by Carré White
Once in the kitchen, Mary and Susanna removed the items warming in the stove and placed them on the table; among them was a large plate filled with fried chicken and a bowl of mashed potatoes. There was gravy as well and beans.
“Heaven’s to Betsy,” exclaimed Fanny. “This is beyond what I expected.”
“It was mostly Susanna’s doing,” said Mary.
“We should eat now so we can have dessert,” said Connor.
“Let’s say grace then.” Peter placed a napkin in his lap. “Hurry up please. I’m starvin’.”
Jack pulled out a chair. “From the looks of it, it won’t be long before Jane’s good and married.”
That statement was a surprise, as I stared at him. “Why would you say that?” I sat next to Mary, who reached for the saltshaker.
“Oh,” he grinned, “just a hunch.”
“Things would go faster, if Wesley would propose,” said Fanny.
“That brings me to mind.” Jack got to his feet, scraping the legs of the chair on the floor. “I might have something for you.” He left the room, returning a moment later with an envelope. “We stopped in town on the way home. This might brighten your day.” He handed me the letter.
“Dear me!” It was always a treat to receive mail. I glanced at the return address, and it had been sent from Tarryall, which was in the mountains.
“Now, let’s say grace, so we can eat,” said Jack.
Once dinner had ended and the dishes washed, I excused myself, although I did not have privacy in the bedroom, as Mary and Susanna were changing into their nightclothes. I sat on a chair in the corner and read the letter.
Dearest Jane,
I am sorry I have been absent so long. I hope you can forgive me for this slight; it was not intentional. I’m writing to you now before I return to a stream we found near the South Platte River. I’m hoping it yields quite a few ounces. I am confident I’ll be a rich man by the time I return to Denver City. I have every intension of offering for you once I have achieved my goals. You are in my heart and mind and my prayers, Jane. I miss you dearly, my love. Even though I cannot be near you now, I am always thinking of you. I will return as soon as I am able.
Yours truly,
Wesley Hornsby
“What does he say?” asked Susanna, who ran a brush through her hair.
“He’s still looking for gold.”
“When will he come back?” Mary had dunked her hands to wash them in a ceramic bowl on the dresser.
“I don’t know.”
“Poor, Jane. She looks crestfallen now.” Susanna smiled sympathetically.
“I’m fine. I suspected he’d be gone longer. I’ll be too busy this week to concern myself with his absence. Hannah’s children will run me ragged.”
Mary sat on the bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Wouldn’t you rather have children of your own to mind?”
“I would, but I needn’t rush into it. There are plenty of Hoffman babies to love in the meantime. Paulina, Louisa, and Hannah’s children are nearly the same age. Then there’s Thomas and Charlie.”
“That’s because everyone had babies at the same time,” said Mary. “Now Louisa’s pregnant again.”
“Let’s say our prayers and go to bed,” said Susanna. “I’m all tuckered out.”
I reached into a drawer for my nightclothes. “You can start yours. I’ve got to go to the privy first.”
“Fine.” Susanna fell to her knees beside the nightstand.
When I returned, my sisters were in bed with the lamp turned down. I hastily brushed my hair and then knelt to pray silently.
Dear Lord, please watch over Wesley while he’s away mining. Please take care of him and protect him from danger. Thank you for bringing Fanny and Jack and Thomas home in good health and spirits. Thank you for all your blessings, and watch over those that are too weak to take care of themselves. Amen.
I shared a bed with Mary, lifting the blankets to slide between them. My mind continued to spin with thoughts. It would be a dream to have my own family. Then I could mind my house the way I see fit and have a large bookcase filled with my favorite novels.
Turning, I stared at the wall, although it was in shadow.
Does Wesley like to read? I don’t recall ever seeing a book in his hand. I’ve hardly time to read lately… Closing my eyes, I began to drift…floating…
We had the luxury of sleeping in the next morning, as the weekend was upon us, but Fanny and I were in the yard early doing laundry. The washtub held a washboard, upon which a weeks’ worth of clothing was scrubbed, until our hands were nearly raw. After each item was rung out, it was hung up, creating a long line of billowing fabric that caught the wind. Mary and Susanna took turns minding Thomas, which allowed us to finish the chore by lunchtime.
Jack tended the garden, fixing a fence that failed to keep the rabbits out. Then he sat at the dining room table with a Bible, working on a sermon for Sunday. Being the preacher for Denver City, he was expected to be prepared. I saw him seated, as I passed into the kitchen, but then I returned to speak to him.
“Jack?”
He lifted his head. “Yes?”
“The other day in town, something happened. It was disturbing.”
“What was it?”
“There’s a man here who’s half Indian. He was received poorly because of the way he looks. I spoke to him before, and he’s perfectly civilized.”
“That happens quite often, Jane. People are quick to judge. If he looks like an Indian, I can see why.”
I pulled out a chair, sitting. “A man threw a bottle at him. It was shocking.”
He nodded. “Some of these miners are rough and not too smart. What were you doing in town?”
“I took everyone to school. I was on my way home.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Couldn’t you mention something about it tomorrow? It’s unfair to judge someone solely on what they look like. This man didn’t deserve to be treated that way. He was nothing but helpful to us.”
“How do you mean?”
“When the wagon was stuck in the road, he helped us. He pulled it free. His name is Ryan Hartsock. Hannah knows him. He’s working for Nathan at the moment.”
He smiled. “Is there anyone in town they don’t hire?”
“They have that cornfield to manage.”
“You’ve had some adventures this week.”
“Not really. I’m just horrible with wagons. I attract ruts.”
“Women drivers.” His smile was infectious.
“That’s just rich. I know you want to make fun of me.”
“How many times have you done that now? Five? Someone needs to follow you around to rescue you.”
“It’s the first little accident I’ve had in a year. It’s hardly even worth mentioning.”
He sighed. “I’d like to meet this fellow. He seems to have made an impression on you.”
“Not at all. I was just dismayed at the way he was treated. No one should have bottles thrown at them.”
“People are wary of Indians, my dear. It’s no secret. We all saw the bodies of that family last year.”
“The Hungate family.” They had been brought to town, and everyone had seen what had happened to them. “I wish I hadn’t been there.”
“If we had any idea they would’ve been on display like that, we would have avoided Denver City for a week. It was rather gruesome.”
“Let’s not think about it anymore.”
“The atrocities are two-sided, Jane,” he murmured passionately. “We’re hardly blameless. No one wants to talk about our part in the mess, but they have no qualms showing off the handiwork of the Indians. My fear is that they’ll use these murders as an excuse to wage war on these people. That’ll only make things worse.”
“Then you’ll have plenty to preach about.”
“Yes, there’s never a shortage of material, especially now. With the war over, times are rough for so many. Gold has run out
in a lot of places and then the fire and floods. It’s been difficult for everyone.”
“But we won’t leave, will we?” I hated the thought of moving, as I had finally accepted this place as my home.
“No, Jane.” He smiled kindly. “We’ll remain in Denver City.”
“I hope Wesley wants to stay. I’d like to be near my family.”
“You didn’t always feel that way about us.”
Did he have to remind me? “I didn’t, but you’ve grown on me.”
“You’ve shown a great deal of resiliency, my dear. I’m proud to call you my daughter.”
“Bosh! I’m too old to be your daughter.” I sat straighter, daring him to challenge me.
“True, but then how do I classify you?”
“Houseguest is too impersonal. How about…oh, I don’t know.”
“Distant family? No. Just family. We needn’t even try to classify it.”
What was worse was that I had fancied him years ago, thinking he was handsome and sweet, which he still was. But, Fanny had won him over, and I never stood a chance. “So you’ll think of something to say tomorrow? People should try to be kinder, although I know some will never change their ways.”
“I’ll ponder it. It’s a timely matter to discuss, especially if this Ryan Hartsock person plans on staying in the area. In time, people will come to know him as a friend and not a foe.”
“But the drunken idiots at the saloon won’t see it that way.” I was mildly surprised by the fervor in my voice.
His gaze sharpened. “You have taken quite an interest in him. He’s made an impression on you.”
“Not really. People should remember to be kind. That’s all.”
“I see.”
“If you saw someone being treated poorly, you’d be appalled too, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course, Jane.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling quite satisfied with how the conversation had concluded. Yet, Jack continued to grin, his expression betraying amusement. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Ouf!” I got to my feet. “You’re having a laugh at my expense.” I had forgotten to see about lunch. “I’ve things to do.”
“It’s been wonderful having this talk.”
I harrumphed, while he chuckled, which grated on my nerves. We would banter back and forth for the rest of the day, with Jack saying frequently, “Ryan Hartsock is Jane’s new hobby.”
Goodness, he was annoying.
Chapter Four
By Monday, I was ready to start work at Hannah’s. As I trundled down the road towards the Weaver farm, I was awed by the sheer size of the property. Fields of wheat and corn stretched out on either side of the lane. Workers were in the fields now, some on horseback. I recognized Ryan sitting on top of his stallion.
I approached the residence, which stood across from a small bunkhouse. Stepping down from the wagon, I neared Sally Anne, releasing her from the harness. I’d leave her in the paddock to graze. I assumed Hannah was in the house with Letty and Charlie.
“Hello,” I said, as I went in.
“I thought that was you.”
“I’m all yours.” I took an apron off a hook on the wall in the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”
“I’ve bread to make and lunch to prepare. I managed to get breakfast done, but the dishes were awful. We’ve four workers now, including Nathan. They’ll be hungry for lunch. Then someone has to mind Charlie.”
“He seems fine now.” He sat in a chair, playing with his food, which were sliced carrots. Letty sat next to him with a book open, but her attention was on me. “Good morning.”
“Mornin’, Jane. I’m learning to read.”
“That’s wonderful, honey. We’ll have story time later too. I brought books.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I can’t wait, Miss Jane.”
“I’ve got a simple recipe for the bread,” said Hannah. She left a worn-looking cookbook on the table. “If you could get it started, I’d be much obliged.”
I reached for a ceramic bowl. “I need eggs and water.”
“And a sturdy arm. You’ll be kneading for a while.”
“How many loaves am I making?”
“Four.”
“Oh, my word.”
It wasn’t long before dough rose in four separate bowls, with towels draped over them. The kitchen smelled of yeast. Hannah had made a hearty pork casserole, and, after the bread had baked, lunch would be ready. We’d taken the children outside to do laundry, the chore being my least favorite. There were pants and dresses to be scrubbed over the washboard and rinsed. The items then went through a wringer to extract the excess moisture. These were hung on the line to dry.
By lunch, I was in need of rest, but it would have to wait. With Charlie on one hip and my hands full of dishes, I began to set the table for the workers. They were due in from the fields at any moment.
“Once the dishes are done, we can put the children down for naps,” said Hannah. “Then it’s our turn for some quiet. I’m dying for a cup of tea.”
“Maria is a godsend.”
“Oh, gracious, yes! That woman can manage the work of ten people. I miss her dearly when she’s gone.” She smiled kindly. “It’s easier on days when there’s no laundry. I don’t always work so hard.”
“I understand.” I gazed around the room. “Maybe I’ll have my own farm one of these days.” Charlie squirmed in my arms, and I set him down. “Or I’ll go back east.”
This statement had surprised her. “Why would you do that?”
“I’ve uncles and cousins who might take me in. I could continue my education. I sometimes miss the diversions of civilization.”
“Oh, so do I.” She smiled wistfully. “Ice cream and walks in the park and carriage rides. But there’s a beauty here that could never be matched elsewhere. We create our paradise wherever we are. Then it’s not so much the place, as the people who inhabit it. I could never leave Denver City now, especially since Nathan is here…and all my family.”
I lived with the Weavers for a while before Fanny married Jack. I remembered the sweetness of the connection Hannah and Nathan shared, and their affection had not dimmed over time. I’d been envious of their love, just as I had envied Fanny and Jack. I had once fancied Jack myself, finding him entirely appealing, but I had been too young. It was painful to witness firsthand how he had fallen in love with Fanny. Whenever he was in the same room with her, he always managed to touch her in some way, either on the arm or shoulder. I craved to know such affection, realizing that Wesley had seldom touched me, and then only to shake my hand.
Voices were in the backyard. “Here they come!” Hannah reached for Charlie. “Come here, darling. I’ll let him play in the other room so we can eat. You should put out the lemonade.”
Before entering the kitchen, the men washed outside, scraping the bottoms of their boots on the steps. They were rough-looking, smelly, and hungry. Mr. Hartsock removed his hat, his dark, gleaming hair falling to his shoulders.
Nathan grinned, exclaiming, “It sure smells nice.”
“Please sit,” said Hannah. “There’s a casserole. Help yourselves. There should be plenty.”
I poured lemonade into glasses, feeling the weight of manly attention. There wasn’t a wedding band on my ring finger, and this absence was duly noted.
“Thank you kindly,” said one of the men, reaching for a slice of bread. “It sure looks good.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Weaver,” said another. “I anticipate your lunches, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced my way. “You should take a seat, Jane. We can rest for a moment. Charlie’s with Letty.”
Nathan bowed his head. “Lord, thank you for this meal we’re about to receive. Your blessings are much appreciated. And thank you for sending me a wife who knows how to cook so well. Amen.” He grinned at Hannah.
Ha
nnah reached for the butter. “I’ve burned my fair share of dinners, my dear. I’m hardly perfect.”
“Yes, but it was still good.”
“My wife regularly burns our dinners,” said the man to my left. “Food is food. I ain’t gonna complain. Just scrape it off and eat it.” He popped a piece of bread into his mouth.
As I ladled out a spoonful of casserole, I sensed eyes on me. Lifting my head, I met Ryan’s stare. He was the only one who hadn’t begun to eat yet. Slightly bewildered and self-conscious, I brought the fork to my mouth, although it seemed as if every bite stuck in my throat.
“Is there any coffee?” asked the older of the men. “A cup would sure go down nicely.”
Hannah got to her feet. “I’ll put a pot on.”
“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Weaver.”
Nathan glanced at me. “I’m a numbskull. I’ve forgotten my manners. This is Jane Hampton, fellas. She’s gonna be helping Hannah this week while Maria’s gone. Jane, this is John Write, Dudley Hamlin, Wilber Booth, and Ryan Hartsock.”
They murmured greetings, although Ryan was silent. He’d not spoken a single word, and, by the time they had finished eating, the men left their plates in the sink, filing out of the room. Hannah and Nathan were in the parlor checking on the children, while I cleared the table.
“Thank you for lunch, Jane.”
I turned to find Mr. Hartsock behind me. I thought he’d gone, but I had been mistaken. “You’re welcome, sir.”
I thought he would say something else, but he stared bewilderingly, exactly as he had during the meal, which was more than unnerving. Those large, dark eyes were unreadable, but something had captured his attention, and I worried that perhaps there might be flour on my face or dough in my hair.
“Oh, bother,” murmured Hannah, who had returned. “We need to get Charlie down for a nap soon. He’s so fussy.”
Ryan snatched his hat off the back of the chair, placing it on his head. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
“Good afternoon, Ryan.” Hannah seemed amused for a moment, her eyes darting between us. After he had left, she quipped, “Someone sure has taken an interest in you.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” I reached for the bucket. “I’m going to get water.”