The third of the Hearts Stolen Prequelettes - sharing letters back and forth between Levi and his sister-cousin Rebecca. If you've not read the first two (each is very short), here are the links: 1st Letter from Rebecca 2nd Letter also from Rebecca
Wallace whacked him on the knee. "Come on, finish it. She's been writing on it a month."
June 22, 1836
Daddy said we were going to town tomorrow, so I’m going to write one more little bit before I post this letter
then.
COME HOME!
He finally hired a carpenter and his son to help get the new big front
of the house dried in. That’s what they called it,
and I suppose it means to where it’ll keep the rain out. It’s ace high to be
sure. Mama and I still had to
help because you were gone. Come home now.
That thing I wanted to talk to you about? Well, I figured it out myself with Sassy and Sophia Belle, because you were not home.
Mama bought me a new dress with an empire waist and puffy sleeves at the top,
but they’re more a fit elbow to wrist. It’s a beautiful green. Boss, and I love
it.
Rebecca
dipped her quill in the ink, tapped it twice on
her blotter,
and
left herself a
moment to picture her new beau. She hated it that Mama and Daddy caught her
staring at him instead of working, but well, she was coming fourteen. Already marrying
age by some accounts. She tapped the quill again then returned to her missive.
Yes, sir, you will not recognize the place when you finally come
home. Have I mentioned I want you here and not running all over the Republic?
Jean Paul has been working hard on getting more land ready
for spring planting. He and daddy have been talking a lot about busting out more
bottom land. He’s got that thirty acre block west of the smoke house laid by,
says he’ll need to run it again before he plants, but it sure looks good.
Bless the good Lord we don’t live there anymore.
At the time, I didn’t mind it
at all, but we didn’t know any better. Just
wait until you see the new front of the house. I mean before it was nice, but now… Well, come home like a good brother should, and you’ll see for your
own self. I hate you not being here, please
be safe and careful and don’t go and do something stupid.
I love you, brother. We’re all praying for you, Levi. Mama says you’ll be fine, and I agree, but I’d like it a whole lot better if you were here.
It’s getting late.
Mama says I’ve got to turn the lamp off, so I’ll start another
letter when I have something new to write about.
Write back and post it as quick as you can.
Love
as always,
Your
Bitty Beck
Levi
folded the three pages and slid them back into the envelope she’d mailed it in
then placed it in his wallet. That he tucked inside his saddle bags, then
retrieved the piece of paper and pencil he’d been carrying for better than a
month. He’d already read the thing three times to Wallace, and now that they
were almost back to Austin, he needed to get something down to send back.
“How
old is your sister, Levi?”
He
looked to his friend. “Fourteen.”
Wallace
tossed another branch on the fire. “Be sure to mention me when you write her
back. Maybe tell her about those yaps that ambushed us last month.”
Levi
laughed. “No, I am not writing about that. And you need to stop bragging on me
like you’ve been doing everywhere we go.”
“God’s
own truth. You got three of them.” He laughed. “I loved it when you took that
last one’s Arkansas toothpick away from him and slit his throat.” He dragged
his finger across his own neck.
Levi
couldn’t argue with the truth, but Wallace Rusk had made him out to be some
kind of hero. “True, and you bagged the other two. But still, trust me, my
friend. Girls don’t want to hear about us killing Comanche.”
“Well
how about that lady you met in San Antonio? Now she’s worth writing home about.”
“Wallace,
I’m not interested in that girl. She wasn’t much older than Rebecca, and not
half as pretty.”
His
friend laughed. “She sure was smitten with the great Levi Baylor, famous Texas
Ranger.”
“Will
you stop that? I’m not great or famous. Really, you’ve got to stop bragging on
me.”
“Hey.
It ain’t brag if it’s true.”
Levi
waved him off. “Don’t you have the first watch?”
“Nope,
me and Nick traded.”
He
nodded. “Well shut your trap. I got to figure out something to write. We should
make Austin tomorrow.”
“How
about that band of Kiowa?”
“No,
now hush.”
October 13, 1836
Dearest Rebecca, Aunt Sue and Uncle
Henry, and my little sisters Mary Rachel, Gwendolyn, and Baby Cecilia.
Hope this missive
finds you all well and happy. I’m good. Wallace Rusk, Nick Ward, and I are
about back to Austin, so I thought I’d get this written to mail while we’re
there. The Major said maybe some leave was in order if the Comanche didn’t
start something. If he lets me loose, I may hightail it home for a visit.
Sorry I haven’t
written sooner, but we’ve been down south, and I didn’t figure a letter would
have much chance of getting to you.
Sure do miss
everyone. Is the baby walking yet? How’s the house building coming along?
Sounds great that Jean Paul’s going to plant more cotton, not that I care much
for hoeing or picking or having anything to do with lint—you can vouch for that
Auntie—but I know what a money maker it is.
Uncle, I’m
sending a full head right I traded for. Use it however you see fit, or save if
for that little valley we found along the Llano, either way I trust your
judgment.
Auntie, sure
miss your cooking and hearing you nag me about any and every thing. Wallace’s
grammar sure needs help, I’m sure everyone will like him if you ever get to
meet him.
A low two note whistle drew his attention. He set the paper down and pulled out his pistol. Wallace nodded toward the south. Levi agreed then eased north.
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