Harriet's Hope
Morgan Dawson
For my grandparents, who have always supported my writing and always read my books. Your support means the world to me.
Also a huge thanks to Caroline for allowing me to write in this wonderful series! Thank you for giving me this opportunity.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Harriet Wigg had spent her whole life wondering what happened to her parents, and whether they’d just simply chosen to get rid of her. No one knew who her parents even were, she’d just been left sitting on the steps of the Wigg School and Foundling Home in a basket with a piece of paper that read;
“Look after her.”
Of course, Madam Wigg had taken her in and raised her alongside the other orphan children in the school. Harriet often wondered if her parents had known about the disability in her right leg, since it was noticeable by sight, and her ankle seemed to be twisted sideways.
Her whole life she’d believed her parents didn’t want her because of it, but she didn’t blame them for it. Although she wished she didn’t have to limp everywhere she went, but luckily, the teachers at the school had been very accepting of her, and so had the other girls.
Sometimes, her friends and even Madam Wigg would tell Harriet that there was probably another reason for her being left on the steps of the school when she was only a baby.
Harriet would never forget the time she and Madam Wigg talked about it when she was ten.
“I don’t want you to spend your whole life believing that you’re any less valuable than anyone else just because of your leg, my dear Harriet. You’re just the same as everyone else. Your heart is what makes you who you are, not anything on the outside.”
Harriet had sniffed, wiping at the tears under her eyes. “But, Madam Wigg, if my own parents didn’t want me because of my leg, who else would ever want me?”
“Oh, Harriet, you don’t know the reason you were left here—no one does. Maybe your parents couldn’t afford to care for you properly and they wanted you to have more opportunities in life. Or something happened to them, and an aunt or grandparent left you here because they knew they couldn’t care for you.” Madam Wigg had smiled then, and reached for Harriet’s hands. “And as for no one wanting you, Harriet, that is just untrue. You’re wanted by all the people in this school, and someday when you go out into the world on your own, you’ll find many other people who will want you in their lives too.”
Harriet had laughed lightly, then shook her head. “Oh, Madam Wigg, I’m not ever going to leave the school—I’ll be a teacher here someday and I’ll get to spend my whole life with everyone here.”
Madam Wigg had just nodded and said, “That’s a possibility, but who really knows where life is going to lead us? Now run along, I do believe you have homework to do.”
“Yes, Madam Wigg.” And with that, Harriet had limped back to her room she shared with another girl named Fae. She was certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life in the wonderful school she was being raised in.
“Miss Harriet?” Susan’s voice pulled Harriet from her thoughts as she looked up at a student standing in front of her. “I finished my art project.”
Harriet smiled, taking the paper from the girl. It was a charcoal drawing of one of Susan’s friends. “It’s lovely, Susan. You can draw whatever you like until the end of class.”
“Yes, Miss Harriet.” Susan skipped back to the table where many other children were still drawing their friends.
Harriet loved teaching art, because art itself was what Harriet felt she was good at. It was the one thing that inspired her, and allowed her to get lost so easily. She had learned so much about herself because of drawing and painting. And she was grateful she could teach art to the children who were like her and found comfort in it.
She wanted to teach them it so that they could find themselves, and she was determined to help each child that came her way throughout her career as a teacher at the Wigg School.
* * *
Harriet climbed the stairs slowly, her right ankle aching with each step. Her disability didn’t normally cause her any pain in the warmer months, but sometimes when it was a cold, rainy day it would ache, or often during the winter. And sometimes after sitting too long it would become stiff and hurt her to walk.
As she made her way to her room, she promised herself to get up and walk more tomorrow so this wouldn’t happen.
The door clicked open as she stepped inside the room she shared with one of her best friends, Fae.
Fae had also been raised at the school with her, and they’d been together through everything.
“What are you working on?” Harriet smiled, setting her well-worn sketchbook onto her bed.
“I’m just mending Anna’s dress—she tore it the other day.” Fae looked up from the dress in her arms, but continued to sew. “How was your day?”
“Wonderful. I got the children to start drawing pictures of their classmates, and they seem to be having so much fun with it.” Harriet sat down on her bed, and reached for her sketchbook.
Quietly, she looked through each page. She loved looking through old drawings she’d done, because with each one there was a story, feeling or message. Even when she wasn’t actually drawing or painting, just looking through her sketchbook was so enjoyable and made her happy.
One of her favorite drawings was the one she did of her three closest friends, Fae, Glory, and Imogene. Of course, Harriet was friends with all of the other girls who were raised alongside her, but she shared a connecting room with these three. The room next door had a doorway in between so they could pop in and out of each other’s rooms.
This resulted in many evenings spent together. This particular picture was of her three friends sitting together laughing and talking, and Harriet had loved how it had turned out. It perfectly represented the many laughs they’d shared.
Harriet smiled as she turned the page to the next drawing, one of three of the little girls playing with some dolls together.
She could spend all of her time looking through her old drawings, and the countless sketchbooks in the trunk under her bed. Her art told a story—one only she could tell.
Chapter 1
“Oh, Fae, can you really believe it?” Harriet groaned, falling back on to her bed. Today had started out as a normal day for Harriet, but things had soon changed when Madam Wigg called her, Fae, Glory, and Imogene in to speak with her. At first, she thought they were going to discuss how the children were doing in their classes, but she had soon realized Madam Wigg’s true plans.
Plans for Harriet, and all of the women she had grown up with, to leave the school and spread out to teach in some sort of way that would incorporate Madam Wigg’s beliefs. The only problem was that in order for them to have enough money for traveling, they would have t
o respond to a mail order bride ad so that the man would pay for them to get there.
The teaching part wasn’t the issue for Harriet, for she was quite excited about the idea. The mail order bride part was where she was upset. The idea of marrying some man she’d never met just so he would pay for her to go out there, terrified her.
Harriet looked back to her friend now, her heart pounding in her chest.
Fae only smiled as she pulled her long, red hair out of its pin. “You’re making things out to be worse than they really are. This is a wonderful opportunity for us to be able to start our own lives, and to teach other people what we’ve learned here.”
“I know that, but I don’t understand why you’re excited to leave. Aren’t you going to miss it here? What about the children? Won’t you miss them? Madam Wigg? Glory? Imogene?” Harriet paused as she blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. “Me?”
“Oh, Harriet,” Fae said softly as she moved to sit down on the edge of Harriet’s bed. “Of course I’ll miss all of those things, and people. I’ll miss everyone, but sometimes we need to go separate ways to find who we are. Change does powerful things to people.”
“I’m scared to change. I like the way things are.”
“Or do you like being able to stay in the school and not have people see your limp?” Fae’s tone turned serious, and Harriet looked up at her friend quickly, hurt by what she’d said.
But it’s true. Her own voice rung in her head, as her shoulders began to shake and tears ran down her face. Fae was right, as always.
“Oh, Fae. You’re right. I’m scared that no one outside the school will accept me,” Harriet said in between sobs, as Fae leaned over to pull her in to a hug.
“I know you’re afraid, and you have every right to be. We all do. Just remember, that if all the people in the school can accept you, who’s to say no one else will? I think in your mind, you believe your disability is all people can see and the sooner you realize that you are more than just a girl with a limp, the better.”
Harriet sniffed as Fae pulled away and gave her a sad smile.
“Fae, you’re such a kind friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Fae stood and brushed out her hair in front of the mirror before smiling. “We will begin looking through the ads as soon as we can. Oh, I can hardly wait.”
Harriet tried to feel excited about the idea as well, and although she felt better and knew that she was going to go through with Madam Wigg’s plans, she still wasn’t excited.
* * *
That night, Harriet dreamed of herself being taken away from the school as she screamed and tried to get home. She watched as all of her friends waved from the door of the school, and the carriage rode farther and farther away until eventually the school was out of sight.
Harriet had woken up out of breath and drenched in sweat, as she’d rolled over to be sure Fae was still in the bed next to hers.
Now she remained wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. She just couldn’t push the thought of having to leave the school…her home, out of her mind and the idea of it made her stomach churn.
Eventually, the sun began to shine through the window and Harriet allowed herself to get ready for the day. She brushed out her long hair and set her brush back down on the table quietly. Harriet knew she was up a lot earlier than usual, and Fae probably wouldn’t be awake for a while. She located her sketchbook lying on the ground next to her bed before sitting at the table next to the window.
With her pencil in hand, she sat quietly while she figured out what to draw. Eventually, she began to move her pencil across the paper, the idea effortlessly pouring out of her. When she was creating art, time seemed to stand still and there was nothing in the world Harriet loved more, than the feeling of being able to create.
When she was finished, she smiled as she compared her drawing to the view from the window. She had drawn this window many times, but each time there was something different within it. And this time, there wasn’t anyone wandering the streets below. It was just the buildings, with the street seeming so empty.
But now, a few people were beginning to step out into the new day, and Harriet smiled happily before shutting her sketchbook.
She now knew she had a limited time at the school and she didn’t want to waste any of it. Today was Saturday, and she planned to spend as much time with the children as she could.
Chapter 2
Matthew Anderson was a man who was not afraid of most things. He never was the type of person to be afraid of the dark, or storms, or any of the creatures out in the woods many people were frightened of. He wasn’t afraid of what came after death, nor scared of not having enough money to provide for his family.
No, Matthew certainly wasn’t afraid of anything. Other than one thing, which he swore to himself he would never tell a soul. That’s why the decision he was about to make terrified him more than he could understand.
He hadn’t told anyone what he was doing, and he wouldn’t until he had someone on their way out to Burchcreek to help out around the house.
Matthew lived with his brother, and his two nieces and nephew who had just recently lost their mother. He hated to see his older brother in so much pain after losing his wife, while he also tried to care for the children and continue to provide for them. Matthew had moved in to try to him with the children.
That’s the only reason Matthew was writing an ad to the paper for a mail order bride. If it wasn’t for his brother struggling so much, he wouldn’t be doing this. He had no idea what to say about himself, and he felt like constantly ripping the paper in half and starting again—which he did do more than a couple of times.
Finally, though, he had written the ad in a way he hoped presented himself in the best way possible. The next morning, he knew he had to take it in to submit to the papers, even though he was so afraid he could feel his heart pounding deep within his chest.
“Uncle Matthew?”
He was pulled from his thoughts as he quickly covered the paper with his hands. “Yes, Kate?”
The small child smiled, her brown hair hanging in knots under her nightcap. “Why are you awake so late?”
“I’m just doing some work, dear. Why are you up so late?”
“I’m going to the outhouse. You shouldn’t be working in the middle of the night. When I get back inside I better find you back in bed.” Kate marched out the door, shutting it behind her softly.
Matthew chuckled to himself as he stood and folded the piece of paper in half before heading to his room. Kate was right. He did need some sleep, and there was no sense worrying about the mail order bride ad when he hadn’t even sent it yet. He set the piece of paper on the table by his bed before climbing back under the covers.
He remained awake long enough until he heard the door open, and Kate’s feet climbing up the ladder to the loft before he allowed himself to fall into a restless sleep.
* * *
The smell of burning bacon woke him from his sleep. Matthew groaned, covering his face with his pillow.
His brother was the worst at cooking, and every meal they ate was charred. Matthew missed having Isabella around, because she at least made good food.
Matthew had lived in a small cabin on his brother’s property and he had come for his meals at Nathaniel’s family home all the time. And now, he lived here.
He wanted to offer to do the cooking, but he wasn’t so sure he could do much better. Plus, he liked having something to complain to his brother about.
Matthew quickly dressed before opening his bedroom door where he found Nathaniel setting black slices of bacon onto the plates, and some eggs which Matthew knew would have eggshells in.
Isabella, George, and Kate sat at the table, pretending to smile up at their father as he dished out their burned breakfast.
“About time you got up.” Nathaniel smiled, setting the pan back down on the stove. Matthew would never get used to seeing his b
ig brother wearing a white apron around his waist, and he was sure to make fun of him for it as much as he could.
“He was up very late last night, though, Pa. He was working, until I told him to get to bed.” Kate smiled, turning in her chair to see him.
“Is that so? What were you working on, brother?”
Matthew sighed, sitting down at the table. “It was nothing important. Just some money figuring.”
Matthew could tell his brother didn’t believe him, but he didn’t mention it. They just ate their breakfast as quietly as one can with completely black bacon. Matthew had a bunch of broken pieces of eggshell piled up on the side of the plate by the time he was finished too.
Maybe, Matthew thought, the mail order bride will be good at cooking.
And suddenly, he wasn’t afraid anymore. Well…not as afraid.
Chapter 3
Harriet had spent all morning looking through the mail order bride ads with Fae, and had been very unsure of who she wanted to write to. After all, this was the biggest decision of her life. She was agreeing to marry some random man she had never met before, and for all she knew, he could be crazy.
Finally, after spending all morning with Fae trying to help her, she settled on writing to a man named Mr. Anderson from a small town out west.
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