He felt her body shake and held her tighter thinking she was sobbing. To his astonishment she was laughing. “Oh Asa, my dear, dear man, you have it all planned out. Not that I’m complaining of course, but you just might stop for a minute or two at least and give me a chance to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ don’t you think?”
He loosened his embrace and letting her go rose to his feet. “Say ‘no? You would smash my heart to pieces. I’ve never ever asked anyone to marry me before. You wouldn’t say ‘no’. Please tell me you wouldn’t.”
She took hold of his outstretched hand and pulled herself up against his chest. Looking him straight in the eye she waited while he held his breath. “No, Asa, I wouldn’t ever say ‘no.’ I’ve waited long enough already for you to ask me.” Putting her arms around his neck she stretched up on tiptoe waiting for him to kiss her again.
Chapter Three
Fair Plain, Michigan
Summer, 1865
Thomas felt a little like he was imposing on his brother, David’s good nature. After all the man had just recently married and here he was sharing the house. The trip west had taken him longer than he’d expected since he’d stopped to visit his father. That had gone about the way he’d expected since he really didn’t remember the man very well at all. Hellen had made him welcome and professed to be glad to meet him. She encouraged him to remain with them as long as he liked. He thought about it but it didn’t feel right and he bade his good bye with a promise to return but told her that he really needed to see Granny and the others before deciding where to settle down. She’d smiled and suggested that there were plenty of pretty girls to be found right there, so if he couldn’t find any in Ionia he shouldn’t hesitate to come back. The children had taken to him and if he’d thought his father a bit distant that was just the way he was.
Granny had shed happy tears when he’d arrived. She and Aunt Esther were living in Bushnell with a refined gentleman named Caleb Mills who was the local doctor. Thomas did wonder about the arrangement but it was none of his business. Uncle Thaddeus and the others had welcomed him with open arms and hosted a big celebration, but it was David he felt most comfortable with so he had accepted his and Jennie’s invitation to move in with them.
He had no trouble finding work. The timbering business was booming, farmers always needed an extra pair of hands. Uncle Thaddeus put him to work so fast that he had hardly time to think. As for pretty girls, there seemed to be plenty of those as well. No need to be in any hurry, David had told him. “Marriage is a big responsibility so take your time. Why you’re hardly even dry behind the ears yet, little brother.”
Thomas had grinned good-naturedly but was annoyed at not being taken seriously. He respected David’s time in service and his injury but felt he’d seen a lot more action than his older brother ever had. But, he consoled himself, he is right about taking one’s time. I don’t think I’m really ready for a houseful of children anytime soon but it would be nice to have a woman to hug now and then. Jennie had overheard their conversation and flashed him an understanding smile.
Content to relax in the peaceful although busy atmosphere of the mid-western town, Thomas basked in the attention he was receiving from his grandmother and aunts. He smiled to himself as he soon became aware that everyone was attempting to match him up with someone considered suitable.
His memories of good times with Rebecca sat sweetly on his mind but with the number of available young women to choose from he felt quite comfortable being in no hurry.
Farming was necessary. He knew that. If one wanted to eat one either grew what he needed or had to pay someone to grow it for him. He’d enjoyed the construction work he’d done with Uncle Thaddeus and began to search out similar jobs around the nearby countryside. More businesses were opening and needed space for customers and many of the original Homesteader’s cabins required additions, either upward or added on to the back or side. Timber was readily available and extra hands were in short supply. Thomas quickly found himself in company with other returning veterans of the war who were traveling about the county and into the neighboring areas where they often found more work than they could handle. It felt good, he told himself one afternoon, to be on the road with men mostly his own age and who had shared experiences much like his own. The civilians were kind and gracious but had no way to begin to understand what the soldiers had been through. Too many nights he still found himself listening for Wesley’s voice announcing his imminent approach for a smoke and a chat.
Rebecca’s refusal had saddened him but as he looked around and met other young women he understood a little better why she hadn’t felt able to leave her home and family. In fact, he smiled to himself, she likely wouldn’t like all this open space and that girl living in the house we’re working on now is quite the lovely lady. And, he puffed his broadening chest and flexed his muscular arms, she seems to fancy me.
He heard a snicker behind him and turned to see one of the crew grinning at him. “Have your eye on the ol’ man’s daughter, do you?”
Thomas blushed and laughed. “Sure do. Why not? I don’t see her watching any of the rest of you. Nothing wrong with the way she looks, that’s easy to see. The grub she’s dishin’ up is better than most I’ve had in a long time. Couldn’t hurt to invite her to the square dance at the town hall tomorrow, now could it?”
“Guess not, but you’d better be quick about it. I imagine most of the fellows here have noticed her by now. How do you know she ain’t spoken for already?”
“Well if I don’t ask I’ll never find out, will I? It’s a bit late now, I suppose, so I’ll just have to get up first tomorrow and bust right out at breakfast.” He flexed his right arm again and twirled his imaginary mustache. “Now, you tell me,” he grinned broadly, “how could she refuse?”
Thomas found Miss Mary Ella Lake too busy at breakfast to be bothered with him. She and her mother were hastily serving up the morning meal for the small crew of construction workers the Lake family had housed over night. John Lake was really just one of the group, but he’d offered lodging to the others and they’d readily accepted his hospitality.
His daughter, cheeks charmingly pink from the hot stove, brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead with a floured hand leaving a smudge on her nose that Thomas didn’t dare draw attention to. He was bewitched by it and managed to avoid attempting to wipe it away with great difficulty. He did however muster enough courage to actually speak to her and learned that she intended to participate in the dance that evening but planned to attend with a group of friends. His spirits drooped until he realized she meant lady friends and his hopes to single her out as a partner rose.
The day was long and tiring but nobody was shooting at him and nobody was ordering him to shoot at anybody so he was content. It felt good to work hard in the warm sun and the dip in the creek that evening was pure delight. Thomas slipped into his newly purchased shirt and slicked down his hair that was curling over his collar. He ruefully rubbed his chin bemoaning the fact that his whiskers were still just a straggly excuse for a beard.
“You comin’, Hickok,” one of his co-workers called. “We don’t hurry all the pretty ones will be taken.”
Thomas’ cheeks reddened and he grinned again. Setting his hat on his head just so, he announced he was on his way.
The music could be heard from some distance away as the young men approached the Town Hall. The buzz of excited voices added another level of noise and when Thomas entered the building, he shivered with anticipation. He was back in Rush at parties given there. Then suddenly he was lying behind a redoubt waiting for the enemy. He shivered again as the trickle of fear crept down his back. All the while I’ve been away at war things like this have been going on. Did these people even know there was a war? One of his companions bumped his shoulder and his attention was drawn to a small group of men seated against the wall. He let his pent-up breath out slowly and nodded. The a
nswer to his question was right there in front of him. Several of the men were minus an arm while others sat with canes or crutches at hand. Inhaling deeply he was startled to hear a familiar voice announcing the next dance. Voice rising above the crowd, Uncle Daniel was calling “Choose your partners folks. It’s “Comin’ round the mountain.” The banjo set the tempo and the fiddles joined in. Next thing Thomas knew someone had taken him by the arm and he was half way around the square while Daniel was clapping and singing “do-si-do, swing your partner and allemande left.” Thomas stumbled, heard a giggle and looked up. Miss Mary Ella was holding his hand and laughing at him with the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen.
The evening went by in a blur. When Thomas finally lay his tired body down on the cot in his room he was convinced he had dreamt it all and didn’t want to ever wake up again.
When the cock crowed next morning and there was Miss Lake in the kitchen smiling and pouring him a cup of coffee he knew this was why he was here in this place. Later that day he asked her father’s permission to call on her and the two began the age-old process of getting acquainted. She taught school, she told him, but he had no steady job as yet so that required some planning, but he knew he did not want to live a life without her in it. It would take some time but ultimately Miss Mary Ella Lake would become Mrs. Thomas Hickok and she did.
Chapter Four
Hickok Farm
Rush, Pennsylvania
Fall, 1865
Asa had plenty of work just assisting Uncle Justus and his future father-in-law with the harvest. However, he wanted a trade, a profession of his own. Plowing and planting and picking were all well and good, but his heart wasn’t in it. Providing food for the table and maybe some to sell or barter for other needs was necessary, of course, but he knew he wanted something more. He’d learned rudimentary blacksmithing while in the cavalry and felt very comfortable with the horses. The feel and smell and individuality of each animal intrigued him. Something about the manner in which each one responded to the touch of his hands fed his soul, he thought. “Maybe that’s silly,” he scoffed while trying to explain this to Rebecca, “but that’s how I feel.”
“Asa,” she had answered, “It’s not silly, it’s a gift. Go see Mr. Angle, I hear he is looking for an apprentice. He’ll teach you what you need to know, I’m sure.”
“It will take some time, Becky. Are you willing to wait that long before we marry?”
“Now you are being silly. Of course, I am willing to wait for you to realize something that is so important to you. Truth be told, I’m no way ready to be married either. I’ve not even started a dower chest.”
“Dower chest? Whatever would that be?”
“Asa dear, it’s an ages old custom for a woman who is preparing for marriage. Almost every household has one. It’s a chest to keep your collection of quilts and linens that every new household needs to have before one can set up housekeeping. It wouldn’t do now, would it, to have nothing with which to make the bed?”
He looked at her animated face wondering if she were making fun of him and decided that even if she was the only thing to do would be to laugh and give her a kiss so he did.
She was quite pleased with it as a matter of fact and gaily waved him away. “Go, see Mr. Angle today, I know he will be happy to take you on.”
Asa knew David Angle, of course, and took her advice willingly. Angle, pleased to have a strong young man for a helper instead of the boy he’d been trying to train put Asa to work at the bellows immediately. By the end of the first week Asa’s back was aching, his hands and forearms scarred with burns and his face a ruddy red. He declared he was loving every minute of it and getting anxious to try his hand at actually making the horseshoes instead of just applying them to the snorting, stamping animals the farmers brought in regularly.
Boasting of his accomplishments one night to Rebecca he announced that Mr. Angle was planning to let him also begin the process of shaping the iron and cladding the wagon wheels that were another part of the business. “I really like this work, Becky. Watching the farriers and smiths that we had with us in the army fascinated me and I hoped I might be able to find someone to teach me. Uncle Justus does know quite a bit but we do not have access to a forge all that often. David Angle is a good teacher and tells me I’ll have no difficulty starting up my own business when I’m ready to do that. The question will be where to do that. I don’t really want to be in competition with someone else and Rush isn’t exactly the biggest town around.”
Rebecca smiled at his enthusiasm. “I’m sure it will all work out just fine, dear.”
There were days that fall when the wind was just right that she could hear the ringing of the hammers from the smithy as the two men went about their business and she smiled at the pride Asa took in his work as his shoulders and chest filled out and his hands and arms grew stronger. The boy she knew was becoming a man she was proud of and the haunted look in his eyes was slowly fading away.
Chapter Five
The Kunkle Farm
Rush, Pennsylvania
December, 1867
Two years had passed slowly despite the amount of work two farms required while Asa honed his blacksmithing skills. He was earning a reputation for good work and Mr. Angle was quite satisfied with his progress he proudly told Rebecca one evening. The time had arrived, he believed, that he should go out on his own but he wasn’t sure where the best location for another forge might be found.
Rebecca, trying hard to be patient, pressed and folded her finished quilt top and laid it away in the small six-board chest Asa had made for her collection of linens. Time enough after the holidays to add the batting and muslin backing when the winter quilting parties would begin. She was beginning to get anxious about the marriage that seemed to be getting farther and farther away. She understood Asa’s need to feel he could support them properly. He absolutely refused to consider moving in with her family and under no circumstances would he bring her home to live with Uncle Justus and Aunt Mary. He apologized continuously about the delay but insisted he wanted his own place and his own business before he was willing to set up housekeeping with her. He continued to insist and beg her to at least try to understand his feelings. “Becky, this is important, I want us to have our very own place. I’ve lived all my life in someone else’s house and I want ours to be ours, not someone else’s. You do understand, don’t you?” He would ask plaintively.
“Well,” Rebecca muttered to herself as she lowered the lid of the carefully sawn and fitted chest. “I try to understand but I’m not getting any younger and if he is going to want children, it’s time we started thinking about that.” She rose to her feet and smoothed down the apron she wore over her rumpled skirt. “Children,” she mused, shivering slightly while taking note of how many brothers and sisters she had. Tucking up a strand of hair that had come loose, she mentally counted them off. However had her parents managed with the tribe they had produced? Thirteen in all, if she remembered correctly, six boys and seven girls, all born safely with only little Eddie dying young, She choked back the sudden tears that threatened to fall as the three brothers dead from the war came to mind. The pain was still too fresh. She thought of Thomas Hickok and bit her lip. No wonder he couldn’t bear to stay here. Asa does, she affirmed, feeling another tremor trickle down her back… because of me? Why else? He says this is his home and where he belongs, but really, he has no home here anymore unless I help him make one.
“Becky? Where are you?” she heard a small voice calling from below.
“I’m right here, Sarah,” she answered. “I’m coming. What is it you want?” Her seven-year-old sister stood looking up from the bottom of the stairs as Rebecca made her way down to the front hallway.
“Momma says she needs you in the kitchen,” Sarah answered, her dark eyes round with concern. “Something about the root cellar, I think.”
Rebecca sighed. The chi
ld could no doubt fetch whatever their mother required from the cellar but the dark, dank place frightened her and the little one would go nowhere near it. Coming into the cluttered room she met her mother’s eyes with amusement. The older women’s arms were elbow deep in the wash tub. “I know,” she murmured, “the child can be a trial at times. That imagination of hers will get her into trouble one of these days I’m sure. I need a couple of those jars of the mincemeat we made. I thought to make a pie for tonight.”
“Pie? Sounds good. Is tonight special somehow?”
“No, not really, I just thought with your Mr. Hickok coming for supper a mince pie might be nice.”
“Ma,” Rebecca laughed, “You know perfectly well, mince pie is one of his very favorite things. What are you doing? Buttering him up?”
Sarah humphed, fed a piece of washing into the wringer and cranked vigorously trying to hide her smile.
Asa sat that evening at Sarah Kunkle’s table replete after two pieces of the pie which he praised fulsomely announcing he could not manage another bite. He declared himself very well fed indeed and when he bade Rebecca good night a short while later asked if she would be free tomorrow to take a sleigh ride with him over to Silver Lake. There was something there he would like to show her. Full of curiosity she assured him a sleigh ride through the newly-fallen snow would be lovely.
The pale sun shimmered through the thin layer of frosty clouds when he pulled the one-horse open sleigh up in front of the Kunkle house the next morning. Handing her up then tucking the bearskin robe over her knees and placing the wrapped bricks hot from the fire under her feet, he grinned like a small child with a big secret and climbed aboard. Flicking the reins with a flourish Asa guided the rig out of the yard and onto to the road.
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