Another part of the novel I am working on. A bit different from the previous section.
The stagecoach swayed back and forth as the oak wheels turned on the ground below. Mud and dirt shot out from the wheel spokes and a small bit of mire reached out and landed on Jess’s face. The mud felt cold and refreshing on her face. She had been leaning outside the wagon for air; at least that is what she told her father. A much as she loved her father she did not agree with his views sometimes of how she was to act. Her father being a very lucrative business man and always kept an order of things about him at all times did not want Jess to be anything but a lady. Having to celebrate her thirteenth birthday in the frontier with wagon masters and hardened miners and workers was not her idea of a good time, although she thought the West wasn’t such a savage place as the people thought back home in New York. With the war raging on between the states, she only knew of the times her father bathed her as an infant and how much he enjoyed her laughter. Now times are different, and with the success of her family business Jess was becoming more and more accustomed to the wealth her Father was creating with the help of the gold rushes and the excessive need for people to start a new in a new place.
The coach hit a hard bump in the road. The entire inside cabin shook and swayed so much that Jess clenched her father’s arm. Douglass C. Winnham eased his daughter’s fright by gently moving a strand of her blonde hair away from her eyes that was shaken loose from the wagons rocking forces. A tall and slender man he was with all the makings of a successful business man. His suits were always pressed and secured, his hair always combed in the most stylish of fashions to suit the day, and his grey mustache hung under his nose as if chiseled by a Greek sculptor.
His long wrinkled fingers were still strong. If anything his hands were the pride and glory of Mr. Winnham. His were the hands of a builder; a reminder of the days of old before his grand operations where he worked hard each day to survive. Waking up every morning before light came to help his father build his family’s house and later to build his own with his wife. Even Jess’s crib and all the house’s furnishings were crafted by Winnham. Growing up as a carpenter’s son, he knew and loved the feel and smell of wood. He ventured into all sorts of wood trades and quickly found the lumber business satisfying. After being married he started his business and became successful. Always in with the over seas trade with other counties which was what Winnham really wanted to be in near the time of his daughter’s birth. With trades with China and Russia and even England, he managed to create quite the lumber trade. Knowing that ships needed to be built along with houses and farms, not to mention the towns booming up with all those gold rush stories; Winnham knew it was right for the taking.