MY FATHER'S DAUGHTER

Now available for ordering. Click on this link to Amazon.com or you can order it from your favorite bookstore under the ISBN number 978-0-9743438-8-4 or ask your library to order a copy.

My First Pre-Publication Review!

"My Father's Daughter" contains all of the best elements of a great novel. The author Teresa Marotta immediately swept me into the intriguing adventure. Not only does it have an incredibly compelling, well-developed plot, with interesting characters, it also has scenes that will make you laugh out loud. I love a tale with a strong female heroine. This story not only has one, but two. It also has a sexy, strong-yet-caring male hero. In addition to a wonderful plot, "My Father's Daughter" has a strong thread about the importance of personal values running through it. This touch greatly adds to my respect for the hero and heroine, and definitely adds to the suspense. This is a must read for all fans of historical fiction. ---Reader Views

CHAPTER ONE

"...and there was John, running away from a black bear cub whose paw he'd pulled free from between two boulders while he was out hunting. The cub kept following John even though he tried to shoo it back home, but the cub wouldn't go. The next thing John knew the mama bear appeared, let out a mighty roar, and reared up on her hind legs. John's horse wildly panicked, dumping him on the ground and leaving him stranded. The way John told it, he ran for all he was worth and headed for the nearest tall tree he saw and scrambled up it as fast as he could. As an added degradation to his already damaged ego, there was a beehive in a hollow of the tree trunk several branches higher up on the tree he had climbed. He was literally caught between the bears and the bees." Thomas chuckled from the pulpit as he reminisced over a fond memory of his recently departed friend.

Thomas continued, "Now, this angry mama bear wasn't about to let John be. First she tried to climb up the tree to come after him but her huge bulk kept her from getting past the heavy lower branches between them, forcing her to retreat back to the ground. In her frustration she kept shaking the tree and roaring up at him, almost jarring him loose from the limb he'd been hugging so tight that his marriage vows were in dire jeopardy. And every time she shook the tree, the beehive got a little more active with angry disturbed bees buzzing above John's head. The hive was dangerously close to declaring an all-out war."

"The whole day passed without any indication that the bear intended to leave. She wandered off every now and then, but didn't go far, and always came back to try to shake John down. Whether the bear wanted John or the honey from the bees, that Mama bear wasn't leaving. John kept quiet and still in the hope that she would forget he was there, but it was almost impossible for him to do because he was continually swatting at bees that were landing on him, making them angrier and causing them to sting him more in the process. In the meantime, Jebediah came over from the stables and told me that John's horse had come back without its rider. Since my son Andrew often went hunting with John and knew his habits better than most, I immediately sent him out to find John, which he did."

Thomas, a thin balding scarecrow of a man, smiled at his friends and family as he continued, "The way Andrew laughingly relayed his end of the tale to me, John-the best outdoorsman he knew-had not only gotten treed by a bear and suffered multiple bee stings, but had lost both his horse and rifle in the process. When Andrew arrived to John's rescue he whooped and hollered while charging on horseback, effectively scaring the bears off. The mama bear and her cub ran across the meadow and disappeared over the hill. Andrew said that when John clambered down the tree, his face and neck were all red and splotchy with welts from bee stings and that John had never before looked so grateful to see him. Andrew relished being able to put his mentor into his debt for a change," Thomas finished with a chuckle.

"John Porter's entire adult life was similar to the fix he was in that day in the tree. He was caught between two worlds. I liken the bees to his life here in town as a part-time lawyer where he set about taking care of other people's problems and settling disputes. He was always there for his neighbors in need and never turned his back on anyone who came to him for help. I've often heard tales of John providing them with fresh venison or helping build homes for new settlers. He was generous with his skills and his time whenever he saw anyone in need. Columbia is where John's family and friends lived and buzzed about him as the bees had done, only with a little less sting," he added with a wink.

"The world of his bear was during the summer months when he took time off from his trapping and the law to travel into the Blue Ridge Smokey Mountains to do trading among the hidden Cherokee Indian Tribe. It was a dangerous territory he trod because of the occasional skirmishes that would break out between the Cherokee and scattered Catawba, but he loved the outdoors and trading. He and Andrew anticipated their summer trading all winter long. He truly lived his life caught between the world of the bees and the bears and he loved both equally."

"John was my part-time business partner and my best friend. We graduated from Harvard Law School together in 1864 and at the end of the Civil War in 1865 our fathers decided to relocate our families from Virginia to Columbia to assist in rebuilding the town after General Sherman burned it down. We worked alongside our southern countrymen while singing inspiring songs with everyone in order to help keep our spirits up. Columbia was also closer to the Cherokee for trading purposes, which John was pleased about."

"John and I were each other's best man at our weddings and Godfathers to each other's children. We were among the first lawyers to settle here after the War. John and his father did the hunting and trapping on weekends, and trading during the summer months while my father and I took care of our families and the legal work on the home front when they were gone."

"John was a very persuasive man in that he managed to convince me-a self-proclaimed man against 'women of class' working-to allow Amelia in our office," he chuckled. "She worked beside her father for the last four years as his very capable assistant. Then later he hired the widow Garrett so she could help support herself after her husband passed. John was not the kind of man to let my taboos against upper class women working stop him from convincing me to allow Amelia to help around our office. He was very proud of her accomplishments; especially for a woman doing work that I believed was meant for a college educated man."

"I want to conclude this eulogy by saying that when John died prematurely by a Catawba arrow, our town lost the best friend and most charitable supporter it has ever had. Our great loss can only be comforted in the knowledge that John is being welcomed by the love of God and by his friends and family that have gone on before him. He is now reunited with his son William, whom, as most of you know, broke his neck and died in his fifteenth year when he tragically fell off the roof of their home."

"We will all miss John Porter and our love and sympathy go out to his devoted wife Sarah and his daughter Amelia."

The year was 1893 during the newly inaugurated presidency of Grover Cleveland. It was a chilly April morning in Columbia, South Carolina and the church bells echoed throughout the valley as mourners seeped from the church doorway. Soon the horse drawn carriages were at the gates to the cemetery and everyone was standing by the freshly dug grave. The sound of the rushing water from the nearby Congaree River could be heard over the hushed solemnity of the mourners as the Pallbearers silently carried the pinewood casket from the carriage to the oilcloth spread on the ground next to where Reverend Smythe stood. After he said a prayer over John Porter's casket grieving friends lined up and said a silent farewell as they passed by one by one, leaving only a few close friends and family huddling next to the gravesite until they finally departed to their carriages and went home where everyone was waiting with food and comfort.

After the gravediggers had buried John's casket and the cemetery was completely deserted a lone Indian came out from his distant hidden spot behind the dense trees near the back end of the cemetery. He strode over to the gravesite and let out a loud wail of grief for his friend. He chanted as he danced around the grave and mournfully cried from the depths of his soul. From the sash tied around his waist, he pulled a friendship belt woven with tiny colorful beads and imbedded with small luminescent seashells. Then he knelt beside the freshly unearthed soil where he dug a deep hole with his hands and placed the belt far into the earth to be buried with John Porter, the man who had been a blood brother to him for many years. He patted the ground firmly to cover any signs of disturbance and quietly slipped back into the trees from where he had hidden.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

While Andrew built a fire and began cooking some of the fresh meat for their evening meal, Waya finished tying down the bear skin to take back to Keowee for curing. He kept the claws to give to his wife to make ornaments with and packed the fat for body and hair grease.

Amelia's mouth was watering from the wonderful smell of the cooking meat. Andrew added some potatoes and wild leeks into the pan. By the time the food finished cooking Amelia was more than ready to eat. She watched as Waya stood with his hands skyward and said, "Thank You, Great Spirit, for this meat." He then cast a morsel of the bear meat into the fire and prayed, "Great Spirit, partake with us." Andrew passed her the first plate and, not wanting to offend Waya's beliefs, she said a silent prayer of thanks to God before digging in. When she finished eating, she leaned back against the tree and breathed a sigh of contentment. "That was wonderful. Thank you. I don't know when I've had a meal that tasted better. It almost makes me forget how I met that bear," she smiled. "I think I'll go see how Shadow is faring."

When Amelia approached Shadow and stroked his nose, she heard a familiar nicker. Not believing her ears she looked down to the end of the packhorses and there she spotted Joe. "Joe!" she exclaimed excitedly. She ran to him and after hugging him she began checking him out and saw that he was in perfect condition. "How did you end up here, Joe? You ran in the opposite direction when you took off, and couldn't have run into Andrew. What's going on?" Puzzled, she turned and walked back to the campfire.

Andrew was amused when he saw her approaching. He'd watched as she discovered her packhorse and knew he was about to be caught in his deception. Leaning against the tree, he calmly waited for the eruption he knew was forthcoming.

Bewildered, Amelia asked, "Andrew, how did you get Joe? Did he veer in your direction when he ran off? And why didn't you recognize him after all those years of riding with my father? Why didn't you try to find out why he was on the trail?"

Softening the impact, Andrew tried to divert her and answered, "My father sent two riders after you and they found your horse heading back towards Columbia. Waya talked to them and sent them back with the message for your mother that you were fine."

Amelia stood there for several seconds just looking at him as things began to fall into place. Andrew could see the puzzled look on her face slowly change to anger as the truth came to her. "You knew I was there all along! You didn't return Joe to me and you were watching me!"

Suddenly Amelia threw herself at him with fists flying, pounding harmless blows to his face and chest before Andrew laughingly managed to capture her hands in his. She struggled and screamed unladylike obscenities at him as she fought and kicked at his shins. She was a wild woman and he turned her around, held her against him with her crossed arms over her chest, and waited for her to stop struggling. "Amelia, don't forget, you started this whole thing by being sneaky and following me after I told you I didn't want you coming with me. If you'll calm down and promise not to hit me again, I'll let you go and we can talk about this reasonably." Amelia's reply was a hard stomp on his foot and a sharp bite to his arm. He immediately released her.

"Ouch. That hurt!" Andrew examined his arm and rubbed where she had bitten him.

"Good! You are the lowest snake in the grass on this earth. I despise you!"

Andrew merely grinned and raised his brow. His calmness only infuriated her further. Amelia came back at him with her claws out. He grabbed her wrists and put them behind her back with one hand while drawing her body into his with the other. He bent over and firmly kissed her, releasing her hands to pull her closer. Arms freed, Amelia bit Andrew on his lip and then forcefully pushed herself back and kneed him in the groin just as hard as she could, effectively dropping him to his knees. She stomped over to her bedroll, laid down and pulled the blanket up over her head.

"Ka he," Waya laughed softly as he called her a wildcat in his native tongue. Still bent over and smarting with pain, Andrew threw his hat at Waya who ducked and laughed louder.