outta his share of the scrapes we got ourselves into. Yep, I figure we’re about even now.”
It was quiet for a minute, then I asked Pa, “How come you wrote off for Katie in the first place, Pa?”
Pa thought a minute, scratched his head, and finally said, “I don’t know, Corrie . .