Instant Prairie Family (Love Inspired Historical)

by Navarro, Bonnie

  She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop and she hadn’t stayed to hear much more. What she had heard was enough. Still puzzled about what made her unlovable, she poured out her heart to God.

  Her most secret dream lay within reach and yet had never seemed further away. A wonderful man had shared his name with her and promised to protect her, held her hand during the challenges of the day and kissed her lips as sweetly…. The dream she pushed into a closed corner of her heart, too extravagant to contemplate for a girl who had never once been courted, felt in some moments as if it had come true. Will personified the man she dreamed of—but he admitted to his friend he regretted having married her even before the ink had dried on the parchment. When she heard Mr. Hopkins suggesting Pastor MacKinnon should have offered to marry her so he wouldn’t have had to, she’d known he would never come to love her. They were bound by a vow and all the witnesses from the ceremony, but she was more alone than ever.

  As if her thoughts could conjure him up, his steps sounded on the stairs above her and then drew closer. Her heart pounded against her ribs faster with each footfall.

  Tonight was her wedding night! Most new brides would be looking forward to being alone with their new husbands. Instead she was cowering in her room. They had already agreed that nothing would happen tonight or any other night. What did she have to fear—other than the loneliness that had been her constant companion for so many years?

  “Why, God? Why is it that no man can love me?” she cried quietly, wishing that Will would just go away even as she tensed, aware he stood silently outside her door. Was he angry that he was stuck in this situation? He and Pastor MacKinnon appeared to be good friends and yet he had yelled at him.

  The floorboards creaked under his feet as he shifted, standing just on the other side of her door. Would he knock? Would he send her away? Maybe it would be better for everyone if she just left once and for all. Her hand was on the handle, gripping it so hard her fingers had turned white, and she couldn’t feel the tips anymore but she couldn’t find the strength to turn the knob.

  The flooring creaked once more, making her jump and hold her breath as she heard him move away from the door. His footsteps echoed back to her as he left the house, the back door closing almost soundlessly behind him. Relief and grief mixed together and suddenly the weight of everything was more than her knees could bear. As if her bones had turned into wet sand, she collapsed on the floor, a puddle of grief, hot tears streaking down her face. She hugged her legs to her middle and cried out her longings for a home, a family, for someone to love her.

  * * *

  Morning came too early. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Abby had sat on the floor crying for what seemed like an eternity the night before. When she finally did get up, she changed clothes and hid under blankets that she pulled over her head even though the night was too warm for them. She tossed and tuned but didn’t sleep until very late. When she awoke, she was aware of dreaming about looking for something lost and never finding it.

  The rooster crowed once again and Abby realized the sky was already tinged with pink. She was late getting up and starting the fire in the stove. This was not a good start if she wanted to prove what an asset she was to Will. Rushing, she pulled her hair out of the braids she hadn’t even undone the night before and brushed out the kinks as best she could. She rebraided her hair but didn’t even bother coiling it into a bun again. She would deal with it later.

  Donning her tattered housedress, she splashed her face with tepid water and rinsed out her mouth. Without looking at the mirror she rushed out to the kitchen. Her face felt stiff and her nose was stuffy, but she couldn’t worry about that when there were hungry men to feed. As she fed the embers of the fire she was starting, she gave a wry laugh. She had never thought herself vain, but what else could you call it when she was concerned about how she looked even when the two men that were coming to the table for breakfast had both clearly indicated their lack of romantic interest in her?

  The coffee had barely started to heat when the door opened and Will stepped into the kitchen. His face was pale and his hair still stood on end on one side. His eyes had fine lines around them and he looked as if he hadn’t slept all night. Before she could say anything, Pastor MacKinnon followed through the door.

  Abby felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. This morning would have been almost like all the others if it hadn’t been for the pastor’s presence and the minor change of marriage. If the pastor hadn’t been there, would Will have acted more like his usual self or would there still be the stilted formality between them?

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hopkins!” Pastor MacKinnon greeted her jovially. He looked well rested with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Was there a reason that he insisted on calling her by her new title? Did he do it to goad Will? She had assumed the pastor was just being formal with his parishioners earlier, but now she wondered.

  “Good morning, Pastor MacKinnon, Will. I’ll have your coffee in just a minute.” She turned back to the stove and wished that she could make the coffee boil faster.

  “She’s Abby. We don’t go by titles here, Colin.” Will’s voice was deep and husky.

  “That’s fine by me, as long as it’s fine by her.” Both men had come to wash hands in the sink and Abby stepped away, pretending not to hear the conversation as she reached for the mugs. Pulling ingredients for pancakes out of the pantry, she returned to find both men studying her face.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Will asked, concern etched in deep lines on his brow.

  “I’m fine. I’ll get you the coffee in just a minute.” She offered what she hoped looked like a smile even though her face felt tight and dry.

  “No need. We just brought in the eggs and milk.” He indicated to the items that sat in their usual places on the counter.

  “Thank you. I’ll—”

  “Don’t worry about us.” Will stood blocking her path to the stove where the coffee now boiled. “But are you sure you’re all right? Your face is...well...it’s all blotchy. And your nose is red. Are you getting sick?”

  Heat burned her face as she realized why her face was blotchy. She’d cried herself to sleep. Her eyes must be all puffy and red rimmed. She should have soaked her face with cool water last night before bed or at least looked at a mirror this morning.

  “I’m fine.” Even as she spoke, she realized that her voice sounded deeper and a little raspy.

  “Then why—”

  “I think she’s had a long night pondering her current state, isn’t that right, Abby?” Colin jumped in and saved Abby from having to explain herself but at the same time, proved that her worst fear was true. Everyone would know that she had been crying last night.

  “Abby, is that true? Were you up all night crying about what the Scotts said about you?”

  She didn’t raise her eyes to meet Will’s but focused on his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  “I wasn’t up all night,” she denied, unsure what else to say. There was no way she was going to admit that she had been crying about what he had said, not the Scotts’ behavior. “If you’ll excuse me.” Stepping past him, she lifted the kettle from the stove and poured coffee into the mugs. Scooping a spoonful and a half of sugar into the first one, she stuck the spoon in and gave it a good stir before handing it to Will. She poured milk into the other and handed it to the pastor.

  “I didn’t notice you take any sugar yesterday, Pastor McKinnon.”

  “No, this is just how I like it, thank you.”

  “Breakfast will take a few more minutes, so if you would like to take a seat...” She motioned to the kitchen table, but both men shook their heads.

  “There are stalls to muck out and horses to check on,” Will answered, glaring at the pastor.

  Silence reigned over the kitchen as Abby turned back to the stove. Soon the smell
of ham frying and pancakes browning in a pat of butter filled the kitchen. The only sounds were the occasional sip of coffee from one of the men and the sizzle from the stove.

  Pastor Colin finally set his cup down next to the sink. “Thank you, Abby. That hit the spot. You make mighty good coffee. I think just the smell of breakfast is gonna make us work twice as fast today.” He smiled good-naturedly and headed out toward the barn.

  “He’s right. Your coffee’s always good,” Will said begrudgingly.

  “I’m glad you’re pleased, Mr. Hopkins.” She didn’t turn around but kept her eyes on the stove, embarrassed that she’d used his formal title after he’d asked her to call him Will. It was easy enough to think of him by his first name in the privacy of her own thoughts, but when she was nervous while speaking to him, she’d accidentally slipped up. Would he scold her for forgetting his request?

  “I’d be more pleased if you’d just call me Will,” he said, his voice soft and gentle—almost wistful. Then he headed out without looking back. If he had looked he would have seen surprise and confusion written on her face.

  * * *

  Why did that woman have him all tied up in knots? Will knew he wasn’t handling things well, but why did she have to look as if she was about to burst into tears? It broke his heart and made him sick to think he had brought all this about. If only he had been more careful. She was far from home and in a marriage that was nothing more than a sham. The least he could have done was to be a friend for her. But all he had managed to do was trip all over his own tongue.

  Judging from the look on Colin’s face, he was going to hear all about how much he had to change to be worthy of that lovely young lady cooking his breakfast back in his kitchen. Hoping not to have to listen to any more accusations than what were already flying around his own head, he gave wide berth to Colin mucking out the first stall.

  Will couldn’t ask for a better friend. In fact, Colin had been his closest friend since he had lost his brother. But even Colin had skated on thin ice yesterday, telling him to hold on to Abby and not let her go. Didn’t Colin realize Will was trying to do the right thing?

  Seeming to sense the tension, Jake worked silently instead of jabbering on about a lot of nothing as he normally did. Not that Will minded most of the time. He’d become more of a son than a nephew to Will. They had worked side by side since the day Matt and MaryAnn had died. It worried Will that in private, Jake wouldn’t stop talking, but he wouldn’t utter a word around most people. Abby was changing that, slowly earning his trust and then openly chatting with him about topics she was sure he would be knowledgeable in. Will had noticed that yesterday at church, Jake had seemed much more comfortable chatting with others, bringing up things Will had overheard him discussing with Abby.

  The silence from both his best friend and his nephew pricked his conscience. If only his own thoughts would leave him alone. They were making up for the silence of the other men. Finally the chores were done and the smell of breakfast was pulling them all like a lasso looped around their middles.

  “Why don’t you go on in, Jake?” Colin suggested. “I have something I need to say to your uncle.” Will looked up and found a solemn gaze pinning his.

  “Don’t waste your breath. I know I didn’t handle that well back there,” he admitted with a long sigh.

  “Last night I thought you had the sense of a fence post. You proved me right this morning. Of course she was going to have a rough night! She’s a newlywed who spent her first night as a married woman all alone. Not only that, her new husband is snorting like a bull that got into loco weed. If I were a betting man, I’d wager she didn’t cry over what the Scotts said. Did it cross your mind that maybe she feels you’ve rejected her?”

  Will stared at his friend. Abby knew the marriage was just to save her from either marrying one of the Scotts or putting up with their disgusting accusations. It provided a way for her to stay at the farm until other arrangements were made. It would take some time, but she would be leaving.

  And how do you know that she won’t want to stay come wintertime? The question crossed his mind for the first time. He bit his lip to avoid answering out loud. The answer Because it’s happened before bounced around in his head.

  She was a better person than Caroline—braver, kinder, more honest and honorable—but in the end, she wasn’t that different from his first wife or her aunt. Caroline and Shelia had both made it clear to him that they deserved better than the rough prairie life he had to offer. If it was true of them, then it was definitely true of Abby. She deserved to be coddled, to have parties and nice, fancy dresses with lace trim and the ease of living in a town. He wouldn’t make Abby give up a life she would enjoy to be stuck on a farm with only hard work and worries as her daily companions.

  “What do you think I should do? Make her my wife and let her shrivel up and die like Caroline? There’s no way I’ll let that happen to Abby. I have already sent a letter to my mother to see if she can arrange some sort of work for Abby where she’ll be safe and happy. Somewhere she can go to dances and get all dressed up. Ma knows many people in Philadelphia.”

  Colin’s hand gripped Will’s shoulder. Will expected anger or even contempt in Colin’s eyes, but the sympathy he saw caught him in the gut like a sucker punch.

  “She’s not Caroline. Don’t sell her short. She’s got grit. I only met Abby yesterday, but I see a lovely woman who would be a good mother to your boys. And since they’re already calling her ‘Ma’ you’re gonna have the fight of your life to convince them she doesn’t belong to your family.”

  “She’s not Caroline but she still deserves better than this life, just like Caroline always said.”

  “Don’t let the past ruin the future, Will,” Colin stated seriously. “You’d have to be blind not to notice how lovely your wife is. Don’t let her get away or you’ll regret that for the rest of your life.”

  Colin released his hold of Will’s shoulder and headed toward the house. Will stood still contemplating his friend’s words.

  “I don’t know about you,” Colin called back without breaking stride, “but your wife’s cooking has my mouth watering. If you don’t hurry, I’m gonna eat my share and yours, too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Almost a full month had passed since the fateful day that Abby went to the chapel and came home married. More than three weeks of slow adjustments to a strange loneliness even as Abby found things to occupy her hands and her mind. Life on the farm had started to fall into a routine. The cooler mornings were for chores and then she and the boys would stay inside in the shade and focus on schoolwork until suppertime. She faithfully watered and weeded the garden. Any day now she would have lettuce, celery, cucumbers and tomatoes to add to her meals. The potatoes and pumpkins would take a while longer.

  Each day was an adventure with the boys, who were now baked brown by the sun. On Mondays she washed the laundry and then they made a game of hanging all the clothes on the line. Tuesdays and Thursdays she took the boys down to the creek to fish for dinner while she read to them.

  One morning they got so involved in the adventures of their hero that Willy lost his fishing pole to a large catfish. He jumped in the water after his pole and barely caught it. Abby hesitated for an instant, but as soon as Willy’s head went under a second time, she splashed in herself. She might not know how to swim, but she wasn’t going to let Willy struggle alone.

  She found the water was only up to her waist and the current wasn’t strong enough to knock her off her feet. Relief made her giggle. Even with her sodden skirts, she had no trouble catching hold of Willy, who was still battling with the catfish. She held him tight around the waist as he reeled in the fish. Tommy extended the net as they brought in the fish together. Having scored victory over the cat
fish, Abby and Willy climbed the bank of the creek and lay out in the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree branches overhead, letting the warm breeze dry them.

  “Thanks, Ma. I was scared till you caught me! I can’t wait to show Pa and Jake I got the big one.”

  Abby lay there in the warm afternoon and breathed deeply to keep the tears scratching her throat from cursing down her face. It was the first time Willy called her Ma. If only she could be assured she would always be here to catch the boys….

  She and Jake became friends, too. After dinner and the boys’ bedtime stories, Jake would find Abby on the porch out back. They took advantage of the twilight hours for her to teach him math and science. His mother had taught him to read when he was small, but he only read when forced to, until Abby lent him some of her books. As Abby encouraged him, he started to tell her more and more about his life and his memories of his parents. They realized that they had been about the same age when they had each lost their parents. The common ground helped them both to understand each other.

  Her husband was the only person on the farm who held her at arm’s length. While she had grown accustomed to calling him by his given name, an uncomfortable civility could be felt in their everyday encounters that hadn’t been there before. Often, she would barely lay eyes on him from sunup to sundown.

  Foolishly, she waited for the minute she saw him walking toward the house and felt something akin to relief at the sight of him each night. Just to see his face made her heart beat a little faster. She never gave in to the desire to fling the kitchen door open and embrace him, but she would silently cherish his arrival.