Читать онлайн книгу «Instant Prairie Family» автора Bonnie Navarro

Instant Prairie Family
Bonnie Navarro
HE CAN’T LET HER STAYWill Hopkins’s new housekeeper is the prettiest young woman he’s ever seen—and that’s the problem. Will thought Abigail Stewart was a middle-aged matron well suited to hardscrabble prairie life. Even if his young sons are entranced by her wholesome kindness, his only option is to send Abby back east.For the sake of propriety…and his guarded heart. Answering the newspaper advertisement was Abby’s chance of escape from her unhappy home. But now her employer has turned out to be a rugged widower instead of a widow. A marriage in name only will allow her to remain long enough to find another job. Or until a misunderstanding becomes the means to a second-chance family…


He can’t let her stay
Will Hopkins’s new housekeeper is the prettiest young woman he’s ever seen—and that’s the problem. Will thought Abigail Stewart would be a middle-aged matron well suited to hardscrabble prairie life. Even if his young sons are entranced by her wholesome kindness, his only option is to send Abby back east. For the sake of propriety...and his guarded heart.
Answering the newspaper advertisement was Abby’s chance of escape from her unhappy home. But now her employer has turned out to be a rugged widower instead of a widow. A marriage in name only will allow her to remain long enough to find another job. Or until a misunderstanding becomes the means to a second-chance family....
“I... What did you say your surname was?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Hopkins,” Will replied. The girl’s face went deathly white.
She pulled her satchel up onto her lap and started sorting through her things. Finally she pulled out a paper and handed it to him. It was the ad his mother had created to find him a housekeeper. The ad Miss Stewart had answered. But did that mean... No, it couldn’t be. The woman in front of him, who looked as if she might give in to tears at any moment, couldn’t be Abigail Stewart.
“You’re...you’re Miss Stewart?” Will said incredulously.
Tommy poked his brother. “She’s our new house?”
“Housekeeper,” Willy hissed.
She straightened her back and tilted her chin up to look the boys’ father straight in the eye. “Yes.”
Any answer Will might have given was interrupted by Tommy’s response. Throwing his arms around the woman’s waist, he squeezed tight while yelling out, “You’re our Auntie House!”
BONNIE NAVARRO
and her husband of nineteen years reside in Warrenville, Illinois. Their four children range in age from seventeen to eleven. She works as a medical interpreter at a hospital and a teacher’s aide in a middle school. She and her family attend a Spanish-speaking church, and everyone in the household is at least bilingual—including the dog! Bonnie attended Moody Bible Institute. While attempting to earn a degree in Bible theology, she successfully earned her MRS. degree, followed a year later by her MOM degree, thus ending her formal studies. She is a member of Voices, part of MyBookTherapy. Bonnie’s hobbies include reading, writing, knitting and hanging out with her family.
Instant Prairie Family
Bonnie Navarro






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you
and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.”
—Jeremiah 29:11, 12
My deepest thanks are due to my Savior and Lord. May He receive all the glory for any thing
I might ever accomplish.
I would be remiss if I didn’t give thanks
and honorable mention to:
Joanne, I blame you for empowering me
to believe that I could write a story someone else would actually want to read. You said someday you’d see me in print. Thanks for believing in me even when I wasn’t so convinced.
Betty, Dad, Martha and Terry.
You all took your time to read
and suggest corrections on different manuscripts.
I learned something from each one of you.
Cesar, Liz, CJ, Gaby and David—
thank you for letting Mom work on her book even when you wanted dinner/to talk/clean clothes....
I love you guys!
There are so many more who have helped me
on my journey to write—to each of you,
thank you and God bless.
Contents
Chapter One (#u8a6e1720-ea62-51d0-bc31-8f80bc04371d)
Chapter Two (#u10e2672c-21b9-5a25-85b3-8ad9b1a497b5)
Chapter Three (#uae353992-2068-58b2-8300-2f838eadead5)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions For Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Harlan County, Nebraska, 1881
Will scooped up six-year-old Tommy and called to Willy over his shoulder, “It’s time to go, son. The wagon is hitched and we need to leave so that we can get to the river before nightfall.” Will had left detailed instructions with Jake, his nephew, about the care of the livestock and what Jake should be doing in the next three days. Now everything was ready for them to leave—everything except his oldest son. Willy had dragged his feet all morning, and Will was quickly losing his patience with his namesake.
“Are we going to go get the new Auntie Shelia?” Tommy asked, his little face full of excitement. His eyes were the same color as Caroline’s had been—an expressive hazel that changed hues with her mood. Did the boy actually remember Auntie Shelia? No, that was impossible. Tommy was only three when Auntie Shelia had come to stay with them after her niece Caroline’s death. She stayed six months before she declared the West “too dangerous and uncivilized for anyone to hope to raise a respectable family.”
“No, Tommy, not another aunt. She’s our new housekeeper,” Will corrected gently, trying to find the right words to explain. “Miss Stewart is coming to do the cooking and cleaning and help you and your brother with your studies. She will be like a grandmother to you but isn’t related to you. She’ll be our housekeeper. Do you understand?”
Will glanced out of the window impatiently, aware of the sun rising high in the horizon. It must be close to nine and they had a full day’s ride to get to the river before dark. From the river it was only a little more than a two-hour ride and they would be in Twin Oaks with time to get cleaned up well before the train arrived tomorrow at noon.
Miss Stewart was due in on that train and he needed to be there. It wouldn’t do to have his new housekeeper step off into the small prairie town and not have the family there to extend their welcome.
Will hadn’t been all that set on the idea of bringing in a housekeeper when his mother had suggested it, but after several letters back and forth, he’d become convinced Miss Stewart was the perfect woman for the job. She was only one of a few dozen women who had replied to the ad his mother had placed in the Christian Ladies’ Journal who seemed to want the job for the right reasons. Most of the others were only thinly veiled attempts to trap a husband. Miss Stewart wrote that she was ready to move on from her sister’s home where she had lived for years, and that she wanted to settle in with a family who loved the Lord and where she could put her education and her gifts of cooking and cleaning to use.
Instead of answering his father, the boy yelled to his brother, leaving Will nearly deaf, “Hurry, we’re going to go get our new house.”
“Not house, Tommy,” Willy snickered, finally sauntering down the stairs. At age nine he felt he knew all there was to know about life and delighted in informing his little brother. “Our new housekeeper. She’ll probably take one look at this mess and make Pa take her right back to the train station.” He sounded almost hopeful. Willy was right about one thing—their house wasn’t likely to make a good impression. He and the boys would have to do their best to make up for that.
“Hey, that’s enough. Now both of you head out to the wagon,” Will ordered, setting Tommy back on the ground and glancing around his kitchen. The place had become messier as time went on. He had a bad habit of burning the oatmeal, and two skillets sat soaking in the sink were reminders of his lack in the culinary arts. One more thing Will had included in his instructions to Jake—make the place somewhat presentable before they arrived with the new housekeeper.
Will imagined a woman his mother’s age. From what he had read in her letters, her character seemed to be above reproach, and that was his main interest—that, and how well she cooked. Hopefully Miss Stewart could teach his boys some table manners, as well.
Finally, Will and the boys were in the wagon, moving along toward the river. The sky seemed so big and far above the earth and stretched out in all directions without any hindrance. The prairie plants, just having started to grow again after the winter, danced at knee level and waved on the breeze that kept the sun from completely baking both man and beast. Will was grateful for his hat. There were no trees to offer shade on the large expanse of prairie until they came closer to the river.
As he drove, he took in the breathtaking scenery. His thoughts turned to how majestic God was, having formed all this with just a word. Will didn’t need to be in church to be awestruck by God. Creation was enough to hold him spellbound and speechless. The boys asked questions and he took advantage of those opportunities to show them God’s handiwork.
After a full day’s drive and a good night’s sleep by the river, Will headed into town, glad to be almost at his destination. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way the small town of Twin Oaks had grown from just five houses in the middle of nothing a few years ago to a small but bustling village. New settlers seemed to be arriving all the time. People were still taking advantage of the Homestead Act that President Lincoln had signed back in 1862. The same law Will and Mathew had taken advantage of ten years ago. Will found a spot in the shade of the train depot and tethered the horses to the hitching post.
Their first stop once they were in town was the barber. He wanted to impress Miss Stewart—not scare her off. The boys had not had a haircut in more than a year. He hadn’t been very vigilant about combing out the snarls, either. Once everyone looked civilized again, the barber offered them each a piece of hard candy from a jar on his countertop.
Main Street was crowded—plenty of people waiting for goods and travelers off the incoming train. Back out on the street, he headed the boys toward the mercantile. Glancing at his pocket watch, he assured himself there was still time to pick up supplies before he needed to meet the train. Afterward, he could take the new housekeeper and his boys to lunch at the one and only hotel in Twin Oaks.
Standing in the doorway of the store brought back memories of his father’s store back in Philadelphia with all its sights and sounds. His throat tightened and he was surprised as a wave of nostalgia caught him unexpectedly. He took in the sight of wares stacked on wooden shelving and in barrels on the floor. Would his boys ever see his father’s store?
Pushing aside his sudden homesickness, he set to work, choosing supplies. Warning Tommy and Willy not to touch anything, he let them wander around to look at the toys and gadgets on display. Meanwhile, he bought some coffee, sugar and a few other cooking items women used to buy at his father’s store. He didn’t even know how to use most of them but figured maybe Miss Stewart would. He hadn’t savored homemade baking since Mathew’s wife, MaryAnn, had died. It would be a treat just to have someone who knew their way around a kitchen again. He would ask the new housekeeper if she had ever made raisin bread or bread pudding….
He picked up the small crate of raisins and made his final selections. At the counter, he greeted Josh, the owner.
“Good to see you again,” Josh said, tallying up the purchases on a piece of paper and then entering the figure in his ledger. “I haven’t seen you since you brought in your wheat last fall.”
“Yeah. I like to stock up when I get out. It’s more than a day’s trip out and I wouldn’t risk it in the winter,” Will rejoined. He wasn’t really in the mood to chat, but he didn’t want to seem rude, either. “Town seems to be growing.”
“It is. We’re getting more people every year. Are you going to be staying in town overnight or are you headed back?”
“We’ll be headed back.” Will was used to keeping his life to himself, but Tommy had other ideas.
“We gotta take our auntie House back to our farm,” the little tyke explained in his mixed-up way. The shopkeeper blinked at Tommy and scratched his head, but Tommy continued on without a break. “She’s gonna be a grandma to me and keep the house nice. She’s even gonna teach us stuff like how to be gent’men. She’s gonna be really nice—not like our other auntie, who was mean and yelled all the time….”
“Tommy.” Will was surprised at the last statement. Tommy couldn’t possibly remember his great-aunt. He must have been parroting something he heard from his older brother, or his cousin. But, no, it wasn’t likely Jake had said anything—the teenager wasn’t the type to tell tales. If anything, Will wished he was more in the habit of speaking up for himself. Willy, like his brother, had no such problem.
What did Willy remember of his great-aunt? Will had been too busy trying to keep the farm afloat to pay much attention to how the woman treated the children. He was going to have to do a better job this time. He wanted his boys educated but not at the cost of their being mistreated.
Once again, doubts assailed him—was he doing the right thing by letting a total stranger into his home? Maybe he and Jake could handle the boys on their own. But he’d given Miss Stewart his word, and she had packed up her whole life to come out to Nebraska. He had to at least give her a chance. Maybe he could let her stay for a few weeks while he watched how the boys reacted to her. Meanwhile, he’d pray about sending her back or having her stay. She might decide Nebraska wasn’t right for her after all. She’d hardly be the first to feel that way. In the meantime, there was no sense in borrowing trouble.
After all, he had been praying for this since last spring. God directed Miss Stewart to answer his ad and she would be arriving within the hour. Obviously God’s hand moved in this and had sent her here. Tommy and Willy needed a woman’s influence in their upbringing.
With that thought in mind, he prayed for wisdom and headed the boys out of the mercantile and off to the train station. The sound of the locomotive whispered on the wind as it came closer to town. Its whistle announced its approach before it even came into view. In just a few minutes, Miss Stewart would step off the train, and Will would see how right he’d been to bring her to Nebraska.
* * *
Within a few minutes, Abigail Stewart would be arriving in the town that was to be her new home.
The prairie looked so different from the rolling hills of Ohio that had been her only home for all of her twenty-six years. Nebraska felt as if someone had taken a huge rolling pin and flattened everything, leaving only waving grasses and flowers. Even the trees were missing. But the colors were vibrant as Abby watched the world pass by, and she couldn’t help hoping that they symbolized a bright, happy new life she’d have with the widowed Mrs. Hopkins and her children, free from Abby’s domineering sister and her brother-in-law’s inappropriate attentions.
How would she be able to recognize Mrs. Hopkins? She had never asked for a description before. She’d just assumed that she would be able to see something in the woman’s eyes that would match the gentle spirit and spunk Abby inferred from her letters. Now she wished she’d asked for more details.
Abby glanced around the stuffy passenger compartment at the other passengers traveling with her these last few days. The loud Erving family spread throughout the car. Watching them, Abby couldn’t help wondering what her own nieces, Megan and Hanna, were going to do now without Abby there to encourage them. They were beautiful girls, almost on the brink of womanhood. Would suitors begin to call on them soon? What sort of lives would they end up leading? And the rest? How would Harold get his studies done with Peter always bothering him? Would little Katie even remember Auntie Abby? The girls had promised to keep in touch, and Abby knew she would cherish their letters and the news they would share. She only hoped she’d have lots of good tidings to share by return post about her new home and the family she hoped would accept her as one of their own.
As the conductor opened the door to the car and called out, “Twin Oaks, Nebraska. Next stop,” Abby stuck her knitting into her satchel. She checked under her seat, pulled her satchel strap up over her shoulder and hugged it close. It held her letters, coin purse and knitting. Her heart sped up as she saw the town come into view. It was small and somewhat rough, as Mrs. Hopkins had warned her, but it looked fresh and exciting to Abby as she hoped that maybe she would find a place to belong to here.
As the train bounced and lurched to a stop, Abby tried to stand and found herself tossed against the conductor. Mr. Galvan had proved to be kind, making the trip as comfortable as possible for everyone. He regaled them with stories about other trips and the fascinating people he’d met over the past three years working for the railroad. The stories were a little marred by the man’s terrible memory for names, but were very entertaining all the same.
“Careful,” he chuckled, “you don’t want to get banged up right before you meet Mrs. Hooper.”
“Mrs. Hopkins,” Abby corrected softly, “and thank you for all your help.”
“It’s been a pleasure to assist you on your trip. If you ever need anything, you can always leave word with the train station. Maybe I’ll look you up in a few months...see how you’re faring with Mrs. Hoskills.”
“Mrs. Hopkins,” Abby corrected for a second time.
“Twin Oaks!” Mr. Galvan’s voice boomed, cutting off their conversation. He moved past her and stepped to the door of the car so that he could assist the passengers while they disembarked.
Abby clutched the seat in front of her, waiting until the last lurch of the train, and then followed the rest of the passengers to the door. She wasn’t sure if it was the jerky motion of the locomotive or—more likely—the nerves of meeting Mrs. Hopkins and embarking on this new adventure that had her stomach twisting. What a first impression that would make—to get sick just as she stepped off the train.
Taking in a slow, deep breath, she prayed silently that God would protect her and lead her to the right place. The smoky air from the train did little to settle her stomach, but her nerves calmed slightly as she closed her eyes and imagined God watching her step onto the wooden platform. It didn’t manage to go quite as smoothly as she’d imagined. Between the noises, the smoke and the bright sun, she tripped, lurching forward.
A strong and calloused hand reached out and caught her upper arm and kept her from falling. She blinked, finding herself face-to-face with a stern frown chiseled into a bronzed face, piercing blue eyes focused on hers. His face was shadowed by his straw hat, as if shrouded in mystery.
“Careful, miss.” His voice were low and gentle, surprisingly cultured for a man in ripped overalls, a faded black vest and a threadbare cotton shirt. He held a child in his other arm. The boy clung to his shoulders as the man stepped back and released Abby. Strangely, she felt drawn toward him. He made her feel safe.
“Thank—” Her words were cut off by the shrill of the train’s whistle and the belching of smoke that followed. The man looked past her, obviously searching to find someone else. It shouldn’t have bothered her to so quickly lose his attention, but he had seemed nice...sincere.
Now was not the time to consider her confusing feelings. She needed to look for Mrs. Hopkins. Maybe the woman would be waiting with a wagon over by the station so they could get Abby’s luggage off the train and head home. Abby made her way through the throngs of people to the end where men were unloading the freight. Seeing her three chests set to the side, she sighed with relief. She turned to study the faces of the people rushing around her.
Suddenly she felt very small and alone. What would happen if she couldn’t find Mrs. Hopkins? The thought had never even occurred to her until she stood watching the other passengers meeting with their families or heading off to the livery to procure transportation. Soon she was completely alone. Minutes passed, but there wasn’t a woman nearby who could have been Mrs. Hopkins.
She took a seat on one of the benches and prayed, hoping Mrs. Hopkins would arrive before she concocted a backup plan. The sun shone bright and the air stifled her very breath. It was hotter here than it ever got back at home in May. Her stomach churned, reminding her that the last thing she had had to eat was a greasy sandwich of scrambled eggs and some unidentifiable meat she’d barely swallowed down at daybreak at a tiny train stop.
Where could Mrs. Hopkins be? Did something happen to keep her from coming? Abby tried to pray, but the thoughts all got jumbled up in her head.
* * *
Will waited while a large family with a passel of kids piled off the train. A few men and a pretty, young lady who needed some assistance disembarking followed. Maybe Miss Stewart was having trouble gathering her things or had difficulty with the jerky motion of the train’s stop. Did she need aid to exit the train? Will hoped he hadn’t hired someone who was too feeble to be able to carry out basic chores.
“Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me if there are any more passengers getting off at Twin Oaks?” he asked the conductor.
“No, sir. Everyone’s disembarked,” the man answered. “Is there someone you’re looking for?”
“Our auntie House,” Tommy replied before Will could get a word in edgewise.
“He means our new housekeeper.” Willy offered the information before Will could intervene.
“Yeah, her. She’s old like our other mean auntie, but she’ll be nice ’cuz Pa’s gonna pay her to be nice and teach us lots a’stuff like how to be gent’men.” Tommy picked up the story, hanging off his father’s neck precariously to peek into the train.
“I’ll bet she saw the prairie and got off the train back in... What state is that where the prairie starts?” Willy questioned midsentence.
Taking control of the conversation before the boys told all of the family secrets, Will eyed the conductor again. “Are you sure Miss Stewart wasn’t onboard? She should have been in her fifties. She was coming to fill a position of housekeeper and tutor for my children. She would have been coming from Ohio.”
“Nope. The only woman traveling alone was Miss Stevens.” The conductor’s gaze followed the girl who had just tripped off the train, and he pointed toward her. “That’s her. She was going to be a housekeeper, all right—but for a widow woman...” He looked deep in thought as if he was trying to remember something. “Mrs. Hopple or Hope.”
“That young lady?” Will clarified.
“Yes, sir.” The conductor looked Will over from head to toe through narrowed eyes. “You had better behave around that young lady. She’s very special,” he warned in spite of his obvious disadvantage in height and build. Will looked down on the smaller man and wondered wryly just exactly what the man thought he would be able to do if the situation arose.
There was no reason to upset him, though. “I don’t doubt it,” Will said in a pacifying tone. “I have no intentions of bothering anyone. I just came to look for my new housekeeper. Are you sure she wasn’t on the train?”
“No, sir, I’ve been on the train since we headed out of Illinois three days ago. There was no other woman that came alone except for Miss Standish. I hope everything is all right with your new housekeeper. Maybe she will be on next week’s train.”
Will felt the stirring of annoyance, then something akin to anger. If Miss Stewart wasn’t on the train, she had just made off with five dollars’ worth of his hard-earned cash. He had sent her a ticket and asked her to let him know if there were any obstacles that would keep her from arriving on this train. There was plenty of time for her to have sent a letter or a wire. He knew that she hadn’t because he’d checked both at the post office and at the mercantile for any messages before coming to the train depot.
“Thank you for your time.” He barely remembered to be civil as embarrassment and frustration warred within him. What kind of fool must the conductor think he was?
“Let’s go get something to eat.” Will forced a pleasant tone even though he was simmering inside.
“But shouldn’t we wait for Auntie House?” Tommy questioned innocently.
“She didn’t come. She’s just like all the rest of the women. They won’t live out here in the wilderness and let the Injuns scalp them. She won’t come to live out here. Even our own mother didn’t want to stay with us here.” Willy shouted the last part and darted off, not paying attention to the wagons or horses on the dirt street.
“Willy! Wait, son! You can’t go running—”
He caught up to Willy two blocks away. The boy was hunched over, hiding in an alleyway with his face in his hands. Just before Will reached him, he let out a sob.
“Willy.” Will set Tommy down and pulled Willy into his arms, holding him tight. “I don’t know why Miss Stewart didn’t arrive when we expected her, but it’s all going to work out. Maybe she wasn’t the one God wanted taking care of you and Tommy. Or maybe she is, and she’ll come on the next train.”
Even as Will said the words, he realized he was too far behind with the farm chores to make the trip again in a week. He would have to leave some kind of message at the train station just in case. And if there was a next time, he certainly would not be bringing the boys with to have their expectations dashed to the ground.
“No one wants to live out here. Auntie Shelia said it and so did Ma. It’s a savage land with savages running around with no clothes on, killing people. I’m glad she didn’t come. She would have been mean just like Auntie Shelia. Women are just trouble. I’m glad we don’t have any at the house.” The boy straightened his shoulders and pulled away from his father.
Will wasn’t sure exactly what he should do. Willy’s speech just showed him how much he had failed his boys. His own mother was wonderful... It was a crying shame the boys hadn’t had a chance yet to know a woman like her—kind, generous and loving. But how could he possibly convince his sons of that if the only women they had lived with were women who had made life miserable at home? Was it time to think of sending the boys back to Philadelphia to be raised where they could get an education and where his mother could instill some appreciation for women into them?
“I know it’s hard to believe, but there are some women who are good and gentle. Like your grandma and my sisters, your aunts and then there’s Mrs. Scotts. You like her….” The boys did like Mrs. Scotts, and the other women who attended their small church. But with the busy lives these farmers’ wives led, there wasn’t much time for visiting with neighbors. They only saw them for a little while at church the one Sunday a month they had services. And that short amount of time wasn’t enough to really know anyone. Even Caroline had been pleasant enough to their neighbors for a few short hours at church each month. It was when they were home that her mood had changed.
He stood and took Tommy’s hand in his right and Willy’s in his left. “What d’ya say we go get something to eat now? We need to head back in an hour or so if we’re going to get to the river before nightfall. Maybe we can bag that stag we saw last night.”
Tommy happily started chattering about their trip back and what animal he wanted to hunt as they headed back down the main street to the hotel. Willy swiped at his face with his hands and then his nose with his sleeve before Will could produce a handkerchief.
“Where’s your kerchief?” he asked.
“I forgot, Pa.” Willy blew his nose soundly.
“I ain’t got no kerchief, Pa,” Tommy reminded him. “You were gonna give me one and then you forgot.”
“Sorry, son. We’ll get you a few at the house.” At least he hoped that there were still some hankies somewhere in the house.
A few minutes later, Will and the boys sat at a table in the dining area of the hotel, perusing the menu. “Pa, what are you going to eat?” Tommy’s questions never stopped. Without letting his father answer him, he launched into his own opinion of the food, what he wanted, and ended with another question. “Why don’t you cook like this, Pa?”
“Well, son,” Will hedged. “I guess some things I just haven’t learned yet.”
“Maybe our auntie House...I mean our Miss Auntie could do it better,” Tommy reassured him.
“Don’t you understand anything!” Willy yelled at his brother. “She’s not coming!”
“But I want her to,” Tommy whined. “I want someone to cook better than Pa and fix my clothes so we could go to the meeting with nice clothes like Jill.”
“Boys!” Will exclaimed, glaring at his offspring. He gave a short lecture on the right way to behave in public. Even as he was speaking, he remembered his father saying something very similar when he was young. When both boys calmed down, he nodded approval.
The waitress came and took their order, smiling and teasing the boys before she left. Comfortably plump, the woman looked to be about Will’s mother’s age. “Maybe we can ask her if she wants to be our auntie... How do you call it again?” Tommy quizzed his brother when the waitress left.
Before Will could stop the conversation, Tommy turned his attention to the door. Standing up in his chair, he grinned, pointing and then waving at someone who had entered. “There she is, Pa. That lady that you caught at the train. Maybe she’ll be our—”
“Tomas, sit down and put your arm down!” Will was about to pick both boys up and take them to the wagon. It was downright embarrassing that he had come all this way for nothing, and now the boys were making a ruckus here.
“But she’s here, Pa. She looks really nice,” Tommy whispered this time, dropping back into his seat but still staring at someone behind Will.
“I’m sorry, miss,” he could hear the waitress answering the woman. “We don’t have any jobs here. There are hardly any customers except on the days the train comes through. Why don’t you come in and have a bite to eat and maybe by then the lady you’re waiting for will come by?”
Since his back was to the two women, Will wasn’t able to see what happened next, but the expression on Tommy’s face brightened. Before he could stop his son, the boy shot off his chair toward the stranger.
“Come sit with us, lady. You look nice. We need someone to teach us how to eat nice and not like a bunch of wild hogs.”
Will turned in his chair and caught the surprised look on the woman’s face. She quickly disguised it with a smile. “Well, hello to you, too, little man.” She crouched down and looked into Tommy’s eyes while she spoke.
Will was taken by her soft, sincere voice. She sounded as though she actually enjoyed talking to the little boy. Will opened his mouth to call Tommy back to the table, but the words died before reaching his lips when he saw the rapture on his son’s face.
“I’m not a little man, I’m just a boy. My brother says I haf’ta be more’n eleven to be a man. He’s gonna be a man soon ’cuz he’s already nine,” Tommy informed her, holding out eight fingers until she helped him lift one more.
“That’s nine.” She smiled, ruffling his hair.
“I just got my hair—”
“Tomas.” Will didn’t know what to do with his son. He seemed bound and determined to get the whole town laughing at his antics. “Leave the lady in peace and come back to the table.”
“But, Pa, she don’t have nobody to sit with and we could learn how to be gent’men if she were at the table,” Tommy argued, taking hold of the woman’s hand.
“Tomas, you need to heed your father, dear.” Her melodic voice soothed some of Will’s embarrassment, and her eyes sparkled with delight. She straightened back up and led Tommy to the table without withdrawing her hand from his.
Reluctantly, Tommy sat down and let her go, but as she turned to leave, she suddenly turned back to look closer at Will. “Oh, my! You’re the one who—”
“Yeah,” Tommy answered for his father, “he caught you at the train. You were gonna fall on your face.”
“Yes, I was. I don’t think I had a chance to thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad you didn’t get hurt,” Will mumbled uncomfortably. It had been years since he was in polite company.
“Can she eat with us, Pa? Please.” Tommy pushed the issue.
“She probably wants some peace and quiet after her train ride, Tommy.”
“Yeah, you talk too much,” Willy whispered to his brother. Tommy’s face fell and he bit his lower lip.
“I’d love to eat with you, young man. You’re the most handsome gentleman who’s ever invited me to sup with him. I’d be honored, but your pa might want to have you boys all to himself.”
“It would be our pleasure to have your presence at our table,” Will responded, belatedly standing in the presence of the lady as his mother had taught him. “Please, have a seat, if you’d like.” Even as he stepped around to hold out the chair between Tommy and Willy and opposite his, he wondered what he was thinking. The young woman had just given him the perfect out and instead of taking it, he asked her to join them and endure his sons’ antics. Maybe it was just the idea of talking to another adult or maybe it was the worried look she was trying hard to hide from the boys.
“Thank you again,” she murmured. The waitress set a menu in front of her and soon returned with a glass of water for everyone.
“Well, my young friend.” She smiled down at Tommy. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. My name—”
“I’m Tommy,” he interrupted, “and I’m six years old.” He held out his hands and this time he had managed to get six digits to stand in the air.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Tommy.” She grinned and shook his hand as if he were a grown man.
“And you would be...?” She turned her attention on Willy.
Will did all he could not to stare at the young lady. Her eyes were a mix of green and blue and she smiled genuinely at his son. Her blond hair had been pulled back into some sort of braids and then wrapped into a bun. With the jostling about of the train and the wind, little spirals had escaped, bouncing close to her diminutive ears.
She couldn’t be more than eighteen. What person had sent her out on the train by herself? Didn’t they know that the prairie was full of single men? Many hadn’t had an opportunity to socialize with a lovely lady for months or even years. Where was her father or brother? What was she to do now that no one had shown up to the station? And who was so irresponsible to have a young lady like her come halfway across the continent and then not meet her train?
“He’s my big brother. He always tells me what to do. He’s sweet on Jill. So, what are you going to eat? Pa likes the chicken ’cuz we mostly eat venison and rabbit on the farm. I’m gett’n’ the same thing ’cuz it’s got potatoes in it. I think I like potatoes.”
“That’s very nice, Tommy, but you didn’t tell me you brother’s name.”
“I told ya you talk too much,” Willy muttered.
“I do not!” Tommy answered his brother with a glare.
“Do, too!”
“Do not!”
“Do, too!”
“Boys!” Barely keeping his voice low, Will intervened and frowned when he saw the young lady biting her lower lip. Was she trying not to laugh at the boys or trying not to show her discomfort? He had had almost all the humiliation that he could take for one day. “Behave yourselves.”
His warning was understood and both boys lowered their eyes. “Forgive us, miss. We don’t get to town very often and it seems we’ve left what few manners we have back home.”
“Don’t think another thing about it, sir. My nieces and nephews were always saying things without thinking them through first. I find your boys refreshing.” She smiled reassuringly at both boys.
“Well, I should try to start the introductions again,” Will stated, wondering why her smile made his stomach flutter just a bit. It must have been the hunger for his supper sending ripples though his middle. “I’m Will Hopkins and this is Willy.” He pointed to his older son.
“It’s a pleasure—” The young lady had turned to Willy, extending her hand to shake his, when she froze and turned stunned eyes back to Will. Willy stared at her strangely, his hand in the air.
“I... What did you say your surname was?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Hopkins, but around here we usually are very...” Her face had gone deathly white and she looked as if she was going to faint.
She looked too stunned for words, barely gathering herself together enough to speak. “I... Where is Mrs. Hopkins? Where is Francis?” she stuttered.
He hadn’t heard anyone call him that in years—in fact, other than his mother, no one called him that at all. He could feel himself flush, and tried to talk over it. “I’m, um... My father was... I’m Francis, Francis William Hopkins. I go by Will most of the time.”
“But you’re not a widow!”
A widow? Why would anyone think he was—
“I thought... My mother’s best friend was Frannie, Francis...and if you...if you’re... Why didn’t you tell me who you were at the station? You just walked past me and left me there!” The confusion on her pretty face gave way to obvious anger.
“How’d you know my given name? What are you talking about?” Will asked, curious and accusing at the same time.
“Your ad.”
“What ad?”
“The ad that you placed in the ladies’ Christian monthly pamphlet,” she explained. “I subscribe to it and in April of last year, there was an ad...” She pulled her satchel up onto her lap and started sorting through her things. Finally she pulled out a paper and handed it to him.
He only read the first few lines before he glanced back up to study the young woman again. It was the ad his mother had created to find him a housekeeper. The ad Miss Stewart had answered. But that meant... No, it couldn’t be. This girl didn’t look a day over twenty, and the letter he’d received had clearly stated that his new employee was in her fifties. The woman in front of him, who looked as if she might give in to tears at any moment, couldn’t be Abigail Stewart.
“What’s wrong, miss?” Tommy asked her, having come to stand next to her, his small hand on hers.
Will watched as some of the anger and frustration melted out of her expression as she looked down at his son. “I’m not quite sure of that myself, honey,” she answered, pressing his hand with hers. “It’s been a long trip and I have had a very taxing day. I was looking forward to meeting my new employer and her...his family. But this hasn’t gone at all like I thought it would.” She looked up from Tommy to glare at Will. “Especially the part where I was left alone on the train platform while your father walked away.”
“You’re...you’re Miss Stewart?” Will said incredulously.
She straightened her back and tilted her chin up to look him straight in the eye. “Yes, I’m Abigail Stewart.”
Any answer Will might have given was interrupted by Tommy’s response. Throwing his arms around the woman’s waist, he squeezed tight while yelling out, “You’re our auntie House!”
Chapter Two
“Housekeeper, not Auntie anything,” Willy hissed at his brother.
Abby didn’t know how to respond to that, so she addressed their father. “I came all the way from Ohio just to be part of Mrs. Francis Hopkins’s household. Now what am I going to do?” she asked out loud, not expecting an answer from him.
“But you’re not old!” Willy burst out. Abby tried to focus on the boy, but her head felt clouded.
“That’s right. You wrote you were fifty-eight.” Will eyed her suspiciously.
“I did no such thing. I’m twenty-six, as I told you in my letter.” How could he say something so strange? She had been a little uncomfortable when Mrs....er...Mr. Hopkins had asked her age, knowing that the posting had specifically requested a “mature” Christian woman, but she decided to be honest, deciding that if her honesty somehow lost her the opportunity to work for the family, it was because God was closing that door. When there had been no further mention of her age in the letters, she had assumed her new employer had decided that it wasn’t important.
“Here, I’ll show you.” Mr. Hopkins reached into his worn denim shirt pocket and pulled out a pile of letters that even from a distance Abby recognized. Her heart sank. There was no doubt about it. She had been corresponding with Mr., not Mrs. Hopkins.
He shuffled the papers and then scanned one, holding it out to her, his strong, calloused finger pointing to a paragraph. As she took it, she noticed that the page was watermarked and that the ink had run. Even Abby had to admit that the number she had written out did look like a fifty-eight.
“I’m sorry. It must have gotten wet. I did write that I’m twenty-six. I never intended to be dishonest or misleading.”
“I believe you,” he replied gruffly. “But I’m afraid that doesn’t resolve the problem. I’m sorry if there was a miscommunication, Miss Stewart, but I was specifically looking for a, um...” He looked uncomfortable as he searched for the right wording. “A more mature woman. Someone closer to the age of my mother.”
“Well, I’m not the age of your mother, but I can cook, clean and teach as well as anyone twice my age.” Suddenly, staying here and keeping the job was important to her. If Mr. Hopkins withdrew his offer, where else could she go? She couldn’t go back to Ohio. Emma and Palmer would never welcome her back, and if she went anywhere close by, they would make life impossible for her and anyone who was daring enough to help her. No. She had to find a way to stay out here in Nebraska. And since jobs for women in the area seemed to be scarce, her best chance was to convince Mr. Hopkins that she could be his housekeeper after all.
“I don’t doubt your capacity, miss. It’s just that on the farm it’s just me, the boys and my nephew, Jake. It wouldn’t be proper or right for us to have you out there with us, a single woman of your age. I’ll take care of paying your passage back to Ohio and then you can be with your sister again.” His words were meant to be reassuring but elicited the opposite effect.
“I can’t go back,” she whispered to herself. This was worse than not being picked up at the station. Before, she had wondered if something had interfered with Mrs. Hopkins’s arrival, but now she knew she had been judged unwanted again.
“Why not? Did something happen to your sister?”
“My brother-in-law...” She almost spilled out everything but then remembered the boys listening. Straightening her back, she lifted her chin. “I can’t. I’ll have to look for work around here.”
“I doubt there will be very much in the way of work for a decent woman.” He studied her for a moment more and then shook his head. “Why did you even apply to come out on the frontier at your age? You should be looking to settle down and marry. Have a bunch of kids of your own.”
He had no idea how she’d longed for that—a husband and children, a home of her own. But there had been no chance of that. No man in Ohio had any interest in a girl who wore her sister’s old castoffs and was too busy minding her nieces and nephews and looking after the housekeeping to go to any social events. This was the only way for her to leave her sister’s house—to find a job somewhere else. What would she do if that chance was taken away?
“I’m sure that once you get back to Ohio, some young man will be real glad to see that you’ve come back where you belong. And no doubt your family will be glad to have you home, too.”
“I wish it were that simple,” she answered. “I have lived with my sister and brother-in-law since my parents died when I was thirteen. My brother-in-law is very powerful... I can’t go back now that I left against their wishes.”
“So you disobeyed your sister and brother-in-law to come out here?”
“Yes. I came because...” She glanced at the boys and bit her lip. “I had to get away from Palmer—my brother-in-law. I didn’t feel quite...safe living with him anymore,” she finally finished, hoping he would understand what she had left unsaid. “But my sister, Emma, felt that I had a responsibility to stay and continue to take care of the house and the children. The day your last letter came to the house, Emma found it and I had to snatch it from her or I would never even have gotten the money or ticket. I ran all the way to my pastor’s house, and he and his wife helped me get away. I even have a letter from Pastor Gibbons for you...or at least it was to be given to Mrs. Hopkins.”
She reached down and once again sifted through the different letters until she found what she was looking for and handed it over to Mr. Hopkins. As she watched him unfold it, she felt dizzy. What if he still decided to send her back? What was she going to do?
“Have you made your choice?” The poor waitress was back, pad of paper in hand.
“Um...”
“Why don’t you try the chicken like me?” Tommy prompted.
“Or she could try the steak that I’m gonna get,” Willy suggested.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She didn’t really feel like eating anything and was afraid that food wouldn’t stay in her churning stomach even if she could swallow past the huge lump of fear wedged in the middle of her throat. She took a sip of her water and willed it to stay down. “I guess I’m not really that hungry right now. It does all sound so good, but—”
“Don’t worry about the money,” Mr. Hopkins interrupted with a deep frown on his face, his eyes not even lifting for the first page of the letter. “I’ll cover it. It’s my fault, after all, that you’ve come all this way for nothing.”
Suddenly Abby knew that she had to get outside and breathe some fresh air. Her stomach threatened revolt. Even with the letter from Pastor Gibbons in his hand, the man was going to refuse to hire her.
Without explaining anything to anyone, she bolted from the room, out the door and around the side of the building. She was almost to the back of the clapboard restaurant when she couldn’t keep her stomach from emptying any longer. For the first time in her life, she wished she had died with her parents. What was to become of her? She was truly alone in this world—and in this strange and unfamiliar town. Back home, the sky had been high and the hills had surrounded her, but she had not known the immenseness of God’s creation until she sat hour after hour and watched prairie grass wave to an endless clear sky. She was a small speck on a wide-open prairie and only God cared she even existed. No wonder King David had asked, What was man that God was mindful of him? She was as insignificant as a stalk of the prairie grass.
“Oh, God, What am I going to do now?” she cried. The sobs that racked her body were almost as painful as the retching. She leaned her forearms against the clapboard wall and hung her head between her elbows. She didn’t even feel the coarseness of the building scratching her arms. Closing her eyes she prayed for a home. Somewhere to go where she could rest—where she could feel safe. She had traveled more than a thousand miles thinking she found a new home only to find it was the biggest mistake of her life.
* * *
Will sat staring at the spot the girl...Miss Stewart, had just vacated. He almost hoped that this was just a bad dream and he’d wake up any minute now to find that he was still camping down by the river on his way into Twin Oaks to pick up his new housekeeper. But Tommy’s little hand pushing on his shoulder, trying to get him to pay attention to yet another barrage of questions, made him aware this was all too real. The new housekeeper was a young, beautiful girl who looked as if a stiff wind could carry her off. She wouldn’t last a week on the frontier.
“Pa, where’d she go?” Tommy asked, his confusion making Will regret even more having started all this craziness. Surely he and Jake could handle the boys on their own just as they had done in the past. Maybe he would not plant in the western field he had cleared last month. He would still make a profit, though not as much as he had hoped. Still, that sounded better than adding more chaos and anxiety to his boys’ lives.
“Pa!” Tommy’s hand pounded harder and Will finally focused on his small son.
“I don’t know where she went. Maybe she needed to get a breath of air.” What did he know about women anymore? He’d been a failure at being a husband, and it had been more than ten years since he had seen his own mother or sisters.
“Um, sir?” The waitress was back again. This time she had two plates full of mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, chicken and broccoli. The third had a large steak and a baked potato with the same side vegetables. “I have your meals.”
She set a plate in front of each of them and then leaned a little closer to him. “Is the young lady all right? Will she be joining you again?”
Will groaned and closed his eyes. That was the question, wasn’t it? Would she be joining them on their trip back to the farm, or would he send her back to Ohio? The sliver of the letter he had been able to read stated the pastor’s approval. According to the pastor, Miss Stewart was an upstanding Christian girl, well respected by the other members of the church where she had attended since she had been little. The pastor indicated that he had known her parents and wanted to make sure she was arriving to a Christian home where she would be protected and respected. It had confirmed what Will surmised about her from her letters.
The only problem was her age—how could he bring a young woman to live with them? True, they wouldn’t be completely alone, thanks to Jake and the boys, but it still didn’t seem proper. Yet it hardly seemed proper to abandon a young woman in a strange town, either.
“Oh...all right!” He gave in to his guilty conscience. He needed to go search her out and see what solution he could offer. It was getting later in the day and he still needed to be back to the river by nightfall. “Can you keep an eye on my boys for a minute?” he asked the waitress, wondering what he could possibly do to make this situation better for everyone.
“We’ll be just fine here, right, boys? I remember when mine were this size.” The waitress smiled at Tommy and Willy and then nodded to Will.
Maybe he could ask Mrs. Scotts to let Miss Stewart stay on their homestead. The Scotts were his closest neighbors, and Mrs. Scotts had always struck him as a kind woman. He played with that idea as he left the building and blinked in the afternoon sun. Once his eyes adjusted, he turned and followed the forlorn sound of someone sobbing. When he found her, she was leaning against the building, crying so hard she looked on the verge of collapse. She was the picture of distress and disillusionment. Knowing he had created this big mess, causing her so much misery, struck him like a sucker punch to his stomach.
He had prayed and sought God’s guidance each step of the process that had brought her here. Mother had started everything when she suggested he advertize for a housekeeper last spring. Being that it was her idea, he’d asked his mother to write his ad and get it placed in a good Christian publication. Miss Stewart’s copy was the first he had seen of the original ad. He never even dreamed she had used his given name—Francis, the name he had grown to hate as a boy growing up. Miss Stewart was not the first person to think it a woman’s name. How could it have gone so terribly wrong? Now the poor girl was in a strange place with no one to count on and nowhere to go.
God, I need a little help here, he prayed as he approached, wondering what he could possibly say.
“Um, Miss Stewart?”
She jerked around so quickly that she almost fell. Her pallid face looked as if she had powdered it with flour. Even her lips looked gray. Her red nose and red-rimmed eyes contrasted her lack of color.
She spun away from him just as quickly and her stomach heaved again, although she brought nothing up. A sob escaped her throat and ripped his heart in half. He stepped closer. Supporting her elbows with his hands, he felt her body shaking.
He felt an unaccustomed surge of protectiveness. He wanted to help this girl, shield and protect her from any source of pain. But right now he was the cause of her distress. What could he say or do to make that right?
* * *
Abby had thought the day couldn’t get any worse when she fled the restaurant, but apparently she was wrong. Now he was here watching her toss up her accounts. How embarrassing.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stewart. I wasn’t expecting you to be... I had thought... I’ve made a mess of this.”
His hands still supported her elbows and he sounded truly contrite, but what could she say? It was all right? That it was understandable after he had brought her all this way into the middle of nowhere that he was going to abandon her and leave her with nothing?
The nightmare didn’t seem to be ready to end. Silence stretched out and neither one knew how to break the uncomfortable tension. At least her stomach had settled to resemble a simple storm instead of a full-blown sea squall.
“Listen, I admit this is a mess.” He stated the obvious. If Abby hadn’t been so tense, she might have seen a bit of humor in that. Right now she didn’t have the energy to be amused.
“Really!” She speared him with a pointed look.
“I’m... Why don’t we go back and sit down? Maybe if you eat something...”
“It’ll come right back up,” she mumbled before he even finished his idea. “All I want is to go home...to have a place to go and lie down, a place that’s safe, where I belong.”
The last word caught in her throat. A place to belong and to be loved—it was what she had been searching for a long time. Her fight drained out of her as quickly as her ire had ignited. What was she doing, telling this man her heart’s desire?
“Um... I was thinking. I’ve got neighbors a few miles away who might be willing to let you stay with them while you work for us. At least until we can come up with another solution.” He paused and then asked abruptly, “Do you know how to ride a horse?”
Abby swallowed hard. He was offering her an option. Granted it wasn’t much of an option since it depended on this other family agreeing, but it was a better option than nothing. Clearly he wasn’t planning for her to stay permanently since he’d hardly want her imposing on his neighbors for very long, but at least she would have a place to stay for a few days. She nodded, afraid to say anything.
“We’ve got an extra horse that you could take each day….” He was already planning, but Abby couldn’t suppress a shudder. Did he expect her to ride the prairie for a few miles on her own each morning and night? Would it be safe? “We’ll work something out, at least until harvest. The winter months we spend closer to the house and I can see to the boys. In the meantime, I’ll write to my mother….”
He continued to talk, but she was having a hard time concentrating.
“Well?” he asked, obviously waiting for her to respond.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She almost sank to the ground in exhaustion. The entire trip was now taking its toll. From the moment she had received his letter and realized she was finally free of her sister and brother-in-law, she had slept very little, first packing and then traveling by coach and finally by train for the last week. A woman alone, she only dared to catch catnaps and felt so vulnerable. She had assumed that once she had arrived, everything would be calm and she would be shown her room and be able to rest—not sit for almost an hour in a strange town with no one looking for her and then discover that her job itself might fall through.
“I think you need to get in, out of the sun, and rest. Shall we?” Without waiting for her to answer, he slipped an arm around her waist and half walked, half carried her to the front of the building.
“Mr. Hopkins, I can do this on my own,” Abby declared as firmly as she could in her shaky voice. She couldn’t afford to leave him with the impression that she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself, much less do her work. She swiped at the tears on her face and groaned inwardly. Her face must be a sight, all red and puffy.
“All right,” he acknowledged, releasing her waist and tucking her arm around his like a perfect gentleman, turning them both toward the front door.
Abby firmly tapped down the hope that things were going to work out. It would be doubly devastating for her to start feeling as if she fit in and then have to pack up and leave. But the way Mr. Hopkins opened the door for her, led her back to the table and pulled out her chair, she felt certain she would be safe with this gentleman farmer.
The boys had both been eating their food, but when they saw their father lead Abby back inside, their eyes lit up and Tommy started his barrage of questions. “Is she okay? Will she come home with us? Are you gonna ask for your food now? Is she still sick? Do you want to try some of mine?”
“Tommy, she’s not gonna come to our house ’cuz Pa made her cry,” Willy hissed at his brother.
“Well, boys. We’ve talked and Miss Stewart is going to come with us for a while. I’ll see if the Scotts can let her stay with them until we can make some other arrangements.”
Abby nodded her head, but even that slight motion sent everything spinning. She just wanted to lie down somewhere quiet and sleep. The waitress came back with a teapot. Before Abby realized what she was doing, the waitress had poured a cup and then sweetened it with a sugar cube that she had plucked from the sugar bowl in the center of the table. The boys’ eyes grew large when they saw what treat was concealed in the bowl.
“This might help settle your stomach, miss.” The matronly lady spoke softly, placing the cup and saucer in front of Abby. “Why don’t you try a few sips at a time? It’s chamomile—it always helps me feel better when I’ve had a rough day.” She smiled and patted her shoulder, reminding Abby of Mrs. Gibbons, the reverend’s wife from back home. Abby wished that she could let the older woman coddle her a bit more. She managed to keep the tea down and drank yet another cup before the boys became too restless.
She hoped it would be enough to give her strength for the trials that lay ahead.
* * *
What had he gotten himself into? Will wondered to himself for the hundredth time as he drove the wagon back toward the homestead. They’d stop tonight at the river. He and the boys could camp out under the stars and Miss Stewart could sleep in the wagon. Getting home and dropping her off at the Scotts’ house on the way would be the easy part.
The Miss Stewart he’d imagined had been a sturdy, solid woman who knew her own mind when she said she was unafraid of the challenges of prairie life. This beautiful, delicate girl was another matter altogether. For now she seemed determined to give the job a try, but how long would that last? How long would he have—weeks, maybe a month or two—before she realized that Nebraska was a place where no young woman could ever want to be?
There was no convincing her of that now, of course. She’d have to see it for herself. Until then, perhaps Miss Stewart could help Willy to be more sociable. Maybe she could train Tommy not to say just anything that came to mind—or maybe not. He hoped she could feed them something more substantial than what he normally managed to burn or leave half-raw. Maybe she could get some meat on their bones and make his house feel more like a home... Or maybe he’d just invited trouble to make itself comfortable at his dinner table.
Not that she would be that much trouble. She seemed well educated and her letters bespoke of a nice girl, but to have a beautiful, single, unattached woman out in the middle of the prairie full of single men, all looking to settle down and start families in a place few women would venture... He might just have opened the door to a whole lot more than a housekeeper. Since he employed her, he would be responsible for her safety and reputation, and he’d also have to ensure that she didn’t make any decisions she’d later regret. She seemed so set on not returning to Ohio that she might fall into marriage with one of the local men. He’d do everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen. She needed to be free to leave the prairie whenever she chose—the choice that Caroline had never had.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her shift around to look over the landscape. He studied her profile. What must she be thinking? Was she asking herself what she had just gotten herself into, as well? The wind had pulled tendrils of hair out from her pins and he was sure that if she hadn’t been so tired from her travels, she would have been trying to control the mass of corn silk better.
Stealing a glance at her sitting at his side on the wagon bench, he pondered how to explain their route. “Listen,” he started, trying to broach the subject, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Our homestead is not very close to Twin Oaks. In fact, it’s more than another six hours’ ride from here, so we’ll be stopping at the river to spend the night.”
He turned his eyes back to the road, feeling her stiffen next to him. Her words still echoed in his head, the way she had said that she wanted to “Go home... To have a place to go and lie down.” He would have let her stay at the hotel tonight and headed out at first light, but that would have meant he wouldn’t get her to the Scotts’ until late in the night and then it would be too late to get home. Jake would be on his own for five days. It was too much to ask the boy.
“I can sleep with the boys out under the sky and you can have the wagon all to yourself. I know it’s not the hotel or anything fancy, but by tomorrow night, you’ll be bedding down at the Scotts’ house. Mrs. Scotts will take real good care of you and make sure you get the rest you need after this long trip.”
The line of saplings and small trees at the edge of the river came into view. “See those trees?” He pointed to the horizon.
“Hmm.”
“That’s the river. We’ll be there in just a few more minutes.”
* * *
Once they had arrived at the river, he helped her down from the seat and held her upright until her legs stopped shaking and supported her weight. Acting the consummate gentleman, he didn’t even look angry. Abby couldn’t say if it was the fear of what her future held or the long ride that had her shaking so bad.
“Why don’t you walk around here by the wagon for a minute and get your land legs back? The boys and I will go and check that there’s nothing around to bother you and then you can freshen up down by the river.” His words were soft and she felt protected. Maybe her first impressions had been correct. He made her feel safe.
Within a few minutes, Tommy ran back to her. “We made lots of noise so no critters would come out and scare you, Auntie House.” She followed hesitantly, finding Mr. Hopkins and Willy in a small clearing with a sandy bank sloping into the river.
“We’ll go and set up camp now, Miss Stewart. You should be perfectly safe here. We’ll stay out of sight, but all you have to do is give a yell and we’ll come running,” the man reassured her as soon as she came into the clearing. As they left, she heard Tommy whine about having to wait for a swim, but she was glad they were gone for a minute. The water looked so cool and refreshing.
When Abby ventured back to camp afterward, she found a small tent erected and a fire started. The boys sat on both sides of Mr. Hopkins and were watching as he cooked some sort of meat.
“Hi, Auntie House,” Tommy called out, hopping up and running toward her. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes, thank you, Tommy. But can I ask you a favor?” she questioned, squatting down to be at eye level with the boy. His chest puffed out a little and he nodded solemnly. “Can you call me Auntie Abby?” Even as she asked, she glanced at Mr. Hopkins and cringed inwardly, wondering if it would be all right with him. “My nieces and nephews call me Auntie Abby and I’d feel better if you called me that instead of Auntie House.”
“Sure. You’re going to be a much better auntie than our old one. She was mean.”
“Well, I’ll do the best I can.” She tried to cover her surprise as smoothly as she could.
“Now, Tommy, we need to talk nicely about Auntie Shelia. Remember what I told you?” Mr. Hopkins’s voice brought her head up quickly.
Tommy stood and thought for a minute and then his eyes lit up. “Always say please and thank you?”
“Well, yes, that, too. But I meant about talking about other people,” Mr. Hopkins hinted.
“He means that ‘if you can’t say nothin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all,’” Willy piped up.
“My mother used to say the same thing. I think that’s good advice,” Abby encouraged. “So, what are you men cooking over there? It sure smells good.”
Abby went closer to the fire and watched Mr. Hopkins struggle to flip the meat in the fry pan without getting too close to the fire. “What can I help with?” she offered. If they had been in a kitchen she would have set a table or taken over the cooking. She felt completely out of her element out on the prairie with three strangers.
“Careful of the flames, miss.” Mr. Hopkins’s voice shook her from her musing. “We don’t want your skirt to catch on fire.”
“I...” She blushed. She should know better. “Thank you.”
“Pa’s making venison steaks. He got the lady to give him some bread. Now we can eat like kings.”
Tommy’s little hand found hers and he tugged her to follow him. “Look over here. The deer and the raccoons and even the foxes and coyotes come to drink at the river at the time the sun goes to bed, so we figure we’re gonna bag us a great big one,” he boasted, his chest puffed out and his eyes bright with excitement.
“I’m sure you are a fine hunter,” she praised. “I’ll bet your brother and your daddy both taught you well.”
“More like Pa’s gonna teach us. I haven’t never hunted ’fore. But maybe Pa’ll let Willy shoot.”
“No, Willy’s not going to shoot tonight.” Mr. Hopkins’s voice was deep and smooth, causing a chill to run up her back. She had almost forgotten the man was there while she had been enjoying her enlightening chat with his son.
“But, Pa,” Tommy whined, “you said yesterday that tonight we could bag a big one. Maybe the one with the big horns.”
“Those aren’t horns, silly. Those are antlers,” Willy corrected his little brother. Then he pleaded his case. “But, Pa, you said we could use the venison.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” Mr. Hopkins’s answer left no room for argument.
“But, why, Pa? Why’d ya change your mind?” Tommy pressed the issue.
“Because I did. We’ll go hunting once we’re back at the house.” Somehow, Abby suspected he had changed his mind because of her presence.
“It’s time to eat,” Mr. Hopkins announced, ending the conversation.
He slid the last of the meat onto a tin plate. Glancing around, he groaned, handed the plate to Willy with instructions to hold it for a minute and then went around the wagon. He came back a moment later, carrying a barrel for water. He set it far enough back from the fire so that there was ample room and then indicated she could have a seat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring a chair or even a stool.”
Once she was seated, he handed her a tin plate, slipped a piece of meat on it and set two dinner rolls on top. The boys were settled with similar plates where they sat on the dirt with their legs crossed in front of them.
“Father God,” Mr. Hopkins began to pray, “we thank You for Your provisions and Your traveling mercies on this trip. I ask You to bless the food to our bodies and keep us safe on our journey home. Thank You for keeping Miss Stewart safe and for giving her the willingness to work for this simple farmer and his sons. Please lead us to make wise decisions and trust You every day. Amen.”
The word home stuck in Abby’s head as she ate. How she wished that she was going home. She had until the harvest to convince Mr. Hopkins that she was a hard worker and should be kept on. Only God held the solutions to her problems in His hand, and He hadn’t let her know what they were yet.
* * *
“Hello, Herbert,” Will called to the older of the Scotts brothers as he stepped down from the wagon. Mr. and Mrs. Scotts had attended church alone for so long that Will had forgotten the couple’s two grown sons still lived with their parents. Rumor had it, the Scotts brothers thought that riding into Twin Oaks and drinking on Saturday nights was a much better way of spending their free time than worshiping in the Lord’s house on Sunday mornings.
“Howdy, Will.” Herbert approached from the shadows of the barn where he had been working. His eyes strayed too long on Miss Stewart before he looked at Will. “And hello, pretty lady. Don’t think I’ve seen the likes of you around here. You—”
“Are your ma and pa around?” Will asked, interrupting Herbert and standing between the man and the wagon. Will was starting to reconsider the idea of leaving a young lady, any young lady, on a farm with the likes of Herbert or Elvin. Why hadn’t he thought of them before? A desire to mount back up and head off to his own claim without waiting for an answer almost won over his sense of courtesy, but now that he had come, they needed to at least greet the elder Scotts.
“Naw. Pa’s out in the fields, and Ma went off to see to Jankowski’s woman. Her time was close and her husband didn’t want to see to all their kids and the birthing. Don’t see why the woman needs so much help. What with all the little squallers she’s already borne, a body’d think she could handle it herself by now.”
Will cringed at the coarse way Herbert spoke about such a delicate subject. A glance at Miss Stewart confirmed her surprise. Now he wished he hadn’t even attempted to bring her here. She needed a safe, comfortable place to stay—like his mother’s home. Miss Stewart had implied that her brother-in-law had been less than respecting to her person, and now Herbert didn’t bother to conceal the way he looked too long at Miss Stewart’s womanly attributes.
Will had a sudden desire to make her feel safe. Where had that thought come from? Yes, his mother had taught him to be a gentleman, but the powerful need to protect Miss Stewart from Herbert took him by surprise. If the man kept looking at Will’s new housekeeper like that, he might just have to teach the younger man a lesson or two about respect.
There was no way he would leave Miss Stewart here. They would have to make some other arrangement. Maybe he could use the barn or fix up the soddy to sleep in so that she could stay in the house. Climbing back into the wagon, he called over his shoulder, “Then I’d best be on my way. You let your ma and pa know we came to visit.”
“But, Will, you’re not being very neighborly. You didn’t even tell me your sister’s name,” Herbert called after him, coming to stand on Miss Stewart’s side of the wagon.
“She’s Auntie Abby and she’s gonna be our new house...house... What is it again?” Tommy whispered to his brother even as Will clicked his tongue to the horses.
“Housekeeper!” Willy answered his brother. “You don’t remember nuttin’.”
“Hey, I just can’t—”
Will turned the wagon around, knowing he was being less than friendly with his nearest neighbor, but he couldn’t stay any longer without losing control of his temper. Miss Stewart was a lovely, respectable woman who deserved to be treated like a lady. Soon enough she’d be headed back East, where she belonged. In the meantime, as her employer, Will knew it was up to him to protect her and make sure she was safe.
“I’m real sorry, Miss Stewart. I didn’t know Mrs. Scotts had gone to stay with the Jankowskis.” He didn’t dare look at the small woman next to him. It was just about two in the afternoon and they still had another hour to go before they made it to the house. What was he going to do for her?
“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known. I’m sure we can come up with something. Maybe I can sleep out in the barn if there’s no place for me in the house.”
“It’s not a question of a place for you,” Will tried to explain. After all, he had thought ahead and planned for a housekeeper. “You can sleep on the first floor in the parlor. It’s been converted into a bedroom.” He didn’t elaborate that the conversion had been for Auntie Sheila and had never been rearranged once she left.
“It’s just that it might not be... It might ruin your reputation to be living on the homestead with two men and two boys and no woman to chaperone.” Even as he forced the words out, he felt his face flame. “Not that there would be any reason. We’ll... Jake and I will behave as gentlemen at all times and you can sleep in the parlor or up in the upstairs if you want. We’ll sleep out in the barn,” he offered.
“I don’t want to put you out of your own home—but we’ll do whatever you say is best.” She didn’t look at him but kept her face toward the waving grasses stretching out in all directions.
Relieved that he could at least offer some protection from gossips, Will stole a glance at Miss Ab...Miss Stewart, he reminded himself. He supposed it was all right for the boys to refer to her as Auntie Abby, but he would still be reserved and careful around her. He didn’t want to be any more familiar with a pretty, young woman than he needed to be. That’s what had gotten him into trouble when he was barely able to shave.
Chapter Three
Abby jounced on the wagon seat and took in the view as they drove up to the farmhouse. The house walls were of stout weather-beaten, whitewashed planks settled on a foundation of stones and boulders. Mr. Hopkins hadn’t stopped at the front entrance for obvious reasons since the weeds grew knee-high right up to the house. Instead, he pulled around into the barnyard where the dirt was hard and flat, giving testimony to constant traffic. The barn was made of the same planks as the house minus the paint.
Something akin to excitement ran through Abby when she saw a small back porch running the length of the house with a bench swing in one corner. She could imagine swinging out there on cool evenings after her housework was done, just as her mother used to when Abby was small. On closer inspection, Abby’s excitement dimmed. She doubted anyone had swung on the swing for a few seasons given the amount of dust and spiderwebs that clung to it. What must the house
look like?
One more jerk and the wagon came to a halt. “We’re here, miss. I can’t promise that it’s very welcoming but...”
Abby looked at Mr. Hopkins and found his expression endearing. He’d mentioned on the trip that he had built the house with his brother and that they had taken the better part of a year to get the main parts done. He said something about having to care for Caroline and the boys, and how that had slowed him down. Now he looked embarrassed as if it wouldn’t measure up to what she expected. Mr. Hopkins’s humble clapboard home represented an opportunity to prove she was an able housekeeper and educator. While it might never truly become her home, she could make it a comfortable one for his family.
“Is everything all right?” His voice called her back to the present. Glancing down from her perch still atop the wagon bench, she found him looking up at her expectantly. His hands were extended to help her climb down from the wagon and she mentally chastised herself for not paying more attention.
“Oh. Yes, Mr. Hopkins. I was just admiring your home.” Just a hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but the pride that shone in his eyes reminded her of Tommy when she praised him.
Mr. Hopkins’s hands were firm and strong as he lifted her at the waist and set her on her feet. “Thank you, miss.” He stood a little straighter and surveyed it himself. “She looks a little rough now.” He glanced at the house and shook his head. “I guess it must not look like much, but it’s dry and warm when it’s cold and wet outside. We make do.”
“I’m sure it’s just fine,” Abby reassured him, seeing a glimpse of an insecure little boy behind the tough exterior of her employer.
“If you want to just go on inside,” he said, turning toward the back of the wagon, “I’ll get your trunk and other boxes in short order.”
“Come on. I wanna show you my room.” Tommy took her hand and started to pull her up the stairs.
“Let’s go take a look,” she agreed, and let herself be led into the kitchen. She blinked as she stood at the threshold and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Something smelled as if it had died and was rotting in the middle of the room. It was enough to make her hold her breath. When she finally released the pent-up air, she tried to keep from thinking about what could be making such a stench. As her eyes adjusted, she could take in more of her surroundings. She held back a groan. What could she expect from four men who had been on their own for a number of years?
The floor was the same rough planks as the walls but caked with dirt from the barnyard. The large table stood in the very middle of the large kitchen, its entire surface dirty with lumps of something stuck to its once-smooth surface. Three different-size pots took up part of the wooden counter; each stank of rot and had something decaying inside it. A filthy stove sat in the corner, its pipe connected to a hole just above the grimy window.
It was nice to see that at least there were two glass windows in the kitchen even if they didn’t have screens. She would have enough natural light on most days (once she washed the windows) so that she wouldn’t even need a lantern or candles. The hand pump connected to the sink looked modern and meant she wouldn’t have to lug water from somewhere outside every morning to start the day. But in spite of those conveniences, she clearly had her work cut out for her.
“C’mon.” Tommy had run ahead but was now back, tugging on her hand again.
“Ahem.” A deep voice from behind startled her, chasing her away from the door.
Mr. Hopkins stood with her hope chest on his shoulder as if it were a bag of feathers. “I’ll take this into the room on the first floor and then you can decide where you want to stay. I...” His nose curled as he stepped farther into the room. “Jake!” he exclaimed, frowning as he took in the pots on the counter. “I asked that boy...” he muttered under his breath.
“I’ll get the kitchen straightened out in no time, sir.”
“It’s not right for you to have to start working today. I’m sure you just want to rest after your long trip.” His face looked bright red and his eyes didn’t meet hers. Abby found his embarrassment charming.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just need to freshen up a bit and then I could pull something together for supper.”
“Are you going to cook like they do at the hotel?” Tommy piped up, still tugging her hand. Willy hovered at the doorway, trying to act nonchalant.
“Well, I don’t know if it’ll be just like the restaurant, but it will be enough to fill you up. My nieces and nephews like my chicken and dumplings. We could also make fried venison steaks when you go get a big one with your pa. But today I think I’m just going to have to see what’s in the pantry and make something simple. Tomorrow we can make a menu. You can show me how many letters and words you already know,” she offered.
“What’s a menu?” Tommy turned to his bigger brother, but Willy just shrugged.
“A menu is the list of the foods for you to choose from. At the restaurant, the lady gave one to you to look at so you could decide what you wanted to order. Here at the house we will make a list for the week ahead of what we are going to make each day so you can get really hungry the days that we make your favorites. It helps to know what we want to cook so that we can make sure all the ingredients are available.”
“What’s ’gredients?”
“Ingredients are the things we need to make that food, like flour and butter and eggs…. Now, how about if we go help your pa put my stuff in my room and then we can chat?” Abby offered, following the man who had disappeared into the second doorway on the hallway from the kitchen. Once out of the kitchen, she discovered it wasn’t a hallway but a large living room with a comfortable-looking davenport and a rocking chair facing the center of the room. The center wall was a massive fireplace with an ample hearth. The door Mr. Hopkins entered shared the wall with the fireplace. That room would be nice and warm come the winter—if she was still working for the family then.
The bedroom itself was sparsely furnished, with a large bed sagging in the center. The only other piece of furniture was a forlorn nightstand. Everything had a layer of dust, and the spiderwebs in the corner looked like spun cotton.
“Where would you like your chest?” Mr. Hopkins stood in the middle of the room, looking surprised to see the condition of the place. “Um, I hadn’t been in here....”
“I think it would be best if you left it out in the living room for a few minutes until I can tidy up just a bit,” Abby suggested tactfully.
“Are you gonna sleep on the couch?” Tommy asked.
“No.” Abby shook her head and smiled at the small boy, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be sleeping in here, but I think it would be better to air out the room and sweep up a little. Don’t you agree?”
Tommy nodded energetically. Willy hung back at the door, not venturing into the room but watching everyone else.
“Could you do me a favor?” Abby asked Willy, knowing Tommy would probably follow. “Would you go find me the broom and dustpan?” As soon as Tommy and Willy had raced off, she tried the window, but it wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll go get your other things, miss. Unless there’s something else that you would like me to do first?” Mr. Hopkins offered. His hands resting on opposite sides of the door frame reminded her just how big Mr. Hopkins was. He looked capable of building a house on his own.
“Could you give me a hand with the window?”
Mr. Hopkins crossed the room in five large steps. The room shrank with each step. He towered above her as he stood next to her. He pushed a lock on the top of the lower frame and then grunted as he tried to free the window. It took two tries, but suddenly there was a rush of fresh air sending dust dancing across the room.
“Thank you, sir,” she choked out, just before sneezing from the dust.
“No problem. I’ll go open the kitchen windows, too. Might as well get it aired out in here. I’ll have to put screens on as soon as I can so you’ll be comfortable in here in the summer, assuming...” Before he found the words to finish his thoughts, he stalked out of the room.
The boys raced in, fighting about who was going to give her the broom. “Thank you, gentlemen.” She acknowledged both of them, causing Tommy to have a fit of giggles. “Now I need you to go out in the living room until I’m ready for you in here. I’m going to get some of this dust out.” She tied a handkerchief around her face, covering her nose and mouth, making both boys giggle. Too much in a hurry to change, she told herself that the clothes that she had traveled in needed a good washing anyway, so a little more dust wouldn’t hurt.
In a few minutes, she swept up the dirt and dumped it unceremoniously out the open window. She took the bedspread and sheets off the bed, even though there wouldn’t be time to get them washed and dried before nightfall. She opted to get as much of the musty smell out as possible. She hung the bedding on the lines extending from the side of the house to a stand twenty paces away. Beating the dusty linens helped to relieve the tensions that had built up over the last few weeks and gave the boys something vigorous to do.
Rinsing off at the outside well, she returned to the kitchen, happy to find that the three pots had vanished. A good breeze flowed through from the two windows and the doorway to the living area. Someone left a fire started in the stove, but she opened the door and checked it anyway. She put water to boil in the only big cauldron she could find in the pantry. She couldn’t start dinner until she got some of the grime out of the kitchen. Broom in hand, she made quick work of sweeping the bulk of the dirt off the floor.
Two hours later, she had the table and counter spotless, the supplies Mr. Hopkins brought from town put away in the pantry and dinner finished. There hadn’t been time to make bread, but she was glad to see there were all the ingredients she would need tomorrow. For tonight, a simple fare of biscuits and fried meat would be all she could offer. Mr. Hopkins had promised a visit to the smokehouse tomorrow so she could take inventory.
The windows let more than just the breeze in. A bee and a few flies all got a good whack from her wooden spoon for their efforts to visit her kitchen, but the boys’ laughter and shouting rode inside on the breeze, too. The latter far outweighed the first. She smiled, listening to them play with their hoops as they ran around the barnyard with sticks in their hands, competing to see who could last the longest before the hoops would wobble and fall.
Finally, the spotless table set with clean dishes, she stretched her arms to the sides and then over her head. She had always worked hard at Emma’s house, but today, she did more in a few hours than what she usually would do in a whole day. Traveling left her stiff and out of sorts, and last night’s sleep had been fitful. Even with the reassurance that Mr. Hopkins and the boys were sleeping in the tent a few paces from the wagon, Abby had startled awake to every small sound. As tired as she felt now, though, she was sure she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.
“Gentlemen, it’s time for supper,” she called, descending the back stairs.
Tommy dropped his stick in the dust and let the hoop roll off as he sprinted to her. “Can we come in now? Pa said we needed to let you sleep, but it sure smells like you were cooking. Can you come see my room now?”
She grimaced at the last question. What would she find upstairs if the downstairs was so dirty? She wasn’t sure she could take any more surprises like that tonight. At least the mess gave her hope that if she could do her best job, she would show Mr. Hopkins how much he needed her. It wasn’t just a question of taking care of the mess. From the state of the pots and pans, she’d gotten the idea that Mr. Hopkins wasn’t a very good cook, either. He was strong and tall but lean. The boys were on the skinny side, too, but with a few weeks of her meals, she was sure that she could have them filling out very nicely.
“Do you want to let your pa and cousin know it’s time to eat?”
Without letting go of her hand, Tommy stopped, looked over his shoulder and let out a holler that almost left her deaf. “Auntie House says it’s time to eat.”
Turning again toward the house, he started to tug again, but she stood her ground. “Is there something else that you need to do before you head on in?” she prompted.
“Nope. I told ’em,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly.
“I was thinking about your toys. Do you always leave them in the middle of the yard?”
“Huh?” Tommy glanced around, confused, until he spotted Willy carrying in the other hoop and stick. “Oh. Wait here for me, Abby,” he called over his shoulder as he let go of her hand and charged off to collect his forgotten toys.
“Auntie Abby,” a deep voice corrected from the open doors of the barn. Mr. Hopkins had been observing from the shadows. Would he be angry for her familiarity with the boys? Would he approve of her work or was there something she had done that upset him? If only she didn’t feel like she was on trial.
“Auntie Abby,” Tommy repeated.
“Supper’s ready,” she announced, regretting it immediately since Tommy’s voice had probably been heard into the next county.
“So I heard.” His voice held dry humor. Could he actually be amused by Tommy’s antics?
From across the barnyard, Abby thought the corners of his lips twitched, and she wondered what his smile would look like. Although Mr. Hopkins seemed very reserved with her, the boys didn’t fear him. In fact, more than once she watched them climb all over him like playful little pups. From the wagon she had almost been sure she heard him laughing with the boys as they had settled down to sleep by the riverside the night before.
Abby’s brother-in-law, Palmer, had never interacted with his children like that. Trying to remember her own father, she felt sadness at the faded memories. Closing her eyes for a brief second, she remembered his scratchy chin nuzzling her at bedtime, after he had read her a story and listened to her prayers. Had they wrestled as well and she just couldn’t remember or was it a game reserved for boys only? Her nephews loved to wrestle each other and she delighted in tickling them. How would they be doing now?
Tommy ran back to her and started his now familiar tugging on her arm. “Let’s go!”
“Okay.” She smiled again and let him pull her along.
“Tomas Daniel!” It was a command, not a shout, but it brought Tommy up short and got her attention, as well. “You should never pull a lady. You need to learn to walk at her pace,” Mr. Hopkins instructed his son, having almost caught up to them with his long strides. He let the others enter first, holding the door open when they reached the porch.
Another young man stood there, too. He was thin and tall, with the same sandy-brown hair and light blue eyes as Mr. Hopkins, and he stood waiting on the porch while she and the boys washed their hands in the sink. Abby wondered where the other man had been as she hurried around to make sure that the table was ready. The boys scampered to their places at the table and climbed up, Tommy kneeling on his chair so he could reach.
“Miss Stewart.” Mr. Hopkins turned to the younger man next to him. “I’d like to introduce you to my nephew, Jake Hopkins.”
The poor boy’s face was beet-red. He looked everywhere but at her. He nodded and mumbled something that she couldn’t quite understand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Master Hopkins. I hope you didn’t have too much work to do while your uncle collected me from the train.”
“Um, no, ma’am, I mean miss.” His voice cracked between words and then he dropped the soap his uncle had just handed him. Although Abby had not thought it possible, his face turned even redder.
“She’s Auntie Abby,” Tommy corrected, leaving both Abby and Jake with an uncomfortable situation. It was obvious that he was a teen and could not as easily call her auntie, especially since he was living with his uncle.
Mr. Hopkins settled the matter. “Around here we usually use just first names for the boys, so you can address him as Jake. No need for master or mister.” He didn’t offer for her to call him by his first name, which was just as well. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on a first-name basis with her employer, either.
After a pause, she decided to change the subject. “I hope you’re all hungry. I made enough to feed an army.”
After everyone was seated, Mr. Hopkins asked for God’s blessing on the food and the hands that prepared it. He also asked for wisdom and grace for the adjustments to come. Abby enjoyed the boys’ constant chatter as they filled their cousin in on all the things that they saw on their trip into town. It was becoming evident that it was not a common event.
Before she thought it was possible, all the plates were empty once again. “You cook really good. Gooder than Pa. He always burns everything,” Tommy announced.
“It was really good,” Willy confirmed. He had not yet directed any comments to her. Now that he had, she felt as if she had won a prize.
“The boys are right. You did a fine job with supper, Miss Stewart. Thank you, especially seeing as how you must be completely tuckered out.” Mr. Hopkins’s gaze confirmed that he was not just being polite but he meant every word. “Is there anything else you’ll need tonight?”
“I still have to make up the bed and clean up here, but I think I’m all set, sir. Thank you.” She rose to start clearing the table, and everyone scrambled to help. She had left water heating on the stove so she could make washing dishes a quick job once everyone had cleared out. To her surprise, Mr. Hopkins rolled up his sleeves, poured part of the hot water into a basin in the sink and started to shave off a few slices of soap. Soon he had the dishes in the sudsy water.
“Pa, can we show her our room now?” Tommy pleaded.
“That’s up to Miss Stewart. She might just want to get some rest,” he answered with his strong forearms submerged in the water.
“Not just yet,” she answered Mr. Hopkins, then turned to the boys. “Why don’t you help me get the blankets off the line outside before it gets too dark and then you can show me your room? I think you said something about blocks your pa made for you. I’d like to see those tonight even if we don’t have time to play. Tomorrow we’ll have time to explore and see just how much you can teach me about your house.”
“I’m not a teacher,” Tommy giggled. “That’s your job.”
“But you know lots about where the clothes are, where the tub is for washing the clothes and what your favorite foods are. You can teach me all those things while I teach you how to read. I even brought some books so I can read you some stories when we get settled.”
“Could you read us one tonight? Please?” Tommy cajoled.
After offering to take over the dishes again and being assured everything was under control, she turned to the boys. “How ’bout you help me with my bedding first? Then we’ll see what time it is. Maybe your pa wants you to be in bed soon.”
She sought a confirming look from her employer but found him silently staring at her. “How ’bout we talk in just a minute, once you’re done getting the bedding?” he suggested, and turned back to the dishes before she could answer.
* * *
Her new room smelled fresher now. She stood back and inspected her work... Well, the work she did after the boys “helped” her to make her bed. One more thing she would need to add to her list of lessons for them. Mr. Hopkins had come into the room with a bed key and tightened the ropes under the mattress so it no longer sagged. She closed the window most of the way, leaving only a crack open so the air could continue to circulate without the bugs eating her alive.
“Excuse me, Miss Stewart. Did you want me to put your chest and boxes in your room now or leave them here?” Mr. Hopkins stood right outside her door, awaiting her answer. He took up the majority of the doorway with his broad shoulders and muscled forearms perched on each side of the door frame.
“If you could bring them in here, that would be very nice. Thank you. You could put them right there.” She pointed to the corner under the window and moved so he could get past her even as the boys climbed onto the bed.
“Boys, it’s time to go get ready for bed.” His statement was met with groans, but neither boy argued as they left the room. He looked up to see her watching and grinned as if he knew a secret.
“Now,” he whispered, “Tommy will be back in five seconds to ask if you can read—”
“Pa, can Auntie House read to us?” Tommy shuffled back into the room right on time.
Abby fought not to laugh out loud as Mr. Hopkins gave her a knowing glance and a wink above
Tommy’s head.
“I was about to talk to her about that, but if you don’t get ready for bed, there won’t be time for anything other than prayers.” His voice was as stern as ever and didn’t give away the humor Abby read in his eyes.
“But she could come for prayers, couldn’t she?” Tommy persisted.
“Tomas Daniel,” Mr. Hopkins said in a deep, low voice.
“Yes, Pa. I’m going but, please.” The boy was close to whining.
“Go get ready for bed.” The command left no room for argument.
Tommy left the room, walking like a man sentenced to face the firing squad. Abby watched him walk away and then turned to find Mr. Hopkins watching her with a guarded expression, the lighthearted humor forgotten.
“You don’t have to go upstairs and help with bedtime, Miss Stewart. You’ve done more than I expected today. Is there anything you need?”
Disappointment sliced through her. Why should it matter if she helped the boys into bed or not? But it did. She wanted to hear the prayers and kiss their foreheads just as she had done with her nieces and nephews for the last fourteen years.
“I would love to read them a story if it’s all right with you.” She bit her lower lip, trying to find a nice way to imply that he might not want her involved in such a private family time. “I don’t know your routine with the boys. What they do at bedtime or what you will expect me to do in the days to come.”
“Well, it will take some time to get used to having a woman around here again,” he stated cryptically.
“I imagine. I was wondering... I don’t want to ask anything that’s none of my business, but just how long has it been since a woman lived here?”
A shadow passed over his face for a minute and she held her breath, afraid she had just offended her employer on her first day there.
“It’s been two years since my wife’s aunt left.” His vague answer left her with more questions instead of answers. Did the boys still miss their great-aunt? How much time would she have to work here before the end of the harvest? Should she hold them at arm’s length so that when she left, they wouldn’t miss her too much? Would it even be possible to hold them at arm’s length? After only two days, Tommy already tugged on her heartstrings and somber, grouchy Willy seemed to dare her to love him.
Minutes later she was sitting between the two boys on the side of Tommy’s bed, reading to them. By the time she had finished the story, not only had Tommy climbed up on her lap, but Willy had slid over to look over her shoulder at the pictures. Story done, they took turns petitioning God with their heartfelt prayers for the cows, the horses, family they had never met, for their pa and their cousin, and they included her, as well. She said a few prayers of her own. Her thoughts traveled from her sister’s family to the Gibbonses and then all the people she had met on her trip. She asked for God’s blessing on this new family that she felt privileged to know.

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