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“Yes, thank you, Tommy. But can I ask you a favor?” she questioned, squatting down to be at eye level with the boy. His chest puffed out a little and he nodded solemnly. “Can you call me Auntie Abby?” Even as she asked, she glanced at Mr. Hopkins and cringed inwardly, wondering if it would be all right with him. “My nieces and nephews call me Auntie Abby and I’d feel better if you called me that instead of Auntie House.”
“Sure. You’re going to be a much better auntie than our old one. She was mean.”
“Well, I’ll do the best I can.” She tried to cover her surprise as smoothly as she could.
“Now, Tommy, we need to talk nicely about Auntie Shelia. Remember what I told you?” Mr. Hopkins’s voice brought her head up quickly.
Tommy stood and thought for a minute and then his eyes lit up. “Always say please and thank you?”
“Well, yes, that, too. But I meant about talking about other people,” Mr. Hopkins hinted.
“He means that ‘if you can’t say nothin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all,’” Willy piped up.
“My mother used to say the same thing. I think that’s good advice,” Abby encouraged. “So, what are you men cooking over there? It sure smells good.”
Abby went closer to the fire and watched Mr. Hopkins struggle to flip the meat in the fry pan without getting too close to the fire. “What can I help with?” she offered. If they had been in a kitchen she would have set a table or taken over the cooking. She felt completely out of her element out on the prairie with three strangers.
“Careful of the flames, miss.” Mr. Hopkins’s voice shook her from her musing. “We don’t want your skirt to catch on fire.”
“I...” She blushed. She should know better. “Thank you.”
“Pa’s making venison steaks. He got the lady to give him some bread. Now we can eat like kings.”
Tommy’s little hand found hers and he tugged her to follow him. “Look over here. The deer and the raccoons and even the foxes and coyotes come to drink at the river at the time the sun goes to bed, so we figure we’re gonna bag us a great big one,” he boasted, his chest puffed out and his eyes bright with excitement.
“I’m sure you are a fine hunter,” she praised. “I’ll bet your brother and your daddy both taught you well.”
“More like Pa’s gonna teach us. I haven’t never hunted ’fore. But maybe Pa’ll let Willy shoot.”
“No, Willy’s not going to shoot tonight.” Mr. Hopkins’s voice was deep and smooth, causing a chill to run up her back. She had almost forgotten the man was there while she had been enjoying her enlightening chat with his son.
“But, Pa,” Tommy whined, “you said yesterday that tonight we could bag a big one. Maybe the one with the big horns.”
“Those aren’t horns, silly. Those are antlers,” Willy corrected his little brother. Then he pleaded his case. “But, Pa, you said we could use the venison.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” Mr. Hopkins’s answer left no room for argument.
“But, why, Pa? Why’d ya change your mind?” Tommy pressed the issue.
“Because I did. We’ll go hunting once we’re back at the house.” Somehow, Abby suspected he had changed his mind because of her presence.
“It’s time to eat,” Mr. Hopkins announced, ending the conversation.
He slid the last of the meat onto a tin plate. Glancing around, he groaned, handed the plate to Willy with instructions to hold it for a minute and then went around the wagon. He came back a moment later, carrying a barrel for water. He set it far enough back from the fire so that there was ample room and then indicated she could have a seat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring a chair or even a stool.”
Once she was seated, he handed her a tin plate, slipped a piece of meat on it and set two dinner rolls on top. The boys were settled with similar plates where they sat on the dirt with their legs crossed in front of them.
“Father God,” Mr. Hopkins began to pray, “we thank You for Your provisions and Your traveling mercies on this trip. I ask You to bless the food to our bodies and keep us safe on our journey home. Thank You for keeping Miss Stewart safe and for giving her the willingness to work for this simple farmer and his sons. Please lead us to make wise decisions and trust You every day. Amen.”
The word home stuck in Abby’s head as she ate. How she wished that she was going home. She had until the harvest to convince Mr. Hopkins that she was a hard worker and should be kept on. Only God held the solutions to her problems in His hand, and He hadn’t let her know what they were yet.
* * *
“Hello, Herbert,” Will called to the older of the Scotts brothers as he stepped down from the wagon. Mr. and Mrs. Scotts had attended church alone for so long that Will had forgotten the couple’s two grown sons still lived with their parents. Rumor had it, the Scotts brothers thought that riding into Twin Oaks and drinking on Saturday nights was a much better way of spending their free time than worshiping in the Lord’s house on Sunday mornings.
“Howdy, Will.” Herbert approached from the shadows of the barn where he had been working. His eyes strayed too long on Miss Stewart before he looked at Will. “And hello, pretty lady. Don’t think I’ve seen the likes of you around here. You—”
“Are your ma and pa around?” Will asked, interrupting Herbert and standing between the man and the wagon. Will was starting to reconsider the idea of leaving a young lady, any young lady, on a farm with the likes of Herbert or Elvin. Why hadn’t he thought of them before? A desire to mount back up and head off to his own claim without waiting for an answer almost won over his sense of courtesy, but now that he had come, they needed to at least greet the elder Scotts.
“Naw. Pa’s out in the fields, and Ma went off to see to Jankowski’s woman. Her time was close and her husband didn’t want to see to all their kids and the birthing. Don’t see why the woman needs so much help. What with all the little squallers she’s already borne, a body’d think she could handle it herself by now.”
Will cringed at the coarse way Herbert spoke about such a delicate subject. A glance at Miss Stewart confirmed her surprise. Now he wished he hadn’t even attempted to bring her here. She needed a safe, comfortable place to stay—like his mother’s home. Miss Stewart had implied that her brother-in-law had been less than respecting to her person, and now Herbert didn’t bother to conceal the way he looked too long at Miss Stewart’s womanly attributes.
Will had a sudden desire to make her feel safe. Where had that thought come from? Yes, his mother had taught him to be a gentleman, but the powerful need to protect Miss Stewart from Herbert took him by surprise. If the man kept looking at Will’s new housekeeper like that, he might just have to teach the younger man a lesson or two about respect.
There was no way he would leave Miss Stewart here. They would have to make some other arrangement. Maybe he could use the barn or fix up the soddy to sleep in so that she could stay in the house. Climbing back into the wagon, he called over his shoulder, “Then I’d best be on my way. You let your ma and pa know we came to visit.”
“But, Will, you’re not being very neighborly. You didn’t even tell me your sister’s name,” Herbert called after him, coming to stand on Miss Stewart’s side of the wagon.
“She’s Auntie Abby and she’s gonna be our new house...house... What is it again?” Tommy whispered to his brother even as Will clicked his tongue to the horses.
“Housekeeper!” Willy answered his brother. “You don’t remember nuttin’.”
“Hey, I just can’t—”
Will turned the wagon around, knowing he was being less than friendly with his nearest neighbor, but he couldn’t stay any longer without losing control of his temper. Miss Stewart was a lovely, respectable woman who deserved to be treated like a lady. Soon enough she’d be headed back East, where she belonged. In the meantime, as her employer, Will knew it was up to him to protect her and make sure she was safe.
“I’m real sorry, Miss Stewart. I didn’t know Mrs. Scotts had gone to stay with the Jankowskis.” He didn’t dare look at the small woman next to him. It was just about two in the afternoon and they still had another hour to go before they made it to the house. What was he going to do for her?
“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known. I’m sure we can come up with something. Maybe I can sleep out in the barn if there’s no place for me in the house.”
“It’s not a question of a place for you,” Will tried to explain. After all, he had thought ahead and planned for a housekeeper. “You can sleep on the first floor in the parlor. It’s been converted into a bedroom.” He didn’t elaborate that the conversion had been for Auntie Sheila and had never been rearranged once she left.
“It’s just that it might not be... It might ruin your reputation to be living on the homestead with two men and two boys and no woman to chaperone.” Even as he forced the words out, he felt his face flame. “Not that there would be any reason. We’ll... Jake and I will behave as gentlemen at all times and you can sleep in the parlor or up in the upstairs if you want. We’ll sleep out in the barn,” he offered.
“I don’t want to put you out of your own home—but we’ll do whatever you say is best.” She didn’t look at him but kept her face toward the waving grasses stretching out in all directions.
Relieved that he could at least offer some protection from gossips, Will stole a glance at Miss Ab...Miss Stewart, he reminded himself. He supposed it was all right for the boys to refer to her as Auntie Abby, but he would still be reserved and careful around her. He didn’t want to be any more familiar with a pretty, young woman than he needed to be. That’s what had gotten him into trouble when he was barely able to shave.
Chapter Three
Abby jounced on the wagon seat and took in the view as they drove up to the farmhouse. The house walls were of stout weather-beaten, whitewashed planks settled on a foundation of stones and boulders. Mr. Hopkins hadn’t stopped at the front entrance for obvious reasons since the weeds grew knee-high right up to the house. Instead, he pulled around into the barnyard where the dirt was hard and flat, giving testimony to constant traffic. The barn was made of the same planks as the house minus the paint.
Something akin to excitement ran through Abby when she saw a small back porch running the length of the house with a bench swing in one corner. She could imagine swinging out there on cool evenings after her housework was done, just as her mother used to when Abby was small. On closer inspection, Abby’s excitement dimmed. She doubted anyone had swung on the swing for a few seasons given the amount of dust and spiderwebs that clung to it. What must the house
look like?
One more jerk and the wagon came to a halt. “We’re here, miss. I can’t promise that it’s very welcoming but...”
Abby looked at Mr. Hopkins and found his expression endearing. He’d mentioned on the trip that he had built the house with his brother and that they had taken the better part of a year to get the main parts done. He said something about having to care for Caroline and the boys, and how that had slowed him down. Now he looked embarrassed as if it wouldn’t measure up to what she expected. Mr. Hopkins’s humble clapboard home represented an opportunity to prove she was an able housekeeper and educator. While it might never truly become her home, she could make it a comfortable one for his family.
“Is everything all right?” His voice called her back to the present. Glancing down from her perch still atop the wagon bench, she found him looking up at her expectantly. His hands were extended to help her climb down from the wagon and she mentally chastised herself for not paying more attention.
“Oh. Yes, Mr. Hopkins. I was just admiring your home.” Just a hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but the pride that shone in his eyes reminded her of Tommy when she praised him.
Mr. Hopkins’s hands were firm and strong as he lifted her at the waist and set her on her feet. “Thank you, miss.” He stood a little straighter and surveyed it himself. “She looks a little rough now.” He glanced at the house and shook his head. “I guess it must not look like much, but it’s dry and warm when it’s cold and wet outside. We make do.”
“I’m sure it’s just fine,” Abby reassured him, seeing a glimpse of an insecure little boy behind the tough exterior of her employer.
“If you want to just go on inside,” he said, turning toward the back of the wagon, “I’ll get your trunk and other boxes in short order.”
“Come on. I wanna show you my room.” Tommy took her hand and started to pull her up the stairs.
“Let’s go take a look,” she agreed, and let herself be led into the kitchen. She blinked as she stood at the threshold and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Something smelled as if it had died and was rotting in the middle of the room. It was enough to make her hold her breath. When she finally released the pent-up air, she tried to keep from thinking about what could be making such a stench. As her eyes adjusted, she could take in more of her surroundings. She held back a groan. What could she expect from four men who had been on their own for a number of years?
The floor was the same rough planks as the walls but caked with dirt from the barnyard. The large table stood in the very middle of the large kitchen, its entire surface dirty with lumps of something stuck to its once-smooth surface. Three different-size pots took up part of the wooden counter; each stank of rot and had something decaying inside it. A filthy stove sat in the corner, its pipe connected to a hole just above the grimy window.
It was nice to see that at least there were two glass windows in the kitchen even if they didn’t have screens. She would have enough natural light on most days (once she washed the windows) so that she wouldn’t even need a lantern or candles. The hand pump connected to the sink looked modern and meant she wouldn’t have to lug water from somewhere outside every morning to start the day. But in spite of those conveniences, she clearly had her work cut out for her.
“C’mon.” Tommy had run ahead but was now back, tugging on her hand again.
“Ahem.” A deep voice from behind startled her, chasing her away from the door.
Mr. Hopkins stood with her hope chest on his shoulder as if it were a bag of feathers. “I’ll take this into the room on the first floor and then you can decide where you want to stay. I...” His nose curled as he stepped farther into the room. “Jake!” he exclaimed, frowning as he took in the pots on the counter. “I asked that boy...” he muttered under his breath.
“I’ll get the kitchen straightened out in no time, sir.”
“It’s not right for you to have to start working today. I’m sure you just want to rest after your long trip.” His face looked bright red and his eyes didn’t meet hers. Abby found his embarrassment charming.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just need to freshen up a bit and then I could pull something together for supper.”
“Are you going to cook like they do at the hotel?” Tommy piped up, still tugging her hand. Willy hovered at the doorway, trying to act nonchalant.
“Well, I don’t know if it’ll be just like the restaurant, but it will be enough to fill you up. My nieces and nephews like my chicken and dumplings. We could also make fried venison steaks when you go get a big one with your pa. But today I think I’m just going to have to see what’s in the pantry and make something simple. Tomorrow we can make a menu. You can show me how many letters and words you already know,” she offered.
“What’s a menu?” Tommy turned to his bigger brother, but Willy just shrugged.
“A menu is the list of the foods for you to choose from. At the restaurant, the lady gave one to you to look at so you could decide what you wanted to order. Here at the house we will make a list for the week ahead of what we are going to make each day so you can get really hungry the days that we make your favorites. It helps to know what we want to cook so that we can make sure all the ingredients are available.”
“What’s ’gredients?”
“Ingredients are the things we need to make that food, like flour and butter and eggs…. Now, how about if we go help your pa put my stuff in my room and then we can chat?” Abby offered, following the man who had disappeared into the second doorway on the hallway from the kitchen. Once out of the kitchen, she discovered it wasn’t a hallway but a large living room with a comfortable-looking davenport and a rocking chair facing the center of the room. The center wall was a massive fireplace with an ample hearth. The door Mr. Hopkins entered shared the wall with the fireplace. That room would be nice and warm come the winter—if she was still working for the family then.
The bedroom itself was sparsely furnished, with a large bed sagging in the center. The only other piece of furniture was a forlorn nightstand. Everything had a layer of dust, and the spiderwebs in the corner looked like spun cotton.
“Where would you like your chest?” Mr. Hopkins stood in the middle of the room, looking surprised to see the condition of the place. “Um, I hadn’t been in here....”
“I think it would be best if you left it out in the living room for a few minutes until I can tidy up just a bit,” Abby suggested tactfully.
“Are you gonna sleep on the couch?” Tommy asked.
“No.” Abby shook her head and smiled at the small boy, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be sleeping in here, but I think it would be better to air out the room and sweep up a little. Don’t you agree?”
Tommy nodded energetically. Willy hung back at the door, not venturing into the room but watching everyone else.
“Could you do me a favor?” Abby asked Willy, knowing Tommy would probably follow. “Would you go find me the broom and dustpan?” As soon as Tommy and Willy had raced off, she tried the window, but it wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll go get your other things, miss. Unless there’s something else that you would like me to do first?” Mr. Hopkins offered. His hands resting on opposite sides of the door frame reminded her just how big Mr. Hopkins was. He looked capable of building a house on his own.
“Could you give me a hand with the window?”
Mr. Hopkins crossed the room in five large steps. The room shrank with each step. He towered above her as he stood next to her. He pushed a lock on the top of the lower frame and then grunted as he tried to free the window. It took two tries, but suddenly there was a rush of fresh air sending dust dancing across the room.
“Thank you, sir,” she choked out, just before sneezing from the dust.
“No problem. I’ll go open the kitchen windows, too. Might as well get it aired out in here. I’ll have to put screens on as soon as I can so you’ll be comfortable in here in the summer, assuming...” Before he found the words to finish his thoughts, he stalked out of the room.
The boys raced in, fighting about who was going to give her the broom. “Thank you, gentlemen.” She acknowledged both of them, causing Tommy to have a fit of giggles. “Now I need you to go out in the living room until I’m ready for you in here. I’m going to get some of this dust out.” She tied a handkerchief around her face, covering her nose and mouth, making both boys giggle. Too much in a hurry to change, she told herself that the clothes that she had traveled in needed a good washing anyway, so a little more dust wouldn’t hurt.
In a few minutes, she swept up the dirt and dumped it unceremoniously out the open window. She took the bedspread and sheets off the bed, even though there wouldn’t be time to get them washed and dried before nightfall. She opted to get as much of the musty smell out as possible. She hung the bedding on the lines extending from the side of the house to a stand twenty paces away. Beating the dusty linens helped to relieve the tensions that had built up over the last few weeks and gave the boys something vigorous to do.
Rinsing off at the outside well, she returned to the kitchen, happy to find that the three pots had vanished. A good breeze flowed through from the two windows and the doorway to the living area. Someone left a fire started in the stove, but she opened the door and checked it anyway. She put water to boil in the only big cauldron she could find in the pantry. She couldn’t start dinner until she got some of the grime out of the kitchen. Broom in hand, she made quick work of sweeping the bulk of the dirt off the floor.
Two hours later, she had the table and counter spotless, the supplies Mr. Hopkins brought from town put away in the pantry and dinner finished. There hadn’t been time to make bread, but she was glad to see there were all the ingredients she would need tomorrow. For tonight, a simple fare of biscuits and fried meat would be all she could offer. Mr. Hopkins had promised a visit to the smokehouse tomorrow so she could take inventory.
The windows let more than just the breeze in. A bee and a few flies all got a good whack from her wooden spoon for their efforts to visit her kitchen, but the boys’ laughter and shouting rode inside on the breeze, too. The latter far outweighed the first. She smiled, listening to them play with their hoops as they ran around the barnyard with sticks in their hands, competing to see who could last the longest before the hoops would wobble and fall.
Finally, the spotless table set with clean dishes, she stretched her arms to the sides and then over her head. She had always worked hard at Emma’s house, but today, she did more in a few hours than what she usually would do in a whole day. Traveling left her stiff and out of sorts, and last night’s sleep had been fitful. Even with the reassurance that Mr. Hopkins and the boys were sleeping in the tent a few paces from the wagon, Abby had startled awake to every small sound. As tired as she felt now, though, she was sure she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.
“Gentlemen, it’s time for supper,” she called, descending the back stairs.
Tommy dropped his stick in the dust and let the hoop roll off as he sprinted to her. “Can we come in now? Pa said we needed to let you sleep, but it sure smells like you were cooking. Can you come see my room now?”
She grimaced at the last question. What would she find upstairs if the downstairs was so dirty? She wasn’t sure she could take any more surprises like that tonight. At least the mess gave her hope that if she could do her best job, she would show Mr. Hopkins how much he needed her. It wasn’t just a question of taking care of the mess. From the state of the pots and pans, she’d gotten the idea that Mr. Hopkins wasn’t a very good cook, either. He was strong and tall but lean. The boys were on the skinny side, too, but with a few weeks of her meals, she was sure that she could have them filling out very nicely.
“Do you want to let your pa and cousin know it’s time to eat?”
Without letting go of her hand, Tommy stopped, looked over his shoulder and let out a holler that almost left her deaf. “Auntie House says it’s time to eat.”
Turning again toward the house, he started to tug again, but she stood her ground. “Is there something else that you need to do before you head on in?” she prompted.
“Nope. I told ’em,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly.
“I was thinking about your toys. Do you always leave them in the middle of the yard?”
“Huh?” Tommy glanced around, confused, until he spotted Willy carrying in the other hoop and stick. “Oh. Wait here for me, Abby,” he called over his shoulder as he let go of her hand and charged off to collect his forgotten toys.
