Harriet's Hope (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Series Book 8)
Page 6
Harriet hesitantly looked to Kate and then to the other children. “I would, but I have to watch your siblings.”
“Oh, they’re fine. Isabella is eight you know, so she can look after herself. George too. They always go fishing by themselves.”
Harriet smiled. “All right then, let’s go. As long as you can find your way back here.”
“I know the way. Trust me.” Kate smiled up at her, and took her hand. It was small in Harriet’s but she held tightly as they walked along the bank of the creek in search of flowers.
“Do you know where the flowers are?”
Kate nodded. “Yes, there’s one spot where they always grow the best because there’s a break in the trees.”
“You sure are smart, you know?”
“Well obviously I am. I’m five now. When I was four, I didn’t go to school, so I wasn’t smart.”
“Oh, Kate.” Harriet laughed, walking easily beside the child. Harriet liked walking with Kate because she walked as fast as she did. Harriet had always struggled to keep up with everyone rushing around all the time, but with Kate’s small legs she had no trouble.
They arrived in a clearing of trees and just as Kate had said, there was a lovely mixture of wildflowers growing.
“Watch the poison ivy.” Kate pulled Harriet sideways, as she quickly looked down.
“Where?”
Kate pointed at what Harriet had thought was just the same leaves and grasses they’d been walking through for a while.
“How do you know?” She was surprised that Kate, being as young as she was knew what to look for while walking through the bushes. Harriet had either never learned, or forgotten what poison ivy looked like.
“One time, when I was young, I got poison ivy rash really bad and ever since then, I made myself learn what it looks like.”
Harriet smiled, trying not to laugh at Kate’s serious tone. “When you were young?”
“Yeah. I was by the creek helping my mama with the laundry.” Kate’s smile faltered at mentioning her mother, and she quickly looked down.
Harriet instantly pulled the child closer to her, and Kate wrapped her arms around her waist. “Oh, Kate.”
“I miss her so much.”
“I know you do. I know what it feels like to miss someone.”
Kate sniffed, and Harriet realized the child had begun to cry. “You do?”
“Of course I do. I never knew who my mother or father were. That’s why I went to an orphanage school. I was a baby when it happened, but I still miss them. Even though I have no idea what they looked like, or what their names were.”
“That would be worse, because you don’t know who you even miss. Not really anyway.”
Harriet nodded. “Maybe so. I also think that when you know someone, and spend a lot of time with them and know what they look like, it can make it even harder when they’re gone. You get used to being around them, and then they’re not around anymore.”
“Let’s keep looking for flowers. I don’t like talking about sad stuff.”
Harriet smiled, reaching for Kate’s hand again. “Me either.”
Kate crouched down and picked a pretty, yellow flower with a large brown center and smiled. “These were my mama’s favorite flowers. She always had them in the middle of the table.”
“They’re beautiful. Let’s get some of these, and also some of those white daisies.”
Harriet helped Kate gather a handful of flowers, which Kate then carried all the way back to where Isabella and George were still fishing. She was impressed by Kate’s ability to find her way back through all of these trees which all looked the same to her. Harriet knew she would have to learn to navigate places like this.
“Have you caught anything yet?” Harriet asked, sitting back down against the tree.
George groaned, shaking his head. “I haven’t. Isabella, on the other hand, has caught two.”
Harriet laughed lightly, as Kate sat down right beside her, setting the flowers on the ground. She looked up to where the sun was now almost fully up in the sky. How was it almost lunchtime already? Her day seemed to be going by so fast, what with the children keeping her busy.
Harriet reached for the basket now, and unpacked the sandwiches and water canteen. “Come eat, children. You can continue fishing after we have some lunch.”
Kate eagerly reached for the sandwich Harriet handed her, and soon enough Isabella and George were eating their lunches too. As they ate, she couldn’t help noticing how peaceful it was. The children told her about their school, and what they were learning, and also asked her about what it was like at her old school. Of course, she told them about all of the wonderful people, and things she had learned there.
The children returned to their fishing, and Kate found two sticks she thought looked like people and began playing with them. Harriet thought of how much of a fun day it had been so far, and she truly looked forward to what was to come.
Chapter 16
The sweltering heat of the blacksmith’s shop overwhelmed Matthew as he worked at an order for a new family who’d just settled near Burchcreek. Normally he could tolerate the heat, but today it was worse than most days for some reason.
He had been at work all morning, had taken a short lunch break and eaten the chicken sandwich Harriet had packed for him. He couldn’t wait to go home, and be in the fresh air once again. Matthew wished he didn’t have to work at the blacksmith, but there wasn’t much else in Burchcreek for him to find for work. If only farming was enough to sustain him and Nathaniel’s family.
There was a soft knock on the open door of the blacksmith and Matthew turned from where he’d been working. As he did, he found Harriet standing by the door with Kate holding tightly to her hand.
“I hope we’re not bothering you. I just thought we would say hello.”
Matthew smiled, taking the heavy gloves off his hands. “I’m glad you did. I would love an excuse for a break. It’s unbearably hot in here.”
Harriet nodded as Kate ran toward Matthew and he opened his arms to lift her into a hug. He carried her out the door and walked alongside Harriet until they were far enough from the escaping heat, then sat down on the wooden porch.
“Uncle, guess what we did today?” Kate giggled, crawling to sit in between Harriet and him.
“What’d you do?”
Kate smiled, and told Matthew of going for a picnic with Harriet and her siblings, and how they did some fishing, and she’d picked flowers. He tried not to laugh as she told him pretty much every detail of her day.
“That sounds like it would’ve been fun. I’m glad you had a good day.” Matthew looked to where Harriet was sitting quietly, the empty basket in her hands. “I see you brought the eggs in?”
“Yes, I hope that’s all right. I told Mr. Ryson to credit it to your account, so I hope that was what you wanted me to do.”
Matthew nodded, as Kate leaned in to him. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.” He looked back in the direction of the shop, before pushing himself up to stand. “I’m just going to finish the order I started. How did you all get here?”
“We started to walk but a neighbor, Mr. Fingle gave us a lift.”
“He’s a good man. It won’t take too long, so if you two wait, you can get a ride home. If you have to go, though, that’s fine too.”
Harriet smiled up at him, as Kate reached for her hand. “We’ll take the ride, thank you. We’re waiting on Isabella and George anyway—they wanted to go play with some friends they saw by the schoolhouse.”
Matthew nodded, and turned to walk back to his work. As he continued the order, he thought of how pleased he was that the children seemed to love Harriet so much. They were his main reason for ordering a mail order bride—so they would have some sort of motherly figure in the house—and it seemed his plan had worked.
He finished the order, and raked the coals back, dampening the forge down. Matthew hung his gloves up, before locking the blacksmith shop shut behind him.
H
arriet was still sitting on the steps, but now Isabella and George waited with her. He walked over to where his horses were tied up, attached to the wagon as the children rushed over to him, Harriet limping after them. Matthew wondered if she was in pain when she walked, and what had caused her leg to become that way. Had something happened before she arrived at the orphanage, but then again, he didn’t really know her story. And perhaps she didn’t even know parts of it herself.
The wagon ride home was quiet, the way Matthew liked it. Harriet seemed to be lost in thought as she looked around at everything. He looked away from her, not wanting to notice how her sparkling, brown eyes seemed to hold so much sadness. Even when she was happy, Matthew could see the lingering sadness she tried to hide. Perhaps it was because of her disability, or a reason Matthew would never know of.
Chapter 17
It had been two weeks since Harriet had arrived in Burchcreek, and she felt she was finally settling in, with all of her things unpacked. Things had been difficult between Matthew and her undeniably, but Harriet hoped it was just because Matthew was tired from working so much.
She struggled to understand him. One minute he was laughing and joking with her, and the next he wouldn’t say anything, and would get a little distant.
Harriet handed Kate her lunch pail, before waving as the children began walking to school. “Have a good day.”
“Goodbye, Miss Wigg.”
Shutting the door, she turned to where Matthew was finishing up his breakfast. “So, what are you doing today?”
The house was quiet apart from her footsteps as she stopped in front of the wash basin.
“I don’t know,” he said coldly, as if annoyed by her question.
“I was only trying to make conversation.”
“And I was only answering you.”
Harriet felt her face heat up as she looked down at the plate she was cleaning. She didn’t understand why Matthew was acting this way this morning and now that she thought about it, he had been acting rather grumpy all of yesterday too.
She heard the sharp scrape of the chair being pushed back and flinched as Matthew set his plate next to the basin with a clatter before stomping off in the direction of the door.
Harriet cleared her throat, and turned to him. “What time will you…will you be in for lunch?”
“I’m staying in town for lunch.”
“Oh, all right.” Harriet watched as the door slammed shut and she was left alone in the silence of the small house.
Tears burned in the back of her eyes, but she willed herself to turn around and focus on cleaning up from breakfast. Everyone had a bad day here and there, and maybe Matthew was just having one of his own. She was sure he hadn’t meant any harm.
Before long the dishes were done, and Harriet found herself unsure just what to do. This was the first time she’d been alone out here. She looked to the door once again, before knowing just what to do.
Rushing to her room, she knelt by the bed and pulled her trunk out, opening it quickly to find her sketchbook lying on the top. Running her fingers along it quickly, she smiled, savoring the feeling of her familiar book in her hands once again. She hadn’t drawn anything since before leaving the school, and she couldn’t wait to let herself get lost in her art for a little while.
With her sketchbook and supplies in hand, she made her way outside under a shaded tree next to the house. Harriet sat down and leaned against the tree before opening her book to a brand-new page.
And with a deep breath, she began to draw and as she did, it was as if the whole world went silent.
Harriet looked at her finished piece, satisfied by the view she had moved from her mind to the paper. Perhaps that was her favorite thing about art—being able to create memories of the things she had seen, since no one could ever remember every detail of their lives.
Closing her book, she stood and made her way back into the house. She knew she couldn’t spend all day drawing, as much as she would like to, because there were a lot of chores to do.
First, she’d sweep the house, since Kate didn’t have time to do it this morning. She’d fallen down the ladder and startled herself so much, she wouldn’t stop crying. Harriet didn’t blame the child, she would have felt the same way. By the time Kate had calmed down, there wasn’t enough time for her to do her chores and have breakfast.
Harriet didn’t mind, though, as she gripped the broom in her hand. Sometimes she found that keeping herself busy, whether that be through art or even just cleaning was the best thing for her. Otherwise she knew she would be worrying about whether Matthew was mad at her or not. She had to admit she was a little worried.
He hadn’t seemed bothered by her limp when she first told him, but something in Harriet’s mind couldn’t stop her from wondering if that was the reason he was growing distant. Perhaps he wouldn’t marry her anymore. Had the untimely event of the minister’s illness given him enough time to change his mind?
She shook her head quickly, bringing herself back to her sweeping. Matthew wasn’t like that, and she knew it. It was silly of her to think such a thing.
Despite knowing she was overreacting about everything, she still found herself thinking about it throughout the entire day. And she wasn’t sure how to get her mind off it, other than by eventually pulling her sketchbook out again and drawing how she felt. A piece she would never show to anyone.
Chapter 18
Matthew sat down on the steps of the blacksmith and unwrapped the sandwich he had bought from the café. All day he had been regretting how he had treated Harriet. He had noticed the hurt on her face as he slammed the door this morning, but he couldn’t help it.
He didn’t know why he felt angry. Maybe it was because he knew he was falling in love with her, and he was angry at her for it.
He didn’t know what he was going to do, and at this point he was tired of fighting with himself about what the best option was. Sometimes, he was able to push his fear aside, and he’d laugh and talk with her, but before he knew it, the thoughts of pain and heartbreak seemed to take over his mind. He’d pull away. It was safer that way.
“Hello, Uncle Matthew!”
Matthew looked up quickly to find Isabella running toward him. “Oh, why hello, dear. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“Oh, I am, but it’s lunchtime now. I’m going to play jump rope with Emma and Florence.”
Matthew gave the child a small smile. “That sounds fun. You better run along—it looks like your friends are waiting for you.”
Isabella turned to face her two friends before waving goodbye and running after them back toward the school.
With a sigh Matthew took the last bite of his sandwich and stood to return to his work. At least when he was working he didn’t replay the image of Harriet standing by the wash basin looking like she was about to cry as he’d left the house.
Yes, he just had to keep himself busy.
Keeping herself busy was harder than Harriet thought. She couldn’t stop thinking about how angry Matthew had seemed when he’d left the house and she wanted him to come home, so she could ask him about it.
She grabbed a potato in her hand and began to peel it. She had just put the chicken into the oven and had also made a fresh loaf of bread earlier. The house smelled of it now and she was reminded of the warm, enticing aroma the school would get sometimes when bread was made.
The door opened, and Harriet jumped, turning to see who had come in. She smiled when she saw Isabella setting her books and slate on the table, the other children coming in behind her.
“It smells so good in here.” Kate sighed happily, grinning up at Harriet.
“Yes, I just made some bread. How was everyone’s day?”
“Good,” the children said in unison.
Harriet smiled, turning back to finish peeling the potatoes. “I’m happy to hear that. Now run along and finish your chores, won’t you?”
And as they did, Harriet hummed a song to herself while she cont
inued to get supper ready.
Harriet closed her sketchbook now, and looked up from her spot at the table. Matthew was sitting by the fire repairing the bottom of his boot and his forehead was creased as he focused on it.
Harriet couldn’t help noticing the light of the fire reflecting on his dark blond hair, and how his ice-blue eyes had a sparkle to them. She shook her head once as she heard Nathaniel’s door shut.
It was just her and Matthew now, and she knew it was the best time to bring up what had happened this morning.
“Matthew?”
“Mhmm,” he said, not looking up from his work.
Harriet shifted in her chair before continuing. “I was just wondering if we’re all right?”
“All right?”
“Well…what I mean is…I was wondering if you were angry at me?”
“I’m not,” he said quickly, still focusing on his boot.
Harriet sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “Well this morning it seemed like…”
“It was nothing.” Matthew looked up at her now, his eyes meeting hers.
She could’ve sworn the anger and pain was deep within his eyes, and the way he looked at her was a little frightening.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Harriet.” The way he said her name was sharp and final as he stood from his spot and set his finished boot next to the door. “I’m quite sure. Now good night.”
Harriet watched as he climbed up the ladder and disappeared into the overwhelming darkness of the loft.
She knew something was bothering him, but she just wished she could figure out what. Maybe it’s actually because of my limp. He obviously doesn’t want to marry me anymore. Harriet rested her elbows on the table and laid her head on top of them. Tears burned in her eyes, and as she blinked, one escaped and ran down her cheek and then another. Before long she was silently crying, afraid of gathering the attention of Matthew. She didn’t want to make him think she was weaker than he likely already saw her as.