The Arms of a Better Man

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by Indiana Wake


  It was going to be hard work, and Grace had fully intended to be at his side throughout; helping him build a house, learning the skills required on a farm. But who was there to teach her now? She would never manage the heavy farming tools alone and even if she could, she had no idea how to use them.

  “I have only ever known how to teach,” Grace went on sadly. “I have only ever worked in a schoolroom with the little ones, showing them how to read, write, and count. Now’s not the time for me to be learning how to farm. Peter could have taught me, and I would have worked as hard as I could, but I have no idea how to do this. I know I have no skill for it, even if I was once so sure I could have learned it. But there’s nobody to teach me now and I have to find another way to survive.” She paused. “Until next year, at least.”

  “Next year?” Laura coaxed gently.

  “Yes. All I need to do is survive until next year. I’ll head on back east with the guides in spring when they go back for the next lot of folks coming from Missouri.”

  “You’re going to go home?” Laura said and the regret in her voice was clear. “I don’t blame you at all. After all, your sister is there.”

  “She sure is,” Grace said without enthusiasm.

  Grace’s sister was a good deal older than she was. She was already married with children of her own before Grace was out of the schoolroom herself. The two had never been close, although they had never been enemies either. And Grace knew her sister would help her no matter what.

  Still, the idea of going back east to live with her sister’s family hardly filled her with pleasure. But then, nothing did anymore, and it was likely that she would never be happy again. In the end, what did it matter?

  “You won’t have any trouble selling the oxen, and your wagon is in good condition considering all it’s been through.” Laura had adopted a practical tone to hide the fact that she was already mourning the loss of the woman she thought would be a friend for life.

  “I’ll sell it all as soon as we arrive. Everything but my clothes and a couple of books Peter let me put on the wagon.” She smiled sadly as she thought of all the little household things she’d put on the wagon only for Peter to smile at her and tell her they needed space for the important things, the equipment and food for the journey.

  “I’m so sorry,” Laura said so genuinely that Grace felt her own emotion swirling in her chest once more.

  “And then I’ll find a boarding house somewhere and set about finding myself some work to keep me going.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “Teaching is all I know. I’m sure there must be a need for a teacher somewhere. There must be a schoolroom or two for me to work in,” Grace said with more certainty than she felt. “But I guess time will tell.”

  “No sense in worrying about it before you even get there. Just one day at a time.” Laura nodded reassuringly.

  “Yes, just one day at a time,” Grace replied as she kept her eyes down on the rocky path.

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  “It just feels so hard today getting back to work without Father here.” Estelle, the youngest of the three Crabtree sisters, was close to tears again.

  “I know it’s hard, Estelle, but the farm has been untended for so many days already,” Belle Crabtree said and placed a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Alright, one more cup of coffee, and then we get to it, girls, okay?”

  “Yes, alright,” Joanna said as she reached across the large round wooden table to take Estelle’s hand. “I’m sorry, Estelle, but Belle is right. We have to keep going, just as Father said we should. And you’ve done real well so far. You’ve helped to milk the cows every day since he passed and he would have been so proud of you.”

  As Belle, the eldest of the sisters, set about making them another cup of coffee, she blinked hard to hide the tears, which seemed to be only just below the surface recently.

  It hadn’t yet been two weeks since their father, Jack Crabtree, died, and only two days since they buried him. In all that time, the only thing that the girls had kept on top of at Crabtree farm was the feeding of the animals and the milking of their small herd of eight cows. After all, it wasn’t exactly something that could be left for another day.

  In many ways, Belle had welcomed the daily routine of having to care for the little group of cows. After so much pain and anguish, looking after the herd had seemed to provide a much-needed normality in her life. She had clearly seen how the occupation had kept Estelle, the most sensitive of the three, from crumbling altogether. It had held her attention and kept her in the here and now, if only for a little while.

  As much as the farm needed to be tended, Belle was more determined that the other girls get back to work fully and find some sort of peace. They needed life to have that certain flow again, and for all three of them to settle into it.

  “I know Father would have wanted us to keep going, I know he said as much, but I can’t help thinking that we’re just carrying on as if he was never here,” Estelle said tearfully.

  “But don’t you see? Keeping Father’s farm going is keeping his memory alive,” Belle said with passion. “He started Crabtree Farm up from nothing and we have to make it work.”

  “You always have such a firm way of looking at things, Belle, and it really is a comfort to me.” Estelle sniffed loudly, and Joanna searched the pocket of her long skirt for a handkerchief to give to her sister.

  “Here, drink this down.” Belle settled the three mugs of coffee down on the table and relaxed into her seat.

  She looked at her beautiful sisters, at just nineteen and twenty-years-old, and felt the sudden weight of responsibility. Belle was the head of the household now, whether she liked it or not, and she had promised her father faithfully that she would do everything in her power to keep the farm going and her sisters safe.

  Crabtree Farm had been a success for as long as Belle could remember. Her first recollections of the place as a little girl was of a thriving little farm doing a good trade in grain and wheat, seasonal vegetables, and milk. Jack Crabtree had set it up that way, not choosing to be a farmer of any particular kind, but rather choosing to do a little bit of everything. He had told Belle more than once over the years that he’d always seen diversity as the best means of providing safety. Sure, he wasn’t going to be the most successful crop farmer or dairy farmer in town, but if the wheat ever failed for some reason or other, he would have his vegetables and milk to fall back on. It was his way of making sure that his family would always be well provided for.

  “I do worry about some of the heavier stuff, girls,” Estelle went on, but Belle didn’t mind.

  It was as if Estelle had to voice each and every one of her fears before she could keep going, and if that was what was going to help her, it was just fine by Belle.

  “I know it might take all three of us to attach a plow, but we can do it. We’ve been doing it, haven’t we?” Belle said gently.

  “Yes, just as Father taught us, the three of us working together,” Joanna said, and Belle was pleased to have some help in trying to keep Estelle’s spirits up.

  “I know, I know,” Estelle said miserably. “I guess I’m just scared altogether and I don’t really know which thing is scaring me the most. Maybe it’s just everything.”

  “That’s understandable, Estelle. We, none of us, expected Father to take ill so suddenly and die so soon, and it really is hard to take it all in, let alone keep moving forward, keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Belle sipped the scalding hot coffee and winced at its intentional bitterness.

  The last days had drained her utterly, and she felt exhausted to the point that she hardly recognized herself. But
Belle did not want her sisters to see it, she needed to keep going. If strong coffee was what was needed, then strong coffee it was.

  “Well, maybe we should think about hiring someone,” Joanna said tentatively. “We have the money to do it, after all.”

  “Let’s give it a while and see how we get along with it,” Belle said quietly and nodded. “There’s still three of us and the farm isn’t unmanageable, is it?”

  “I know Father didn’t have to hire anybody, but he had the three of us. Please promise me you will think about it if we start to struggle,” Joanna went on and Estelle seemed to have drifted off altogether.

  It was as if the youngest Crabtree sister could not focus on anything but her own fears. Belle and Joanna would simply have to contemplate the practicalities without her.

  “I just think that we should be mindful of what Father said before he died,” Belle said and took another sip of the coffee to stave off the wave of exhaustion.

  “Do you really think the men of Turners Ridge will be circling us now that Father isn’t here?” Joanna spoke in a near whisper, as if she did not want to upset Estelle any further.

  “I don’t think there’ll be so many, but this is a thriving farm and I would be surprised if at least one or two of the men of Turners Ridge isn’t thinking about getting his feet under the table here. Father just said to be on the lookout for protectors and romancers.”

  “You mean we need to be self-sufficient for a while until we’ve given the men of the town the message that we will manage very nicely without them?” Joanna said with a brief laugh.

  “That’s exactly it. And I reckon while we are all feeling so low and missing Father so much that it would be very easy to let some savior come in here and look after us all. And sure, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” Belle paused for a moment, trying to remember exactly how it was Father had put it all. “But we can’t trust our own emotions and own instincts about any man until our hearts have calmed a little bit. Sisters, we really don’t want any hasty marriages made out of fear, because those are the marriages we could come to regret. I don’t want to suggest that we can’t trust anybody or say that we are in some kind of danger, because that isn’t true. But we do have to be careful when following our feelings just now, and any decision we make about hired help needs to be made slowly and carefully. Remember, we know what we’re doing here. We’ve worked Crabtree farm our whole lives, since we were kids, and there is nothing we don’t know about crops and cows, right?” Belle had put on her most persuasive and enthusiastic voice and was pleased to see that both of her sisters sat up just a little straighter on account of it.

  “You’re right, Belle, we do know what we’re doing,” Joanna said and rose suddenly and decisively to her feet, as if she was about to go out and tend to the farm single-handedly. “And we don’t need anybody telling us that we can’t manage, because we can.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Belle said with a broad smile and found that even she felt a little energized by her own speech. “What do you say, Estelle?”

  “I say that I can do anything in the world as long as I have my big sisters by my side.” Estelle also rose to her feet, but somewhat more bravely and stoically than enthusiastically.

  “Right, well, the sun is up now, so let’s get at it, girls,” Belle said, and the three women made their way out of the farmhouse kitchen in higher spirits than they had entered it.

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  About the Author

  Indiana Wake was born in Denver Colorado where she learned to love the outdoors and horses. At the age of eleven, her parents moved to the United Kingdom to follow her father’s career.

  It was a strange and foreign new world and it took a while for her to settle down. Her mom raised horses and Indiana soon learned to ride. She would often escape on horseback imagining she was back in the Wild West. As well as horses, Indiana escaped into fiction and dreamed of all the friends she had left behind.

  From an early age, she loved stories. They were always sweet and clean and more often than not, included horses, cowboys and most importantly of all a happy ever after. As she got older, she would often be found making up her own stories and would tell them to anyone who would listen.

  As she grew up, she continued to write but marriage and a job stole some of her dreams. Then one day she was discussing with a friend at church, how hard it was to get sweet and clean fiction. Though very shy about her writing Indiana agreed to share one of her stories. That friend loved the story and suggested she publish it on kindle. Together they worked really hard and the rest, as they say, is history.

  Indiana has had multiple number one bestsellers and now makes her living from her writing. She believes she was truly blessed to be given this opportunity and thanks each and every one of her readers for making her dream come true.

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  Thank you so much for reading this book. I both love to write and to share my stories with you and hearing your wonderful comments makes the long hours all worthwhile. Until our next adventure keep well my friend xx

  ©Copyright 2018 Indiana Wake

  All Rights Reserved

  Indiana Wake

  License Notes

  This e-Book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold. Your continued respect for author's rights is appreciated.

  This story is a work of fiction any resemblance to people is purely coincidence. All places, names, events, businesses, etc. are used in a fictional manner. All characters are from the imagination of the author.


  This is the end of this book, I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I do so love to live the stories of the women of the Wild West. I send you love, until our next adventure.

  Indiana

 

 

 


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