The Threads West team is hard at work, immersed in the details of the up-coming Maps of Fate, the second book of the six novel Threads West, An American Saga series. I am engrossed in the writing of the next installment of this saga of the adventure and romance of the West wrapped in a silver bolo of the American spirit.
Maps of Fate will span a period from 1855 to the early 1870s. The threads of lives of new characters will enter the arc of the story. You will be introduced to the generation who will eventually succeed the courageous, independent but conflicted personalities that comprise the vanguard of unforgettable characters that fuel the tale begun in the #1 Best Selling, Multiple Award Winning first book, Threads West.
This is the initial of a number of excerpts from Book Two. The life threads of the original characters, seven of whom hail from Europe, have begun to twine together. The wrenching combustion of their interactions, journeys, romance, tragedies and triumphs hurtles them with ever-increasing velocity towards their destinies in the wild and untamed spine of America, the Rocky Mountains.
Some of our postings will be identical to those found at the end of Book One (in both the paperback and digital editions). Others will be brand-new, carefully selected and freshly plucked from the rapidly evolving second installment in this ongoing story of the romance of America, her people, her spirit and the West. It is truly our story. We hope you enjoy these tantalizing tidbits from it’s continuation.
The Emancipated
From a Chapter of Maps of Fate—Book Two of Threads West, An American Saga
The whisper of the river entwined itself with an almost imperceptible breeze that drifted down valley from the west. The silhouettes of mountain peaks towered sharp and dark against a sky that had almost lost its day glow. The luminescence of the coming moon shadowed silver above the ridge lines.
The medium-height, slightly overweight figure of a man, his short, curly salt-and-pepper hair dully reflecting the slight sheen from the emerging lunar light, turned to a small, slightly hunched female figure. “Lucy, keep that mule quiet. We didn’t walk all this way as freemen to have no trouble now.”
“I’ll sure enough keep him quiet, Israel. What do you think we should do? I’m hungry. Do you think it’s safe?”
There was a silence as the two peered intently upriver to the dim but beckoning glow of oil lamps from a ranch house’s windows. Other than the bright points of Venus and the first night stars, there was no other visible light.
Israel spoke slowly, thinking. “Well, this is the edge of the country. We sure are a long way from Oklahoma. This ain’t no plantation and I’m bettin’ all that grows here is hay. You can hear them cattle. It’s going to be cold tonight. These thin clothes of ours ain’t going to be much help with winter coming on. We’re about out of food, and I lost my last fishhook yesterday. I don’t see as we have much choice. We have to take our chances.”
Lucy continued to stroke the muzzle of the mule and laid her free hand lightly on Israel’s forearm. “You’re my man, Israel. I’ll do what you think.”
They gazed for a moment at the halo of light a mile or so out. “Maybe folks this far out will be happy to have company.” There was a tinge of doubt edged in the hope of her tone.
“Well, let me do the talking, woman. And if there’s any sign of trouble, we’ll just back our way out of there somehow. Let’s tie off the mule before the house. They don’t have to know we have a critter just yet.” He squeezed her arm and smiled grimly into the darkness. “One thing I’ll tell you, we’ll freeze to death and starve before we are slaves again.”