When I began researching my Woolsey ancestors, I didn't expect to be so captivated by the story of a woman who, while not my direct ancestor, played a pivotal role in the trajectory of my family's history. Alice Woolsey was the first wife of my 3x great-grandfather Richard Woolsey, and her story haunted me until I had to write it. Though I don't know what caused her death, through the records of Richard's life, I can see the effects her death had on him.
"A Mother's Last Gift" is a short story set in early spring 1861 in LaGrange County, Indiana. Alice has been fighting what she dismissed as a winter cough for months, but now the bloodstained handkerchiefs tell a different story. As consumption tightens its grip, she faces her greatest challenge: preparing her family for a future she won't share.
Here is a little teaser:
The scorching August sun beat mercilessly against Alice's neck as she picked her way between the corn rows. Sweat trickled down her spine, dampening her cotton dress while the dusty breeze scratched her throat. The glass of milk sweated in her grip, threatening to slip from her fingers as she balanced Richard's lunch.
Her chest tightened, that familiar itch crawling up her windpipe. No, not now. She tried to swallow it back, but the cough erupted like cannon fire. Her body convulsed as each spasm ripped through her, forcing her to double over. The milk slipped, splashing across the parched earth. Only stubborn determination kept the sandwich from joining it.
"Alice!" Richard's voice carried across the field, running to her side.
Through tear-filled eyes, she caught Richard's concerned expression before her body convulsed with another brutal coughing spell. Eugene materialized beside her, gripping her shoulders with firm, steady hands. Anger surged within her as she twisted away from both men, her gaze fixed on the wasted milk seeping into the thirsty ground. Her own failing body had betrayed her again, and the rage at her weakness burned hotter than the summer sun.
Hot tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Damn it all to hell! This wretched cough." Her voice cracked with frustration. "Now look what I've done!"
"No use fretting over spilled milk," Richard called softly.
A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth, betraying her amusement at Richard's playful words. She noticed Eugene's shocked face and something inside her ached at his expression. In all his years, her son had never heard such coarse words pass her carefully guarded lips nor seen this delicate dance of affection between herself and Richard. His gaze bounced anxiously from one parent to the other, concern aging his boyish features far beyond his years.
Through Alice's eyes, we meet her family: Richard, her husband, whose growing obsession with Nevada silver mines she both understands and fears; thirteen-year-old Eugene, already showing a man's responsibilities; twelve-year-old Caroline, learning to manage a household far too soon; thoughtful ten-year-old Mary; the spirited eight-year-old twins Evangeline and Alfred; and six-year-old Alice, who collects buttons and their stories.
The story unfolds through Alice's final months as winter's grip on Indiana parallels consumption's hold on her. While neighbors withdraw, fearing contagion, Alice races against time to prepare her children for life without her. She teaches Caroline her recipes, shares family stories, and writes letters filled with the advice she won't be able to give in person.
But her greatest challenge is securing promises from Richard to postpone his Western dreams until the children are grown and to find a new wife who can help raise them. The story culminates in her final days, as she calls each child to her bedside for a last conversation, leaving behind unfinished letters and a collection of buttons, each holding a story of love.
Historical records paint a fascinating picture of what followed. After Alice's death, Richard seems to have spiraled, never quite finding contentment in one place. The stable farmer became a restless seeker, always chasing the next opportunity, the next silver strike, the next dream. Her death marks a turning point not just in Richard's life but in our entire family's trajectory westward.
"A Mother's Last Gift" is a prequel to my upcoming novel about Richard Woolsey's adventures in the American West. Through Alice's story, we understand the promises that anchor Richard to Indiana and eventually give him permission to follow his dreams. The book is a tale of maternal love, sacrifice, and the complex balance between holding on and letting go.
This short story will be released as a free reader magnet, offering readers their first glimpse into the Woolsey family saga. It reminds us that family history is more than dates and places—it's about the love, sacrifices, and promises that echo through generations.
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