by Mills, DiAnn
“You must be quite fond of books,” she said, groping for something to say.
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of having the rest of them sent here in a few weeks.”
“Of course not. The winter nights approaching us will provide you with plenty of reading time.”
“Will you read these books to us, Sir?” Caleb asked, struggling with the heavy bag.
Mr. Hunters’s shoulders relaxed. “I’d be pleased to, along with the Bible.”
Lena swallowed. Mr. Hunters might not be what she envisioned, but this part of him was a relief.
They reached the wagon and, after much difficulty, loaded the trunk and bag. Caleb and Simon climbed into the back, curiously eyeing the outside of Mr. Hunters’s baggage.
“Do not touch those,” she reminded them.
Lena turned for the man to assist her onto the wagon seat, which he did with much effort. Huffing and puffing, he attempted a smile.
“Would you like to drive us west toward my home?” she asked, smoothing her dress.
His shoulders sank. “Ma’am, I’ve never driven a wagon before in my life.”
two
Gabriel wanted to step down from that wagon and make a running leap to board the Union Pacific back to Philadelphia as fast as his round and aching legs would allow.
His entrance into Archerville had been met with one disaster after another—and this last occurrence would surely conclude his demise. The boys, his future sons, had been beset with amusement when the trunk landed him on his backside, and his future wife had just learned he knew nothing about driving a wagon.
Defeated and exhausted from the laborious trip to middle-of-nowhere Nebraska, Gabriel realized he’d made a terrible mistake. And in three days’ time, he might make an even worse one.
Oh, God, why did I think You willed this for my life? Am I once again to be made a laughingstock of a community?
“Don’t concern yourself, Mr. Hunters. I’ve driven this wagon more times than I care to remember,” Mrs. Walker said, but he couldn’t tell if she sounded annoyed or simply tired—most likely the former.
He didn’t blame her; he wasn’t pleased with his lack of dexterity either. In less than ten minutes, he’d discovered that not all knowledge came from books. Apprehension rippled through him at the likelihood of the next twenty-four hours revealing a generous amount of his ignorance.
“Mr. Hunters,” Caleb began. “What did you do while in Philadelphia?”
Obviously he didn’t drive a team of horses.
“Bookkeeping,” Gabriel replied. When he saw the rather confused look spreading across the boy’s face, he added, “It’s arithmetic. I help business establishments add and subtract what they earn and what they spend.”
Caleb nodded. “Like when Mama sells a cow, then pays our bill at the general store?”
“Correct, and what’s left is profit.”
“We don’t have any of that,” Caleb said with a much-too-serious look for a boy. “We simply pay what’s owed and start all over again.”
Gabriel saw a muscle twitch in Mrs. Walker’s face. Farming a 160-acre homestead and raising two boys must be a real hardship. No wonder she needed a husband. At least she knew how to survive. His former confidence in farming had ended at the railroad station.
“But the Lord provides,” Lena said quietly. “We have a house, clothes to wear, and food. Some folks aren’t as fortunate.”
“I pray I’ll be able to make you more prosperous,” Gabriel said firmly.
“Thank you, Mr. Hunters. I—”
“Are we going to be rich?” Simon asked, tugging on Gabriel’s coattail. “I know zactly what I want.”
“Simon,” Mrs. Walker scolded. “Mind your manners. Now, you boys leave Mr. Hunters alone for awhile. He and I have things to discuss.”
The boys scooted back to the end of the wagon and dangled their feet over the edge. They minded well. A good sign. He’d seen his share of misbehaved boys and the damage they could do.
Gabriel glanced at the sights of Archerville behind him as they pulled away from the small town. One dusty street was lined with a few necessary businesses: a general store and post office; a jail; a barber and undertaker; a saloon; and across from the liquid spirits and worldly entertainment, a freshly painted church—for a dose of the Holy Ghost.
The odor staggered him. Horses, pigs, and cows wandered through the town and contributed their droppings wherever they saw fit. Certainly nothing resembling the cleanliness or the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia. A burst of wind whipped around a barrel outside the general store, sending it teetering to the ground. A shiver wound its way around Gabriel’s spine. As much as he’d looked forward to leaving the city, this new environment settled upon him like questionable figures in a ledger.
He’d been lonely before with people everywhere, but now he felt alone and afraid. Yes, fear did have a strangling hold on him, fear of the unknown and fear of the future. God did lead him here to Archerville, of that he had no doubt, but those thoughts did little to calm him.
Gabriel studied Mrs. Walker’s horses. They appeared fine to him—shiny coats and not at all swaybacked. He’d expected mules. His gaze trailed up the reins to her hands, callused and deeply tanned. He’d never seen a woman’s hands that weren’t soft and smooth. Another oddity. Well, he didn’t intend for his wife to work herself into an early grave. Wetting his lips, he stole a quick glance at her face. With all the commotion at the train station, he hadn’t afforded a good look at his future wife.
Oh no. Shocked and disgruntled, he instantly changed his focus to the surrounding countryside, flat, bleak, and uninviting.
Lena Walker was comely, and he couldn’t trust an attractive woman. She’d betray him just like his mother and the other girls. For weeks since he’d received Mrs. Walker’s agreement to the marriage, he’d prayed for a plain woman, one who matched him in appearance. A man could build a life with a woman who’d never stray. He’d never have to worry about her participating in the activities his mother had.
Suddenly, Gabriel fought the urge to shake his fist at God. The One in whom he’d put his faith and trust had tricked him. He’d journeyed all this way only to find a woman who would hurt him more deeply than his mother. Although his mother had died and he’d forgiven her, he was smart enough not to fall into the same well again.
What should he do now? Lord, cruel jokes are what the bullies did when I attended school. I can’t believe this is from You. Even if she might be different, she’d never love the likes of me. Have You forgotten what I look like?
“Mr. Hunters, forgive me. I had so many things to ask you, but now I can’t seem to figure out where to begin.” Mrs. Walker offered him a slight smile, then quickly stared ahead at the road.
Perhaps you’re disappointed; can’t blame you. “We’re strangers, Mrs. Walker. We have much to learn about each other.”
“Yes, that’s true. Could we begin by calling each other by our given names and talking about ourselves?”
He nodded, although not so sure he wanted Lena Walker to know more about him. “Certainly, if it suits you.”
She took a deep breath and sat straighter as though summoning courage for an arduous task. “My name is Lena Jane Walker. My family came to Nebraska from Ohio when I was a girl. I’ll be thirty-one years old come February.” She paused and urged the team of horses to pick up their pace. “I’ve been a widow for three years. I’m strong and healthy, and so are my sons. The Lord guides my life, but I do tend to make mistakes more often than not.”
“We all do,” he said solemnly, regretting the moment he’d considered her advertisement for a husband. Why hadn’t she told him what she looked like?
“My biggest fault is my temper,” she continued, as though bound by some unexplainable force to confess her worst. “I’ll do my best to curb it, but I thought you should know.”
When she looked his way again, the intensity of her green eyes cap
tured his heart. Their gazes locked, and he could not pull away. Truth and sincerity with a mixture of merriment radiated back at him. The combination caused Gabriel to rethink his former conclusions about comely women. Help, I’m so confused.
Could it be Lena Walker held no malice? He knew God intended the best for him, and for a moment, Gabriel had forgotten His goodness. He’d proceed with caution, remembering more than one of his mother’s girls had looked innocent as a child.
Mrs. Walker averted his scrutiny. “I want you to know the real reason why I contacted the Philadelphia newspaper.”
“I’d be obliged if you would. Naturally, I assumed you needed help with your land and your sons.”
“Yes, but I never thought a man would be interested in coming all this way, and when you did, I took it as a sign from God that this was His will. You see, two farmers asked me to marry, but I couldn’t tolerate them. I felt advertising for a husband made more sense. I wanted God to send what I needed.”
His stomach lunged. “Why didn’t you wed one of the men who proposed?”
She shrugged. “They weren’t God-fearing, or bathed, or good to my sons. When they came around asking, I threw them off my land. Guess they got a taste of my temper.”
A mental picture of this woman tossing a grown man off her farm leaped from his mind. It sounded incredibly funny, and he stifled a laugh.
“You can laugh,” she said, shaking her head. “Most folks around here do anyway. They think I’ve lost my mind by refusing to marry up with a man who’d take care of the farm.” She stopped talking abruptly, as though she suddenly felt embarrassed.
Gabriel thought about Lena’s confession, and a cloud darkened his mind. “Ma’am, are you desiring a husband who allows you to direct his ways?” I may not be handsome or successful, but I believe a man is head of his household.
Lena abruptly reined the horses to a halt. Her face paled. “By no means. I believe in the biblical instructions for husbands and wives—a husband guides and directs his home.”
“As I do. A marriage must follow every God-given precept.”
“Precisely. Now, tell me about yourself.”
The tension seemed to grow worse. He didn’t want or see a reason to reveal much about his person. He deemed a willingness to do right by her was all that held importance. “You already know quite a bit about me from our correspondence. My complete name is Gabriel Lawrence Hunters, and I’ve lived my whole life in Philadelphia.”
“Are your parents living?”
“Mother passed on some two years ago.”
“So your father is still in Philadelphia?”
Gracious, Woman, how much do you need to know about me? “I have no idea.” He prayed for a diversion, anything to stop the questioning. “This is magnificent country.”
She smiled. “Yes, it is. In late summer, prairie grass can grow taller than a man.”
He studied the landscape in curiosity and in avoidance of Lena’s inquiries. In the distance all he could see was flat land with miles of prairie grass, now limp and brown. According to his findings, this river valley hosted dark brown soil. Farmers near the Platte River grew mostly corn, but they also raised oats, barley, and wheat. Although Mrs. Walker’s land lay farther south, he assumed the farming methods were the same. He tried to envision what fields of ripe corn looked like. From his research, he gathered tall green stalks with green shoots and a cap of brown silky-like tassels. He’d find out in the months to come.
Gabriel remembered Lena mentioning in one of her letters about a few head of cattle, but he’d neglected to find out how many or what kind. He should have asked, since he’d be working with the beasts.
A hint of excitement, a rather peculiar sensation, spread through him as he considered this adventure. For the first time in his life he’d watch things grow: corn, cattle, pigs, a garden, and two freckle-faced boys. He’d learn how to farm properly; after all, he’d read the books.
Three white-tailed deer leaped across the road from the tall grass, such wondrous creatures. My, how he admired their gracefulness. The call of a flock of geese perked his ears. Staring up into the sky, he watched their perfect V formation head south.
Winter. Philadelphia was frigid in the winter, but he’d heard Nebraska received bitter temperatures and several feet of snow, and that wasn’t long in the making.
“It’s all so serene,” he whispered really to no one.
“Yes,” Lena agreed, “but the same things making it peaceful can also turn on you if you’re not careful.”
“I don’t believe I understand,” he replied.
“Nature,” she said simply. “Just when you think everything is perfect and a bit of heaven, it turns on you by throwing a twister over your land in the summer, or a prairie fire destroying everything in its path, or a blizzard to blind you in winter.”
Like a beautiful woman. Gabriel studied her features beneath a faded bonnet. This time he took in the oval shape of her face and large, expressive eyes framed by nearly black hair. Her pursed lips reminded him of a rose bud. If only Lena Walker appeared a bit less lovely. Those looks could defeat a man—drive him to lose his principles. He’d seen it done too many times.
The regrets about Lena again plodded through his rambling thoughts. A plain woman whom no other man might covet had been his heart’s desire. If blessed with any children, they might not look real pleasing, but he’d teach them how God examines the heart for true beauty.
Already Gabriel didn’t trust Lena, and they hadn’t even completed their nuptials.
three
Lena shoved a lump back down her throat. She’d made such a fool out of herself in trying to soothe Gabriel’s humiliation. The laughter she’d felt for him back in Archerville had quickly turned to regret when she couldn’t utter a single intelligent word.
They should be discussing the farm or arranging a time to talk about Caleb and Simon. She and Gabriel would be married in three days; they should be spending this time getting to know each other.
Fear gripped her like the time she’d sighted a cloud of grasshoppers descending on the fields ready for harvest. Gabriel Hunters was nothing like she’d pictured: He didn’t look like he’d ever spent a day in his life on a farm. Well, she simply had to know the truth.
“Did you grow up on a farm?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” he replied after a moment’s pause.
The fright subsided to a rising anger. “Where then did you learn about it?”
“From books,” he said simply, staring straight ahead.
His reply shook the very foundation on which she built her values. “From books? How can you feel the soil between your fingertips from a book? How can you tell the color of ripe wheat?”
“The written word is a valuable asset. I place complete trust in what I’ve read and studied.” His ample chest rose and fell, while the buttons on his jacket threatened to break free. “Man has farmed since the beginning of time. If it were a difficult process, then human beings would not have survived.”
I refuse to lose my temper. She clucked the horses to venture a tad faster. I refuse to lose my temper. “Many people have died due to crop failures or the natural hardships arising from living here. I hope you read that in your books.”
“I have.”
“And your conclusion, good sir?” She gritted her teeth to keep from adding a vicious retort.
“I have determined to be a farmer. There are many things for me to put into practice from the books I’ve read. If I had thought this undertaking an impossibility, I would not have answered your advertisement.”
Mercy. What have I done? Lena glanced back to see Caleb and Simon still dangling their feet over the wagon. God had entrusted her with those precious boys, and she would guard them with her life. She’d see them grow to manhood and have children of their own. They needed a father—a man who had experienced life and knew its pitfalls. Somehow she doubted if Gabriel Hunters could fulfill those qualifications. She’d cle
arly heard God’s affirmation in this strange union, but why? God must be punishing her for her pride and temper.
“Ma’am,” Gabriel said just loud enough for her to hear, “I’d be grateful if you’d give me an opportunity to be the husband and father you need.”
❧
Gabriel believed he had lowered himself as much as he could without some consolation in return from his future intended.
“I want to give you a chance, but you must understand how much I need a man who can work the land,” Lena said, her eyes moistening.
He did not miss her tears, and immediately he wanted to whisk them away. “I will not disappoint you.”
She hastily glanced away and pointed to a shadowing of buildings in the distance. “Up there is the farm. Besides the two horses, we have a mule for working the fields, a few pigs, chickens, ten cows, and a bull. Hopefully we’ll have more cows in the spring.”
Gabriel’s first view of his new home and its outbuildings fell far below his initial ideas of a rural home. He’d seen the great farms in Pennsylvania, the clapboard homes and the well-kept barns and sheds. The conditions here ranged close to the shanty life on the poor side of Philadelphia. Bleak. Desolate.
The cabin had been constructed of sod brick made from dried prairie grass and dirt. He remembered from Lena’s letter that the cabin was called a soddy. These structures kept out the heat in the summer and shut out the cold in winter. Gabriel couldn’t keep from wondering if it carried a smell. However, the structure did have two windows with real paned glass.
The roof looked like the same weathered sod laid over top some type of wood. From the bare spots with shoots of plant life sprouting up from them, he assumed the roof leaked. Obviously, carpentry would be his first priority, or whatever else he deemed necessary to make the home comfortable. Using a hammer and nails shouldn’t be too arduous, if those tools were required. He hadn’t seen any trees, and the quandary puzzled him. Where did one find wood?
