The Teagarden Trail

**Prologue**

Long before the sun had yet to rise to shine its glory in the far country about 40 miles from the city limits of Dallas, Texas, a cowgirl's day has already begun. Ginger started her day like clockwork; she did her devotions and drank her coffee while she sat on the porch swing she had on her porch as she admired the beloved lands of her ranch. Soon, breakfast had been finished and the few dishes cleaned and placed in the cabinets before she got dressed and headed outside to the dark oak barn where her horses were kept from danger at night.

Ginger hauled the large doors open to the barn and headed to the back as to start the feeding of the morning. Each horse had a special mix that was made for them and Ginger had them memorized to the portions; she then filled the water troughs as she gave each a kiss on their muzzle and called them by name. When she got to the front, she smiled broadly as she looked on her companion and main horse, Charcoal--a large black mustang whom she had connected with from a young age. " Mornin' Char, ya ready for our ride?" she asked as she unlocked the other horses' stalls and they thundered to the fields like a hurricane of hooves and manes. Charcoal nickered as Ginger tightened the saddle on his back and put the reins on before hoisting easily up into the saddle.

"Let's take the trails today, buddy," she commented as she clicked her tongue, indicating to go ahead.

Charcoal nickered and began a smooth gate out of the barn and down the dirt road towards the forest trails that branched off her property of sixty-five acres of the Teagarden Ranch. She entered under the canopy of the trees just as the sun rose for the artwork of the dawn. The pink, red and yellow dawn cast a gorgeous scenery of the forest around her: the birds started to sing and chirp their melodies, the wildflowers and trees glistened with the morning due that the leaves had yet to drink in.

The serene environment calmed Ginger's inner worry; her mother had been sick for as long as she could remember, the ranch needed a small debt paid off, and lessons she provided were few and far between. The man who caused the mother's illness was possibly going to get parole and Ginger bit down the bitterness that she had for him. How dare he do that, what right did he have to cause her family so much worry and sadness.

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Meanwhile, in the city of Dallas where her parents lived now, Clint Teagarden woke to the sound of his beloved as she woke in a coughing fit that made her body shake. Chasity struggled to catch her breath as she groaned; her husband was there beside her.

" Here, love, you need to take your medication." Clint murmured softly to the woman he loved as he supported her head and neck as she swallowed the pills and take a drink of water

She nodded and sighed heavily before she lay back down to rest once more while Clint got up and started breakfast for the both of them. He had to hold back wet tears as he thought of how she suffered so.
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In the darkness of the prison walls and in a cell, an older man around 51 but still as spry as his younger 20-year-old self was sleeping in the dusty bed of the small six by eight feet cement room; what else was there to do? He was Brian Willows, Chasity's father, and Ginger's grandfather. It was due to his crimes as a father and man that he had earned his place in this prison: testing, selling and distributing drugs upon his children, attempted murder against his wife, and threatening of innocent people.