A Missouri Tale Pre-Stathood

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about one of my ancestors in colonial Missouri Territory about 1800. I will be releasing this one chapter a month.

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Jesse Dement

Submitted: April 25, 2019


A slow, cool, rain fell in late September and as the morning light began to break through the sky Jesse Dement emerged from the tiny cabin. He strolled across the lawn to the rough, oak planked
barn. He was not a great carpenter, but managed to provide shelter for the few animals he had and a cabin for his wife Maryanne.


As he approached the barn, a cool drop of rain fell from his hat and down his neck. He paused shortly to mumble a few unkind words and then continued to the barn. He greeted his black mare, Sally,
with a "good morning" and she lowered her head, shook her mane in reply.


Jesse went about doing his chores and stopped briefly to look at the babbies crib he had been working on. Maryanne would soon be giving birth to their first child and Jesse was to build the crib.
He selected a few cedar logs to make the planks and had been planing them for several days. Jesse finished up in the barn and stepped into the cool rain, something caught his eye.


Just north of the farm a figure on horseback sat motionless and appeared to be watching Jesse and the farm. Who could it be? Who would be out in the rain and what did they want?


He could not get a good lake at that distance, he knew they were not Osage. Jesse had no trouble with the indians, most of them were peaceful. They traded with the white man and had been able to
work in New Madrid. This was no Osage, but a white man.


Jesse entered the cabin and said "good morning" to Maryanne as she placed breakfast on the table. "I pray all is well this morning", she said. "Animals are well tended and dry", said Jesse. He
winked at Maryanne and then rubbed his forehead before eating his breakfast.


Maryanne watched him and wandered what he was not telling her. She knew something was bothering him.
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