An Unexpected Love (The Colorado Brides Series Book 5)

by Carré White

  “I understand,” said Jack. “We’ll be there first thing in the morning to help. The children will have to miss school. We need everyone.” A chorus of happy voices greeted this announcement.

  “Oh, don’t think it’ll be easy,” warned Fanny. “After working the fields, you’ll be wishing you were in school doing sums.”

  “We’re ready to help,” said Peter. “I’ll show you how well I can kill bugs. Me and Connor are gonna kill ‘em all.”

  “Now that’s the spirit.” Nathan grinned. “I’ll be on my way. You all take care. Thank you in advance for your help.”

  After he had gone, the mood shifted, and, sensing Fanny and Jack’s concern, I shepherded my siblings upstairs, preparing them for bed. When I returned, I found them seated together on the sofa, holding hands. They had been praying.

  “I’d like to pray too.”

  Jack smiled warmly. “That would be wonderful, Jane.”

  I sat across from them in a rocking chair. “Lord, please keep the pests from our fields. Have them go elsewhere to eat. Please save Hannah and Nathan’s crops. Help us tomorrow to be victorious in this endeavor, and thank you for all your blessings. Thank you for watching over us and keeping us safe. Amen.”

  “Thank you, Jane,” said Fanny.

  “I’ll say more prayers before bed.”

  “We need as many as we can get,” murmured Jack.

  I was aware that I would be seeing Ryan again, as he was still employed at the Weaver farm, but I had firmly resolved to put the “tipi incident” behind me. It was a lapse in judgment on my part, and such a thing would never happen again. With this in mind, I began to prepare for bed, changing into nightclothes, brushing my hair, and traipsing out to the privy; all the while, my memory had begun to torment me with images of the things that had happened between Ryan and myself. By the time I slid between the sheets, I was in such a state of anxiety, that I knew sleep would be impossible. I left the bed, trying not to disturb Mary, who snored softly. Not wanting to wake my sisters, I quietly went into the hallway and down the stairs, where I stood at the window staring out into the night. To add to my vexation, the high-pitched shrills of coyotes sounded in the distance. I would never again think of the animals in the same way, as they would forever be associated with the soft, insistent lips of a man. I could almost feel the touch of him on my neck, while my body began to tingle with pleasurable pulses.

  “No!” I whispered in frustration. “All it takes is knowing I’ll see him again and then…this.” I rested my forehead against the glass. “Lord, give me strength. Please help me not to think about him anymore. I really don’t want to. I’m madly in love with Wesley and…and…I shall be his wife…eventually.” I repeated that several times.

  The coyotes continued to make their strange, crying sounds, while the house slept. It would be some time before I returned to bed, finding that Mary had taken most of the blankets. I tossed and turned for most of the night. We were woken early, as the touch of a hand on my shoulder brought me out of a deep sleep.

  “We’re almost ready to go,” said Fanny.

  I turned to look at her, seeing a woman in a bonnet. “Oh, all right. I’ll hurry. You should’ve woken me earlier.”

  “Just get yourself ready, and we’ll be waiting outside.”

  I flung the covers back. “Five minutes and I’ll be presentable.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what we would be doing today to help the Weavers, but all of us, including the little ones, were tucked away in the wagon for the short ride to Hannah’s. Once there, other wagons had joined ours, and I recognized Paulina and Louisa and their children. Craning my neck, I scanned the workers, most of whom I did not recognize, until I spied Ryan standing against a fence on the end. He wore denim slacks with a green tow shirt, which had been tucked in and surrounded by a leather belt. His raven locks were hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat. He must have sensed my attention, because he lifted his chin, staring at me.

  My belly flipped over, as if I had swallowed a fish that wiggled inside of me. It was the most peculiar feeling, and it began to chip away at my resolve. I could feel myself weakening—from only one look.

  Oh, gracious.

  But, I wasn’t able to ponder this reaction for long, because we had all been pressed into action. My siblings and I had been given flails, which we would systematically use to beat the insects off the vegetation. The flails were two pieces of wood attached by a short, sturdy chain. This was normally how grains were separated from their husks, but today they would ward off the grasshoppers.

  “I need everyone to follow me,” said Nathan, waving a hand in the air to get our attention. “We’ll start at the worst affected field and work our way across.”

  Everyone, including Louisa’s children began to march through the cornfield, which smelled sweetly of grass and earth. The heat of the sun beat down upon our bonnets and hats. The elder Hoffmans had stayed behind to mind the younger children, most of whom were toddlers. They would have their hands full. Hannah had transformed the parlor into a playroom, bringing out every toy Letty and Charles owned.

  The stalks were infested with noisy, screeching grasshoppers that clung to the plants, chewing away at anything they could get their mouths on. Once we began to fling our weapons, the insects took to the air, landing on stalks further away. I was hopeful that we could beat them right out of the field, but, midway through, it became clear that it would not be so easy. The constant slashing became exhausting after an hour, and the hour after that, my arms were throbbing. I switched hands frequently, striking the plants gently, trying to dislodge the bugs, although they would shoot into the air only to land on the next stalk. After reaching the end, my boots were caked with dirt, my skirts were filthy, and my arms ached.

  “Good job!” yelled Nathan. “Now let’s go back again.”

  Groans resounded, but we trudged into the field, determined to gain the upper hand. By the time we had finished the second go-around, we were ready for a rest and lunch. The men had drenched their shirts with sweat, while my dress clung to me, damp with perspiration. I’d caught glimpses of Ryan occasionally, seeing him swinging his flail with aplomb. He removed his shirt at one point, as did several of the other workers, their toned chests gleaming in the sun. He labored several lanes away from me, which I was grateful for; otherwise, I would have struggled to concentrate on the task at hand. Seeing him in such a state reminded me of the day when I had trespassed into his tipi without first asking if anyone was inside. The men donned their shirts for lunch, as it was improper to be half-naked in front of ladies, although those rules had been negated in the field.

  I sat on a blanket with Louisa’s children, Annie, Oscar, and Hugh, while others were in chairs that had been brought out and other blankets. I assumed Ryan had taken his food to his tipi. He preferred to be by himself. Once the meal of sandwiches and lukewarm tea had been devoured, I set off for the privy. Upon my return, I overheard Samuel and Nathan talking.

  “It’s not working,” said Samuel. “We had the infestation for two days, and they’ve eaten through most of the corn.”

  “We have to keep trying,” said Nathan. “One more walk through and then I’ll think of something else.”

  Matthias joined them, looking concerned. “We should dig the ditches and fill ‘em with the tar.”

  “Yeah, that’s next,” said Nathan. “The smoke might ward them off. If the flailing doesn’t work, we’ll try that.”

  “You notice how they fly together,” said Samuel. “They take off at the same time and land at the same time in a bunch. It’s strange. There were some plants that hadn’t been damaged at all. I saw clear patches in the middle of the field.”

  “I saw that,” said Nathan. “I wonder if some folks will get lucky and not get ‘em?”

  “Maybe,” said Jack, who had strolled over. “They’re operating in a herd mentality, but your field is awfully infested. They just moved along to a new stalk.”

  “I’
ve not yet exhausted all my options,” said Nathan. “I’ll think of somethin’ else. It would be a shame if this entire crop went to ruin.”

  I skirted around the men, making my way to where the children sat, but, instead of joining them, I headed towards the jugs of water, hoping to get a glass.

  “It’s been a long time,” said a voice behind me.

  I knew who had spoken. “It has.”

  “I’m always hoping you’ll come back and work here.”

  Holding a cup, I turned to face him, worried by how hard my heart had begun to pound. “Hannah doesn’t need help at the moment.”

  “I never was able to apologize.”

  “That’s not necessary. It’s just as much my fault.”

  “I’m sorry for being…so forward with you.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “Did that beau of yours ever come down from the mountain?”

  “N-not yet.” His gaze was sober, but something simmered beneath the surface that sent my belly into nervous spasms.

  “I hate the grasshoppers, but they brought you back to me.”

  “You shouldn’t say that.”

  “I have to, because I don't know when I’ll see you again. With that in mind, I should speak my peace.” He leaned in fractionally, murmuring, “I’ve never met a woman like you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m not completely green where ladies are concerned, but none have ever gotten under my skin like this.”

  “I don’t want to hear—”

  “What I’m trying to say is that, if you’re not engaged to that man, maybe you wouldn’t object if I courted you. There’s a social on Friday. I’m not a good dancer, but I could try.”

  Hannah approached before I was able to reply. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hartsock.” She glanced at me. “It’s rather warm today, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was this about courting?” A grin played around the edges of her mouth. She had overheard part of our conversation. She pointed to me. “This woman has a beau. She’s all but spoken for.”

  “B-but I’m not engaged to him. What harm could come from attending a social?”

  “Oh, plenty,” she laughed. “If you’ve decided you’re no longer seeing Wesley, and you’ve explained this to him, then you are more than welcome to be courted by Ryan Hartsock…under strict supervision.”

  Chapter Nine

  The labor went on for hours after lunch, until I could barely hold my arms up. When we had finished for the day and returned to Fanny’s house, dinner was fried egg sandwiches and milk. Exhausted, I struggled to run a brush through my hair, as my arms were sore.

  A knock sounded on the door, Fanny peeking her head in. “You were all very helpful today, girls. Thank you.”

  “Did it work?” asked Mary. “I couldn’t tell if there was an improvement. The bugs seemed to jump to other stalks.”

  She sighed wearily. “Yes, they did. They’re digging trenches tomorrow.”

  “I think I prefer school,” said Susanna, who had crawled beneath the covers, peering over the edge of the blanket. “I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I’d rather do arithmetic than farm. I’m most eager to work word problems now.”

  Laughter filled the room. “Goodness, is that so?” Fanny’s eyes sparkled. “What a revelation. Unfortunately, we’ve another day to help the Weavers, and then we’ll see what happens. So far, our field seems fine. The pests haven’t come here, but we don’t have a farm the size of Hannah’s.”

  “Dig trenches?” I asked, feeling a sense of dread. “Will we all dig?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll do what we can.” Thomas’ cries resounded in the hallway. “I have to put him to bed. I’ll wake you up a little later tomorrow. We could use the sleep.”

  “Goodnight,” said Mary.

  “Goodnight, and say your prayers.”

  “Sleep well,” I murmured.

  After I slid beneath the sheets, sleep came easily, as I was bone weary and utterly depleted. In the morning, I washed hastily with tepid water and dressed, determined to find the time to braid my hair and wind it into a secure bun. A good deal of it had come loose yesterday, and it had been annoying. In the kitchen, Thomas sat at the table eating tiny portions of ham and bacon, while Fanny made Griddle-Cakes.

  “Is there coffee?”

  “If you make it.”

  “I will.” The kitchen was messy from the night before, and I doubted we would have time to tidy it before we left. “What if they lose their crop?”

  “One season won’t ruin them, but it’ll hurt.”

  “Our corn and wheat might just survive.”

  “So far, so good. Jack’s checking things right now. He was hoping the pests wouldn’t come this way. They seem to swarm in groups.” She wiped her hands on an apron. “Tarnation, what a muddle. We’ve seen such calamity in recent years. The war, the fire, the floods, and now this.”

  “I prayed that things would get better.”

  She scooped out the Griddle-Cakes, placing them on a plate. “This latest disaster will ruin quite a few people. Paulina and Samuel will be fine and so will Hannah and Nathan, but others were worse off to start with. They came here after the war with little, and now this.”

  “I should pray for them too.”

  “Can you call your brothers and sisters? It’s time to eat.”

  “I will.”

  It was sobering to see Fanny so defeated. Yesterday, we had thought our efforts might be successful, if we could beat away the pests, but it hadn’t worked. Now, the stark reality of an entire season of ruined crops sat heavily upon everyone’s shoulders, as we would all bear the burden.

  Once we had eaten and scrambled onto the wagon, Jack brought out several shovels, some of which were no larger than hand trowels. The beauty of the morning was not lost on me, as we ambled towards our destination amidst the meandering hills of grass. The mountains in the distance stood watch, the peaks jutting up to the heavens. Yellow sunflower like weeds brought color to the prairie, adding to the beauty of what would be a perfect morning, if it weren’t for the invading grasshoppers.

  At Hannah and Nathan’s, the fields were awash with activity. The trench digging had already begun, and one had to wonder how early Nathan had been up. Ryan was among them, stooped over and digging.

  Hannah approached, carrying Charles. “Good morning.”

  “Is there any improvement?” asked Jack.

  “Not much.” The elder Hoffmans were on the porch with Paulina and Louisa’s children. “If this doesn’t work, then we’re finished.”

  “I’m sorry, Hannah.” Fanny climbed down from the seat, with Thomas in her arms. “Maybe the smoke from the coal tar will ward them off.”

  “We have to try. Nathan went to town this morning to buy a few barrels. Other farmers are having similar issues.”

  Susanna and Mary stepped to the ground, while Peter and Connor ran towards where Louisa’s boys were. Being nearly the same age, they had gotten on well yesterday, beating away the grasshoppers while chatting happily. The boys were stronger and far more energetic. They looked upon this as a sport, by counting the number of bugs they had killed the day before. As of this morning, Oscar was in the lead with a hundred and forty-four.

  While Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman minded the younger children, the digging began. Mercifully, the soil wasn’t packed tight, as it had been tilled earlier in the season. The trenches bordered the perimeter, with several running in-between the stalks. The younger ones used the hand trowels, while Mary and I and Susanna held shovels. My arms ached from waving the flail around all day yesterday, and now I experienced a different type of agony. After the first hour, my wrists stung, and my shoulders throbbed.

  By mid-morning, whilst we were occupied with our digging, a strange sort of roar filled the air, followed by what looked like snowflakes falling. My heart sank. It was the flutter of thousands of grasshopper wings; their approach was almost deafening. As they descended, Susanna screamed, d
ropping her shovel and running. I lowered my head to avoid having them in my face. They landed on my back and shoulders. Knowing that I was covered in bugs, I tried to keep calm, brushing as many off as I could.

  “Heaven’s to Betsy!” cried Paulina, who slapped the grasshoppers from her arms. “How disgusting!”

  “As if the first wave wasn’t bad enough,” muttered Hannah. “I’m not sure we can recover from this.”

  “Keep digging!” shouted Nathan. “We’re lighting this ditch in a minute.”

  “Gosh, I hope this works,” I said, craning my neck to witness Nathan dumping what looked like black sludge into the ground. Ryan and the other ranch hands dunked buckets into the barrel, tossing the smelly tar into the ditches.

  Once the coal tar had been lit, a grayish, noxious smoke filled the air. “Oh, dear,” said Fanny. “What a smell.”

  We labored under even worse conditions now. First there had been the bugs, the heat, and now the stench of coal tar filled our lungs. Once I had completed my ditch, I stood back while Nathan poured the sloppy, sticky, black fluid, which sloshed over the edge of the bucket. He lit it by striking flint to steel, the spark igniting the highly flammable material. A grayish pall hung over the cornfield, while the workers carried their shovels to the neighboring wheat field to perform the same task there.

  I grasped the handle of my shovel, feeling the effects of exhaustion acutely. How I would go on for several more hours was beyond me. I longed for water and something to sit on, just to rest my bones for a few minutes, but time was of the essence, and everyone had gone ahead. The filth on my dress was something to ponder later, yet thankfully I had chosen a work garment, rather than something new and pretty. The long skirts with petticoats beneath dragged on behind me, while my booted feet sank into the earth.

  “Jane!” a male voice shouted. “Jane!” Ryan raced towards me, which was odd. He’d not said one word to me today, and I had desperately tried not to think about him. “Your dress!”

  “What?”

  “It’s on fire!”