The Gift of Twins

by Gabrielle Meyer

  “But don’t you think she’ll have more privacy at the hotel?” Ben asked. “The Hubbards’ boardinghouse is always full.”

  “Pearl will make room for her.” Mr. Samuelson’s voice suggested the debate was over. “And she’ll be across the road from me, so I can keep an eye on her.”

  Emmy suspected that was the real reason he wanted her at the Hubbards’ boardinghouse.

  “I’ll help you with your things,” Mr. Samuelson said to Emmy. “We’ll leave right now.”

  “We haven’t finished our breakfast,” Ben said.

  “Now.”

  Emmy smiled at Ben, offering him a quiet thank-you with her eyes. He had done more than he needed, and she was grateful.

  Without prompting, Emmy entered the enclosed stairway near the front door and went up to the room she’d slept in the night before. It was a spacious bedroom with a large bed, a bureau and a generous window. The bed had been warm and comfortable, and she’d had the best night sleep since leaving Massachusetts, given the circumstances. She gathered up her things as quickly as she could and placed them in her bag, and then she went back downstairs where the men were waiting.

  “Feel free to borrow the cap and scarf and mittens,” Ben said. “You’ll need them.”

  “Thank you.” She dressed for the outdoors, and when she was ready, she instructed them to bring the two trunks she needed most. She’d leave the one full of books at Ben’s to be picked up later. She lifted her bag and then followed them out into the snow.

  The cold air took her breath again, but this time she could see where she was walking. It was hard to get a good look at Little Falls with all the snow, but there would be time enough for that later.

  She followed close behind Ben, thinking of the evening before when he’d held her hand. He was a kind man and she could sense that they would be friends. It didn’t surprise her that he was a pastor. No doubt his parishioners loved him. She looked forward to attending church the following morning to hear him preach. She imagined he was good at that, too.

  Ben led her and Mr. Samuelson across the road and down a block. A large, brown house appeared in the falling snow. It was quite impressive, and not what she would have expected on the frontier. Where Ben’s home was modest and simple, this structure was overbearing, if not ornate. It was styled after the Greek Revival architecture and reminded her of some of the homes back east.

  “Timothy and Pearl Hubbard are one of the founding families in Little Falls,” Ben explained as they drew near the house. “You’ll like Pearl. She runs a respectable home. They have three children. They’ll be some of your students.”

  Excitement raced up Emmy’s spine at the prospect of meeting some students, despite the frigid air. She had taught for several years back east, but she suspected it would be much different in the West.

  A picket fence ran around the property and Ben unlatched the gate, allowing Emmy and Mr. Samuelson to pass by. Mr. Samuelson then went to the front door and opened it without knocking.

  Emmy stepped over the threshold and into the foyer. She was instantly met with the smell of warm spice cake and fresh coffee. A wide staircase ran straight up the right-hand wall, curving to the left at the top. Two archways flanked the foyer. The one on her left went into a front parlor and the one on her right looked into a dining room. Noise at the back of the foyer suggested a kitchen was in that direction.

  “Hello,” called a woman from the kitchen.

  “Hello, Mrs. Hubbard.” Mr. Samuelson set the trunk down with a thud. “We have a boarder for you.”

  A plain-faced woman entered the foyer, her middle thick with child. She wiped her hands on her apron as she came down the hall. She was a bit older than Emmy would expect to bear children, but she looked healthy and robust, if a little frazzled. Her dark hair was split down the center and dropped to cover her ears, before being secured at the back in a bun. She smiled a welcome to Emmy and offered Ben a fond glance, but she squared her shoulders when she met Mr. Samuelson’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but I’m full at the moment.”

  As if summoned, five boisterous men plodded down the wide stairs. They stopped short when they glimpsed Emmy, the ones in back plowing into the ones in front. All but one grinned like an idiot in her direction.

  “Is there nowhere to put her?” Mr. Samuelson asked, as if she was a piece of furniture to be stored.

  “Mrs. Hubbard,” Ben said graciously. “May I introduce you to Miss Wilkes, the new schoolmistress?”

  Pearl’s eyes lit and she took Emmy’s hand in a gentle squeeze. “The new teacher? Why didn’t you say so to begin with? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wilkes. I’m so happy you’ve come to teach our children.”

  “For the time being,” Mr. Samuelson amended. “Now, can you board her or not?”

  The men passed by and entered the parlor, though they didn’t make any noise, suggesting they were listening to the conversation in the foyer.

  “I suppose I can make room.” Mrs. Hubbard sighed. “We always have space for the teacher. You’ll need to room with Rachel, my serving girl. She sleeps in the room off the kitchen.”

  It wasn’t ideal. Emmy liked to spend her evenings studying and reading in solitude—but if it was all that was available to her, and meant she could stay in Little Falls, she’d make do. “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Hubbard eyed her two large trunks. “We’ll have to store your things in the attic. There won’t be any space in your room with Rachel.”

  “Store my things? Will they be safe?”

  “It’s just until another room becomes available,” Mrs. Hubbard assured Emmy.

  “When will that be?”

  “There’s no way of knowing. We have men in and out all the time.”

  “I’ll go home and retrieve your other trunk,” Ben said to Emmy.

  “There’s more?” Mrs. Hubbard asked.

  “All my books.” Emmy felt bad that she’d packed so much, but she couldn’t bear to leave anything behind.

  Mrs. Hubbard shook her head. “There’s not much room in the attic, either, I’m afraid.”

  “I’d be happy to store them for the time being,” Ben offered. “You could come for them anytime you’d like.”

  The thought of not having her books at her disposal made her uneasy—but one look at Mr. Samuelson suggested she leave well enough alone. “Thank you, Reverend Lahaye.”

  “If this storm passes, we’ll expect school to begin at eight o’clock sharp on Monday morning,” Mr. Samuelson said. “See that you’re there and ready on time.”

  “I will.”

  Mr. Samuelson tipped his hat at Mrs. Hubbard, and then at Emmy, though she suspected he did it out of habit and not a desire to be a gentleman, and then he left.

  “I’ll bring the trunks to the attic,” Ben said to Mrs. Hubbard. He turned to Emmy. “It’s been my pleasure, Miss Wilkes. I hope you’ll be happy here.”

  “Thank you.” She wanted to say more than thank you, but she couldn’t find the words to express her gratitude. If he had been any other man, she probably wouldn’t have a job right now.

  “Do my ears deceive me?” One of the men exited the parlor and put his hands over his heart. “Is this beautiful creature going to abide under the same roof as me?”

  “Mr. Archibald, remember your manners,” Mrs. Hubbard said. “Miss Wilkes is a lady.”

  “How could I forget?” Mr. Archibald took Emmy’s hand and bent over it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wilkes.” The other men followed Mr. Archibald out of the parlor. They circled her like a hungry pack of wolves, and she their prey.

  It would be quite a feat to hold them at bay—of that she was certain—but it was vital if she wanted to keep her job.

  Chapter Three

  Ben returned home, disliking the way the men had
surrounded Emmy. He’d seen it countless times before. As one of the only single females in town, she would be hounded incessantly. He didn’t doubt she could resist their charms—but it wouldn’t be an easy task.

  He trudged through the drifting snow, his thoughts full of the young lady and all that had transpired since last evening.

  A sleigh sat in front of Ben’s home. It was piled with furniture and household belongings. A man waited on the front bench, reins in hand, while half a dozen children sat huddled in the back. They looked as if they were just passing through. People often stopped by the church and parsonage for one thing or another, and he tried to accommodate everyone to the best of his ability.

  “Hello,” Ben called as he drew near the parsonage. Snow continued to fall, but it was letting up and would probably stop soon. Activity had begun to commence on Main Street, though most would still be home, digging out from the storm.

  A woman stood by Ben’s front door, two small children by her side. She turned when she heard Ben and grabbed each child by an arm. “Are you the pastor?”

  “I am.”

  The man on the buckboard gave Ben a cursory glance, but his attention was soon snagged by one of his children.

  “I need to talk to you, quick,” the woman said.

  “Would you and your husband like to step into the house?”

  “Norm will stay outside with the children, if it’s all the same to you. We don’t have much time and I’d like to get this over with.” The woman had brown hair with strands of wiry gray at the temples. She looked tired and worn—but there was grit in the way she held her thin shoulders.

  “Please step inside,” he said, opening the door.

  The lady walked into Ben’s home with heavy footsteps, pulling the two children with her. Now that he was close enough to see, he noticed they were little boys, about the same age, if he were to guess.

  Ben closed the door behind them, but didn’t make a motion to remove his hat, or invite her farther inside. “How may I help you?”

  “These here are my sister’s boys, Zebulun and Levi. They’re twins, five years old.” She grasped each one’s wrist. “Their ma died when they were three and their pa wasn’t fit to raise them, so she sent ’em to me.” She let them go and gave a decided nod. “My husband and me ain’t got the means or the energy to raise ’em no more. I’ve got six of my own, and one more on the way, and we’re just plumb wore out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Ben stood there expectantly, wondering why she’d come. Did she need money? He kept some on hand for situations like this one. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

  “You can take ’em off my hands.” She started to move to the door. “That’s why I’ve come and now I’m heading out with my man. We’re going north and want to get a move on before another storm takes us by surprise.”

  Alarm rang inside Ben’s head as he looked down at the two little boys. They clasped hands and looked up at him, their eyes round with fear.

  “I can’t take them.”

  The lady grabbed the knob. “I can’t take ’em, neither. Do what you want with them. I did what I could, and now I’m handing them off to you. I told my man that the first church we come across we’d drop ’em off, so here we are.” She turned the knob to leave.

  “Wait.” Ben reached out to put his hand on the door to stop her departure. “I don’t have a wife, or the means to raise them.”

  “Then find a family who needs a couple extra hands.”

  “But—I don’t even know their last name, or their kin. How am I to find their father?”

  She snorted. “That good-fer-nothing shouldn’t be found.”

  “But he deserves to know where his sons have gone.”

  “The name’s Trask—Malachi Trask—but I don’t know where he is. Last I heard, he was in St. Paul, but I suspect he moved on. Probably lying in a saloon somewhere west of here, I’d wager.”

  “Malachi Trask.” Ben repeated the name.

  “They’re not my problem anymore,” the lady said. “I did what I could, but I can’t do no more.” She nodded at the twins. “Goodbye, boys. I hope the pastor’ll do right by you.”

  She opened the door and Ben moved back, knowing he couldn’t keep her from leaving. He followed her out of the house, his pulse speeding up as she walked toward the sleigh.

  “How will I contact you?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t aim to be contacted,” the lady said, climbing into the sleigh. “I told my sister not to marry that man, but she went against my wishes. I don’t hold no responsibility for them boys she bore.”

  “Giddyup,” the man said as he hit the horses’ rumps with the reins.

  Neither one looked back as they pulled north, out of town.

  Ben stared after them, helpless to stop them and make them return for the boys. He didn’t know the name of the lady or her husband, but he suspected that was intentional. They didn’t want to be known.

  Ben turned back to the house, scratching his head with his mitted hand. What would he do with twin boys?

  He entered his house and found them exactly as he’d left them.

  Ben closed the door, apprehension making his back tight. He tried to smile, to reassure them that he was trustworthy, but they continued to look at him with those sad, fearful eyes.

  “You’re twins?” Ben asked, uncertain what else to say. They didn’t look like twins—didn’t even look like brothers, really. One had brown hair and round green eyes, while the other one had blond hair and almond-shaped green eyes. The brown-haired boy was shorter, but he was the one who nodded at Ben in answer to his question.

  The blond-haired boy just stared.

  “Which one of you is Zebulun?” Ben asked.

  The brown-haired boy raised his hand, just enough for Ben to acknowledge him. “And this is my brother, Levi.” He spoke with a bit of a lisp.

  “It’s nice to meet you both.” Ben slowly took off his coat, not wanting to frighten them with quick movements. Memories of the day his father had left him at the mission at Pokegama came rushing back unbidden. He hadn’t been much older than these two, and he’d been just as scared. Above all else, he remembered how hungry he was that first day, but he’d been afraid to ask for a thing. “Would you like something to eat?”

  The boys looked at one another, and then Zebulun nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s see what we can find.” He didn’t bother to ask if they’d like to take off their coats. He remembered feeling safer keeping his meager belongings with him when Father left. These boys didn’t even have a bag—just the clothes on their back, and threadbare clothes at that. Where had they sheltered the night before? Had they been cold? Scared? He hated to think that they had suffered through the storm, only to be abandoned today. But he suspected their suffering had started long before now.

  They slowly followed him, not letting go of one another, their eyes roaming his home.

  The breakfast he’d enjoyed with Emmy only an hour before was still on the table, cold and half-eaten. Ben cleared away the dishes and set them to the side, then he stoked the fire and put the frying pan over the heat. “Do you like eggs?” he asked.

  Zebulun nodded, but Levi shook his head. Ben smiled to himself. It was the first response he’d gotten out of Levi. “What do you like, Levi?”

  The little boy looked around the kitchen, his gaze resting on the bread and jam. “I like toast and jam.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll get.” Ben sliced a couple pieces of bread and looked at Zebulun. “What about you? Do you like toast, too?”

  Zebulun nodded.

  “Why don’t you two have a seat at the table. I’ll get some milk for you while we wait for the food.”

  The boys did as he suggested, needing to let go of eac
h other to take their seats.

  “Do you know your names are from the Bible?” Ben asked as he placed the bread on a pan to put into the oven.

  “Yes, sir,” Levi spoke up, confidence in his answer. “We’re tribes of Israel.”

  Ben’s eyebrows rose, impressed that a boy so young would know about the Tribes of Israel. Someone must have taught him.

  “My name is Benjamin,” Ben said, trying not to pay them too much attention, lest they get nervous, but trying to hold up the conversation to keep their minds preoccupied. “It’s also a Tribe of Israel.”

  Zebulun looked impressed, but Levi didn’t show any response to the revelation.

  Ben grinned. “We just need to find Asher, Judah, Naphtali, Reuben, Simeon, Issachar, Gad, Dan and Joseph, and then everyone would be here.”

  The boys looked at one another, clearly confused at the string of strange names he’d just said.

  Ben’s smile fell and he took a deep breath. What would he do with these boys? He wasn’t equipped to care for them, yet he didn’t know who could. Abram and Charlotte Cooper had just welcomed their fifth child less than three weeks ago, and Jude and Elizabeth Allen had their hands full caring for their twin girls, only two months old. With the national recession, and troubles closer to home, he could think of no one eager to take in two extra children. Ben had the financial resources—he just lacked the skill and experience, not to mention the help.

  The only thing he could think to do was go back to the Hubbards and ask Pearl for advice. She had become a surrogate mother in the community. An honorable woman of wisdom and discernment. If anyone could help, it would be Pearl.

  * * *

  The bedroom was smaller than Emmy anticipated, and there was only one bed she’d have to share with the girl named Rachel. There were four hooks on the far wall, a single window looking out at a snow-covered world, and a rag rug on the floor. The space was so tight, it would be almost impossible to dress properly without bumping the walls. She thought of the large room she’d slept in the night before at Ben’s home and sighed. How would she get the privacy she craved, or the necessary space to study here? A cursory glance around the house had suggested there were generous public areas—but those rooms would also hold men. Lots of men. Too many men for Emmy to get anything done if she took her books to the parlor or dining room to study. Maybe there was another space she wasn’t aware of. She’d be sure to ask Mrs. Hubbard.