Her Believing Heart (The Surveyor's Daughters Book 1)

by Vicki Hunt Budge

  “Good people,” Mrs. Howell said, and then added, “thank you again, Evan. You’re the best son a woman could have.”

  Evan went to bed as soon as the sky turned dark, and rose long before the sun came up in the morning. He ate a bowl of leftover beans and corn bread, and took off for the Gardner homestead. He didn’t run this time, but walked briskly, the movement helping his sore muscles loosen up.

  Along the way, Evan thought of George Jepson’s offer to play poker with George and his friends. Evan’s father had taught him how to play poker, those times when the man made it home to see his family. What if I could double my money? Evan thought. If I doubled the money Mr. Gardner paid me, I could buy everything I need to establish my own homestead. Just thinking about the possibility of applying for a homestead and hopefully marrying Nellie made him want to give the gamble a try. His mother always said he was a quick thinker and had precise recall when it came to reading and numbers. Surely he would have precise recall in a friendly game of poker.

  Even Mr. Gardner had noticed Evan’s ability to learn quickly and remember what he’d learned. The man had mentioned that fact when he asked Evan about helping with the survey. Thinking about his ability to learn quickly made Evan wish he hadn’t had to quit school every time he had a chance to work. If he had more schooling, he could get better jobs and help his mother more. If he had more schooling, he wouldn’t be so poor, and would be a better candidate for Nellie’s hand.

  Thinking of what Mr. Gardner said brought Evan to his senses. His father was a quick thinker and had precise recall, too. Trouble was, Evan’s father thought along the very lines that Evan had just been entertaining. And look where that thinking got Evan’s family. That kind of thinking had sucked his father into a life of drifting and gambling. And worse, whenever his father won at poker, the money seldom made it back home to his family.

  Evan hung his head and slowed his pace, ashamed that he had allowed his thoughts to dwell on winning a poker game. He recalled the promise he had made to his mother when he was a small boy, the promise to never gamble with his earnings when he got jobs. Tightening his fists, he pledged in his heart once again to never break that promise.

  When he arrived at Nellie’s back door, Nellie met him before he could knock.

  “Welcome back, Evan,” Nellie said, smiling and holding the door open for him. Have you eaten?”

  Nellie wore what was probably her work dress with a dark blue apron over it. It wasn’t as colorful as yesterday’s dress, but she still looked stunning to Evan. He nodded, suddenly feeling nervous about what to say. Here was the woman he wanted to sweep into his arms, and she was all alone in the kitchen. A hug and a sweet kiss from her would be too heavenly to comprehend. But instead of any romantic fantasies happening, he stood there like a bumpkin staring at her, without saying anything intelligent.

  He heard the clinking of dishes in the next room and laughter coming from her family. “I’m ready to go to work,” he finally said, sweeping his cap from his head and holding it tight against his chest.

  “Wonderful!” Nellie replied, joy filling her eyes. “Because we’re planning a family contest today to see who can hoe half of the second potato field the fastest. It’s the men against the women.”

  Suddenly Evan shook himself from his fantasy world to the real world. He liked a challenge, but he had to give her a hard time. “Wait a minute! There’s eight of you girls, nine if your ma helps, and only three of us men.”

  Nellie laughed. “Some say that men are stronger than women and can work harder. Looks like we’ll find out today.”

  Evan hesitated. He looked at her with probing eyes, uncertain of what to say next. He didn’t want to get into an argument with the person he adored over who was stronger and could work harder, men or women.

  Nellie covered her mouth with her hands, giggling as she did so. “I’m teasing,” she finally said, “but you’re so fun to tease. We are having a contest to see if we can all pitch together and weed the second field faster than our previous family best. Pa keeps track of this kind of stuff with his pocket watch and a little record book.”

  “He keeps track of how fast your family works?”

  “Only for fun,” Nellie replied. “Motivates us all work faster, and today when we finish, we’re going inside to make ice cream. Pa says we should finish much faster this year than last year because everyone’s a year older, and ‘that hardworking Evan Howell is helping today.’”

  Evan had no words after that comment. He shook his head and grinned though. He’d never looked forward to hoeing a field of potatoes before, but now, he couldn’t wait to get started.

  3

  By the time the sun was high in the sky, Nellie had worked two long rows, digging up weeds with her hoe and flipping loose dirt around the potato plants to provide a nice airy bed for them. She was thankful her bonnet hid most of her dirt streaked face. She stopped working and arched her back. While wiping sweat from her face with her apron, she noticed that most of her family had stopped to stretch. Evan, however, continued working almost as quickly as when he had started.

  “Let’s take a rest,” Mr. Gardner said, waving everyone toward the house. While everyone stretched out in the shade of the porch or on the steps, Mr. Gardner pumped cool water into a bucket and offered them a drink. He pulled out his timepiece. “We’re going to finish that field in no time,” he said. “Probably two hours faster than last year.”

  “Thank goodness,” Nellie said. “I’m about through with weeds and dirt. I’m ready for ice cream.”

  “Me too,” her sisters chorused.

  Thoughts of a sweet treat reminded Nellie of the stick candy she had won at the quilting party. She raced upstairs to her bedroom and returned with the candy, handing out a couple of sticks to everyone who wanted one. Mrs. Gardner passed out cinnamon rolls.

  “You girls sure look cute with streaks of dirt on your face,” Charlie said. “Don’t you agree, Evan?”

  Evan grinned and nodded. “Yes, they do,” he said quietly, but the only girl he looked at was Nellie.

  Mrs. Gardner soaked a clean towel with the cool water and passed it around. Nellie wanted to cover her face with the towel and breathe in the coolness for a long time, but she cleaned her face instead and passed the towel on to Ruby.

  They were heading back to the field after their rest when Gunner started barking. A horse and carriage traveled toward them from town. Nellie was surprised to see George Jepson sitting tall upon the carriage as though he had just stepped out of a mail-order catalog. She didn’t feel the least bit cute as George pulled his carriage to a stop beside them.

  “Good morning,” George said looking down from the carriage. He looked mortified by the sun-beaten crew before him. “I wondered if I could have a word with Nellie.”

  Nellie approached the carriage while Evan and the rest of her family went on to the field. She wished George would climb down from the carriage so she didn’t have to tip her head back so far to see him.

  “I’d like to escort you to the dance Saturday night,” George said. He smiled, but didn’t leave the carriage. “I know your family comes to the dance, but I’d be happy to ride back out here for the opportunity to escort you.”

  Nellie leaned her hoe against her body and held the brim of her sunbonnet in a manner that allowed her to see George, but shade her eyes from the sun. The hoe immediately fell to the ground, and she struggled to pick it up. She was flattered that George wanted to escort her to the dance, but under the circumstances, she wished he would go away. Her thoughts flew back and forth as she tried to think how to answer and get him on his way. “Thank you, George,” she finally said. “I . . . um, since my family is going to the dance, perhaps I could just see you there. It’ll save you the drive out here.”

  Disappointment registered on George’s face.

  “I promise to save the first dance for you,” Nellie added cheerfully, trying to smooth over the awkwardness of the situation.

&
nbsp; “All right,” George said. “First dance. Don’t forget. I’ll see you Saturday.” He snapped the reins and his carriage moved forward a little too fast, causing Nellie to step back so quickly she almost stumbled.

  Digging into the dirt with a vengeance, and throwing dirt onto the base of the potato plants, wasn’t simply a way to catch up with her share of the work. Nellie was irritated. Irritated that George had been rude. Irritated with herself for not accepting his offer to escort her to the dance. Hadn’t she already decided that she should entertain George’s interest in her? After all, he had ridden all the way out from town to see her. Maybe he hadn’t meant to be rude. Maybe he’d simply been embarrassed because she’d turned down his offer. He came from such a respectable family. Not only was his father the owner of the mercantile, but his sister was one of Nellie’s best friends.

  Something else irritated her, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. She glanced toward Evan as he struck the ground with his hoe, weeding and building dirt mounds around the potato plants. From what she’d seen of the way Evan worked, he had more character than most of the young men in the valley, including George Jepson. So why did some people say Evan wouldn’t make a good husband and father? He wasn’t compelled to follow in his father’s footsteps. He could be his own person, couldn’t he?

  Evan worked long hours beside Nellie and her family for the rest of the week. They worked to get the fields, ditches, barn, and garden in order before Mr. Gardner took off with his survey crew.

  On Friday morning, the wind picked up before the last field was completely weeded. When the gusts grew stronger, Mr. Gardner, Evan, and Charlie finished the field while the rest of the family went inside to prepare dinner. Once dinner was ready, Mrs. Gardner insisted that Evan dine with them. Everyone sat around the massive table eating ham, cheese, bread, carrots, and cucumbers.

  Mr. Gardner sighed contentedly when he finished. “Well, all the fields are weeded,” he said. “The irrigation ditches are shoveled out, the barn stalls cleaned, and the supplies for the survey are stacked in the barn, ready to load into wagons Monday morning. There’s a few things to take care of tomorrow, but other than that, I think we’re ready to go.”

  “Then it’s a perfect afternoon to can apricots,” Mrs. Gardner said, raising her brows and smiling. “The apricots are ripe, and if the outside work is done, I’d love everyone’s help for a good old canning session.”

  “You know what that means, don’t you?” Charlie said nudging Evan’s arm. “It means you and I go out in this wind and pick cots from two swaying trees. It could be worse. We could be in here cleaning the kitchen and washing canning jars.”

  “Nellie, Ruby, and I will help you outside,” Mr. Gardner said enthusiastically, as though he found pleasure in the idea of going out to battle the weather again. “In this wind, it will take two of us to hold the ladders while someone picks the cots. On the other hand, this wind might blow most of the cots out of the trees, and it won’t be much of a job at all.”

  “I’ll be happy to help,” Evan said. He smiled at Mrs. Gardner, and then turned to look at her husband. “I’ve helped my mother can apples and applesauce, but you don’t need to pay me for helping with the apricots. That’s not what you hired me to do.”

  “No, son,” Mr. Gardner said. He placed his napkin next to his plate and pushed his chair back. “I’ll pay you for a day’s work like I agreed. I hired you to help with whatever I needed around here this week and with the survey for the next few weeks. Today, I need you to help with the cots.”

  Two hours later, the kitchen was tidy, clean jars were stacked everywhere, and hot water simmered on the stove. Five bushels of apricots sat on the back porch. “Are we going to have a contest, Pa?” one of the younger girls asked.

  “Great idea!” Mr. Gardner said. “I’ll get my record book.” He turned on his heel, and strode out of the kitchen.

  “Does your Pa make a contest out of everything?” Evan asked when Mr. Gardner left the room.

  His question made the sisters, and even Charlie laugh and nod their heads.

  Mr. Gardner returned with a little book that looked weathered around the edges. He hummed a cheery tune and thumbed through the book as he walked. “By golly, we did time ourselves last year and the year before when the cots were ripe. We should be able to beat our best time with Evan here to help us.” He looked up and wagged his eyebrows at Evan.

  After a short scurry of last minute preparations, Mr. Gardner checked his timepiece and declared, “Let the contest begin!” An assembly line began where apricots were washed, inspected, cut open, pitted, stuffed in jars, covered with a light syrup and lids, and set in a hot-water bath. All the overripe and gooey apricots were set aside for jam or eaten by the helpers, unless they had worms. The apricots with worms were pitted and thrown in a discard pile for the pigs.

  The family started singing Shenandoah and other favorite songs as they worked. At one point, when it seemed like there were too many people in the kitchen, Mr. Gardner shooed Ruby into the parlor where the family’s old reed organ sat. Ruby belted out the melody to I’ve Been Working on the Railroad, and the work tempo picked up.

  Hours later, after apricot and jam bottles lined the kitchen table and the kitchen was clean, Mr. Gardner took out his timepiece and declared them all winners. “We beat our best time by over forty-five minutes!” he shouted.

  “And this year there was an abundance of cots!”

  Early Saturday morning, Nellie saw flashes of lightning through her window and heard deep rolls of thunder. She snuggled deeper under the covers she shared with Ruby. With the rain pelting the roof, Nellie wondered if Evan would even show up for work today. All the farm work for which Evan had been hired was completed anyway.

  Nellie lay in her warm bed, staring at nothing until another streak of lightening lit the sky and part of her room. She smiled, picturing Evan with his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms. Sticky apricot juice ran over those brawny forearms while he cut the apricots in half and dropped them in bottles.

  The smell in the kitchen yesterday afternoon had been heavenly, and after the work, the family had enjoyed fresh-out-of-the-oven bread with butter and warm apricot jam. Evan had stayed long enough to enjoy the warm bread and jam before he had headed home. No matter how hard Nellie tried, she could not conjure up a vision of George Jepson canning apricots with her family.

  When Nellie heard Gunner bark, she flew out of bed, threw her clothes on, and tied her hair back. Gunner’s bark meant that Evan was coming up the road. She reached the kitchen just before he knocked. “Good morning,” she said, practically pulling him in out of the rain. “Come in and sit by the stove.”

  “Sorry about the mud,” Evan said, standing in the middle of a braided rug and taking off an old leather hat that dripped with rain water.

  Nellie sighed at Evan’s drenched appearance. Her heart ached at the thought of him walking all the way from town in the downpour. “Don’t worry about anything,” she said. “Just wipe your feet on the rug the best you can. We’ll clean the floor after the rain stops.”

  “Welcome back,” Mr. Gardner said when Evan entered the dining area. “Come have a cup of coffee and get warm. Mrs. Gardner and I were just going over the job lists for the day. Hopefully, this rain won’t last too long.”

  Nellie’s mother poured the coffee and motioned for Evan to sit at the end of the table nearest the stove. As most of Nellie’s siblings joined them at the table, Mrs. Gardner served bacon, eggs, and bread to everyone, including Evan.

  Evan tried to protest, claiming he’d eaten at home, but Mrs. Gardner placed the food in front of him and pushed a jar of apricot jam his way. “Help yourself,” she said.

  “Evan and Charlie will take the wagon into town to pick up the shovels and ax being repaired at the blacksmith’s shop,” Mr. Gardner said. “I also have a list of a few more supplies from the mercantile.”

  “Can I go with them, Pa?” Nell
ie asked. “I could gather the supplies while they’re at the blacksmith’s.” Nellie was so used to working beside Evan all week that she was disappointed when her father didn’t include her in his assigned task for the day. She was more disappointed when Mr. Gardner shook his head.

  “Too many inside chores have been neglected this week because of helping with the farm. I want you to help your Ma and sisters catch up things in the house since you’ll be gone for the next few weeks.”

  Nellie nodded, but couldn’t stop the disappointment that flooded through her. It looked like Evan was disappointed too, which made her feel better.

  “By the way,” Evan said to Mrs. Gardner as he spread apricot jam on his bread, “Ma and my sisters thank you for the jars of jam you sent home yesterday. They sure loved having that jam on their bread last night.”

  “Tell them they’re very welcome,” Mrs. Gardner said. “I want you to take some jars of canned apricots tonight. They’ll be tastier after they set a while, but I’d like your family to have them.”

  “I hate to send you boys out in the rain,” Mr. Gardner said after looking over his lists. “But I think the rain’s letting up, and you’ll be all right. Just stay on the road so the wagon doesn’t get bogged down. Here’s the list of supplies I need from town.” He downed the last of his coffee, handed the list to Charlie, and took his coat off a peg by the kitchen door. “I’ll be in my workshop if anyone needs me.”

  Once Mr. Gardner, Charlie and Evan were out the door to their various destinations, Mrs. Gardner tasked the girls with baking bread, preparing stew, cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing floors, emptying the ash box, and cleaning the glass chimneys for the kerosene lamps. Everyone that is, except for Nellie and her sister Alice. Nellie along with Alice, who had recently turned thirteen, were assigned to wash the rags.

  Alice’s eyes widened when the rag assignment was made. She had never been included in that little chore before.