Cornucopia Press

Things Worth Fighting For

Coming September 1

…an old-fashioned story about growing up, finding your courage, and knowing which things are the things worth fighting for.

Summary

Nobody’d ever called James anything but a good kid—right up until the accusations started flying. Now his uncle has turned on him, and Betsy thinks he’s a creep. He’s got no reason to stick around.

Besides, the paper says that folks in Texas are fighting off an oppressive government, just like George Washington did. He could join up, and fight right alongside Jim Bowie!
Getting to Texas won’t be as easy as he imagines, though. By the time he arrives in Natchez, he’s been through enough to have grown up a bit. Just in time, too. He ends up deeply involved in the battles of the Texas Revolution, including the Alamo.

Things Worth Fighting For, the first book from Cornucopia Press is an old-fashioned story about growing up, finding your courage, and knowing which things are the things worth fighting for.

Publication Details

Things Worth Fighting For: A Novel About Freedom, Love, and Texas
by Frederick West
Available September 1, 2008
$34.95 Hardcover, 641 pages
ISBN: 978-0-9817174-0-1
LCCN: 2008926383

Excerpts

“It was in the Lexington Register last week.” James said. “The Mexicans passed a constitution just like ours, back in ‘24. Then Santa Ana came to power, and he plain tore it up. He’s running the government like they never had a constitution at all. The Texians are forming committees all over the place, trying to make him live up to the law. They are calling for a ‘Consultation’ to get together and figure out what to do.”

“Sounds to me like just a big mess,” Guy responded.

“But wouldn’t that be something?” James went on. “To help run the Mexicans out and actually be part of starting a new country? It said in the Register that even old Sam Houston has gone off the reservation to get mixed up in it.”

“Oh, I heard about him all right.” Guy laughed. “They say he’d just got re-elected governor of Tennessee, then up and walked out on his brand new bride and the State of Tennessee, both. I heard he went to live with the Indians.”

“That’s what I heard, too. But he showed up again down Texas way, after the uproar died down,” James said.

“Mor’n likely, he’ll get a Mexican bayonet stuck in his belly, just like the rest of ‘em.” Guy laughed.
James pulled Tess to a stop. “You don’t think the Texians can win, do you?”

“Nah! What’s a bunch of riff-raff like that gonna do against trained cavalry and infantry with cannon and bayonets? Nope, they’re just gonna theirselves killed.”

“I don’t know about that. Jim Bowie sure ain’t no riff-raff. I hear he can put up quite a fight.”

“Ha! Yeah, he might get two or three of ‘em with that big ol’ knife of his before they get a bayonet in him. But more’n likely they’ll shoot him from two hundred yards away, and never even notice he has a knife.” Guy gave out an artful laugh.

“Haven’t you got a sense of honor and adventure, Guy?” James asked. “Just think, those folks are fightin’ for their homes and what’s right. They’re fighting against people who broke their word and can’t be trusted.”

“Well, it doesn’t look that way to me.” Guy sneered. “Looks to me more like a bunch of ne’er-do-wells trying to get free land, then when they get it they’re not satisfied, and want to take over everything. It’s no wonder to me that the Mexicans changed their mind.”

“It doesn’t look like we’re gonna see eye to eye on that,” James said, shaking his head and signaling to Tess to get moving again. “I’d like to see the Texians get the job done.”

“Don’t suppose it makes any difference,” Guy said. “Ain’t neither one of us gonna be goin’ to Texas.”

“Nope, I reckon not.”

“Squeeze the trigger,” his uncle had said. “Don’t jerk it.” So he carefully squeezed, and squeezed. It seemed it would never fire, but suddenly the hammer fell, sparks flew as the flint struck the steel. There was a flash as the powder in the pan burst into flame, then nothing.

James stood for a moment in dismay. Smoke from the flash in the pan burned his eyes. Confused and disappointed, he started to turn around, but suddenly there was a shout from behind him:
“Git that muzzle back o’er the side!” The captain leaped the few feet across the deck and struck the side of the barrel knocking it back to direct it over the rail. James staggered, but held onto the gun and kept it pointing toward the river. A half-second later the gun fired, sending sparks flying up into James’ face.

“You got on my boat under false pretense, boy!” the captain shouted. “If you done some huntin’, it ain’t much.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” James mumbled.

“Well, you’re what I got. I’ll swear, boy, you’re gonna learn to handle that there rifle.”

Betsy took a deep breath, her heart hammering beneath her breast. She didn’t feel so brave all alone out here.

In the faint moonlight, a black square on the side of the barn told her someone had left the door open. From inside the tall wooden structure, the horse nickered again. Using the shadow of one of the wagons, Betsy crept to a haystack some fifty yards from the wide-open, dark entrance.

From inside the building came a sharp thump, like metal falling against wood. She saw someone, or something, moving in the open door. Then, an Indian stepped out into the moonlight. In his hand, he held an ax. He looked toward the house, and her heart raced as she gasped and drew back, careful not to make a sound.

“Look here, Austin,” Bowie said. He ignored Austin’s stretched out hand. “You and me, we just ain’t cut out to work together. I’m pullin’ out.”

“Now, take it easy, Colonel,” Austin changed his handshake gesture to a motion toward a chair beside his desk. “Have a seat there.”

Bowie chose a different chair and plopped into it.

“We need you here,” Austin lowered himself back into his chair and went on. “Your men look up to you. Hell, they’d follow you anywhere.”

“My boys want to fight the Mex, General, not you. They flogged them Mexican troops good last week, and did you say ‘Thank you’? No, siree. Not so much as a howdy do.”

“You can’t go off half cocked like you do. We’ve got to work together, Colonel.”

“Stop callin’ me Colonel! I told you I resigned. And if you don’t get out of their way and let ‘em fight, my boys are gonna disband and go home.”

“They can’t do that!”

“Oh, they can’t, eh? They’re all militia, and they’re all volunteers. That’s why they won’t have anything to do with that regular army you keep talkin’ about. I’m tellin’ you, if you don’t put somebody over ‘em with some gumption, they ain’t gonna stick around.”

“You’re right, Bowie. We are not going to be able to work together. You go on back to San Filipe and see if Houston can find something for you to do.”

“I’ll go to San Filipe if I feel like it, or Goliad, or wherever I get the notion. You ain’t tellin’ me what to do any more, Steve Austin!” Bowie’s boot-heels clomped across the tile floor as he left the room.