Her Believing Heart
Vicki Hunt Budge
Eastwood Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Vicki Hunt Budge
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For my Grandma Hunt
Introduction
Nellie Gardner is ecstatic when her father hires dashing Evan Howell to help with a summer road survey. Some people say Evan will turn out like his father, a vagabond who disappears for months, and doesn’t support his family. Nellie will be the judge of that when she cooks for the survey crew in some of Idaho’s wild, untamed territory.
Evan has wanted to marry his best friend for years, but he comes from the poorest family in town and Nellie’s family is one of the wealthiest. Evan is determined to work hard for the survey crew. He will do almost anything to help provide for his mother and younger sisters, and he will do whatever it takes to win the hand of the lovely Nellie Gardner.
Will the summer survey be enough time for Nellie to sort through her concerns about Evan? Will the most grueling job on the survey crew allow Evan to earn the respect of the girl he loves?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Author’s Note
The Next Book
Also by Vicki Hunt Budge
Acknowledgments
About the Author
* * *
It was the compass and chain
that won the west,
not the six-shooter!
David Garcelon
1
Nellie Gardner and her younger sister, Ruby, brought two of the family horses out of the barn, stopping them several feet in front of a large wagon. The girls worked quickly, gently placing the horse collars over the horses’ heads and twisting the collars around to the correct position. After buckling the traces to the collars, Nellie scanned the barn’s open doorway. She could hitch a horse to a wagon as fast as any man, but she wouldn’t decline assistance from dashing Evan Howell if he offered to help.
Evan and Charlie Gardner, Nellie’s twin brother, busied themselves on the other side of the barn sharpening tools for a day of weeding in the potato fields. “Do you need help?” Evan called, dropping his hoe and hurrying over to Nellie and Ruby.
“Thank you,” Nellie said, brushing a lock of blond hair behind her ear. It was tempting to stand back while Evan finished harnessing the horses. For one thing, she could watch him while he worked. She rubbed Sage and Venus along their necks, gave them each a small carrot, and smiled at Evan. It went against her character to act weak around boys, so she added, “I’ll help you. These gentle ladies may tower over me, but they usually do whatever I ask.”
“I don’t blame them,” Evan said. “I’d do whatever you asked too.”
Color rose to Nellie’s cheeks. She had known Evan since her family trekked to Idaho ten years ago when she was nearly nine. Although Evan had been more than a year older than Nellie and Charlie, he had been kind to them on their first day of school. He’d given Nellie a wildflower, and he’d given Charlie a shiny marble. The three of them had been best friends ever since. Nellie still had the flower pressed in the family Bible along with remnants of other wildflowers Evan had given her over the years.
Nellie motioned for Ruby to step aside while she helped Evan finish harnessing the horses and hitching them to the wagon. Her hand touched Evan’s every time she handed him a strap or the lines, sending ripples of warmth through her and color to her face. “I’m driving Ma and the girls into Clover Creek,” she said, hoping a little conversation would calm her heart. “We’re making quilts for the church bazaar.”
Evan tipped his hat. “That’s right kind of you,” he said. “And I’m getting paid by your pa to hoe spuds, so I’d better get out to that field with your brother and start working.” He grinned and took off on a run to join Charlie.
“Well that was clever,” Ruby said, rising from a bale of hay near the barn. “Batting your eyes and getting Evan to help with the horses. He’s so good-looking. Too bad his family’s so down-and-out poor.”
Nellie clenched her jaw to prevent herself from making an unkind retort. She didn’t like anyone talking about Evan’s family as if being poor were a disgrace. “Evan takes care of his Ma and sisters,” was all she said.
Ruby bolted for the house, and Nellie watched Evan bend to the task of hoeing weeds out in the field. There was something about Evan that intrigued her. It was more than his friendship and good looks. She couldn’t place her finger on exactly what she liked, but there was something that made him stand out from the other boys in the area. The fact that he came from the poorest family in the community did bother her. Evan’s father was a known wanderer and gambler, who didn’t support his family. How many times had Nellie heard some of the women in town say that Evan was destined to be just like his father?
Nellie walked Sage and Venus a few steps, tightened the girth straps, and pulled two more carrots from her apron pocket. After rechecking all the straps and buckles, she climbed onto the wagon and drove it over to the back porch. With two fingers in her mouth, she let out a shrill whistle and jumped down to wait for her mother and sisters. One by one, all seven of her younger sisters trooped out through the kitchen door, talking, laughing, and carrying baskets of sewing supplies and food. Nellie helped them arrange their baskets in the wagon, and then waited for her mother.
“I wish you wouldn’t whistle like that,” Mrs. Gardner said as she settled onto the wagon seat beside Nellie. “It’s so unlike a lady. You should have come into the house and offered to help everyone out to the wagon. That would have been much more dignified.”
“I know, Ma,” Nellie said, “and I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . well, when you’re trying to round up seven sisters, whistling is just more efficient. Pa and Charlie both do it when we’re out working in one of the fields.”
“Were your sisters and I out in a field?” Mrs. Gardner asked.
“No . . . you were in the house.”
“See the difference?”
Nellie smiled and nodded at her mother. Mrs. Gardner was a perfect lady, and even though Nellie had the energy of a new colt and worked as hard as her brother, she wanted to be a lady like her mother. One thing was certain; thanks to the quilting bee today, Nellie and her sisters would sit in a lovely home, visiting with ladies from the community, instead of hoeing spuds in the hot sun alongside Evan and Charlie.
Nellie turned to make sure her sisters were settled in the back of the wagon before she started the horses walking. She stopped by her father’s workshop next to the barn where he was working on plans for the upcoming survey route. Mr. Gardner walked out to see his wife and daughters off.
“Have a fun day,” Mr. Gardner said, reaching into the wagon to kiss his wife on her cheek. He didn’t get away with only one kiss. Every girl scrambled to the side of the wagon to receive a kiss on the cheek, including Nellie. Then Nellie started the horses walking again. The girls all waved to Evan and Charlie as Sage and Venus clopped down the dirt road toward town.
Over the last few years, Nellie’s father had hired Evan to work for him whenever he needed extra help with the farm. This year, with the girls going into town for a whole day, and a big land survey starting the following week, Mr. Gardner had hired Evan to hel
p with the farm and with the survey.
Working in the spuds might not have been such a bad thing today. The thought made Nellie smile, and she turned for one last glimpse of Evan working beside her brother. She turned back to watch the road, and started humming a pleasant tune.
“You’re certainly chipper today,” Ruby said.
“It’s a good day,” Nellie replied. She kept humming as she thought about her father’s survey crew camping in the wild and mapping out a new road for the next few weeks. This was her fourth year to cook for the survey crew, but this year was the most exciting survey yet. Evan Howell was going along to help with the survey.
She would see him every day for weeks!
The sun drew high in the eastern sky as Sage and Venus pulled the wagon away from the homestead. The large two-story house and outbuildings lay nestled close to a tall lava ridge jutting out of the flat plain. The ridge formed a natural wind break for the buildings. Behind the ridge, gentle hills rose, and in the far distance in several directions, rugged mountain peaks filled the landscape. On the other side of the hills behind the homestead, lay a small valley with good soil. Mr. Gardner had been hired by the state of Idaho to survey for a road across that valley. More and more farmers were coming to the area, bringing their families, and wanting to settle on the unbroken land.
Mile after mile of the Snake River plain stretched in front of the ridge as Nellie guided the horses toward Clover Creek. The plain had proven so fertile for alfalfa hay, potatoes, and other crops that little by little, weary pioneers on the Oregon Trail had started ending their journey in southern Idaho wherever water was available. Scrubby trees, sagebrush, and more lava rock dotted the landscape along with fields, homes, and outbuildings. When the Gardner wagon arrived at a crossroads, Nellie turned the horses to the right for the short ride into town. They hadn’t gone far when they crossed a wooden bridge over the creek.
Inhaling a breath of sweet-smelling air, Nellie smiled as they rode beside the creek. It was a beautiful summer day and the creek bubbled along lazily. The Gardners hardly needed to drive all the way into town for a quilting bee, for there were enough Gardner girls to have a quilting bee in their own parlor. But Nellie’s mother liked the girls to serve others, and all of the proceeds from selling the quilts were to be donated to needy families in the community.
Mrs. Gardner also liked the girls to practice their manners in social situations. Nellie could hear her mother’s words in her mind. She had grown up with those words over the years. “Just because we’re a big rowdy family doesn’t mean that we don’t have any manners.”
* * *
When Nellie and her family arrived at Jepson’s mercantile, Nellie tended to the horses while her mother and sisters went upstairs to the Jepson family living quarters. The Jepson’s son, George, met her behind the store and helped her with the horses.
“You look right smart, Nellie,” George said. “Is that a new dress you’re wearing?” Without waiting for her answer, he continued. “You should always wear blue. It brings out the blue in your eyes. You have enchanting eyes.”
Nellie blushed. A lot of people told her she looked nice in blue and that it brought out the color of her eyes. But since she was wearing an older blue gingham, it seemed to her that George was intentionally complementing her simply to win her favor. Perhaps, he was fishing for a compliment too. He did look rather stylish in his white shirt, light trousers, and a black bowtie at his neck. Over the shirt, he wore one of his colorful silk vests.
“Thank you, George,” Nellie said, smiling. “You look nice too. I like your vest.”
“It’s quite new. Came in yesterday in an order from New York.” George puffed out his chest and turned slightly, reminding Nellie of the models in her mother’s mail-order catalog.
“Do you like my two-toned shoes?” George added, sticking one foot out in front for her inspection. “They came in yesterday too.”
Nellie tightened her upper lip to keep from giggling. “I love your boots,” she said once she felt like she could speak without a snicker. She didn’t care for George’s pompous attitude when it came to dress and appearance. She liked the straightforward way her parents raised her and her siblings. Her parents dressed neatly and they had a nice home, but they never tried to say or do things to make themselves look fancy or better than other people in the community. George Jepson, although always considerate to her, cared more about his clothing and appearance than most people she knew.
And he wasn’t always the most caring person in town when it came to other people.
“Well, I’d better join the ladies at your mother’s quilting party,” Nellie said, smiling at George once again. “Thank you for helping me with the horses.”
After Nellie climbed the stairs to the Jepson family living quarters, she saw two quilts in frames, ready for lively fingers. One quilt top was patched together squares of colorful fabric. The other top had two triangles of fabric pieced together to form a square. Both tops were ready to be quilted, and sure to bring a sense of warmth and joy to a family in the community.
Laughter filled the air as about twenty-five ladies and girls chatted and enjoyed each other’s company. The dining room table, already set up for the luncheon with an ornate embroidered tablecloth, looked lovely. The centerpiece, a porcelain vase filled with yellow roses, added a sweet fragrance to the room. Three bundles of stick candy to be given out later as door prizes perched next to the vase. Mrs. Jepson proudly informed her guests in her nasal voice that, “the tablecloth and vase are heirlooms and both are over a hundred years old.”
The smell of baked apples and cinnamon permeated the room, causing Nellie to think about Evan, Charlie, and her father. Her mother had left stew simmering on the stove top for them to eat and bread baked from yesterday, but no apple pie. Mr. Gardner loved apple pie, and so did Evan and Charlie. Nellie’s eyes brightened as an idea formed in her mind. I’ll bake pies to take on the survey. There’s room in the wagon to squeeze in Ma’s pie safe.
Nellie didn’t understand why thoughts of Evan and the survey job kept intruding on her mind. But for some silly reason, as she entered the Jepson’s home with all the sprightly talk and laughter, she wished she were back home hoeing weeds in the hot sun with Evan.
“Come sit by me, Nellie,” Lucretia Jepson called out, patting the chair next to her. Lucretia, a friend of Nellie’s, had already positioned herself at the quilt frame near a large window. Soon all the guests were seated at the quilt frames or along the sidelines piecing more quilt blocks together. “Tell me all the news since I saw you on Sunday.”
Nellie tapped her fingers to her lips. There wasn’t much news to tell. Lucretia already knew about Mr. Gardner’s survey job, and that Nellie and one of her younger sisters would be going to cook for the crew. Nellie was excited to be part of the camping trip in the outdoors, but Lucretia wouldn’t want to hear about that. Lucretia was an indoor girl, whose interests were clothes, boys, and more clothes.
Other than family fun in the evenings, it was just work, work, work around the Gardner house, and Nellie couldn’t think of anything exciting to share with her friend. “Um, our cat had kittens,” she finally said, remembering that small piece of news.
“I have news from back east,” an older gray-haired lady said loudly, before grabbing the chair across from Lucretia. When she plopped into the chair, she bumped the quilt frame causing it to nearly topple into Nellie’s lap. Mrs. Stribling, a stalwart in the community, and practically a member of the Gardner family, settled into her chair. Her eyes twinkled as she fished in her dress pocket and produced a thin yellow envelope with loops and curlicues decorating her name and address.
“From my sister, Doris,” Mrs. Stribling said, waving her letter. “Don’t you just love how fast we get news from back east since the railroad came through? My sister and I used to number our letters. That way we tracked which ones we got and which ones got lost. Far too many of our letters were never seen again. Hmm, now that I thi
nk about it, one of my latest letters probably got lost somewhere along the way, and that’s why my sister thinks I haven’t written lately. Perhaps we’ll have to start numbering our letters again.”
Lucretia looked at Nellie and raised her brows as Mrs. Stribling took a deep breath, preparing to read her letter. But the woman paused as another thought seemed to take charge of her mind. “Some people say I should move back east and live with my sister since Mr. Stribling passed last winter, but you know, I don’t want to move. Clover Creek is my home. All my friends are here, and my Walter is buried here.”
Nellie felt a kick against her foot. She looked at Lucretia, who grimaced and batted her eyelashes, implying that she had heard enough about Mrs. Stribling and her sister. But Mrs. Stribling pressed on, and began reading in her rather loud voice.
“My dear sister, Rolla,” Mrs. Stribling stated clearly, looking up and nodding her head at Nellie and Lucretia. “Did you know my first name is Rolla. It’s short for Rollalinda, but I never go by that name.”
Lucretia sighed, but Nellie smiled. “Rollalinda is a beautiful name,” Nellie said.
“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Stribling purred, and then once again started reading her sister’s letter. “I was happy to get your letter. I was beginning to wonder if they have pen and paper out there in Idaho. I’m still upright, but not getting out of the house except for my bridge club, and when my grandson, Harvey, comes to get me for Sunday dinner. I wish Sunday came every day. Harvey and his friends went for a tramp in the woods recently and ran into poison ivy. Did you know cucumber calms the poison ivy rash, and banana peel cools the itch? Harvey wouldn’t let me pour apple cider vinegar on his rash, so the poison spread. Young people—I don’t know about this upcoming generation.”
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