A Family Arrangement

by Gabrielle Meyer

  He hadn’t put a date on the letter? She couldn’t blame him for the oversight. Right after his wife had died, he’d barely been able to put two thoughts together. “It must have been lost in the mail.”

  “Didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t come until now?”

  “Frankly, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Charlotte—and neither did Susanne. Not after the way you treated us when we said we wanted to marry.”

  Anguish passed over her brown eyes yet he couldn’t help but say what he had wanted to say for the past six years. “You broke Susanne’s heart when you didn’t give us your blessing and when you never once inquired about our marriage in your letters. Until her death—” He choked on the word and didn’t have the heart to tell her that Susanne had wept on her deathbed over their broken relationship. “She carried the pain with her until the end.”

  Tears fell down Charlotte’s cheeks but Abram didn’t wait for her response. Instead he continued up the stairs.

  He stopped at the top and took several deep breaths. He had always hoped to convey to Charlotte how much she had hurt Susanne, but it didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, he felt worse.

  With a sigh, he opened the door to his left and stepped into his modest-size bedroom. It had a large bed, a bureau, a rocking chair, the boys’ cradle and a washbasin. He had packed up all of Susanne’s things, except her Bible, and put them in a trunk, which sat at the foot of the bed. It had been too painful to have the memories surrounding him.

  Abram set down Charlotte’s trunk and then rubbed his whiskers as he surveyed the dust in the corners and the bedding that hadn’t been washed for weeks. Dirty clothes hung from the back of the rocker and the foot of the bed.

  The room needed some fresh air. He went to the single window looking toward the river and opened it, thankful for the mild November weather.

  With another sigh, he gathered up his clothing and piled it near the door and then threw the bedcovers over the sheets, hoping Charlotte wouldn’t come into the room until after dark.

  He stood for a moment, rolled his shoulders and looked toward the ceiling. “Lord?” It was more of a question than a statement. “Why did you let Charlotte come? Don’t I have enough trouble to deal with already?”

  He snatched up his clothing and strode out of the room and downstairs.

  Charlotte stood with her back to the stairs, a handkerchief hovering near her face.

  He moved past her and went through the kitchen and into the lean-to, where Susanne had kept her washtubs. He dumped his clothes in the corner, planning to get to them later. After Susanne’s death, Abram had devoted almost every waking moment to his business. It had been the only way to deal with his pain, but the housework had slipped.

  Charlotte entered the kitchen as he came back in. She was out of place with her extravagant dress and perfectly styled hair. She looked nothing like Susanne, who had been short and blonde. Charlotte had dark brown curls and she was tall and slender—almost too thin for his tastes. Her face would be pretty if it wasn’t scrunched up in disapproval all the time.

  He went to the cupboard and pulled out the coffee beans and grinder. “Feel free to take off your hat and gloves. We’re not going anywhere soon.”

  She didn’t move but her eyes roamed this room, as well.

  Abram assessed it as he ground the coffee beans, trying to see what she would see. The kitchen was a generous room with a long table, a cookstove and a large cupboard. Susanne had spent hours in this room preparing meals for him and the children. She hadn’t been a very good cook, but she had tried—he’d give her that. When he was able to hire his first laborer, she had taken on the extra responsibility without complaint. She had often told him she’d learned her work ethic from her sister, who had been forced to provide for them after their parents had died.

  He continued to turn the grinder, uncomfortable with Charlotte’s perusal. “Have a seat. I’ll get the coffee boiling and then fry up some bacon.”

  She took a handkerchief from her handbag and wiped the bench.

  He tried to ignore her as he fried the bacon and tended to the coffee—but it was almost impossible. Her presence filled the room, just as it had years ago when he’d first met her and Susanne at the Fireman’s Ball in Iowa City. He had actually noticed Charlotte first, with her tall, dark looks—but as soon as he had met the sparkling Susanne, his attention had been stolen.

  Neither one spoke as he prepared the simple meal. When it was ready, he went to the front door and clanged the large triangle dinner bell.

  The waterwheel was no longer spinning, which meant Caleb and Josiah would hear the call. Harry and Milt were delivering lumber to Fort Ripley, so they probably wouldn’t arrive back until after dark.

  He went into the house and found Charlotte had finally removed her hat and gloves and sat with her back rigid as she waited for the meal to begin.

  What would his laborers think of the pretty young woman in his home? Single females were so scarce, having one at his table would be a rare treat. If this one wasn’t so unreasonable, maybe they’d enjoy having her.

  Caleb and Josiah rushed in through the back door, as if they had been waiting for the call—and they probably had been. Both men drank up Charlotte’s presence like men dying of thirst.

  “Boys, this is my sister-in-law, Miss Charlotte Lee.” Abram set four mugs on the table. “Charlotte, this is Caleb and Josiah.”

  Caleb bowed and offered her a dimpled smile, his green eyes shining with appreciation. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lee.” If his easy demeanor and gregarious personality couldn’t charm Charlotte, then nothing would. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met such a lovely woman in my life.”

  Charlotte dipped her head ever so slightly with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

  Josiah pushed Caleb to the side in a great show of aplomb, his curly black hair falling over his forehead and into his dark eyes. He also bowed, unwilling to be outdone. “Lovely does not do you justice, Miss Lee. Gorgeous would be a more appropriate description.”

  This time her cheeks filled with color—yet still she did not smile. “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said.

  Undeterred, the young bucks took a seat across from Charlotte at the table, still vying for her attention with compliments.

  They were in their late teens and had come to Abram fresh off their family farms back East. Eager and energetic, they reminded Abram of himself when he’d left his parents’ home in Michigan eight years ago. He had been full of confidence and invigorated with optimism. Raised by a man who had founded the successful town of Cooper, Michigan, Abram had set out to make his father proud and start his own town. But it had been much harder than he’d realized and the reality of the obstacles had almost crushed his spirit as he went from Michigan to Iowa to Minnesota Territory.

  Father had died before Abram could prove himself—and then Susanne had died. The only two people who had ever believed in him, and he had disappointed them both.

  Now he must succeed for his sons.

  “Shall we say grace?” Abram asked.

  Charlotte closed her eyes and inhaled a slow breath. Her face lost all trace of grief and became almost serene.

  Abram dipped his chin to pray. “For this meal, and our lives, Lord, we are eternally grateful. Amen.”

  “Amen,” echoed the others.

  Abram opened his eyes and watched as Charlotte opened hers. Their gazes met for only a moment before Caleb and Josiah nabbed her attention again. They reached for the platter of bacon at the same moment and then handed it to Charlotte as one, grins on their faces.

  Charlotte suddenly seemed quite interested in them. “Maybe you gentlemen can help me.”

  They looked at each other, their grins growing.

  “We’d love to help,” Caleb said.

 
Abram picked up the coffeepot and poured the steaming brew into his blue-speckled mug. The aroma filled his nose and made his stomach rumble. He had stocked the pantry and cellar with a bountiful harvest, but he had little time to prepare a decent meal. For weeks all they had eaten was bacon and coffee. But with his appetite, he hardly cared.

  “Could one of you take me to Susanne’s children?”

  The coffee sloshed out of Abram’s cup and pooled on the table. “What?”

  Josiah and Caleb grinned. “Yes,” they both said at the same moment.

  “No,” Abram said with force. “I’ll take Miss Lee when I’m ready.” He wanted to be there when the boys met their aunt for the first time, and it would be impossible to go this evening.

  Charlotte let out a sigh and then took two pieces of bacon off the platter.

  The woman was definitely determined.

  Here, at least, was something they had in common.

  Yet a niggle at the back of his conscience suggested Charlotte wasn’t completely out of line in asking to take his boys. Susanne had never spoken an unkind word about her sister, and it didn’t surprise him that she’d want Charlotte to help raise the boys—but surely she didn’t want Charlotte to take them away from Abram. She wouldn’t want them separated by four hundred miles—which only left one solution.

  If Charlotte wanted to help care for the boys, she would have to stay in Little Falls.

  He hated to even contemplate such a thing, but the idea was there nonetheless.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte walked up the steep stairs, a lantern in hand, ready for bed. She was exhausted from a week of travel, but she didn’t know if she would sleep. The house her sister had written about was not what Charlotte had anticipated.

  She could overlook the filth and the farm animals roaming about, but it was the sparse furnishings and lack of amenities that had surprised her. Susanne had boasted about how well Abram provided for her—yet Charlotte had not seen anything other than the bare necessities.

  Charlotte pushed open the door on the left and shone the lantern into the interior. It was just as filthy as the rest of the house—and cold.

  She set the lantern on the bureau and crossed the room to close the open window. If Abram thought he could mask the stale smell, he was wrong. What the house needed was a thorough cleaning, and no amount of fresh air would change that.

  The room looked toward the west, where the Mississippi flowed under the light of a brilliant moon. Charlotte leaned against the window frame, hugging her arms about her waist, and allowed the weight of her grief to sting her eyes with tears. Would the pain ever subside?

  She glanced around the room. A small cradle sat in one corner and Susanne’s Bible lay on a table next to the bed, but nothing else marked her sister’s presence.

  Charlotte put her hand over her heart and sank down to the mattress. “Susanne, you had so many hopes and dreams.” She had written to Charlotte about their plans for Little Falls and their growing family. They had been living in Little Falls for three years, yet what did they have to show for their work? Had Susanne really believed Abram would build a town? How long would she have waited for him to succeed?

  Forever, because Susanne believed in her husband and his vision. That was why she had left with him even though Charlotte had begged her to stay. The day they’d left Iowa City, without saying goodbye, Charlotte had mourned as if Susanne had died.

  It had been just as painful as the day Charlotte’s fiancé, Thomas, had left Iowa City to go west in pursuit of gold. He had gone without saying goodbye and she had never heard from him again. She had half expected Susanne to never write, but thankfully her sister had kept up a steady correspondence.

  Charlotte didn’t bother to change into a nightgown.

  She locked the door and lay on the bed, curling up in a ball. Tears wet her cheeks and hair, and stained the pillow beneath her head. The last thing she recalled before falling asleep was the scurry of mice along the floorboard.

  * * *

  A rooster’s crow pulled Charlotte out of a fitful dream. Thomas had been calling to her, and when she’d raced toward him, he’d run away, taunting her to catch him if she could. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times before she recalled where she was.

  A knock came at her door.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Abram’s voice sounded just as stiff this morning as it had yesterday.

  She wished her stomach wasn’t growling so she could stay in her room and not face him. Instead she got out of bed and looked at her reflection in the dusty mirror above the bureau. Her hair stuck out in disarray, her eyes were still gritty from the late-night tears and her dress was wrinkled. She tried to smooth down her curls and tucked some wayward strands behind her ear, but it was no use.

  She checked inside her shoes for uninvited critters and, finding none, slipped them on and then unlocked the door. The smell of fresh bacon and coffee wafted up the stairwell. Was that all these men ate and drank?

  Charlotte descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. This time there were five men at the table instead of three.

  Two older men glanced up at her arrival, their coffee cups halting midway to their mouths. One had stringy gray hair and was missing all his teeth. The other had thick red hair and a freckled complexion.

  The one without teeth stood and then the other followed, their eyes a bit round.

  “Milt and Harry, this is Miss Charlotte Lee.” Abram set the coffeepot down on the table.

  The men nodded a greeting as she found her seat.

  Caleb and Josiah immediately began to tease her and try to draw her out, while Abram sat at the head of the table, his attention on his meal. His hair was in need of a cut and his beard should either be trimmed or shaved completely. She could hardly remember what he looked like without all that mangy hair. She did recall that he was handsome, and she clearly remembered the first time she’d seen him at a ball in Iowa City.

  He had walked into the hotel with an air of confidence few men his age possessed, and he had immediately caught her eye. It had been a year since Thomas had left, and she had been wary of romance, but when he had asked her to dance, she had accepted. The moment he spoke of his dream to prospect a town, she knew right away that he was like Thomas and her father, and couldn’t be trusted. After the dance she had tried to forget him, but it was impossible to ignore him when he came to call on Susanne.

  Yes, he was handsome, but that was the only thing she had understood about Susanne’s infatuation, though it wouldn’t have been enough for Charlotte to make her heart vulnerable.

  The meal finished and Abram rose. For the first time since she’d entered the room, he offered her his full attention. “I’d like a word with you outside.”

  “Are we going to the boys?”

  He put on his hat and coat and then stepped toward the back door. “I’d like you to see something.”

  She didn’t bother with her own hat or coat, which were in her room, but followed him out the door and into a barren yard. The bright morning sunshine almost blinded her with its brilliance—yet the air was much colder than she had thought. She wrapped her arms about her waist and allowed her eyes to adjust.

  Goats grazed nearby, munching on brown grass, while chickens waddled around and a pig snorted from a pen closer to the barn.

  Abram walked with a steady purpose up a gentle hill toward the east, away from the river and sawmill. A small grove of leafless birch trees stood off a ways with a white picket fence nearby.

  As soon as Charlotte realized his destination, her feet slowed. “Are you taking me to Susanne’s grave?”

  He continued to walk. “Yes.”

  Part of her wanted to see her sister’s final resting place—but the other part wanted to run in the opposite direction.


  Abram entered the small graveyard and stopped beside Susanne’s headstone. A clump of wildflowers, wilted, yet not completely dry, lay on the grave. Had he brought them recently?

  Charlotte slowly walked through the gate and stopped just inside the fence.

  “It isn’t much.” He swallowed, putting his hand on the dark granite. “I had to send away for the stone, but I was pleased when it arrived.” It had Susanne’s name, birth and death recorded in simple letters. Nothing more. But it must have been expensive.

  A lump gathered in Charlotte’s throat and she put her hands to her lips, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

  Abram turned to her, his shoulders slumped. “I know what you’ve always thought of me, but despite my shortcomings, Susanne somehow found a man to love.” He looked back at the headstone. “I never deserved her, and I told her that often. But she treated me like a king and made me very happy.” He put his hands in the pockets of his tattered work coat. “Maybe Susanne didn’t dream of settling a town before she met me, but she wanted it as much as I did when we came here.”

  Her sister had been just as optimistic as Abram—even if misguided and unrealistic. If Susanne hadn’t been in love, maybe she would have understood the dangers of life with a man like Abram.

  “As her husband, you should have taken better care of her.” Charlotte’s voice caught as she looked at the lone grave. “When she became sick, you should have brought her somewhere with a competent doctor, instead of leaving her here to die.” Father had done the same thing and they had lost Mama.

  “The military doctor came from Fort Ripley and he said there was nothing left to do.”

  “A military doctor? What does he know of female complaints?”

  “I did the best I could—”

  “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” A sob escaped her throat and she turned her face away from Abram, clutching the picket fence for support. “Not when she left Iowa and not when she died.” Her body trembled from the cold and grief.