Two men, two dreams, two new towns on the plains, and a railroad that will determine whether the towns—one black, one white—live or die.
Will Crump has survived the Civil War, Red Cloud’s War, and the loss of his love, but the search for peace and belonging still eludes him. From Colorado, famed Texas Ranger Charlie Goodnight lures Will to Texas, where he finds new love, but can a Civil War sharpshooter and a Quaker find a compromise to let their love survive? When Will has a chance to join in the founding of a new town, he risks everything—his savings, his family, and his life—but it will all be for nothing if the new railroad passes them by.
Luther has escaped slavery in Kentucky through Albinia, Will’s sister, only to find prejudice rearing its ugly head in Indiana. When the Black Codes are passed, he’s forced to leave and begin a new odyssey. Where can he and his family go to be truly free? Can they start a town owned by blacks, run by blacks, with no one to answer to? But their success will be dependent on the almighty railroad and overcoming bigotry to prove their town deserves the chance to thrive.
Will’s eldest sister, Julia, and her husband, Hiram, are watching the demise of their steamboat business and jump into railroads, but there’s a long black shadow in the form of Jay Gould, the robber baron who ruthlessly swallows any business he considers competition. Can Julia fight the rules against women in business, dodge Gould, and hold her marriage together?
The Founding tells the little-known story of the Exodusters and Nicodemus, the black town on the plains of Kansas, and the parallel story of Will’s founding of Lubbock, Texas, against the background of railroad expansion in America. A family reunited, new love discovered, the quest for freedom, the rise of two towns. In the end, can they reach Across the Great Divide? The Founding is the exciting conclusion to the series.
When the dance finished, Will took both her hands and gazed into her eyes. “I’ve been thinking so much about you, about how I wanted tonight to be. I wish we could float away together.”
“Perhaps after the dance,” whispered Mary as the band struck up a lively polka. Mary picked up her skirt with one hand and placed her other on Will’s shoulder as they whirled about the floor. They were laughing and out of breath. When the polka finished, the musicians took a short break and then played a waltz. It was a new one, "The Blue Danube.” Will and Mary watched at first, but he offered her a hand, and they began. She was graceful, knew how to pirouette, and Will took his queues from the other men, even doing a lift here and there. His heart beat rapidly with the exercise and the feel of her. It was only a few minutes, but it seemed frozen in time.
Another young man attempted to cut in on a later dance, but Mary claimed to be indisposed and went to find the privy. When she returned, she went to her father, whispered something to him, pointing at her maid, Miranda, in the corner, and then came back to Will. They’d been dancing for two hours according to the large clock at the head of the hall.
“Will, I spoke to Father. What do you say to a buggy ride? He said you could drive ours. Miranda can ride in the back.”
“I would love that! I’m out of breath, and it’s a full moon tonight. It should be easy to see. As long as we stay on the east side, we should be safe.”
Once outside, the livery man brought the Kings’ buggy and helped the ladies get in. The moon looked like a huge yellow ball peeking above the horizon, so close it seemed to Will that he could simply step from the earth onto its surface. They drove at a slow walk along Broadway, with Will looking at Mary and the river. Miranda was in the back seat. Will thought she was pretending to be invisible.
“Wasn’t that a fun dance? I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed one so much!” said Mary.
“You’re a very good dancer! I’m rather out of practice.”
“You did quite well for a cowpoke soldier. I hope we can do it again.”
“I’d like to do it over and over, forever. You’re the most beautiful woman. Dancing with you is like being in a dream.”
“It is exciting dancing with you. I enjoy getting all prettied up, like any girl. But I also enjoy less formal times, getting away from it all,” she said as they turned the corner to the right down Cochran Street. “I like fishing and long walks.”
Will pulled the buggy over by a tree. They were both quiet a moment, then Will asked, “Would you care to walk now? We could go down toward the river.”
“That would be delightful,” said Mary.
“Oh dear,” said Miranda. “I’m afraid I haven’t brought the right shoes for it. Would it be acceptable if I stay at the top of the path—not too far back, mind?” Miranda gave a conspiratorial wink.
Mary smiled. “Why yes, I think that would work.”
Will helped the ladies down, set the brake, and tied the buggy to the tree. He showed Mary a narrow path that led toward the water. Miranda stayed at the top of the path. About ten yards down, the land sloped more steeply toward the river, and Will offered his arm for balance, which Mary accepted.
“I love the quiet of the night,” she said. “I know some are afraid of the dark, but to me, it speaks of hidden possibilities, magical times to come. And looking at the stars never fails to show me the wonder of God.”
“It makes you feel special, like God took the trouble to design all that just for us to look at.”
She stumbled a little, her head dropping to his shoulder. He caught her, turning her toward him. Miranda was out of sight, though not out of earshot. Her head tilted back, and he lightly held her arms a moment, looking at the moonlight on her hair and into her eyes. He moved closer and bent to kiss her, first lightly and then, when she responded, with more urgency. He let go of her arms and embraced her. Her arms encircled his neck. He kissed her quick and light several times and then returned to a deep kiss until they were breathless. He released her, and her head dipped, but she still kept her hands on his shoulders.
“I suppose we should get back,” Will said, “or Miranda will think we’ve fallen in.”
Mary chuckled. “No need to worry. She won’t tell anyone. We have an understanding. But we do have Father’s buggy, and he can’t go home until we return.”
“When can I see you again? Your father mentioned going to see the land after church. Could you come? Maybe we could ride around the property together.”
“I’ll ask Father, but I can’t imagine he would refuse. If he agrees, I could bring a picnic lunch—and challenge you to a race!”
“A race? That wouldn’t be fair. Dusty has never been beaten. And besides, what would your father say?”
“Father suffers from the disease of many fathers: underestimating their daughters.”
