A Family Arrangement

by Gabrielle Meyer

  Another hour passed and Charlotte moved from one dance partner to the next, but Abram did not approach her. He danced with Mrs. Hubbard and Mrs. Perry, and then again with Maude—but still he did not ask Charlotte.

  Her feet began to hurt and disappointment wedged its way inside her chest, though she tried to hide it from her dance partners. Eventually she didn’t feel like dancing anymore and excused herself.

  She left the barn and walked toward the privy, so no one would follow her, but she wound her way around the outbuilding and moved past the house and continued on to the river.

  A bright moon cast shadows on the ground, illuminating the sawmill. The river rushed past, pushing and tumbling like a young child just released from school.

  Charlotte stood on the riverbank and wrapped her arms around her waist, uninterested in returning to the dance to watch Abram from a distance. She didn’t know why his behavior troubled her so, when it shouldn’t matter whether he danced with her or not.

  Maybe she was disheartened because Abram was getting close to achieving his goals and she would be leaving in September without the boys. The schoolhouse was framed and the shingles had been put in place. Half of the siding was tacked on the sides of the building. All he needed was a preacher and a doctor—which seemed almost too easy at this point.

  She sighed and took a seat near the water. It was already the middle of June. Abram had two and a half months left to complete her requirements—and she had two and a half months to figure out how she would say goodbye to her nephews...if it came to that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Abram smiled down at Miss Perry. “It’s been a pleasure dancing with you, again, but I’m afraid the others will string me up a tree if I ask for a third dance.”

  Miss Perry laughed, but she had no witty comeback or reply—not like Charlotte would.

  He bowed toward Miss Perry and then turned away, just as Charlotte slipped out of the barn. Several men exited to watch her departure and Abram felt compelled to step outside to make sure she was safe.

  He had tried not to notice her this evening, but it had been impossible. She was breathtaking in her blue gown, her hair done up in shiny curls. His only defense against the churning feelings inside was to keep his distance from her, which had been hard to do, especially when he was conscious of her every move, her every partner and her every glance in his direction.

  It was almost as if she’d wanted him to notice her—yet he couldn’t fathom why. He and Charlotte had developed an understanding, and even a fondness for one another, but he suspected that it had more to do with the children than it did with him.

  He watched Charlotte skirt around the privy and move on toward the river, as the other men returned to the barn.

  Abram followed Charlotte’s path and stood near the corner of his house, watching her by the riverbank for several minutes.

  She stood, looking out at the river, and then she sat, her shoulders bent forward. What was she thinking about? Was she contemplating her return to Iowa City? Or...was there any hope that she might consider staying in Little Falls and starting a dress shop here?

  But what would be the point of her staying? They couldn’t go on as they had been.

  Or could they?

  No, it was a pointless thought. Charlotte had no desire to make a life for herself in Minnesota Territory. She already had one in Iowa City and she was probably itching to return and pick up where she had left off.

  A group of men walked by the house, on their way south, no doubt to the shanty saloon. The men were coming into town so quickly, Abram didn’t have time to get to know them, and he suspected that many of them were drifters. Several were probably running from the law as was common in frontier towns.

  Wood Street had become quite a thoroughfare, which made Abram apprehensive. He didn’t like so many people coming that close to the house—especially when Charlotte was out there alone in the dark.

  He pushed away from the house and walked toward her.

  Charlotte sat on the grass to the south of the mill, her skirts billowed out around her. The moon shadows played with her figure, giving her an ethereal appearance. She was a stunning woman—both inside and out. In the months he had come to know her, he saw what Susanne had often talked about. Charlotte wasn’t afraid of hard work and she was a good teacher. She had taught herself sign language and then taught it to all of them, even to some of the men who came to the house, so they could communicate with Robert.

  She was fiercely protective, and confident, and loyal—all things he valued. She was also witty and smart and she had a tender heart. He suspected that if she ever trusted someone enough, she might let down her guard to reveal more of her inner beauty—and that would be a sight to behold.

  The water rushed past in a soothing melody and it mingled with the distant sound of the fiddlers’ music.

  Abram took a seat next to her.

  She startled and turned. “Abram.”

  “I didn’t think you should be alone this far away from the barn.”

  “I didn’t think you even noticed I was there.” She looked down, her vulnerable words tearing apart his resolve to keep his distance.

  Maybe it was time he and Charlotte spoke plainly with one another. “Of course I noticed you were there.” He touched a dangling fringe on her shawl. “How could I not?” Dare he admit the truth? “You were the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  He waited, holding his breath.

  She kept her eyes lowered to her hands as she played with a wrinkle in her gown. “Why didn’t you want to dance with me?”

  He let out the breath on a long sigh. “Why do you have such a hard time accepting my compliments, Charlotte?”

  She looked at him, her eyes filled with determination. “Why won’t you dance with me, Abram?”

  Could it be that the answer was the same for both questions? He couldn’t dance with her because holding her at a distance was much safer than holding her in his arms. Was that how she felt about his compliments? Was she refusing to accept his praises because she was trying to guard her heart?

  They continued to sit on the riverbank, but neither one said a word. The music spilled out of the barn and light illuminated the backyard. Beyond that, Little Falls sat up on the hill, overlooking the Mississippi, growing from a seed of a dream.

  His town, his legacy, was taking shape before his very eyes. He wished his father and Susanne could see it—but somehow it didn’t matter anymore. This had truly become a gift for his boys and it felt good to live out his dream in front of them—and Charlotte.

  “I do appreciate your compliments,” she finally said. “I just—Sometimes I’m afraid if I let myself trust you...”

  “Charlotte.” He hoped he wouldn’t regret his next move but he needed her to understand he was a man she could trust. He moved closer to her and lifted her hand in his.

  She didn’t pull away—of that he was grateful—but neither did she look at him.

  “I don’t know why you’ve always distrusted me—but I promise you have nothing to fear.”

  She finally looked at him and he saw tears gathering in her eyes. One slipped down her cheek.

  “What’s this?” He lifted his hand and moved away the tear. It glistened on his fingertip under the glowing moon.

  “I wish I could believe you, Abram.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  She opened her mouth but at that moment another tear slipped past her eyelid and trailed down her cheek. She reached up with her free hand and wiped it away. “I’ve been hurt far too many times.” She paused, as if gauging whether or not to continue. “My father was responsible for my mother’s death because of his insatiable desire to follow one dream after another. But—” She stopped again.

  “Charlotte, whatever it is, you can tel
l me.”

  “I don’t know if Susanne ever told you about Thomas.”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Thomas was my fiancé. I believed, with all my heart, that he loved me and that together we could build a life in Iowa City. He knew about my fear of leaving civilization, and my desire to care for and protect Susanne, but he still loved me and asked me to marry him. A week before the wedding, he disappeared. When I went to his parents to find out where he went, they said he was chasing gold out West.” She took a deep breath and let out a weary sigh. “He didn’t say goodbye or even write to explain. He just left me alone, brokenhearted.”

  She looked up at Abram. “When I met you, and we first danced, you told me all about your hopes and dreams, and I saw the same tendency in your heart. It made me angry and afraid.” She removed her hand from his hold. “I wanted to stay as far away from you as possible because I believed you would follow in my father’s and Thomas’s footsteps.”

  So that was why she had turned a cold shoulder toward him—but couldn’t she see he wasn’t her father or Thomas?

  “When you started calling on Susanne, I tried to convince her to stay away from you—because I wanted to protect her.” More tears appeared and this time she didn’t wipe them away. “I thank God that we were able to resume correspondence—but when I learned she had died, just like my mother, I—” She choked on the word and put her face in her hands. Her curls cascaded down her cheeks. “I blamed you, Abram—and...and I blame you still. I want to blame Susanne, but she was blinded by your charm and couldn’t see the truth, as I could.” She looked at him, disillusionment in her eyes. “I have to guard myself against the pain you’re capable of inflicting—and that scares me more than anything in this world.”

  Anger set in, hot and fiery beneath his skin. “I never set out to blind Susanne. I fell in love with her, and she with me.”

  “But you had nothing to offer her—didn’t you see that this life was not fit for her?”

  Nothing to offer. He still had nothing to offer.

  “I tried to make both of you see,” Charlotte said. “I knew what would happen, if you had only listened. You married too fast.”

  “We married quickly, because of you.” There, he’d finally admitted the truth. “You pushed us toward eloping, Charlotte. The very thing that hurt you most is the thing you created by your stubbornness and unwillingness to bend. You thought you were doing the right thing, but you were only creating more strife—just as you’re doing with Harry.”

  She inhaled.

  “You can blame Susanne and me for running away and leaving you alone, but you should ask yourself what part you played in the whole ordeal. Susanne and I didn’t know the outcome—I didn’t know much of anything, except that I loved her.” He stood and looked down at Charlotte. “I’m not ashamed of having a dream and taking a risk. I’m not ashamed of asking Susanne to marry me and bringing her here. I blame myself for many things—but I never set out to hurt her, or anyone else.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Charlotte also stood, desperation in her voice. “You didn’t plan to hurt Susanne, just as you don’t plan to hurt your boys—but I’m afraid you will, Abram, in time, just as my father did.” She swallowed hard. “You’ll become tired of this town when it starts to become more work than play. I can already see it happening. You’ll start getting an itch inside and you’ll look toward the horizon to see what new adventures await, if you haven’t already.”

  His jaw became hard and he took several deep breaths. “Maybe it’s time you went back to Iowa City.”

  She shook her head, tears and pain in her voice. “I wouldn’t go back now—not when the boys need me. I won’t leave until there is a school for Robert to attend, and a doctor to see to their needs, and a preacher to help bring hope to the desperadoes filling the shanty saloon—including Harry.”

  Her stubbornness knew no bounds.

  “Fine,” he said. “You can stay and watch me prove you wrong.”

  Her shoulders loosened and she leaned forward, her eyes desperate. “I wish you would, Abram. I really wish you would.” With that, she turned and walked toward the house.

  Abram resisted the need to chase her and convince her now, in this moment, that she was wrong. That he wasn’t a villain and that if she’d let him, he would do whatever it would take to win her approval and heal her heart.

  Because despite the fact he told himself it didn’t matter what Charlotte thought, it always had—more now than ever before.

  * * *

  The following three weeks slipped by much as the weeks before and Charlotte found the months of June and July to be the most beautiful of all in Minnesota. Wildflowers grew in a profusion of pinks, purples and yellows along the riverbanks, wild strawberries filled the untouched plots of land and wildlife teemed on and above the water.

  She stood outside in the sunshine, a cloudless sky hanging overhead, and draped the last bedsheet on the line to dry. Her gaze wandered up the hill toward the town and she couldn’t help but wonder where Abram was and what was occupying his time. He worked from sunup to sundown, and sometimes even later. There were mornings, like this one, when he left the house before she was awake, and evenings when he came in hours after she went to bed.

  After the dance they had barely spoken to each other, or seen each other for more than a moment or two—and she was grateful. After spilling her heart to him, and revealing the depths of her mistrust, she didn’t blame him for his anger.

  She stopped and wiped her hands on her apron as George toddled around her basket and Martin played with her clothespins, using them like little soldiers. Robert sat off by himself, under a large oak tree, its leaves unfurled and sheltering him from the sun, holding a book Charlotte had ordered for him. It was full of maps from around the world, and filled with colorful paintings from different countries, showing clothing and food and culture. She had found in him an insatiable desire to learn, and she wanted to seize that curiosity and to use it to propel him on to great things. Already, he had learned how to read three-and four-letter words, and was proving to be a bright young boy.

  “Yoo-hoo! Miss Lee!” Mrs. Perry appeared at the head of the old wagon road, which was now dubbed First Avenue and ran from the mill up to the Hubbards’ new home and beyond. Mrs. Perry waved her hand to attract Charlotte’s attention. “Do you have a minute?”

  Charlotte had grown used to neighbors stopping in to chat. In a town with only a few dozen women, they had quickly banded together and formed a tight-knit group. “Of course. I’m just finishing.”

  Mrs. Perry came down the hill, her cheeks flushed and her green eyes shining. She wore a pretty dress and her hair was styled in a neat twist. Her appearance never failed to impress Charlotte, who stood in a work dress, her apron and bodice wet and stained from laundry.

  “I couldn’t wait to tell you the news.” Mrs. Perry placed her hand on Charlotte’s arm, breathing hard.

  It seemed every day brought some news or another—usually on the lips of Mrs. Perry, who had proved to be a woman of many words. Of interest recently was the arrival of the first newspaper, the Northern Herald, which had started printing the very day it was assembled. Before that, it had been the arrival of Mr. Hall, the first attorney in town.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” Charlotte asked. “I made molasses cookies.”

  “No, no.” Mrs. Perry shook her head, her hands moving to her hips as she panted. “I want to share the news and then scoot over to Mrs. O’Dell’s house to tell her. These sorts of things have a way of spreading fast, and I do so enjoy being the first to share them.”

  Charlotte smiled to herself, wondering why Mrs. Perry hadn’t gone into the newspaper business herself. If this news was so important that the woman wouldn’t stop for cookies, it must be serious. Charlotte rested her hand on George’s head as
he toddled past. “What is it?”

  “A second hotel is going up—the American Hotel—and I’ve heard there’s already competition between the builder, Mr. Allen, and Mr. Richardson.”

  That was the news she was so eager to share? “Already? Neither hotel is even ready to be occupied.”

  “No, but they’re both vying to hold the first real ball in town, so they’ve hired more men to complete their buildings, and the first to finish will host the ball.”

  “How nice.”

  “Oh, and maybe I should have led with this news, for it affects us all,” Mrs. Perry said, almost breathless. “A Dr. Parker has arrived and purchased the store building on Main Street, across from the church building. He just put out his plaque today and has advertised his services to one and all in the Northern Herald. It’s a relief to know we aren’t dependent on the military doctor any longer.”

  “A doctor?” Charlotte wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “He’s brought a young wife and baby along with him. I’m eager to get over there and see what I can learn about them. I’ll be sure to fill you in.” She let out a contented breath and clasped her hands together. “There, I think that’s all I have for now.” She started off with a wiggle of her finger. “Happy wash day, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte lifted her limp hand and waved back.

  A doctor.

  Now all Abram needed was a preacher, and to finish the school.

  The boys played contentedly in the warm sunshine, their blond hair shimmering and their cheeks tan. George looked up with his brown eyes and gurgled at Charlotte. He lifted a wooden clothespin toward his mouth and chewed on it as he waddled over to Martin and the band of soldiers marching through the grass.

  “Hey!” Martin jumped up and reached for the clothespin in George’s mouth. “Aunt Charlotte, George took one of my soldiers and he’s eating him!” He wrestled it away and held it upside down as drool dripped off the end. “Eew! You put slobber all over my soldier, Georgie.”