by Carré White
“Fanny will die, if she sees this mess,” I complained to Susanna.
“But, I haven’t finished my arithmetic yet. I have two pages left.”
“You should’ve done it at lunch.”
“I was eating!”
“Eat faster!” My hands were on my hips. “You’ll be working on homework all night.”
“Then I best get started.” She turned on her heel and left the room, while I fumed with anger.
“I’ll help you,” said Mary, who tied an apron around her waist. “We can put a dent in it in ten minutes.”
“She’s done nothing all week, the lazy little pest. And the boys are just as bad.” I could hear them above me, their booted feet pounding into the floor.
“Your troubles will be over tomorrow when Fanny returns. All things considered, I think we’ve done a fine job managing everything. It might not be as perfect as Fanny’s handiwork, but she’ll be proud of us all the same.”
Mary, being two years younger, was my confidant. “Fine. I’ll get the soap. You fill the sink with water.” When the dishes were done, we dried them, while chatting. “I’m looking forward to Wesley’s return. He’s been in the mountains for three weeks now.”
“Gold is harder and harder to find,” said Mary. “So many miners are quitting.”
“He’s thinking about working at the Trainer Ranch. I suppose, if we married, we’d be living there.”
Her happy countenance faltered. “But that’s so far away. It’s more than ten miles south. You can’t mean to live there.”
I shrugged. “I don’t wish to be so far out. It’s dangerous with the cattle raids, but, if he can’t mine, what will he do?”
“It all remains to be seen. You’ll need to discuss this with him when he returns,” she said wisely.
“I’ll be at Hannah’s next week. Their maid, Maria’s in Clear Creek again, and she needs help with Letty and Charlie.” Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman lived on the property, and they helped when they could, but they were advancing in age and not as robust as they had been. “Gosh, I’ll be busy. I’m never going to finish that quilt now.” It was only half done and collecting dust over the chair in the parlor. “And I’m behind on my reading.”
“We can read in bed.”
“There are never enough hours in the day.”
She flung her arms wide. “The kitchen is presentable now. I’ll just sweep, and it’s done.”
I hugged her. “Thank you, Mary. You’ve been wonderful. I have to make sure there are clean clothes for tomorrow. I hope Susanna’s finished her homework.”
“That task I don’t envy.” A broom was in her hand.
“Me either.”
An hour later, when everyone was getting ready for bed, I held a lamp on my way to the outhouse. This was my least favorite activity, but necessity drove me to it. On the way back, I thought I heard a noise in the field, so I held up the light. Coyotes frequently loitered, brought in by the smell of the chickens, but, if they lurked in the distance, I did not see them. The warmth of late spring made the trek to the privy an easy feat, but the same could not be said in the winter, when often there would be several feet of snow. Once in the house, I turned the lamp down, hearing talking and laughter above my head. The boys would chat for a while before falling asleep.
I joined my sister, Mary, in the bed we shared, while Susanna was on a cot across the room. For some strange reason, I didn’t want to be alone tonight, forgoing the use of Fanny and Jack’s bed.
“Did you have any difficulty?” she asked.
“No. It was fine.”
“I’m debating whether to go myself.”
“I left the lamp on the kitchen table.”
“I’ll think about it.” She yawned. “Gracious, I’m tired.”
I grasped the blanket. “Me too.”
“Did you say your prayers, Jane?” asked Susanna.
“Oh.” I tossed the blankets back, sliding to the floor. “No. Thank you. I’d completely forgotten.”
Getting on my knees, I whispered my thanks to God for looking after us this week, asking Him to bring Fanny and Jack home in good health. I also prayed for my future fiancé and his safe homecoming. When I returned to bed, Mary had already drifted off to sleep. I stared into the darkness, knowing that I was the only one awake. Sometimes it was difficult to sleep, as thoughts assailed me, mostly memories of years before. Being the oldest, I remembered my parents, especially my mother, a gentle, fragile soul, and my father, who was seldom home. After he died, mother had bravely chosen to homestead to the Kansas Territory, the images of being on a wagon train drifting through my mind. My uncle, Jason, had been a stranger to me, until my mother had passed away from illness. We had been handed off to Jason then, but he was hardly equipped to deal with five unruly children.
I spent many years feeling unwanted and abandoned, passed along from person to person. Even after Fanny and Jack had married, I could not help feeling that some other calamity would strike, and we would have to fend for ourselves again. It was difficult to trust people, because others had not lived up to my expectations. These last three years had been mostly peaceful, as Fanny and Jack worked to integrate everyone into a functioning family. She had tried her best to make us all feel welcome, and I had resisted at first, but now I had come to see their home as my own.
But…the loneliness persisted, which was perplexing…
***
In the morning, I was in the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone. Mary found me at the cook stove. “It only took a week, but the schedule is perfect now.” Her smile was mischievous. “We’ll be on time, finally.”
I gave her an annoyed look. “It’s disgraceful.”
“So it is,” she laughed. “Better late than never.”
“When do you think they’ll arrive? If they won’t be here until supper, I’ll have to prepare something.”
“We’ll think of recipes on the way to school.” She took a plate down from a shelf. “Now, what’s to eat?”
“Scrambled eggs and bread.”
“Simple, yet hardy.”
“That was my thought.”
Peter and Connor joined us moments later, while Susanna dallied as usual. After we had eaten and things were put away, everyone clambered into the wagon, and we were on our way. The school year was rapidly drawing to a close, and the children would have the summer off. Then they would find themselves with various jobs, just like all the other children whose parents lived on farms.
After I had taken them to school, I set my sights on Hannah’s property, wanting to speak to her about the coming week. She needed assistance with the children, while Maria was away, and I had promised to help. She lived near Louisa, who was married to a furniture maker named Matthias Montgomery. They had four children and another on the way. Paulina and her husband, Samuel, lived further on, but the families were all within an easy mile or so. Although I was Fanny’s stepchild, I was still considered a part of this large, extended clan, and the elder Hoffmans viewed me as a grandchild. Brunches on Sunday were enormous gatherings, typically hosted by Paulina and her husband.
Hannah had been the first to arrive in Denver City, although she lost her husband to sickness. After her remarriage, she’d settled happily, as, one by one, her sisters had arrived. Then, not wanting to live without their children, the parents had joined them. Hannah’s farm was the largest of them all, as Nathan had found gold prospecting years earlier and they were able to add to it by several acres. Although they continued to grow corn, they had also brought in more cattle, and, as the wagon ambled onto the property, approaching the barn, I spotted cows grazing in the distance.
Tying the horse to the hitching post, I headed for the front porch of a two-story dwelling. “Hello!” I knocked, but found the door open, so I entered. “Hannah!” The home smelled of bread, which was typical, seeing that it had to be baked daily, sometimes twice. “Anyone home?” I wandered towards the kitchen, finding the room empty. The cook stove fe
lt warm. It had been used not that long ago. Stepping out the backdoor, I spied Hannah hanging clothing on the line, while Letty supervised her baby brother, Charlie. He was on a blanket with several wooden toys. “Hello!”
Surprised, Hannah’s head snapped in my direction. “Jane!”
“I wondered where you were.”
Her smile was warm. “Is Fanny home yet?”
“No.” I strode towards them. “Hello, Letty. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Miss Jane. I’m playing with my brother, but he’s been fussy today.”
The three-year-old stumbled to his feet. “Me go play!” He ran in the other direction.
“Oh, stop him,” said Hannah. “Letty, go get your brother before he gets lost in the cornfield again. That silly boy.” She glanced at me. “He loves running around in there.”
“The stalks aren’t very high yet.”
“No, but still high enough to hide him.”
“I can help you with those.” I glanced at the basket of damp clothing at her feet. “You’ve been busy.”
“All I do is laundry. Look at my hands.” She held out her fingers. “They’re dry and cracked and awful. I hate washing clothes. It’s the worst job on earth, but with two little ones, I’ve no choice. Charlie makes a mess out of everything.”
“Where’s Nathan?”
“In the field with the new ranch hand.”
I grasped a shirt, using a wooden clothespin to clamp it on the line. “This won’t take long.” Then I reached for another.
“If you could come on Monday, that’ll be wonderful. That way I can get things done so much faster without all the interruptions.”
“I’ll be here as soon as I take everyone to school.”
“Have you had any trouble this week? I was worried about you being alone.”
“We're fine. Peter knows how to handle a rifle, but we’ve not had a need for it.”
“Those coyotes get in the chicken coop again?”
“No, not after the fence was fixed. It’s just the rabbits we have to worry about. They always find a way into the garden, the rascals.” There was movement out of the corner of my eye. A man approached carrying a child. Letty ran behind him. I gasped, not being able to hide the reaction, because for a moment, it looked like an Indian—and it was, but then…it couldn’t be. “Oh, my.”
Hannah glanced over her shoulder. “That’s our new ranch hand, Ryan Hartsock. Don’t be alarmed. He’s part Ute, but perfectly safe.” She grinned, waving. “Looks like you found him.”
Charlie was over his shoulder, the toddler screeching with pleasure, as the lanky stranger approached. He held him with one hand wrapped around a thigh, while Letty followed, having collected several colorful weeds.
“I found flowers.”
“You can put them in a vase, if you want.”
She seemed delighted by this idea, hurrying for the kitchen door. “I will.”
“Jane, this is Ryan.”
He held out a hand, and I shook it. “We’ve met before.”
This seemed to surprise Hannah. “You have?”
“Yes, on the road the other morning. Our wagon was stuck in a rut, and he helped us.” Charlie was still in his arms; the child seemed to enjoy being held. “I saw you in town too. That man—he was rude to you. I’m sorry.”
He blinked. “No need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” The timber in his voice was husky, yet pleasing.
“What happened?” asked Hannah.
“Someone threw a bottle at him. It almost hit me too. The drunkards in town are getting worse.”
“It’s more than just drink.” Hannah was less than pleased; her mouth had turned down. “They see someone who looks Indian and have a conniption fit. Everyone is on edge because of what happened to that poor family last year.” She was referring to the Hungate murders. The bodies of the slain family had been brought to Denver City to shock the masses into taking action against the Indians, mainly driving them further out.
I couldn’t help wondering about Ryan’s history and what had happened to his mother and father, or perhaps they were still together and living somewhere. It would be improper to question him about this so bluntly, so I asked, “And you’re working here?”
“For the summer, yes.” Charlie had begun to squirm, and he placed him on the ground, giving him a playful tap on the butt.
“We always need help with the corn,” said Hannah. “I’m not sure if we’ll get enough water this year. We might have to do it by hand.”
“Oh, that won’t be good. What a chore.” The wind gusted at that moment, forcing me to adjust the bonnet. The movement caught Ryan’s attention, as he stared steadily.
“Is Nathan still in the field?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be going back.” He tipped his hat. “Good day, ladies.” He turned, striding towards the fence.
Hannah smiled peculiarly, and I couldn't help asking, “Is something funny?”
“He’s handsome, in a dark, mysterious way, don’t you think?”
That statement was surprising. “What?”
“He seems to find you interesting.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense.”
“He’s not much older than you are. I believe he’s nineteen.”
“How nice.” I did my best to seem disinterested, although I longed to know more about him.
She picked Charlie up, taking grass out of his hands. “Stop that. You can’t eat that. Let’s feed you. I’ve some freshly baked bread. I’ll make tea.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Then you can ask me more about Ryan.” She grinned; a teasing gleam was in her eye.
I wanted to object, shocked that I had been seen through so easily. But my interest was merely natural curiosity. I’d never seen a half-breed man before, and it was perfectly normal to want to know more about such a fascinating life, wasn’t it?
Chapter Three
Hannah had only been teasing me. She knew very little about Ryan Hartsock, other than that this mother was deceased. His father would remain a mystery. I wasn’t able to stay long, because I had to tidy the house before Fanny and Jack arrived. Luckily, my siblings hadn’t been too messy, and there was minimal sweeping and dusting to be done, but the laundry had grown alarmingly. That chore was better suited for two people, and I would wait for Fanny’s return. We typically shared the washing.
After I had retrieved my siblings from town, Fanny and Jack’s wagon ambled into the yard, while Jack jumped from his perch to help his wife and son down. We’d all gone to the porch to greet them, my brothers running out.
“Fanny!” cried Peter.
“Hello!” She held Thomas, who fussed. “How have you been?” She hugged Peter and Connor, who then ran to the back of the wagon to help unload their things. “You all seem hale, but this one is out of sorts. I need to put him down. He cried for the last hour.”
“I’ll take him,” offered Mary, holding out her arms. “I can do it, if you like.”
“Oh, thank you.” She wore a green traveling outfit with a matching bonnet. “I’m exhausted. I hate to admit this, but we should’ve left Thomas at home. He was a trial for everyone. He never sat still.”
Fanny and I had gotten off to a rough start three years ago when she became our guardian. She had been married to my uncle briefly, and then she had inherited us after his death. It had been rather shocking to discover she was now the mother of five children, although Mary and I hadn’t been all that young. We had made our peace a long time ago, and now I had come to see Fanny as an equal, mostly because we were close in age. Technically, she was my mother, but we were more like sisters.
I embraced her. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you.” She entered the house, removing her bonnet, while I was a step behind. “Everything looks so clean. I had expected a disaster. I would’ve understood. Managing Peter and Connor is no easy task.” Her gaze lingered on me. “Something smells delightful. What have y
ou done?”
“It was Susanna’s idea. She made fried chicken with mashed potatoes, and Mary made the cherry cobbler.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh, my! That’s so thoughtful of you. It smells delicious.”
“We’ve been waiting for you,” said Susanna. “The boys are anxious to eat.”
“I’m sure they are.”
“How was Golden City?” I asked. “Did you have any adventures?”
“I’ll tell you all about it at dinner. It was lovely to see a new place, but they’re all terribly isolated up there. The winters are harsh, as you can imagine. We’re lucky to be where we are.”
Peter and Connor brought in the trunks along with several crates. “What are in those?” I asked.
“It’s mostly venison. It’ll need to be taken to the icebox soon. We’ll have meat for quite some time.”
“I love venison stew,” said Connor.
She ruffled his messy hair. “You’d eat anything. We’ll have lots of venison stew then.”
“Yummy!”
“I think that’s it,” said Jack, who removed his sack coat. “All done.” He stood in the parlor grinning. “What is that smell?”
“Susanna’s made supper for us.”
He glanced at his wife. “And you were worried she’d burn the house down. It looks like she’s done rather well. How was everything?” He’d directed that question at me.
“Fine. We had a little mishap with the wagon the other morning, but other than that, things went smoothly.”
“Excellent. I think we should eat.”
“We certainly should,” agreed Connor. “We’ve been waiting an hour to have supper.”
“Oh, goodness.” Fanny waved to him. “Then let’s set the table quickly.”
“That’s been done already,” said Susanna.
Peter and Connor followed Fanny into the kitchen, with Mary and Susanna in tow. Jack’s hand was on my back. “Thank you for watching over things. You’ve done a fine job.”
His praise was appreciated. “You’re welcome.”