Hannah’s Hanky
Clover Creek Caravan
Kirsten Osbourne
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
Also by Kirsten Osbourne
One
March, 1852
Independence, Missouri
Hannah Moseby sat in the parlor of her step-father’s home, quietly doing needlepoint. It was almost time for her step-father to be home, and she had no desire to see him. The man was absolutely insufferable.
Her father had died two years previously, and her mother had quickly remarried, though she hadn’t needed to financially. They’d had a place to live and plenty of money to spend, but her mother had been lonely without a man in her life.
Hannah pitied her mother. She herself had no desire to marry anytime soon. Sure, all of her friends were marrying, because they were of that age. One of her friends was already a widow. Hannah had no desire to follow suit though. She was an independent young woman of nineteen years old, and marrying would only put someone in her life who thought they were allowed to do anything they wanted to her. Maybe someday she would marry, but that day would not be soon.
Her mother sat beside her, a shadow of the woman she’d once been. Mr. Gatlin had made sure she knew her place within their marriage from day one, and it was a place Hannah never wanted to be. A place of doing what she was told when she was told to do it. No, thank you.
Hannah looked up when the door opened, and she saw her mother jerk out of the corner of her eye, as if she was nervous now that Mr. Gatlin was home. Why on earth did she insist on marrying the crazy man if she was afraid of him? It made no sense to Hannah whatsoever.
Mr. Gatlin walked into the parlor where they sat, and he took a chair opposite the sofa. “Oh, good. You’re both here. I want to tell you my good news while we’re all together.”
Mother looked up from her needlework and smiled at her husband, but to Hannah’s mind it wasn’t a real smile. Not like the smiles she gave Hannah when they were alone, or like the smiles she’d given to Hannah’s father. No, this was a fake smile, reserved for her new husband. “What good news?”
“I have found a husband for Hannah. She is to marry a pastor tomorrow, and the two of them will leave for Oregon Territory on Monday.” Mr. Gatlin looked proud of himself, as if he’d accomplished something Hannah was unable to do for herself. Of course, Hannah hadn’t been looking for a man.
“I’m not ready to marry,” Hannah said softly. “When I am, I will choose the man for myself.” She looked back down at her needlework after the defiant words. She knew that Mr. Gatlin would be angry, and the man’s face always turned a splotchy reddish purple when he was angry. She had no desire to see that.
“You’re nineteen years old. Of course, you’re ready to marry. You do not belong in this house now that you’re grown.”
Hannah frowned, waiting for Mother to say something—anything—that would make the man understand she didn’t want or need a husband. But Mother sat quietly with her head down. This was the home she’d grown up in. It had been her father’s home. If anyone didn’t belong, it was him.
“I refuse to marry a stranger. Make other plans, Mr. Gatlin,” Hannah finally said when it was obvious her mother would be of no help to her.
“I don’t think you understand your situation, Hannah. You either marry this stranger, or you find someone else to marry in the next twenty-four hours. You are no longer a welcome guest in my home, and you will leave.” Mr. Gatlin’s face wasn’t splotchy as it usually was when he was angered. It was downright evil-looking.
“But…this is my father’s home! It was never yours.” She couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of her mouth, though she knew they would anger him.
“It is my home now, as I’ve told you repeatedly. The minister is coming for supper tonight, and you will either marry him or find somewhere else to go.” Mr. Gatlin got to his feet, obviously very angered by her words. “I deserve thanks for finding a man who will happily take you off my hands, not your complaining. You are an ungrateful daughter, and I will be happy to see you go.” With those words he left the room, storming off to his office and slamming the door behind him.
Hannah looked over at her mother, who was still staring at her embroidery, obviously afraid to say a word. “Well, Mother? How are you going to convince him that I shouldn’t have to marry the minister he found?” She knew her mother would have to be her ally. There was no one else to take her side.
Her mother shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t intercede on your behalf. By your age, I was married and had a three-year-old daughter. It’s time for you to move out and become your own woman.”
“Mother! You can’t actually expect me to go to Oregon.” Hannah was actually becoming frightened now that her mother had agreed with her step-father. How on earth would she be able to cook over a campfire? She knew how to cook over a proper stove, of course, because her mother had spent time teaching her. The servants usually did the cooking, but her mother had told her she needed to have the skill. She could also clean house and sew, but she didn’t want to have to do those things. She liked being able to, but having to was something entirely different.
Her mother shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice. My husband has said it must happen, and so it must.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go find a dress suitable for a wedding, and I’ll talk to you about what to expect on your wedding night.” Her mother blushed slightly as she said the last bit, and Hannah sighed. There was no getting out of this.
They looked through Hannah’s dresses hanging in the chifforobe in her room, and her mother pulled out a beautiful dress she’d only worn to church one time. It was white and had beautiful sleeves that spread out over her hands. “This one, I think.”
Hannah sighed. “Shouldn’t I wear black to mourn the life that’s being taken away from me?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. This wasn’t her mother’s decision. It was that man’s.
“You need to be happy about marrying this man. He needs a good wife, and you will be that wife. You won’t bring shame on me by acting like you don’t want to marry him. Do you understand?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, Mother.” She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to be a wife or a mother. And who wanted to travel the Oregon Trail? But there was no choice unless she could find a job as a domestic in town. That was a possibility. It was unthinkable though. She would be working as a domestic for her peers, and she knew she’d never be able to take orders the way a domestic should.
Her mother sat her down on the foot of her bed and sat beside her, pulling the handkerchief she’d always carried from her sleeve. “My mother gave me this the night before my wedding. She told me that marriage can be hard on women, but it’s also a blessing. The handkerchief is to remind me that even if I cry some tears, I will always be blessed in my marriage.” She held it out to Hannah. “I want you to have it.”
Hannah hesitated for a moment before taking the object from her mother. “I will always treasure your hanky, Mother. Always.”
Her mother smiled. “Good. Now, let’s talk about what will occur on your wedding night. It’s how babies are made.”
Hannah was horrified as her mother told her exactly what would happen between her and her husband in her marriage bed. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Don’t worry. If you
don’t like it, you can just close your eyes and plan your meals for the week. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“But I’m not ready for children!”
“You have no choice now that you’re marrying. One of the most sacred things a woman can do is bear children. It was what God intended for us. I always wanted more than just you, but God didn’t provide them for me.” Her mother looked sad.
Hannah took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything I can to be a good wife.” Inside she knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth. She’d never been good about obedience. Oh, she did as she was told the majority of the time, but she did so with complaint more often than not.
Her mother put her arm around Hannah and rested her head against hers. “I know you will.” After a moment of sitting that way together, Mother got to her feet and said, “We need to get your things ready for your journey. You probably need to only take one or two dresses.”
Hannah frowned. “I believe I should take them all. If we need something to trade along the trail, my dresses will work well.” Truthfully, she just wanted to be well-dressed as she always had been. They could probably trade one or two of her dresses if there was a dire emergency.
Her mother nodded, looking at all the dresses her daughter had. She even had the dresses that she’d worn as a child hanging beside the ones she wore to parties and church. “We need to get started then. I’ll go fetch a trunk from my room.”
While her mother was gone, Hannah frowned. Would this be the last thing she and her mother did together? Packing up her clothing for an arduous journey that many didn’t survive? She straightened herself up and began taking her dresses down. She would make it. She had to.
Jedediah Scott knocked on the door of the house he’d been told to go to for supper. He’d met a man earlier that day, as he was buying things for his trip on the Oregon Trail, who had told him he shouldn’t go west alone, because there weren’t a lot of women out west. He should instead marry the man’s step-daughter. It seemed very odd to him, but he was more than willing. It wouldn’t be easy to be a pastor out west with no wife.
He was nervous as he waited for someone to come to the door. He wasn’t sure he would be interested in the woman, but he hoped he would. Of course, it seemed like providence that he’d been approached by a man in the local general store, so he would follow along. If God wanted him married to her, then he would marry her. He couldn’t remember her name, but he was sure he’d been told what it was.
After what seemed an inordinate amount of time, the man he’d met earlier came to the door. “I don’t know what happened to my wife and daughter. They usually come to the door. Excuse their tardiness, Pastor.”
“It’s no problem at all,” Jedediah said with a smile. He had been invited to eat supper with this family and meet his future bride. He was looking forward to a good meal, but nervous about meeting the future wife. He hoped she wasn’t too terribly homely, but even if she was, it was his job to do as God wanted him to do.
“Come sit in the parlor for a moment while I find my wife and daughter.” Jedediah saw that the man looked very angry about something, but he couldn’t imagine what it might be.
When Mr. Gatlin returned, it was with a woman who must be in her thirties. She was pretty in a quiet way. He was certain this must be the woman he was meant to marry. So be it.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Jedediah said, nodding politely to the woman.
Mr. Gatlin gave him a strange look. “This is my wife,” he said. “My step-daughter will be down in a moment. The two ladies were in a frenzy of packing, so I told Hannah she needed to tidy her appearance before meeting you.”
“I see.” Jedediah looked at the woman in front of him, whom he would have found perfectly acceptable as a wife. He had no idea what to say to her.
“I don’t know your name, pastor,” she said softly, and her husband gave her a glaring look.
“I’m Jedediah Scott. I just finished my schooling to become a minister.”
“Are you traveling the Mormon Trail?” the woman asked calmly.
“No, I’ll be traveling to Oregon. I don’t know yet where God wants me, but I know it’s not in the Salt Lake Valley. I’m not Mormon.” The woman looked relieved by his words. “You weren’t hoping I was a Mormon?”
“Not at all. I was hoping you weren’t. I cannot imagine Hannah being married to a man she had to share with another wife.”
Jedediah smiled. “Well, there’s no worry of that at the moment.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” She smiled slightly, looking at her husband with worry.
A young woman came down the stairs then, more of an age that he had expected for his bride. She walked slowly, but she seemed to be dragging herself, as if she didn’t want this wedding that her step-father had assured him she would be in favor of.
She stopped in front of him and inclined her head slightly, waiting for something, though he had no idea what it could be.
He understood when her step-father made the introduction. “Mr. Scott, this is my step-daughter, Hannah.”
Jedediah smiled. “I’m Jedediah,” he said softly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Hannah.” He was pleased that she wasn’t pretty. He knew that sounded strange, but with her red hair and freckles, she seemed to be only of average looks. He hadn’t wanted a beauty for a wife, and he certainly wasn’t getting one. She was pleasant enough to look at though.
“And you,” she said softly, obviously knowing it was what she must say.
“Perhaps we could have a few moments to talk,” Jedidiah said. “With the door open, of course.”
Mr. and Mrs. Gatlin nodded, smiling at him. “I think that would be just fine,” Mr. Gatlin said, following his meek little wife from the room.
Jedediah waited for Hannah to sit down on the sofa, across from where he was sitting. “I know this marriage is a surprise to you. I thought we could spend a few minutes getting to know one another better before the wedding tomorrow.” He had to know she really wanted the marriage as he did.
Hannah nodded.
“I’ve recently become a pastor. I plan to go west and be minister to one of the underserved areas of the country. I enjoy being outdoors, and I’m looking forward to the long trek to Oregon.”
Hannah blinked a couple of times. “You mean the long wagon-ride?” she asked. “We are taking a wagon?”
He nodded. “Yes, one of us will drive the wagon, while the other walks beside it. I’m not sure you’re strong enough to drive a team of oxen. Have you ever driven a wagon?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t, but I’m certain that I could if I was allowed to.”
He smiled. “I like your attitude. I’ll teach you to drive on our first day of the trek.”
“Really?” she asked. “You won’t mind if I drive? You don’t think it’s men’s work?”
“I don’t think God cares which one of us drives the wagon, and which one of us walks beside it.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why He would.”
“Then I would definitely like to learn to drive it.”
“Sounds good to me. I wasn’t looking forward to that aspect of the journey.” Jedediah smiled. “Your step-father seemed eager to set us up with one another. Have you not met anyone else suitable?” The girl wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t someone he would call pretty. She did have a nice shape and the dress she wore was pretty.
“I haven’t tried to meet a suitable man. I thought I could stay here and grow old. My step-father told me that’s not an option.” Hannah looked straight at him as she spoke, and he felt sorry for her.
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to.”
“I’ve been told I marry you or someone else. I’m not allowed to live here any longer.” There was no bitterness in her voice, but he sensed she was upset by the revelation she’d just received.
“Then marry me. I won’t demand my marital rights until you’re ready for them, and we will be a team working together to
reach Oregon and all the wonders it has.” He shrugged. “I want to be a pastor and a farmer, I think. My father was a farmer, and if I hadn’t received God’s call, I’d be helping him still. The farm would have been mine to inherit one day, but I have convinced him to leave everything to my younger brother.”
“I…You’d wait on the marriage bed? My mother told me that men enjoy the act a great deal.”
“I hope women enjoy it as well, but I know that’s not always the case. I will wait until you feel comfortable with me and ready.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I don’t think you’ll be a terrible husband after all.”
He had no idea what she’d been told about him by her step-father, but he hoped he hadn’t been painted too badly. He wanted her for his bride, but more importantly, he wanted her to want to be his bride. “I will do my best to not be terrible,” he said softly. He stood up, offering her his arm. “May I escort you into supper?” He could tell she was a lady who was used to having men fawn over her. He wasn’t going to be good at the whole fawning thing, but he was certain he could at least pretend to be a gentleman for a little while.
Her parents were waiting at the dining room table, and he pulled out a chair for her. He knew she was capable of doing it on her own, but it was a nice gesture, and one he thought she’d like. God knew once they started their journey, it would be hard to observe the niceties of society.
Mr. Gatlin waited until they were seated before asking, “Did you get to know one another?”
“I believe that will take the rest of our lives,” Jedediah said, “but we did some preliminary work on the matter.”
Hannah smiled slightly. “I will marry this man with no complaints.”
Her step father looked at her in surprise for a moment. “You will?”
Hannah's Hanky (Clover Creek Caravan Book 1) Page 1
