An Unexpected Mother (The Colorado Brides Series Book 4)

by Carré White

  Jane slid off the bed, falling to her knees. “I need to say my prayers.” She clasped her hands together, bringing her chin to her chest.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll do mine too.” I glanced at Mary and Susanna. “You don't have to say them out loud, if you don’t want to. I do mine silent mostly.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hatch.”

  Dear, Lord. Please watch over the children. Help them to understand I’m sorry for what they’ve been through. I’m sorry I wasn’t more polite with Pastor Bailey, but he’s a…horrible man. I don’t know what came over me today. Please help me to survive this ordeal. Why have you done this to me? Oh, never mind. This is either a punishment for something or a lesson, as usual. I seem to be on the receiving end of an awful lot of lessons lately, Lord. I’m not all that happy about it either. I…this prayer has been a disaster. Just…just bless the children and me, and please watch over us. Amen.

  Jane crawled into bed, pulling the blanket to her chin. She turned, her back to me. I couldn't help wondering what she had prayed for.

  Chapter Seven

  The girls were surprisingly easy to rouse in the morning, but their brothers were another matter. It was my responsibility to have everyone dressed and ready for school. I was in a state of near panic finding shoes and socks for the boys, while the girls were in the kitchen having breakfast. Hannah’s housekeeper, Maria, was indispensible, as she had prepared eggs and ham with fresh bread.

  “There now,” I said, brushing Peter’s hair. “That looks better.” One wayward strand would not behave, so I wet it with saliva, hoping it would stay down.

  “None of my socks match, Mrs. Hatch.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll sort it out later. You can call me, Fanny, you know. We don’t need to be so formal.”

  He grinned. “I like you, Fanny. I don't know why my sister hates you, but you seem nice to me.”

  I hadn’t been expecting that. “Thank you. I’m sure once Jane gets to know me things will go better. She’s done a very good job looking after you.”

  She’s been like our ma,” said Connor. “I sure do miss my ma.”

  “Of course you do. She’ll always be special to you. You boys have been through so much. I can’t imagine losing my family like that. You’re very brave.”

  “We got no choice, Fanny,” said Peter. “We made a pact to stick together, and that’s what we’re gonna do.”

  His chest puffed out fractionally, and I couldn't help smiling. “That sounds like a solid plan.”

  “You’re not gonna split us up, are you?”

  I glanced at Connor. “Split you up?”

  “Send us to different families. I want to be with my brothers and sisters.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Jane thinks you’re plannin’ on it.”

  “No.” Anger pricked. “Absolutely not. I have no intention of separating any of you.”

  His expression lightened, a smile emerging. “That’s a mighty big relief.”

  “It sure is,” said Peter.

  “Well, we should hurry or we’ll be late.”

  I would have to speak to Jane. I had to put a stop to the speculation, which was erroneous. My life would never be the same again now that I had unexpectedly become a mother of five, but I fully planned to adjust to this change in circumstance. I had begun to accept my fate, although I was still reeling from the shock.

  Once the children had been situated within the wagon, George, Hannah’s Labrador retriever trotted towards us, his expression excited, and, before I could stop him, he jumped onto the conveyance. This delighted the boys, and Susanna squealed with glee.

  “Oh, for goodness sake. That dog. George. You can’t come!”

  Hannah appeared on the porch with Letty in her arms. “I’m sorry about that. He’s used to going to town.”

  “Can’t he be with us, Fanny?” asked Peter. “We might need him if the Indian’s attack.”

  “There aren’t many Indians left around here.” I glanced at Hannah. “Can you spare the rascal?”

  “Please take him. He’ll be completely underfoot, if you don’t.”

  Mother appeared. “Wait!” She raced down the steps. “I have a small list for the mercantile. I need a few things. Here’s some money.”

  “Is there anything else? We’ll be late, if we don’t go now.”

  Letty waved. “Bye! Bye, bye, bye.”

  I stepped onto the wagon, sitting next to Jane and Mary. “Are we ready? Do you have your school things?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hatch.” Jane’s expression was stern.

  “Oh, very well, but you don’t have to be so formal. Fanny will do fine.” I pulled on the reins. “Yah!”

  It was nearly an hour before the outlines of Denver City emerged; the wooden buildings flanked a thick, dusty thoroughfare. The school was past the church, and I gazed at the white-painted building, seeing a horse and wagon on one side. Pastor Bailey was in attendance. I had no desire to stop and talk to him. Pulling into the schoolyard, I bid the Hatch children a good day. The boys and Susanna played in the yard, while Jane and Mary spoke to several older girls. They hardly paid me any attention as I left. After I had purchased the items at the mercantile, I rushed to the wagon, hurrying home for lunch. I kept an eye on the clock all day, knowing I would have to leave to retrieve the children an hour prior to the school’s closure. It occurred to me that traveling four hours a day was a huge inconvenience.

  The day went by far too fast, and, once I reached the school, Louisa had pulled in before me, helping Annie into the wagon. “Hello!” I called.

  “Hello, Fanny.” She smiled. “I must have missed you this morning.”

  “We were a little late.”

  She approached, wearing a yellow bonnet. “I don’t envy your drive. Mine is only a half an hour.”

  I lowered my voice. “Oh, gracious. How will I do this every day?”

  “Isn’t Pastor Bailey taking them on Thursday?”

  “Yes, but this arrangement is dreadful. Perhaps I should just keep them all week, but then there’s the horrible drive.”

  “Well, you could teach from home, I suppose. In the winter, after a storm, we stay at the house. It’s impossible to go around in three feet of snow. There are other families who teach at home. I’ve books on the subject, if you care to look at them.”

  My shoulders slumped. I’d never been this responsible for anything before in my entire life. “I…suppose.”

  “This is only your first day, Fanny. I know it’s overwhelming right now. It will get better. I had to adjust to Matthias’s children. The boys were like wild animals. They still have to be corralled and disciplined. Their natural instincts are to run free. Your bunch seems to behave.” Jane led her brothers and sisters from the school, bringing them to the wagon. “And that girl has it under control. She’s put together well.”

  “I suppose. She’s not fond of me.”

  “You’ve only been with them a day. It takes time to build relationships. Once they get to know you, they’ll love you, Fanny. You’ve the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re always in good spirits. Things will come around. Just wait.”

  I wasn’t as optimistic, but I would continue to pray for guidance. “It was delightful talking to you, Louisa.” I hugged her. “You’re full of good advice.”

  “Only because I’ve had to learn it all through trial and error. I’m not perfect, Fanny. None of us are. We can only do our best. That is all that’s asked of us.”

  “Will you come to the house on Saturday?”

  “Of course.” There was movement behind her, as Hugh and Oscar came bounding over, screaming. “Oh, pipe down!”

  “Loretta’s got a frog! I don't wanna catch warts,” cried Hugh. “Run!” They raced by us, but Oscar had grabbed Louisa’s skirt, sending it out behind her.

  “See. It could be so much worse. Be thankful.” She stepped into the wagon. “Get in, boys, or you’ll have to walk home.”

  “I’ll see you t
omorrow.”

  “We can have coffee, if you want.”

  “I would really like that. It’s been ages since we’ve been able to talk.”

  “I have to hurry home. I’ve dinner to prepare.”

  Jane and Mary waited patiently, while the boys and Susanna sat in the back with George, whose tongue dangled from the edge of his mouth. “How was your day?” I glanced at Jane, who stared straight ahead.

  “It was fine, Mrs. Hatch.”

  “Did you have a good day, Mary?”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  There were a few wagons waiting in the yard. The other children lived in Denver City or nearby, and they had disappeared down the street.

  “Miss Cox made us do sums all mornin’,” said Susanna. “I don’t care for math, Fanny.”

  “I can help you with your homework, if you have any.”

  “No, ma’am,” said Peter. “We don’t have homework.”

  I glanced at Jane. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, we did our work at lunch.”

  “Well, that’s efficient.”

  “It only made sense seeing all the chores we’re required to do once we get home.”

  Oh, goodness. She seemed so severe. “I doubt they’ll take more than an hour.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “That remains to be seen.”

  “What did Pastor Bailey have you do when you stayed with him?”

  “We dusted and swept the church. Peter and Connor helped him make a bookcase.”

  “A bookcase?”

  “A big one with lots of shelves. The boys sanded, and the girls had to paint.”

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  “I suppose.”

  We were in the center of town, passing the saloon and the post office, while horses and wagons trundled by. “What sorts of hobbies do you like? Are you good at painting?”

  “Mary and I finished the bookcase. It turned out lovely.”

  “Have you ever used oil paint or watercolors?”

  “No.”

  “What about you, Mary? Would you like to paint like that?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you like sewing? I embroider cushions occasionally and knit. I’ve extra material. I’ll share it, if you want. Then we can buy more for special occasions.”

  Susanna was behind me, and, to my surprise, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I want to sew, Fanny.” Her sweet breath was near my face. “We should make stuffed bears.”

  “Well, we will then.” It was heartening that at least Susanna embraced me with such generosity. I noted the look of disapproval on Jane’s face; the girl glared at her sister.

  “I should love a bear, fanny. Maybe two. My birthday is next month.”

  “It is?” I grinned. “You need to tell me when your birthdays are.”

  “I’m Oct 5,” said Peter.

  “Mine’s June 23,” said Connor.

  I glanced at Jane. “When’s yours?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “Of course it’s important. I’ll need time to make the cake and get you presents.”

  Susanna’s grip around my neck tightened. “I love cake! Can I have chocolate? I love creamy topping too!”

  “Yes, you can have chocolate cake.”

  “Can we have it even when there isn’t a birthday?” asked Peter; his look was expectant.

  “I’ll talk to Maria. Maybe she has the ingredients.”

  “Jane,” said Susanna. “You were wrong. Fanny’s not nearly as bad as you say she is. Anyone who’s willing to make cake when it’s not a birthday is good in my book.”

  The scowl on the older girl’s face deepened, as she stared at her hands. “I never said any such thing.”

  “Oh, yes you did.” Connor grinned impishly.

  “Just be quiet now,” said Mary. “Shush, both of you.”

  The ice had begun to thaw with the younger children, but I had my work cut out for me where Jane and Mary were concerned. They were older and far too wise to the ways of the world. They had felt the impact of tragedy far more acutely. I would have to think of how I could earn my way into their good graces.

  Later that evening, after dinner, Mary was in the kitchen with her hands in the sink, washing dishes. I helped by drying and stacking my sister’s prized dishes on the shelf nearby. We had eaten venison stew with mashed potatoes and chocolate cake for dessert, which Susanna helped to make. She had eaten quite a few spoonfuls of batter, sneaking bites when she thought no one was looking. The same thing had happened with the topping, which had been made with whipped cream flavored with cocoa.

  Mary handed me a plate. “Thank you.” I’d been trying to talk to her, but the precocious thirteen-year-old was determined to keep our relationship as impersonal as possible. The next plate came my way, but before I was able to take a hold of it, it fell to the floor, breaking into three pieces. “Oh, no.” I bent to retrieve it. “These are my sister’s favorites.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her face seemed oddly blank, but fear flashed in her eyes.

  “What happened?” Hannah had come up behind us, carrying a bowl.

  “We broke the plate,” I said. “I’m dreadfully sorry. I know you went through great pains bringing them out here.”

  “Paulina had that pleasure. Let me see.” She held the pieces. “Yes, that’s done now.”

  “Will I be punished?”

  I glanced at Mary, perplexed by her fear. “It was an accident.”

  “It’s not the first plate I’ve ever broken.” Hannah left the pieces on the table. “I might be able to glue it together. I’ll ask mother about it. She’s fixed things like this before.”

  “I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” said Hannah. “It’s no worry now. Let’s finish the rest of the dishes so we can read aloud. We love books around here.”

  The air crackled oddly, with an undercurrent of discomfort and distress. It looked like Mary might cry, her eyes watering. “I have to…use the privy. Excuse me.” She rushed to the kitchen door, exiting with haste.

  “Oh, goodness,” murmured Hannah. “The older ones are decidedly emotional. Must everything be a drama?”

  “They are. If only the cake could’ve won them over.”

  “Well, the boys and Susanna love you. Now we just have to figure out how to bring the other two, those stubborn little sourpusses, into the fold.” She giggled.

  There was movement behind Hannah. Jane stood in the doorway. She had heard every word my sister had uttered. Oh, dear.

  Chapter Eight

  The coldness from Jane and Mary continued, while the boys and Susanna had warmed up to me, even embracing me at times, especially when Maria and I made treats. I tried my best to encourage the older girls to help with needlework or knitting, but they didn't seem to care for arts and crafts. I had gone to school to talk to Miss Cox. She had shown me what they had been working on, and I had seen the drawings that Jane had made. They were of the prairie behind the school, and they had been beautiful finished.

  It seemed that I spent most of my day traveling back and forth to town, and by Thursday, I was more than ready to share the responsibility with Pastor Bailey, but I dreaded having to see him. Our last meeting had been filled with anger and animosity. I doubted today would be any different. The children could have walked to the church after school, but I was in town, having to run errands, and a small part of me was worried that he had forgotten about our arrangement. They climbed into the wagon for the short ride; their things were in several bundles in the back. Pastor Bailey’s wagon was by the side of the building, and I assumed I was to bring them here.

  “Let’s go in. I’ll see if he’s here.” I stepped from the wagon, as Mary and Jane followed. The boys dashed around in a circle, having chased Susanna, who shrieked excitedly. “Shush, now! It’s a church.”

  I placed a finger to my mouth for silence. I relished having a few days to myself. The frequent trips to to
wn and the stress of having to deal with Jane and Mary’s less than friendly behavior had taken a toll on me.

  We were in the Nave. “Do sit here for a moment. I’m going to find him.” I strode down the aisle, inhaling the light scent of incense. Pastor Bailey was in the small office, sitting behind the desk. He glanced up when I entered; his expression was unguarded for a moment, revealing distaste.

  “I’ve brought the children.” He seemed confused for a moment. Had he forgotten our shared responsibilities?

  The quill he had been using was left on a sheet of paper. “How can I help you?”

  “Truly? You don’t remember?”

  “From all accounts, I’ve heard things are going well. When the children are adjusting so beautifully, why would you want to upset everything?”

  “Oh, I see. It’s quite all right for my life to be turned upside down, but heaven forbid you’re inconvenienced in any way.”

  “They aren’t my children. I wouldn’t uproot them at this juncture. They’re adjusting well—”

  “How do you know that? I’m the one dealing with them. My sister’s house is filled with more people than she knows what to do with. She’s been dreadfully inconvenienced. I’ve three girls in my bedroom! I haven’t had a moment of peace since Sunday, when I was told that I was suddenly a mother.” What was it about him that provoked my anger so quickly?

  “I…meant to come and—”

  “Hogwash! You had no intention of checking on us. How you were named pastor for this community is beyond me. You’ve shown absolutely no compassion at all for your parishioners, especially…especially me! You could care less about the stresses I’ve been suffering.” I glanced around the book-lined space. Everything seemed well-organized. “You’re here in your nice little office, writing letters in peace and solitude, while I’m feeding and washing up after five children. I won’t even bore you with how many hours I spend driving back and forth to town every day.”

  He had gotten to his feet, towering over the deck. “Must you provoke a fight each time we meet?”