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The Dew Series

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The Gilded Age saga of the tumultuous Crenshaw and Weldon families continues!

Unwed and pregnant, Thankful Crenshaw comes home and makes a tragic and life-changing decision. She misses the close relationship she once had with her newly religious brother, Buck, who spends his days in the Arizona desert converting drunks and Indians. One drunk, William Weldon, is Buck’s special case and Thankful’s true love.

Little does Thankful know that Buck’s religious fervor is fading. A violent encounter in the sandy wilderness brings her brother and William back to Englewood, New Jersey to mourn their lost innocence and lack of personal integrity in the third book of The Tenafly Road Series.

The Tenafly Road Series
“Characters so deep you follow them into the abyss, hoping to come out unscathed, but never returning the same. They will haunt me forever.”

The One My Heart Loves

A SNEAK PEEK: Second Thoughts …

Buck coughed. “Father, I don’t think—well—I believe Lucy wants no part of me any longer, and really … it’s so soon after Meg to be parading a girl on my arm.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s for the best. Everyone says so. Lucy wouldn’t fit in.” Buck cast his eyes down.

“Fit in?” Graham asked, incredulously. “With whom? Lucy fits in with me just fine.”

“Do you think so?” Buck asked, eager for approval. “I thought so too. I thought it might be nice to have someone to take care of and fuss over.”

Graham laughed. “Lucy’s not a doll, son.”

“Of course, Father. Why is it that everyone believes I’ve no sense about girls?”

Graham smiled but said nothing. The doctor sifted through gone-off oranges left in a bowl by the new housekeeper but grabbed a few Christmas cookies instead and sat at the cook’s tall stool.

Buck leaned with elbows on the counter. “Here’s what concerns me: What if Lucy doesn’t like my friends? I’m a good banker, but there’s a social element and …”

Graham stopped mid-cookie. “Are you saying you want to see other young ladies?”

“My friends have been trying to force a certain girl upon me.”

Graham shook his head.

“Father, I haven’t done a thing. I would never hurt Lucy that way, but this girl is much sought after and her father has friends in banking and government, and for some reason she has taken to me—though I haven’t given her any reason to assume I might care for her in any way other than as a friend.”

Graham shook his head with more emphasis now, dropping the cookie to his plate. “No. You’re going off on the wrong road—again. It’s impossible to have female friends. And I strongly advise you not to marry for banking. Don’t sell your soul for appearances.”

Buck adjusted his prosthetic as he spoke. “The thing is, I don’t really care for this girl in the city.”

“I don’t understand you, son.”

Buck rolled an orange under his hand on the counter. “I wondered if it might be easier.”

“For whom?”

“For me, of course,” Buck said. “I don’t have a good track record—at anything. If things go sour for Lucy and me … the idea of it seems very hard.”

Graham laughed again. “Dear boy, you give me hope yet that one of my sons has a heart. That’s exactly the feeling you should have about Lucy. What would be the point if you didn’t fear losing her?”

PRE-ORDER:

THE ONE MY HEART LOVES & THE GRAND UNION

About The Tenafly Road Series:

“Characters so deep you follow them into the abyss, hoping to come out unscathed, but never returning the same. They will haunt me forever.”

“Rich and colorful page turners. Morris has a fine sense of time and place and brings her memorable characters to life. She also tells a captivating story. You won’t find it easy to put her books down, and her characters will stay with you when you do. We can only hope she keeps writing and gives us more episodes in this fascinating chronicle.”

 

Fiction: Overshadowed

Fred’s expensive cigars, the way he shot, and the way he rode when taken out for a race impressed a few of the young officers. Though his cocksure attitude provoked the more experienced commissioned men and the privates who were the victims of his superior words and actions, he had a small coterie of loyal followers within a few hours.

Buck sat with his parents under the Markhams’ porch pretending not to notice the foolish men of the fort following Fred toward the house and their chatter about the little horse race Fred had just won.

“Say, Buckie, come here, will you?” Fred called at a safe distance.

Buck waved him off, but Margaret said, “Oh, Buck, be nice to Fred and see what he wants.”

Buck grumbled, but rose to his feet, dizzy in the heat. He walked out, hands in pockets, and Margaret called after him, “Stand up straight and stop slouching!”

The soldiers laughed. Fred shoved one of them.

“What do you want?” Buck asked.

“That’s no way to be with your brother! Listen, if you’re not too busy with Bible study maybe you’ll come with us tonight—to town—we’ll have a good frolic and no one need know. I understand that you want Father and Mama to think that you’ve reformed.”

The men exchanged amused grins.

“It’s nothing to do with reputation, Fred. You know I’m not much of a drinker …”

“Oh, go on! Have ginger beer for all I care. Just come.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What are you afraid of? Your newfound piety not holding up in town? How do you expect to test yourself if you stay in a cocoon? I knew this religion bunk was just that—bunk. Jesus Christ himself ate and drank with tax collectors and other low lives. But I guess your faith is weak.”

Buck shifted his weight. He hated the way his brother spoke to him, but he’d always been a part of Fred.

“Fine, I don’t mean to make light of your religion. I’m happy if it makes you happy—really I am. It’s just—well—I miss our good times.”

The other men laughed. Fred turned on them. “Shut up, you ass-licks, if you still want to come out on my tab.”

“Well, I’ll come just this once,” Buck said glancing toward the missionary tents.

“That’s it, boy! Enjoy life a little. There’s no harm in it. Just come for a small drink and I’ll hire a Mexican to drive you back. They tell me it’s hardly dangerous if you move fast enough—and you’re not scared. Are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

Fred chuckled. “I guess God will be your fortress. I’m serious—why do you look at me like that?”

Buck’s gut churned, but he ignored it. Maybe he could use this opportunity to share the gospel.

After taps when the last pink of the sky faded, and the air cooled just a trifle Fred came bustling into his brother’s tent, clean-shaven and hair slicked. “Buckie, the chap I hired out will be long gone if we don’t meet him now.”

“Fred, I …”

“I won’t hear of you staying in. I realize you’re a little shy with your face and all, but I’ll take care that no one so much as looks at you.” He flashed his tiny Derringer and glanced in the little mirror, happy with himself.

Buck, rolling his eyes, pulled his blouse over his head, and grabbed his jacket. They skulked through the shadows. Buck heard Thankful’s lovely singing voice, the deep, sad Irish voice of Fahy, and his mother playing the violin:

 

Of all the comrades that ere I had, they’re sorry for my going away,

And of all the sweethearts that ere I had, they wish me one more day to stay,

But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,

I will gently rise and I’ll softly call, “Goodnight and joy be with you all!”

 

Buck longed to join them for a quiet night, but Fred pushed him along in excitement.

A teamster with a wagon snoozed just outside near a sentry.

“Fred, where are the others?” Buck asked.

“Oh, I was bored with them after an hour, though I managed to bargain a few bottles for us to take on our drive. Looks like it’s just the two of us then.”

“Oh.” Buck’s heart sank. “There’s really nothing to do in town … just a disgusting brothel and a saloon full of …”

Fred grinned and took a long slug of cheap whiskey before leaping into the wagon and pulling Buck in beside him. Buck prayed that the night be cut short as he half listened to the driver and Fred exchange ridiculous sexual conquests.

“Fred, how is Miss Turner?” Buck asked.

“Oh, Rosie’s fine, I guess. But it’s nice to have a break from the inane conversations—if you can even call them conversations. She’s still pretty as a picture though, and her family’s got all the right military and government connections, which I intend to take full advantage of. Stick with me, Buckie, and see if I can’t get you something.”

Fred would probably be president one day. Suddenly Buck’s big ideas about missionary work seemed not only feeble but also impossible. What had Buck ever finished without depending on Fred? How would he ever catch up to Seth Kenyon? Even Kenyon wasn’t famous anyway.

Buck took a slug of the whiskey, but it so offended his senses he could not drink it and spit it over the wagon side. His military training and the enthusiasm he had always had for it seemed so far away before Fred had come out to visit, but now the idea that Fred always outshone him bothered him as it always had.

Buck’s excitement over the Bible in this moment was a vapor in the wind. The future oppressed him.

PREVIOUS EPISODE

THE TENAFLY ROAD SERIES

“Rich and colorful page turners. Morris has a fine sense of time and place and brings her memorable characters to life. She also tells a captivating story. You won’t find it easy to put her book down, and her characters will stay with you when you do. We can only hope she keeps writing and gives us more episodes in this fascinating chronicle.”