The Nightbird's Song
A Novel by Josephine DeFalco
Following the unexpected death of her husband, Brenna McEvoy becomes a widowed mother of three young children in the Arizona Territory. Despite her privileged upbringing she must somehow find a way to survive and provide a living for her family. Brenna's only asset is her charming Victorian home which she transforms into a boarding house for local miners. Although Brenna is unskilled at managing a house full of men, she rolls up her sleeves to embrace the challenge. In short time her eyes are opened to the struggle of day-to-day living, suffering, and bigotry surrounding the working class.
In a small town, tongues wag quickly and tales spread quicker. Soon she finds herself on the side of unionizing miners. When she falls in love with a working man from another race and is shunned by her family and friends, she must decide to follow the rules of society or follow her heart.
The nightbird's haunting song reminds Brenna that we are strengthened by the struggles we survive, but will her resolve be enough to save her family?
Reviews
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“I found Josephine's writing style to be up there with the best of the famous authors. I couldn't put the book down once I started reading it...”
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“Great book! A wonderful Arizona west historical book that takes place in Bisbee in the early 1900's. The brave and strong woman Brenna, is a great example of the frontier woman of that time.”
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“...it was a great read because I am not much for historical books but the author combined creativity with history and created a very lovable and knowledgeable read, thank you for making Arizona History so easy.”
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“I really enjoyed reading this book—it's a book to savor; to wish it wouldn't come to an end. I hope Josephine will write many more books. Highly recommended!”
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“This story was one of those that goes deeper than just the words on the page (though it is extremely well written, too!). Set during a different time and a different culture, it really does the job of bringing you back through history.”
Excerpts
Mum lay on a board, naked as a new day. They were washing her with a cloth. Mrs. Browne left for a moment and returned with one of Ma’s black dresses. They finished dressing her and laid her down again. By now Ginny was tired of being quiet and ran off behind the house. Brenna should have chased after her, but she continued to watch.
They tied a white rag under Ma’s chin and over the top of her head to close her mouth. Then they closed her eyes and weighted the lids with two big coins.
“Where’s the rosary?” Mrs. Browne asked.
“I believe it’s on that chair, yonder,” Mrs. Whelan responded while nodding to a corner of the room. She had taken Mum’s arms and folded them across her abdomen. “I can’t get her fingers to bend,” she complained.
“Ah, no matter. Just put her rosary in her hand and she’ll be fine, God rest her soul. She struggled so hard to die.”
“Did Mr. Shannon get the saltpeter?” Mrs. Browne asked.
“I believe he’s bringing some from the apothecary when he gets back from town.”
She was standing in the doorway, the light shining from behind her, making her image glow like an angel. She gave him a broad smile, tilting her head just to the left, a curious expression of expectation on her face. He was filled with an overwhelming urge to kiss her goodnight, like a man parting with his lover. Instead, he smiled back and waved goodbye. What the hell was wrong with him? My God, he must be loco. That was it, the fatigue, the long hours drifting into the night. It could make a man crazy.
“If I tell you, you will say I am a crazy old woman.”
“If you don’t, I will know you are.”
“Manuel, I had a dream. No, eet was a nightmare, so frightening,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to think.”
“It probably means nothing. Maybe you were worried about something. What was your dream?”
She hesitated. “There was water, a river full of churning water. La Llarona, The Weeping Spirit, knelt by the water screaming for her children. Did you hear Jesus and Armando Montoya saw La Llarona just last week by the San Pedro River?”
“Marita, they had been drinking for two days.”
“Well anyway, I was afraid of her, but I felt sorry for her too. I walked toward her and reached out to touch her and then by God’s grace, I woke up. Manuel, eet was real. I was so scared I couldn’t go back to sleep.”