Instant Prairie Family

“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?