This is the whole thing thus far:
“Who’s the father, girl?” John Young spat the words at his daughter. He watched her mouth move wordlessly as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Without giving the girl time to collect her thoughts, he yanked her hair roughly, not letting go as he asked again. “Tell me! Who did this to you?”
Clara sobbed at the pain inflicted by her father, and threw her mother a glance in desperation. But her mother only shook her head and turned away.
“Answer me!” John screamed in her ear.
“B…Billy Miller,” Clara said. “Billy Miller is my baby’s father!”
“Billy Miller!” John ranted, finally letting go of the grip he had on Clara’s hair. “Billy Miller’s not worth the cup I spit in!”
“But I love him, pa,” Clara began, but she stopped when she saw her mother shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Billy Miller,” John went on. “Of all the boys to carry one with, you picked the most worthless.” John sat down shaking his head in disbelief.
“Whatever happened to that Cartwright boy? What was his name?” John asked.
“It was Little Joe,” Clara’s mother, Sarah, supplied.
“Little Joe Cartwright, that’s the one. Why couldn’t you take up with him instead of this low life Billy Miller?”
Clara couldn’t answer. She liked Little Joe, and had even attended a dance or two with him, but they never courted. Billy Miller, on the other hand, had given her lots of attention. She enjoyed being Billy’s girl, even though she knew her father would never approve. Now she was determined to be Billy’s bride.
“Oh, pa…” Clara started. “Billy and I are gonna get married.” There, she said it.
“Clara, that’s wonderful news!” Sarah said. “John, our baby is gettin’ married!”
“Over my dead body!” John snarled. “Billy Miller ain’t fit to raise no grandchild of mine. No sir.” He sighed heavily and mulled things over in his mind.
“One this is right, she’s gettin’ married. It just ain’t gonna be to that Billy Miller.” He looked at Clara’s stunned face. “You gonna marry yourself a Cartwright, girl!”
“But, Pa! Little Joe don’t wanna marry me! How do you expect me to get him to do it?”
“Ask your ma. She knows how to bag a man when she’s in the family way.” He grabbed his shotgun and left the house.
“Oh, ma! What am I gonna do?” Clara cried.
“Hush now, everything will work out. You’ll see,” her mother soothed.
“But, ma, what I done was wrong. Am I going straight to hell like that traveling preacher was talking about last month?” Clara began to wale.
“No, no, child, stop talkin’ nonsense. Now you listen here. All’s you need to do is pray for forgiveness.”
“But, ma…what about Little Joe? If pa wants me to marry him, then I’ll have to sin again, and lie to him. I just don’t know if I can go through with it,” Clara said, still crying. “Besides, it’s Billy that I want.”
“That’s one thing I agree with your pa on…Billy ain’t husband material. Little Joe Cartwright on the other hand…” Sarah stared off, her mind wandering.
“Ma, even if I wanted to go through with this, I hardly ever see Little Joe anymore. He hasn’t been to a dance since that gal he was gonna marry a few months back died. And even if I was lucky enough to run into him somewhere, what would I say? Everyone in town knows I’m Billy’s girl!”
“I’ll work itself out, girl. Enough talk, let’s get supper started. Go fetch me some water.”
_____
Several hours later, Clara and Sarah Young sat down to eat supper. They had waited as long as they could for John to return home, and finally decided to eat without him.
Clara picked at her food. She had no desire to eat, and wondered how she had ended up in this predicament. Her mother kept talking about how to get Joe Cartwright’s attention – by playing on his sympathies. It gave her a lot to think about. Just as she was about to excuse herself, her father walked in the door.
“Well, one of your problems is solved,” he announced to Clara as he seated himself at the table.
“What?”
“Billy Miller’s left town.”
“What?” Clara asked again, this time in a higher pitch.
John couldn’t help but laugh. “Here I was, gonna chase him outta town with my shotgun, but he’d already up and left. Heard he took that saloon gal, Patty, with him. I told ya he weren’t no good for you.”
“Oh! Pa!” Clara cried. She jumped up from the table and ran to her mother’s open arms. “Ma, what am I gonna do now?” she sobbed.
A knock on the door took the family by surprise. Sarah broke away from Clara and opened it. Clara saw the surprise on her face before seeing their visitor.
“Little Joe Cartwright!” Sarah boomed, “What a pleasant surprise!”
John jumped up from the table. “Little Joe! Come in, come in,” he said, shaking the young man’s hand.
Joe entered the home, thankful for the warm welcome. “Mr. Young, Mrs. Young,” he greeted. “Clara,” he added with a nod in her direction. The he saw that she had been crying. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time. I can come back tomorrow…” he started.
“It’s not a bad time at all, Little Joe,” John said. “What brings you out our way tonight?” He indicated a chair for Joe to sit down at the table, and he sat back down himself. Clara and Sarah went to the kitchen area and acted busy.
“Pa wanted me to come see you today. Sorry I got here so late. Time got away from me in town,” Joe began.
“Quite alright, Joe. I just got in myself a little while ago, so your timing is perfect. What can I do for you?”
“Well, we were hoping you could come out to the ranch next week and help us with some wagon repairs.”
