Sabrina's Man Read online

  © 2013 by Gilbert Morris

  Print ISBN 978-1-61626-759-9

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62836-321-0

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62836-322-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

  All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Kirk DouPonce, DogEared Design

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part Two

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Part Three

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Part Four

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  Little Rock, Arkansas, 1864

  The late summer sun, which had been hiding behind a silver cumulus cloud, illuminated the face of Waco Smith as he stood staring up at a large sign glistening with fresh paint. Here at the north end of Little Rock, the businesses framing Main Street were, for the most part, framed structures, but others made a more permanent statement with their façade of brick and marble. Waco turned and looked down to his left to the Arkansas River that dissected the town and lent its own dark odors to the sense of the southern part of Arkansas.

  Waco noticed with a degree of sadness that many of the men walking the street to his right wore parts of the Confederate uniform. Many of them were missing arms, and others hobbled along on crutches or on one leg. This war is going to ruin the South. The thought was bitter in his mouth, for he was tired of the war as were most people in the South.

  He thought with bitterness of the year that he had served in the Confederate Army. He had joined up in a fit of patriotism when Fort Sumter had fallen but had signed up for only one year. He had fought at Bull Run, but when his year was up, he had left the army and determined never to fight in the Civil War again.

  Waco’s train of thought about the war was broken when a voice behind him said, “That’s a right nice sign you got there, Waco.”

  Waco turned and smiled at the speaker, Micah Satterfield, and paused, studying the police chief.

  Satterfield was a heavyset individual with a square face, a pair of sharp blue eyes, and a neatly trimmed mustache. He had served Little Rock as police chief for three terms and kept a tight lid on the city. “You’re getting to be a respectable citizen.”

  Shaking his head, Waco gave Satterfield a brief grin. “Never thought I’d be one of your taxpayers, did you, Chief?” He was six feet two inches tall and had to look down on Satterfield, as he did on most men.

  Satterfield glanced up at the large sign that announced SMITH & BARTON HARDWARE. “Hope to get rich, do you, son?”

  “I doubt that. All I’ve ever done is raise horses.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, adding, “Will—he’s the smart one.”

  “So I understand. You two must have been friends for a long time.”

  “Nope.” Waco studied the sign and murmured, “I worked on my grandparents’ horse ranch most of my life. My grandfather died, so I ran the ranch for Grandma. Last December she died. Since I was the only kin, she left the ranch to me. I sold out and made straight for the big city. I was tired of cleaning up after horses and aimed to waste all that money I got on wild women and whiskey.”

  Sheriff Satterfield studied the tall man. “Well, you didn’t do that as I thought you might. What stopped you, Waco?”

  Smith took off his hat and ran his hand through his stiff black hair. “Well, I would have, but when I went into the bank to deposit the money I got from the sale of the horse farm, I met Will Barton. I guess I was boasting about what a fool I was going to make of myself, and he talked me into putting off such foolishness. We got to know each other, and somehow he convinced me to go into business with him.” He stuck the hat on his head, pushed it back, and said, “I still don’t know how it all happened, but the first thing I knew we took my money, Will quit his job at the bank, and for the next six months we just about killed ourselves working twenty hours a day getting that hardware business started.”

  “You put up all the money?” Satterfield had some doubt in his voice. “That’s unusual.”

  “Oh, Will had a little money. Mostly he took care of the finances of the business. He knew how to keep books, and he knew hardware. I just turned out to be a strong back and a weak mind. You know, Sheriff, I thought breaking horses was hard, but running a business. . .that’s worse. Sometimes I wish I was back there in the simple life.”

  Suddenly a voice called out, “Well, are you going to stand and stare at that sign all day, or are you going to come in and give me a hand?” Both men turned and saw that Will Barton, Waco’s partner, had emerged from the store. He was wearing an apron and shook his head. “I can’t pick up those kegs of nails. That’s your job.”

  “My master’s voice.” Waco nodded toward Satterfield, bid him good-bye, and with a rolling gait moved to the front door. “When are we going to hire somebody to do all my work, Will?”

  “Not anytime soon.” Will Barton smiled then and added, “If you think handling stock is hard, you ought to try balancing a set of books for a new business that’s out of money. Put those nail kegs over by the wall, will you?”

  “Sure.” Waco moved over where six nail kegs were stacked, picked one of them up, and carried it easily with a strength that surprised most people. He moved the rest of the kegs then leaned against the counter and sighed. He opened one barrel and pulled out a cracker and then reached into another and pulled out a pickle. He took a bite of the pickle, made a face, and said, “These things are sure sour.”

  “Well, stop eating them. That’s my profit.”

  “I wish I had never run into you, Will. If I had gone right down to having my fun, I could be living it up with the hostesses down at the Golden Nugget.”

  “Hostesses! That’s a nice word for ’em.”

  “Well, it doesn’t do any good to be nasty. That’s what they call themselves.”

  “If you had done that, you’d be broke and probably in jail.”

  Suddenly Waco grinned, which he’d been told by several ladies made him look much younger, and reached out and put his hand on Will’s shoulders.

  The man was his opposite in almost every way. Barton was only five feet eight and was almost fragile. He had blond hair and hazel eyes, and his face was composed of delicate features. Waco’s hair lay thick and black and ragged against his temple. He had high cheekbones, and minute weather lines slanted out from his eyes across smooth bronze skin. His mouth was b
road below an aqualine nose, and his eyes were a shade of gray that was almost blue.

  Will had been to college for a year when his father had died. There had been no inheritance. Will had found a job as a clerk at the bank and had done well enough.

  “I was just kidding, Will,” Waco said. The feelings of his partner were easily hurt, so he had to be careful.

  Instantly Will gave Waco a smile. “Take the cash from the sales to the bank, will you? I don’t like to keep it at the store.”

  “Sure.”

  “And take the pistol. You might get held up.”

  “I’ll be right careful.” Waco moved to the drawer behind one of the counters, pulled out a. 44, checked the load, stuck it in his waistband, and sighed. “Do you reckon business will pick up after this war’s over, Will?”

  “Bound to, and it can’t last much longer,” Will declared. “Grant’s got Lee penned up in Richmond.”

  “I wish it would end today. I lost some good friends in that fracas.” Waco turned and called out as he left, “I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Waco left the building, but not before hearing Will turn back to the books with a sigh.

  As Waco left the bank, he was greeted by a blond woman who grinned at him. “When you coming down to visit me, Waco?”

  “Oh, I’ll be there. You just hang on, Rosie.”

  Stepping outside, he looked up and studied the sky, then muttered, “There’s some rain in those clouds.” He walked down the street to the train station. When he got there, he stopped to talk to Oscar Riggs.

  “You still aim to go hunting after a deer with me this weekend?” Oscar asked. He was a muscular man with a pair of sharp black eyes.

  “Yep, we need some venison at our place.”

  “We’ll go on Sunday morning.”

  Oscar shook his head violently. “I’m plum nervous about hunting on the Sabbath.”

  Waco was amused. “Well, you’re a sinner just like I am, aren’t you, Oscar?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to make it any worse.” He took a match out of his pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and began chewing on it. “Don’t it scare you to think about what’s gonna happen to us when we die?”

  “Some. I try not to think about it much.”

  Oscar suddenly turned and said, “Well, there comes the 2:15. I hope there’s no baggage for me to move.”

  The arrival of the train always drew visitors to the station. Men with nothing else to do, many of them veterans crippled up, gathered, and Waco idly watched as three men got off.

  Then a woman stepped down, and the conductor reached up to take her hand.

  “That’s a right nice-looking woman,” Oscar said.

  “Sure is,” Waco replied.

  The two watched the woman as the conductor helped her locate her luggage, which she set down on the platform. She looked around as if confused.

  Waco would have left, but he had gone only a few steps when Oscar said, “Uh-oh, that’s trouble.”

  Waco turned and saw that two men had bracketed the young woman and were giving her a hard time.

  “Those two ought to be run out of town.”

  Waco recognized Jasper Landon and Orville York. Both of them had served short terms in prison, and Waco had beaten Orville in an oozing fistfight in the Golden Nugget Saloon. The sight of the two giving the young woman a hard time brought the quick flare of temper that lurked somewhere below Waco’s smooth surface. “Those fellows need a lesson in manners,” he remarked.

  “Better watch yourself, Waco,” Oscar called out as his friend left. “They been spreading it around they’re gonna wipe you out.”

  Moving to where the three stood, Waco paused.

  Instantly the two men turned their attention on him. Both of them had anger in their expressions.

  “You two be on your way. Leave the lady alone.”

  “What makes you think you can give me orders?” Jasper Landon said. He was a tall, lanky man with a lantern jaw.

  Orville York was shorter but muscular. He spat out the words, “You might as well move on! We’re doing right well without your help here.”

  Waco ignored them as he turned to the woman. “Young lady, you’re probably going to the hotel. I’ll be glad to escort you.”

  “Thank you very much.” The woman was very attractive, with blond hair and blue eyes and dressed better than most.

  “I’m going to wipe you out one of these days,” Jasper said. “I hear you think you’re a tough man.”

  Waco kept his eyes fixed on both and was not surprised when, without warning, Orville threw a swift punch. Waco had been expecting it. He blocked it with his left arm and struck the man a tremendous blow on the nose. Orville wheeled, cried out, and fell backward in the dust. Instantly Waco wheeled to see that Landon was reaching for a gun. With one quick move he pulled out his own gun before Landon could free his own weapon.

  “I ain’t drawin’!” Landon said quickly.

  “Second thoughts are usually best. You two move on. I’m tired of the sight of you.”

  Orville scrambled to his feet. Blood was staining his shirt. “You won’t always have that gun.”

  “I’ll always have the gun, Orville. I’m not telling you again. Move on.”

  The two cursed but left.

  Waco watched them to be sure they were out of the way.

  The woman said, “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Waco said, “Sorry you’d get such an introduction to our city. I’m Waco Smith. Could I help you with your luggage?”

  “I—I don’t know exactly where to go. I need a room for the night.”

  “Well, there’s the Majestic Hotel. The name’s more stuck up than the hotel, but it’s clean.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it.”

  Waco picked up the two suitcases and then nodded. “Down this way, miss. I don’t know your name.”

  “I’m Alice Malone. I’m very grateful to you for you help, but won’t it make trouble for you?”

  “Oh, those two will make trouble wherever they go, but they won’t bother you.”

  They reached the Majestic Hotel, and Waco waited while the woman signed her name to the guest register.

  The desk clerk instructed, “Room 206 up on the second floor. Got nobody to carry your bags.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Waco said pleasantly. “Got a key, George?”

  “Right here.” George leaned over and pulled a key from a board and handed it over. “There you are, Miss Malone. Glad to have you in our city.”

  “Thank you.”

  Waco moved up the stairs with the young woman. When she got to the room, she unlocked the door, and he walked inside and put the suitcases down. He took off his hat and said, “Well, like the man said, welcome to Little Rock.”

  She hesitated and bit her lower lip.

  There was some sort of fear in her, at least Waco thought so. “Look, it’s a little early, but those train rides can get you pretty hungry. Be proud to have you go down with me. We’ll have an early supper or late lunch. Whichever.”

  “Oh, I am hungry, but it would be a bother.”

  “No bother at all. Come along.”

  The restaurant was only a quarter full. Waco pulled a chair out, and when she sat down, he moved across from her.

  A woman came up and said, “Hello, Waco, what can I get you?”

  “What’s good today?”

  “Got some good beef.”

  “Bring us some of that and any vegetables you can find. That suit you, Miss Malone?”

  “It sounds wonderful.”

  The woman moved away, and Waco managed to make small talk as they were waiting. The meal came, and she ate hungrily. Waco, who was always hungry, downed his meal quickly.

  Finally Alice seemed to be troubled about something and said, “I don’t know exactly what to do, Mr. Smith.”

  “Waco’s fine, ma’am. What do you mean you don’t know wha
t to do?”

  “Well, I was living with my sister and her husband. They have a large family and a small house, so I felt like I needed to give them some freedom. I have another aunt that lives here. I need to find her. She invited me once to come and stay with her, but I haven’t talked to her in some time. I’m just a little bit nervous.”

  “Well, be good to have you here. What’s your aunt’s name?”

  “Bessell Gilbert.”

  “Don’t know the lady, but we’ll find her.”

  After they finished their meal, Bessell Gilbert turned out to be easy enough to find. At least her house was.

  Sheriff Satterfield had been their source. When the two had found him in his office, he was slapping flies with the swatter, but he rose at once and nodded when Waco introduced Alice.

  “My aunt’s name is Bessell Gilbert. Do you know her, Sheriff?”

  “Yes, I do, but I’m sorry to tell you she’s not here.”

  Dismay swept across Alice’s face. “I haven’t heard from her. I wanted to come and stay with her. I really don’t have any other place to go.”

  “Well, we’ll find something. She got married and moved away out to Kansas somewhere. Perhaps we can find her.”

  “That won’t do any good, I’m afraid,” Alice said. “If she’s not here, I’m sure she’s sold her house.”

  “Yes, she did, and folks are living in it now.”

  “Come along. We’ll figure out something,” Waco said. “Let’s go down and sit on the bench and watch the old Arkansas River flow by.”

  She did not answer, and he saw that she was upset. He himself had never had such a problem, and he felt an urge somehow to help her. “Here. Sit on one of those benches there, and we’ll watch the steamboats.”

  Alice sat down, and he sat beside her. She was quiet for a long time.

  Waco did not know how to handle the situation, but he felt that somehow she had to have help. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll find you a place to stay, and then you can decide what to do.”

  “I—I don’t have very much money.”

  “We can probably find you a place with low rent. Don’t let it worry you. Things like this always look bad when you’re in the middle of them.” The two sat there, and Waco spoke to her as cheerfully as he knew how.