The Widow’s Guardian – Extended Epilogue


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Eugene Belle had never seen such an uproar. He’d heard rumors of discontent in other places, all of them very far east, all the way to the Atlantic Coast. But the intellectual discourse was fierce on both sides in such places, where some were readily embracing exciting new ideas and ejecting the old ones.

He couldn’t help but think of something his friend, John Trooper Clark had said about the changing face of America; that it was the chance which made it such a lovely face. But that change was not so well accepted in other parts of the country, particularly the Rocky Mountains, where time seemed to have stood still in many ways. The peaks and crags seemed untouched for eons, the trees stood tall, older than many families in the region. Animals of the area hadn’t changed since before mankind had begun to study such things.

And when change came to such a place, the face of America seemed not so lovely at all. It was grimacing, screaming, eyes glowing with fury. It had a screaming voice and pointed an angry finger, directly in Eugene’s direction.

Belle’s Books had become a thriving local concern. Not only was the shop frequently visited by regulars in town, it was the hub of a distribution network which would also carry the books he published himself, using the same shingle.

Primarily, he brought books in and sold them to locals. They delighted to the adventures of scamps like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. They went down the rabbit hole with Alice for her adventures through the Looking Glass. Jules Verne took them on a journey around the world in only eighty days.

The King James version of the holy bible remained a mainstay, though most locals either had their own or simply read the copies he’d already sold to the local churches for their congregants’ complimentary use.

Religion was usually found in the churches to the exclusion of elsewhere, and it hardly ever reared its head in the bookshop. Nor had anyone raised a brow to the like of The Mammals of Australia or Henry Davis Thoreau’s Life in the Woods.

But it wasn’t so easy when he began selling On the Origin of Species by naturalist Charles Darwin. Chronicling the scientist’s research aboard his ship The Beagle, it was welcomed as a work of serious scientific value and a worthy heir to the work The Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation, published anonymously in Great Britian several years before.

Many of the people of Boulder did not seem to agree. And they forced their way into the store, a solid three dozen of them, to prove the point in a way that could never be forgotten.

One man raised a book up and shook it at Eugene. He was known to many as Hair-lip Larry. “You swine!”

“Filthy dog,” another person called out.

Eugene said, “I don’t know what you mean! We’re friends, neighbors!”

“Say that again and may lightning strike you dead!” The crowd threw up a mighty hoot.

Another man shouted, “Yer lookin’ at the wrath of God right ‘cheer!” The crowd shook their fists and cried out even louder for Eugene’s shop, his very life.

“I just sell these books,” Eugene said, “I don’t write them!”

“It’s just as bad,” Hair-lip Larry shouted. “And you’ll pay just the same!”

“Please, friends,” Eugene said, “where’s Pastor Roberts?”

“In Denver,” Hair-lip Larry said, “but he’ll be back just in time to lay you in’a ground!” The men cheer again, and a lump rose in Eugene’s throat. He had a Winchester repeater behind the counter, but it was too late to get to it. He was looking at being overwhelmed, perhaps beaten to death or even hanged from an oil whale lamppost in the thoroughfare.

“All right, all right,” the familiar voice said from somewhere in the crowd. They parted to make way for none other than John Trooper Clark himself. Everybody knew the man, either directly or through his reputation. He was the town’s richest man, was married to the territory’s lovelies and most desirable woman. The two had brought down no less than Andrew Masters, whom some had come to call Boulder’s Former Masters since his demise four years earlier.

Trooper stepped into the store, occupying a space between Eugene and the angry mob. “What’s all this about?”

“It’s about this,” Hair-lip Larry said, raising a bound volume above his head. “Travelin’ preacher called it the devil’s tome!”

“What travelin’ preacher?”

“Brother Thomas,” another man called out, “on the street corner just two days past.”

“And in the ensuing two days,” Trooper said, “I presume you’ve all read this book yourselves to make up your own minds?” Hair-lip Larry and the others trades glances, and Trooper went on, “What does this preacher mean about the devil’s book?”

Hair-lip Larry said, “It stands against God creatin’ mankind, is what! The man thinks we was all apes not too far back. Apes!” Hair-lip Larry straightened his posture, one brow rising on his hideous, deformed face. “I was made in the image of God Almighty.”

Trooper asked, “But … what do you all care what this book says? You all read your bible, right?” Many of the men nodded, but they weren’t enthusiastic. Some didn’t bother with the lie at all, and still a few others let their shameful expressions fall to face the floor.

Trooper went on, “Isn’t there room for more than one point of view in this country? This is America, isn’t it?” The men grumbled, some of them nodding. “Isn’t there something about freedom of religion in the founding documents, or … or am I wrong? Or was the great George Washington wrong? Was Thomas Jefferson wrong?”

“They was God-fearin’ men,” Hair-lip Larry said. “This feller’s a heretic!”

“I’m nothing of the kind,” little Eugene said from behind Trooper’s protective position. “I have a dozen bibles right here. Take them, compliments of Belle’s Books.” He turned and pulled the armful of books off the shelves. He handed one out, but it took a good, long time for someone to take it. The others were handed out in fairly short order.

Hair-lip Larry yelled at Eugene, “We don’t need yer free bibles!”

“You must have your own then,” Trooper said. “You’re … you’re lettered, Larry?”

Hair-lip Larry stoop there, clearly struggling with the truth. “We could cipher in my family.” Eugene knew the man was illiterate, but that there was some literacy in his domestic life, such as that might be.

Eugene thought fast. “Sounds like you’d enjoy Black Beauty, the story of a black horse and the lives it changes.”

Hair-lip Larry glanced around, the other men looking at him. “I had a horse named Blackie when I was a youngin’.” Eugene was already handing him a copy of the modern classic, already beloved by tens of thousands of readers.

Trooper pointed out another man. “How about you, friend? What’s your pleasure? It’s my treat.”

Eugene turned to offer Trooper a smile, silent recognition for all he’d done and all he continued to do. But Eugene knew he’d earned that friendship, that loyalty, that courage, that rescue. He’d never forget it, and he didn’t suspect his friend Trooper would either.

The man called out, “You got that Lewis and Clark book?”

Eugene nodded. “The Expedition, comin’ right up.”

Another man said, “Gimme one o’ them too.”

Eugene turned to another shelf and withdrew the volumes to hand them into the crowd.

Trooper said, “There you go, boys, Lewis and Clark. Now that was a pair of great Americans. And didn’t they do basically what this Darling fellow did?”

“Darwin,” Eugene corrected him, “Charles Darwin.”

“Right,” Trooper said, offering Eugene a conspiratorial little wink, “thanks for settin’ me straight.” He turned back to the crowd. “He studied nature, wrote down what he observed, that’s all. Granted, he was from …”

Trooper turned to Eugene, who said, “England, actually.”

“Oh, well, the man can’t have everything!” The crowd laughed, many of the men already flipping through the pages of their books. “All right now, boys, everybody have their fill?” The men nodded and grumbled, more interested in their books than in Eugene’s life. “Let’s not have any more of these dustups, yes? And as for traveling preachers? Next time, well, let’s all do our own thinking, eh? Let’s live our own lives!”

The men rose a louder chant of agreement.

“Let’s leave all that for the Old Country,” Trooper went on. “We’re Americans, nobody tells us what to think or how to feel. We decide for ourselves!”

The men cheered.

Eugene was overwhelmed with the energy, the turn of luck in his favor. He surprised himself when his own voice called out, “And how do we do that?” The shop went silent, all eyes falling on the little bookseller. Even Trooper waited with an expectant air. Eugene repeated, “How do we decide for ourselves?”

Still, no answer came back.

“Books, my friends,” Eugene said, greater strength in his voice than he’d ever known before. He raised one of the volumes he was holding, not even glancing at the title. “Books! Information! You can’t decide if you have no information. That’s how they control you, not by educating you but by keeping you uneducated!”

Some of the men shrugged, trading glances.

Eugene went on, “Books can bring you the world, and bring you to the world. Books take you places you simply cannot go to otherwise, times in history you certainly can never go to, even into the future! Books are where you’ll find every fact man has ever recorded. And surely, even every fact, every thought, every theory, every notion, all of it combined; with certainty, none of it could intimidate the Lord Almighty.”

The crowd nodded and mumbled their agreement. Trooper looked on with evident surprise and pleasure.

Eugene went on, “There’s nothing any man can do to change God’s plan, to erase His majesty! All of these volumes of man, stacked one upon the next, could never reach all the way to heaven, not even close!”

“Well said,” Trooper tossed in as the other men grunted their approval even louder.

“And what do these theories come to, in the end? My friends and neighbors, it’s not to … to erase God or to take God out of our lives. These so-called Enlightenment theories, not so different from those which gave birth to this very nation, are not meant to disprove God, but to prove that God exists!”

The crowd grunted in surprise, trading more glances while Trooper looked on. Eugene added, “These sciences only seek to help reveal the … the methodology of it all; not the why, but … the how. The notion is to get closer to God, not further from Him.”

The men seemed satisfied, some of them even convinced. “So read freely, my friends,” Eugene went on. “And know that you can always come here to decide for yourself what you’ll read, what you’ll think, and who you are!”

The crowd threw up a mighty cheer which nearly shook the sturdy building with its vibrance and approval. They fell into a bundle of conversations as they turned to shuffle out of the store, leaving Eugene and Trooper alone.

“Troop,” Eugene said, “how can I thank you?”

Trooper clapped his hand down onto Eugene’s shoulder. “Come to dinner tonight? The wife’s making a fine roast, and little John Jr. is already working in his first tooth.”

“What can I bring?”

Trooper glanced around the shop. “You’re the storyteller, I’ll leave it to you to regale the missus with the story of your victory here today. We’ll provide the rest.”

“Looking forward to it,” Eugene said, the two men shaking hands, “very much looking forward.”

Eugene stood as Trooper tipped his hat and left the shop. Sudden calm remained in his wake. But the shop still stood, Eugene lived to fight another day. And a new part of his person seemed to have been ignited, inspired by example and by necessity. Eugene felt strong, he felt good, he felt ready to face the future.

Everybody in Boulder would have to be, as they would across the nation. New ideas were flooding the land, drowning the old. The times were changing too fast for many to keep up with. They would be the ones left behind, but Eugene Belle and the fine and respected Clark family would not be among them.

THE END



OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!

Grab my new series, "Guns and Justice in the West", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!




4 thoughts on “The Widow’s Guardian – Extended Epilogue”

  1. I greatly enjoyed this tale. There was so much action and suspense, with a happy outcome in the end. The book is well written, holding a death grip on the readers attention, and extremely well proofed and edited without Grammer errors. I had to stay up late to finish it, unable to set it aside for another day. Well done!

    1. I found quite a few errors the proof reader obviously missed! Otherwise, it was a great read,full of action ans adventure!

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