In 1865, my heroine in AT LIBERTY TO LOVE (book seven in the Texas Romance series) wanted to go from northeast Texas (Red River County) to San Francisco. Her trip began in downtown Clarksville, the county seat, where the Donoho Hotel served as the station.
Work a jigsaw
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The coach took the Jefferson Trace, about one hundred miles south and east. It could travel about ten miles before changing teams, so they made about ten stops along the way including at Cuthand, Mount Pleasant, and Daingerfield to name a few. It took about twelve hours. Work another
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The same trip thirty-three years earlier in 1832, when the widow Sue Baylor made a valiant effort to get her cotton crop to market in book one, VOW UNBROKEN, lasted ten days with no setbacks. It took her lots longer.
Work a jigsaw
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From Jefferson, my AT LIBERTY TO LOVE heroine took a short steamboat ride down the Red River to the Mississippi for five days to get down to New Orleans.
Those river steamboats were a lower draft where they could also go upriver farther. They were older and smaller. The steamships built to navigate the Gulf and Pacific were larger and drew more water (the draft is how much the boat set into the water. These ship’s bread and butter were the U.S. mail contracts. Freight and passengers were the gravy.
In New Orleans, my lady steamed across the Gulf to reach Caracus, a new city thrown up for the crossing of the Isthmus. There she purchased a seat on the train across the Isthmus to the City of Panama, built in the 1500s with a Spanish influence...a lot like New Orleans, but on the Pacific side of the Isthmus the city enjoyed a good trade. It quite impressed!
The cost from New Orleans to Caracas—which took five or six days depending on weather—cost less than the one day train fare. Prior to the railroad being built in the early 1850s, travelers crossed in barges or canoes part of the way and wagons the rest. That normally took three days with tropical heat and humidity and many insect un-pleasantries. So the train ride, though more expensive, was deemed well worth the price and a necessity rather than a luxury. In Panama City, she again boarded a steamship for the Pacific Ocean leg of her journey.
Those steamships stayed relatively close to the coast, not veering too far out into the ocean waters. First class passengers dined on linen-covered tables with fine, matching china. Uniformed servants attended to their every need as at the finest big city establishments.
Bands played, and gaming rooms presented a diversion for those inclined to take a chance. This all filled the top deck; those passengers’ lavish suites offered private balconies to enjoy the ocean breezes and magnificent water sunsets and rises.
Steerage, two decks down, could be as inexpensive as fifteen dollars while first class might set the traveler back over fifty. The floor in between cost less than first class and offered fewer amenities; leaving off most all of the elegant accommodations, the middle deck gave the business man and his wife—perhaps traveling with their children—a more affordable fare.
The next floor down, steerage, got no meals included with passage. They were purchased separately, and there could be as many as six packed into a single room. Of course, tickets didn’t cost as much as above, and the decks never mixed. Cheapest passage was on the lowest level, underwater—space in the boiler room or cargo hold as you could find it. This is where the ‘wooders’ rode.
On the Pacific side, from Panama City, my heroine boarded yet another steamship up to San Francisco with possible stops in Acapulco or San Diego before arriving in City by the Bay, depending on how much coal or firewood they carried on board. The bigger, newer ships routinely made the trip with no stops. This leg of the journey took fifteen days, making the trip from Texas to the golden shores a month to thirty-five days.
Travelers could opt to go cross county by stage and arrive in as few as twenty-two, but the ride proved rough and the warring tribe of Indians always posed a danger. Most thought nice accommodations and safety outweighed the time factor.
As Marcus Ford, my hero in AT LIBERTY TO LOVE discovered, one could work his way on a steamship serving as a wooder. Spending four hours of every twelve shoveling coal to feed the boiler was grueling, monotonous work. And dangerous, too, considering if the boiler did blow, those men were goners for sure. And shirkers could be summarily tossed overboard. The captain was king.
AT LIBERTY TO LOVE, book seven in the highly successful Texas Romance historical series, has just debuted May 27th and is now available in print or digital formats.
JACKET COPY: Obedience is better than sacrifice…and trumps romance, no matter how sweet.
Profound loneliness propels a childless widow west with the idea of choosing an orphan to share her life. On the way, a fellow traveler takes her by surprise. She never dreams, is unprepared, doesn’t need another man, but can’t get him out of her head…or heart. He’s so perfect—every bit the one she’d searched for as a young woman—except his mistrust of God has erected a wall she cannot breach.
Marcus Ford blames God and struggles for peace after losing his wife and baby. Not once has he considered another woman could be the answer, but the widow is like none other he’s ever met. He falls hard, but plans are taking him east. Hope dashed sends two hearts into the pit. If only Ford could forgive God or the widow ease up on her adamant resolve.
Will God’s mercy shine a beacon in the fog of despair and prove sufficient to heal their souls?
EXCERPT:
Stepping off the last stair, she approached. He inhaled deeply then shook his head. “Oh my.” He drew in another long breath, closing his eyes. “You smell better than you look. I mean, you look outstanding, but your fragrance is even better. Not that you didn’t smell good before… I mean…” He finally just shrugged. “Your appearance shames me. I should have brought my dress blues.”
She grinned. “I understand, but here.” She handed him her door key. “On my couch, you’ll some new threads…the least Henry Buckmeyer could do.”
At first, he didn’t take it, then scooped it up like a kid in a candy store and took the stairs two at a time.
“I’ll wait on the deck, just outside the dining room.”
He waved one hand but didn’t look back.
Might do the man a bit of good to have his pride pricked. She chuckled, so enjoying the highly pleasant distraction he afforded.
Took the man longer than expected, but the wait worth it, the readymade suit fit perfect, she loved the shirt’s high collar and how it seemed to choke him.
He grinned then extended his arm. “Thank you.”
She slipped her hand under then over his offering. “You’re welcome.” She glanced down. He’d shined his boots. Per chance that accounted for the extra time.
REVIEWS: At Liberty To Love shows how God can speak through dreams, visions and small children. As God spoke in biblical times, so He can still speak that way today. There are some wonderful exchanges of dialogue with four year old Michael. Caryl McAdoo demonstrates the power of trust and faith. "Nothing was too hard for God" Who shows that He loves to step in and make the seemingly impossible, possible. Another great offering from Caryl McAdoo. --Julia Wilson, Worchester, England reader
I’ve followed
Henry Buckmeyer and his family since the first book, "Vow Unbroken" and
couldn't wait for this one. Could this be the true love the widow has never
known before? At Liberty To Love as
always, gives glory to God. All Caryl McAdoo’s stories are uplifting and truly
enjoyable. I highly recommend this one and all of the stories in the Texas
Romance series. --Michelle Beach, Clinton, New York reader
With characters
that charm, and scenes that tug at our heart strings, Caryl McAdoo keeps us
reading well past our bedtimes. Mrs. McAdoo has woven yet another Texas tall
tale to keep us flipping pages. The mistress of the Texas yarn, her Texas
dialect tantalizes from start to finish. At
Liberty to Love made this reviewer fall in love with fictional people who
seem so real that they almost breathe. This character-driven, well-crafted
novel is a keeper. I’m adding it to my collection of Texas Romances by Caryl
McAdoo. --Cassandra Wessel, Tionesta, Pennsylvania multi-published author of devotionals
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Another
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Bio: Caryl McAdoo is all about loving God! She currently writes four series: the historical Christian ‘Texas Romance’; a contemporary ‘Red River Romance’; The Generations, her Biblical fiction, and the newest Days of Dread Trilogy for mid-grade readers. Known as the Singing Pray-er, she loves praising with new songs the Lord gives her and prays her story gives God glory! In 2008, she and her high school sweetheart-husband Ron moved from the DFW area—home for fifty-plus years—to the woods of Red River County. Caryl counts four children and sixteen grandsugars life’s biggest blessings believing all good things come from God. Besides glorifying Him, she hopes each title will also minister His love, mercy, and grace to its readers. Caryl and Ron live in Clarksville, the county seat, in the far northeast corner of the Lone Star State with two grandsons.
LINKS: All Books At Liberty to Love BookBub Website Newsletter Facebook Blog GoodReads Google+ LinkedIn Twitter Pinterest Hear me sing on
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A coffee maker in San Francisco by the name of Folgers decided to win the hearts of Texans away from the Ariosa coffee. Folgers sent Frank Atha to Texas to set up an outlet there. Folgers was a much more expensive coffee than Arbuckles and Atha focused on that in his advertising campaign. Folgers' expensive Golden Gate Coffee was the one sold in Texas. Atha would travel around Texas in a wagon, giving away free samples to housewives. He limited the number of grocers who could carry the brand also, making it seem like a harder to buy item. That in itself made the popular Arbuckles seem more common and less desirable.
