The Scarlet Thread

The Scarlet Thread Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: The Scarlet Thread Read Online Free PDF
Author: Francine Rivers
She came across the plains in a wagon in 1847. I
    was just glancing through her journal when you came,” she said,
    taking up a leather-bound volume from the trunk and brushing
    her hand over it. “I hadn’t gotten very far. Apparently, this was
    an assignment book and then it became her diary.”
    She set the volume between them on the couch. Sierra picked
    it up and opened it, reading the childish scrawl on the first page.
    Mama says livin in the wildurnes aint no resun
    to bee ignurant. Her papa wuz a larnud man and
    wud not want fuls in his famlee.
    “The trunk was part of Grandpa Clanton’s estate,” her mother
    said. “I haven’t gone through these things in years.” She lifted
    out a small carved wooden box. “Oh, I remember this,” she said,
    2 2
    T H E
    C A L L
    smiling. Inside was an embroidered silk handkerchief. She unfolded it carefully and showed Sierra the antique gold chain and
    amethyst cross.
    “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Sierra said, taking it and admiring it.
    “You may have it, if you’d like.”
    “I’d love it,” Sierra said, opening the small clasp and putting it
    on.
    Her mother took out an old tintype in an oval frame. The couple were dressed in wedding clothes, their expressions solemn
    rather than joyful. The groom was handsome in his dark suit and
    starched shirt, his dark hair brushed back cleanly from chiseled
    features and intense pale eyes. Blue, Sierra decided. They would
    have had to be blue to be so pale in the picture. The bride was
    very young and lovely. She was wearing a gorgeous white lace
    Victorian wedding dress. She sat while her husband stood, his
    hand firmly planted upon her shoulder.
    Sierra took out another box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper,
    was a small woven Indian basket with designs. Around the top
    edge were quail plumes and beads. “I think this is a gift basket,
    Mom. It’s worth a lot of money. They have them in the Indian
    Museum at Sutter’s Fort.”
    “Is there anything inside the box to tell about it?”
    Sierra removed everything and shook her head. “Nothing.”
    “Look at this old Bible,” her mother said, distracted. As she
    opened it, a section slipped free and fell onto the floor. Her
    mother picked it up and placed it on the sofa beside her.
    Sierra picked up the paper yellowed with age and read the
    pretty script.
    Dearest Mary Kathryn,
    I hope you have changed your mind about God. He
    loves you very much and He is watching over you. I do
    not know what hardships and losses you will face on the
    2 3
    T H E
    S C A R L E T
    T H R E A D
    way to Oregon or what will happen once you reach the
    end of the trail. What I do know is God will never leave
    you nor forsake you.
    You have my love and are in my morning and evening
    prayers. The ladies from the quilting club send their love
    as well, as do Betsy and Clovis. May the Lord bless your
    new home.
    Aunt Martha
    Sierra’s mother thumbed through the black, cracked leather
    Bible and then picked up the portion that had fallen. “Look at
    how worn the pages are.” She smiled. “Mary Kathryn favored
    the Gospels.” She took the note from Sierra and read it. Folding
    it, she tucked it in the loosened pages and set the Bible carefully
    beside Mary Kathryn McMurray’s journal.
    Sierra took out a decaying flowered hat box. She found a note
    on top saying simply, in beautiful black calligraphy, “Save for
    Joshua McMurray.” The box was full of animals, carved of
    wood, each wrapped carefully in a scrap of flowered calico or
    checked gingham. She unwrapped a fierce-looking wolf, a majestic buffalo, a coiled rattlesnake, a prairie dog standing on its
    hind legs, a comical jackrabbit, a beautiful antelope, two mountain goats locked together in fierce battle, and a grizzly bear
    standing on its hind legs, ready to attack.
    At the bottom of the trunk was a large package wrapped in
    butcher paper and tied with string.
    “I don’t remember this,” her mother said and slipped the string
    off
Read Online Free Pdf

Similar Books

Line of Fire

Franklin W. Dixon

The Heather Blazing

Colm Tóibín

Wholehearted

Cate Ashwood

A Baron in Her Bed

Maggi Andersen

With a Twist

Heather Peters

Stamping Ground

Loren D. Estleman

Unraveled by Her

Wendy Leigh