Instant Prairie Family (Love Inspired Historical)

by Navarro, Bonnie

  He can’t let her stay

  Will Hopkins’s new housekeeper is the prettiest young woman he’s ever seen—and that’s the problem. Will thought Abigail Stewart would be a middle-aged matron well suited to hardscrabble prairie life. Even if his young sons are entranced by her wholesome kindness, his only option is to send Abby back east. For the sake of propriety...and his guarded heart.

  Answering the newspaper advertisement was Abby’s chance of escape from her unhappy home. But now her employer has turned out to be a rugged widower instead of a widow. A marriage in name only will allow her to remain long enough to find another job. Or until a misunderstanding becomes the means to a second-chance family....

  “I... What did you say your surname was?” she asked in a choked voice.

  “Hopkins,” Will replied. The girl’s face went deathly white.

  She pulled her satchel up onto her lap and started sorting through her things. Finally she pulled out a paper and handed it to him. It was the ad his mother had created to find him a housekeeper. The ad Miss Stewart had answered. But did that mean... No, it couldn’t be. The woman in front of him, who looked as if she might give in to tears at any moment, couldn’t be Abigail Stewart.

  “You’re...you’re Miss Stewart?” Will said incredulously.

  Tommy poked his brother. “She’s our new house?”

  “Housekeeper,” Willy hissed.

  She straightened her back and tilted her chin up to look the boys’ father straight in the eye. “Yes.”

  Any answer Will might have given was interrupted by Tommy’s response. Throwing his arms around the woman’s waist, he squeezed tight while yelling out, “You’re our Auntie House!”

  BONNIE NAVARRO

  and her husband of nineteen years reside in Warrenville, Illinois. Their four children range in age from seventeen to eleven. She works as a medical interpreter at a hospital and a teacher’s aide in a middle school. She and her family attend a Spanish-speaking church, and everyone in the household is at least bilingual—including the dog! Bonnie attended Moody Bible Institute. While attempting to earn a degree in Bible theology, she successfully earned her MRS. degree, followed a year later by her MOM degree, thus ending her formal studies. She is a member of Voices, part of MyBookTherapy. Bonnie’s hobbies include reading, writing, knitting and hanging out with her family.

  Bonnie Navarro

  Instant Prairie Family

  “For I know the plans I have for you,”

  declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you

  and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.”

  —Jeremiah 29:11, 12

  My deepest thanks are due to my Savior and Lord. May He receive all the glory for any thing

  I might ever accomplish.

  I would be remiss if I didn’t give thanks

  and honorable mention to:

  Joanne, I blame you for empowering me

  to believe that I could write a story someone else would actually want to read. You said someday you’d see me in print. Thanks for believing in me even when I wasn’t so convinced.

  Betty, Dad, Martha and Terry.

  You all took your time to read

  and suggest corrections on different manuscripts.

  I learned something from each one of you.

  Cesar, Liz, CJ, Gaby and David—

  thank you for letting Mom work on her book even when you wanted dinner/to talk/clean clothes....

  I love you guys!

  There are so many more who have helped me

  on my journey to write—to each of you,

  thank you and God bless.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Questions For Discussion

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Harlan County, Nebraska, 1881

  Will scooped up six-year-old Tommy and called to Willy over his shoulder, “It’s time to go, son. The wagon is hitched and we need to leave so that we can get to the river before nightfall.” Will had left detailed instructions with Jake, his nephew, about the care of the livestock and what Jake should be doing in the next three days. Now everything was ready for them to leave—everything except his oldest son. Willy had dragged his feet all morning, and Will was quickly losing his patience with his namesake.

  “Are we going to go get the new Auntie Shelia?” Tommy asked, his little face full of excitement. His eyes were the same color as Caroline’s had been—an expressive hazel that changed hues with her mood. Did the boy actually remember Auntie Shelia? No, that was impossible. Tommy was only three when Auntie Shelia had come to stay with them after her niece Caroline’s death. She stayed six months before she declared the West “too dangerous and uncivilized for anyone to hope to raise a respectable family.”

  “No, Tommy, not another aunt. She’s our new housekeeper,” Will corrected gently, trying to find the right words to explain. “Miss Stewart is coming to do the cooking and cleaning and help you and your brother with your studies. She will be like a grandmother to you but isn’t related to you. She’ll be our housekeeper. Do you understand?”

  Will glanced out of the window impatiently, aware of the sun rising high in the horizon. It must be close to nine and they had a full day’s ride to get to the river before dark. From the river it was only a little more than a two-hour ride and they would be in Twin Oaks with time to get cleaned up well before the train arrived tomorrow at noon.

  Miss Stewart was due in on that train and he needed to be there. It wouldn’t do to have his new housekeeper step off into the small prairie town and not have the family there to extend their welcome.

  Will hadn’t been all that set on the idea of bringing in a housekeeper when his mother had suggested it, but after several letters back and forth, he’d become convinced Miss Stewart was the perfect woman for the job. She was only one of a few dozen women who had replied to the ad his mother had placed in the Christian Ladies’ Journal who seemed to want the job for the right reasons. Most of the others were only thinly veiled attempts to trap a husband. Miss Stewart wrote that she was ready to move on from her sister’s home where she had lived for years, and that she wanted to settle in with a family who loved the Lord and where she could put her education and her gifts of cooking and cleaning to use.

  Instead of answering his father, the boy yelled to his brother, leaving Will nearly deaf, “Hurry, we’re going to go get our new house.”

  “Not house, Tommy,” Willy snickered, finally sauntering down the stairs. At age nine he felt he knew all there was to know about life and delighted in informing his little brother. “Our new housekeeper. She’ll probably take one look at this mess and make Pa take her right back to the
train station.” He sounded almost hopeful. Willy was right about one thing—their house wasn’t likely to make a good impression. He and the boys would have to do their best to make up for that.

  “Hey, that’s enough. Now both of you head out to the wagon,” Will ordered, setting Tommy back on the ground and glancing around his kitchen. The place had become messier as time went on. He had a bad habit of burning the oatmeal, and two skillets sat soaking in the sink were reminders of his lack in the culinary arts. One more thing Will had included in his instructions to Jake—make the place somewhat presentable before they arrived with the new housekeeper.

  Will imagined a woman his mother’s age. From what he had read in her letters, her character seemed to be above reproach, and that was his main interest—that, and how well she cooked. Hopefully Miss Stewart could teach his boys some table manners, as well.

  Finally, Will and the boys were in the wagon, moving along toward the river. The sky seemed so big and far above the earth and stretched out in all directions without any hindrance. The prairie plants, just having started to grow again after the winter, danced at knee level and waved on the breeze that kept the sun from completely baking both man and beast. Will was grateful for his hat. There were no trees to offer shade on the large expanse of prairie until they came closer to the river.

  As he drove, he took in the breathtaking scenery. His thoughts turned to how majestic God was, having formed all this with just a word. Will didn’t need to be in church to be awestruck by God. Creation was enough to hold him spellbound and speechless. The boys asked questions and he took advantage of those opportunities to show them God’s handiwork.

  After a full day’s drive and a good night’s sleep by the river, Will headed into town, glad to be almost at his destination. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way the small town of Twin Oaks had grown from just five houses in the middle of nothing a few years ago to a small but bustling village. New settlers seemed to be arriving all the time. People were still taking advantage of the Homestead Act that President Lincoln had signed back in 1862. The same law Will and Mathew had taken advantage of ten years ago. Will found a spot in the shade of the train depot and tethered the horses to the hitching post.

  Their first stop once they were in town was the barber. He wanted to impress Miss Stewart—not scare her off. The boys had not had a haircut in more than a year. He hadn’t been very vigilant about combing out the snarls, either. Once everyone looked civilized again, the barber offered them each a piece of hard candy from a jar on his countertop.

  Main Street was crowded—plenty of people waiting for goods and travelers off the incoming train. Back out on the street, he headed the boys toward the mercantile. Glancing at his pocket watch, he assured himself there was still time to pick up supplies before he needed to meet the train. Afterward, he could take the new housekeeper and his boys to lunch at the one and only hotel in Twin Oaks.

  Standing in the doorway of the store brought back memories of his father’s store back in Philadelphia with all its sights and sounds. His throat tightened and he was surprised as a wave of nostalgia caught him unexpectedly. He took in the sight of wares stacked on wooden shelving and in barrels on the floor. Would his boys ever see his father’s store?

  Pushing aside his sudden homesickness, he set to work, choosing supplies. Warning Tommy and Willy not to touch anything, he let them wander around to look at the toys and gadgets on display. Meanwhile, he bought some coffee, sugar and a few other cooking items women used to buy at his father’s store. He didn’t even know how to use most of them but figured maybe Miss Stewart would. He hadn’t savored homemade baking since Mathew’s wife, MaryAnn, had died. It would be a treat just to have someone who knew their way around a kitchen again. He would ask the new housekeeper if she had ever made raisin bread or bread pudding….

  He picked up the small crate of raisins and made his final selections. At the counter, he greeted Josh, the owner.

  “Good to see you again,” Josh said, tallying up the purchases on a piece of paper and then entering the figure in his ledger. “I haven’t seen you since you brought in your wheat last fall.”

  “Yeah. I like to stock up when I get out. It’s more than a day’s trip out and I wouldn’t risk it in the winter,” Will rejoined. He wasn’t really in the mood to chat, but he didn’t want to seem rude, either. “Town seems to be growing.”

  “It is. We’re getting more people every year. Are you going to be staying in town overnight or are you headed back?”

  “We’ll be headed back.” Will was used to keeping his life to himself, but Tommy had other ideas.

  “We gotta take our auntie House back to our farm,” the little tyke explained in his mixed-up way. The shopkeeper blinked at Tommy and scratched his head, but Tommy continued on without a break. “She’s gonna be a grandma to me and keep the house nice. She’s even gonna teach us stuff like how to be gent’men. She’s gonna be really nice—not like our other auntie, who was mean and yelled all the time….”

  “Tommy.” Will was surprised at the last statement. Tommy couldn’t possibly remember his great-aunt. He must have been parroting something he heard from his older brother, or his cousin. But, no, it wasn’t likely Jake had said anything—the teenager wasn’t the type to tell tales. If anything, Will wished he was more in the habit of speaking up for himself. Willy, like his brother, had no such problem.

  What did Willy remember of his great-aunt? Will had been too busy trying to keep the farm afloat to pay much attention to how the woman treated the children. He was going to have to do a better job this time. He wanted his boys educated but not at the cost of their being mistreated.

  Once again, doubts assailed him—was he doing the right thing by letting a total stranger into his home? Maybe he and Jake could handle the boys on their own. But he’d given Miss Stewart his word, and she had packed up her whole life to come out to Nebraska. He had to at least give her a chance. Maybe he could let her stay for a few weeks while he watched how the boys reacted to her. Meanwhile, he’d pray about sending her back or having her stay. She might decide Nebraska wasn’t right for her after all. She’d hardly be the first to feel that way. In the meantime, there was no sense in borrowing trouble.

  After all, he had been praying for this since last spring. God directed Miss Stewart to answer his ad and she would be arriving within the hour. Obviously God’s hand moved in this and had sent her here. Tommy and Willy needed a woman’s influence in their upbringing.

  With that thought in mind, he prayed for wisdom and headed the boys out of the mercantile and off to the train station. The sound of the locomotive whispered on the wind as it came closer to town. Its whistle announced its approach before it even came into view. In just a few minutes, Miss Stewart would step off the train, and Will would see how right he’d been to bring her to Nebraska.

  * * *

  Within a few minutes, Abigail Stewart would be arriving in the town that was to be her new home.

  The prairie looked so different from the rolling hills of Ohio that had been her only home for all of her twenty-six years. Nebraska felt as if someone had taken a huge rolling pin and flattened everything, leaving only waving grasses and flowers. Even the trees were missing. But the colors were vibrant as Abby watched the world pass by, and she couldn’t help hoping that they symbolized a bright, happy new life she’d have with the widowed Mrs. Hopkins and her children, free from Abby’s domineering sister and her brother-in-law’s
inappropriate attentions.

  How would she be able to recognize Mrs. Hopkins? She had never asked for a description before. She’d just assumed that she would be able to see something in the woman’s eyes that would match the gentle spirit and spunk Abby inferred from her letters. Now she wished she’d asked for more details.

  Abby glanced around the stuffy passenger compartment at the other passengers traveling with her these last few days. The loud Erving family spread throughout the car. Watching them, Abby couldn’t help wondering what her own nieces, Megan and Hanna, were going to do now without Abby there to encourage them. They were beautiful girls, almost on the brink of womanhood. Would suitors begin to call on them soon? What sort of lives would they end up leading? And the rest? How would Harold get his studies done with Peter always bothering him? Would little Katie even remember Auntie Abby? The girls had promised to keep in touch, and Abby knew she would cherish their letters and the news they would share. She only hoped she’d have lots of good tidings to share by return post about her new home and the family she hoped would accept her as one of their own.

  As the conductor opened the door to the car and called out, “Twin Oaks, Nebraska. Next stop,” Abby stuck her knitting into her satchel. She checked under her seat, pulled her satchel strap up over her shoulder and hugged it close. It held her letters, coin purse and knitting. Her heart sped up as she saw the town come into view. It was small and somewhat rough, as Mrs. Hopkins had warned her, but it looked fresh and exciting to Abby as she hoped that maybe she would find a place to belong to here.

  As the train bounced and lurched to a stop, Abby tried to stand and found herself tossed against the conductor. Mr. Galvan had proved to be kind, making the trip as comfortable as possible for everyone. He regaled them with stories about other trips and the fascinating people he’d met over the past three years working for the railroad. The stories were a little marred by the man’s terrible memory for names, but were very entertaining all the same.