New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  It was the crack of dawn. The rooster had just crowed, and the faintest light crept in through the curtains.

  All of a sudden, there was a rap on Grace’s door.

  “Yes?” Grace called out groggily.

  “Rise and shine,” Mrs. Stevens, Charles’s mother, called back. “It’s dawn now, and Charles still plans to put in a full work day. So get up and ready yourself. He’ll want to leave for town right away.”

  Grace had met Mrs. Stevens the night before, when Charles brought her back to their homestead. The two women only chatted briefly, just long enough for Mrs. Stevens to get a handle on the situation and get a feel for their unexpected guest. In any event, they got along quite well, and Mrs. Stevens was happy to help Grace and put her up for the night. But, now that it was morning, she seemed to want to get rid of her.

  Grace picked up on the cues and got out of bed. She got herself together and gathered her things. Then, she left her bedroom. Once she was out in the hallway, she hesitated for a moment and glanced down both ends of the hallway. It’d been dark when she got there last night, and she hadn’t seen much of her surroundings then.

  As she glanced to the far end of the hallway, to a door that led to what was probably another bedroom, Grace heard a sound come from the room. It was light and cheerful, like a puppy or bird. She stared at the door for a moment and was just about to walk toward it when Mrs. Stevens showed up beside her.

  “Here you go, dear,” the older woman said, holding out a paper bag. “I put some biscuits and other treats in here for you. There’s enough for you to eat something along the way and have a snack later.”

  Mrs. Stevens pushed the bag toward Grace and pulled at her arms ever so lightly. “Come along. Charles is already outside.”

  Grace felt very rushed. But, it was no bother. She’d never worked a day in her life, but she could understand how those who did, would want to stick to their schedule and limit delays and interruptions. She followed Mrs. Stevenson down the hallway and out of the house.

  Once she was outside, Grace found Charles waiting for her in his wagon. It was the first good look she’d had at him in daylight, and she liked what she saw. He was easy on the eyes, and he still looked warm, soft, and inviting.

  “Good morning,” Charles said. He got up and helped Grace load her suitcase onto the wagon, then helped her into the seat. “Sorry to rush you off so early,” he said, getting into the wagon as well. “But, ma’ farm aint’ gonna take care of itself, ya’ know.”

  Grace giggled at the playful way Charles had just spoken to her.

  “I supposed not,” she replied. “And, I completely understand. You’ve been very helpful, on the spur of the moment, and I appreciate everything you and your mother have done for me.”

  Charles smiled and nodded. Both his cheeks and his heart felt warm as he steered the horses away from his property toward town.

  A few minutes into their journey, the pair started talking. It started when Charles asked Grace about life back in New York.

  “I’ve always wanted to travel to the east coast,” Charles said after Grace told him how different New York was from Montana, “as well as to other places across the country… And, by God, one day, when the time is right, I will travel.”

  Grace felt a tickle in her tummy, which she initially attributed to hunger. She reached into the bag Mrs. Stevens gave her and pulled out a biscuit. But, even after she took a few big bites, that tickle was still there.

  “What about you?” Charles asked. “Is this your first trip outside of New York? Or, have you traveled before?”

  Though she may have lied about her name and the circumstances that brought her to Misty Mountain, Grace saw no reason to be dishonest here. “This actually is my first trip outside of New York,” she admitted. “But, I, too, have always yearned to travel… Though, up until this point, the furthest I’ve made it is to the places I’ve read about in books.”

  “Not true,” Charles chuckled. “You made it from New York to Montana, by train, not book, and you saw more of this country than I ever saw along the way. So, I’d say you’ve come pretty far, and you have a lot to be proud of.”

  Grace blushed and bowed her head. She didn’t know what to say. And, for the next minute or so, she said nothing—and neither did Charles. But, then, thankfully, he spoke up and changed the subject.

  “So, you like to read?” he asked. Grace looked up at him, smiled, and nodded. “Very much,” she answered.

  “Me too,” Charles smiled back. “I love reading dime novels… I get lost in the stories sometimes, and imagine I’m living them.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Grace giggled. “I love dime novels too… and poetry.”

  “I’m not very fond of poetry,” Charles sighed. “But, I’ll read most anything I come across. I figure there’s something to be learned from everything.”

  Wow, Grace thought to herself. Charles and I sure to have a lot in common, and he sure is a wonderful conversationalist. She felt comfortable, and reassured—and she knew, without doubt, she’d made the right decision in running away. She hadn’t known Charles half a day, but already, she felt more for him than she’d ever felt, or could feel, for Jim Jasper.

  Charles was also surprised by how much he and Grace had in common, and, but for a few bashful moments, on both their parts, he was amazed by how seamlessly they got along. He felt as if he was talking to someone he’d known for years.

  But, of course, the fact of the matter was, he hadn’t known her for years. And, as much as he enjoyed talking to her, he had to make sure their conversation also served a greater purpose. As he’d told her, he wanted to believe her explanation as per why she was on the Porter’s property, but he couldn’t simply take her word for it. He still had to be suspicious, and weary, of her, no matter how enchanting she was—and, he had to try to find out more about her.

  “So, when you left New York, I imagine you left your family,” Charles said, glancing at Grace and arching his eyebrows.

  “My mother died when I was 2,” Grace said, bowing her head mournfully. “I was an only child, and my father went on to raise me. He never remarried, and his heart grew cold over the years. He and I shared no real closeness anymore, and it didn’t pain me one bit to leave him.”

  Sure enough, Grace was being honest, even if she didn’t mention that her father was none other than the Mayor of New York. And, sure enough, Charles found her honesty moving. He could tell that, even though it didn’t pain her to leave her father, it pained her to talk about him. Her pain was sincere, and, despite his quest to learn more about her, he didn’t want her to feel it.

  “I guess I kind of do like poetry,” Charles said, abruptly changing the conversation again after a moment of silence, “but not in the conventional sense… I like music—and, I guess the words to songs can be considered poetry.”

  Grace’s cheeks felt full. She grinned from ear to ear.

  “I play the guitar, by the way,” Charles added.

  “You do?” Grace asked. Her eyes twinkled, and she felt that tickle in her tummy again.

  For the remainder of their journey to town, the pair went on to talk about music, hymns, church, and the Bible, and Charles told Grace many interesting things about Misty Mountain, Great Falls, and the townspeople. Grace continued to discover more and more she liked about Charles, and Charles learned enough about her to reinforce his beliefs that she was trustworthy and of good character.

  By the time they finally arrived in town, both Charles and Grace were a bit upset that their time together was over. Yet, both were also excited. When Rose and Henry returned, Grace would return to their property, which was just down the road from Henry’s; their paths would cross again.

  “Here we are,” Charles said, slowing his horses as they approached the hotel.

  “Thank you so much,” Grace replied. “Thank you for everything—for taking me in last night, bringing me here today, and entertaining me with conversation.”
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  Charles smiled and nodded. Then, Grace reached to her side and stuck her hand in her satchel. She’d paid for a ride from the train station to Misty Mountain the evening before; and, she was about to pay for lodging. If she was going to give others money for doing the same things Charles had just done, she figured it was only right to give him money too.

  But, as soon as Grace’s hand was inside her satchel, she gasped and jolted.

  “What’s wrong?” Charles asked, concerned.

  “My money,” she said, “it’s gone.”

  “What?!?!” Charles exclaimed, his face full of concern.

  “I… I… I must have been pick-pocketed,” Grace stuttered. She remembered the last time she’d accessed her money. It had been the evening before, when she paid for her transport. She remembered the way the driver—and some of the other passengers—looked at her, critically, for traveling alone. She remembered how cramped the wagon was, and how preoccupied she was gazing at her surroundings.

  “Oh dear,” Charles muttered, shaking his head.

  Without even realizing it, Grace had started to cry. She’d brought a lot of money with her, enough to take care of herself and afford her, and her friends, many comforts. But, now, all of it was gone, and she didn’t even have enough money to buy a single biscuit, let alone pay for a room at the hotel.

  “Everything will be alright,” Charles assured her. He flicked his wrists and spurred his horses back to movement.

  “What? Where are we going?” Grace asked as the horses picked up pace again.

  “We’re going back to my farm,” Charles answered. “You can stay there with us until Rose and Henry return.”

  “But, I can’t impose on you and your mother like that,” Grace replied. “And, I haven’t got any money to pay you either. I can’t—”

  “You’ve got no other options,” Charles interrupted. “You don’t have money to pay anyone for board, and you’re a stranger to everyone else in this town. I can’t turn my back on you right now—and, neither could my mother. You need help, and it is our Christian duty to help you.

  “And, if you’d like to repay us for that help, you can, even though you have no money. My farm is my business, and you can help with some chores… You’ll get a place to stay, and I’ll get free labor.”

  Grace didn’t know a thing about doing chores or “working,” but she knew that the situation she was in was dire. Charles was right. She didn’t have any other options. Plus, there was something about this particular option she found appealing.

  “Alright,” Grace sighed. She smiled and looked at Charles. But, as soon as their eyes met, he turned his gaze abruptly.

  “There’s one more thing,” Charles said, bowing his head. “It’s not just me and my mother on the farm. There’s someone else… Bonnie.”

  “Bonnie?” Grace asked.

  “Yes, Bonnie,” Charles replied without further comment.

  The tickle in Grace’s tummy disappeared and was replaced with a sour feeling. I should have known better, she thought to herself. She was surprised to discover that her heart ached. I should have figured he was married. He’s too good a man to still be single.

  EIGHT

  “She’s beautiful,” Grace said, staring at Bonnie.

  “Thank you,” Charles replied proudly.

  They were back at Charles’s farm, and they were sitting with Mrs. Stevens on the front porch, with Bonnie out in the yard in front of them.

  “And she sure is spirited,” Grace added.

  “You can say that again,” Mrs. Stevens laughed. “But, I guess we all were at that age.”

  On their ride back to the farm, much to her surprise, and relief, Grace learned that Bonnie was Charles’s 4-year-old daughter. His wife, Clair, had taken ill and passed just several months after she was born; and, that’s when Mrs. Stevens came to live with Charles, to help him raise Bonnie. Charles told Grace he hadn’t mentioned Bonnie earlier so as not to drag her into an uncertain, unnecessary situation. Of course, Grace understood his reasoning.

  “But, now that you’ll be staying with us until our friends get back, you’ll get to meet her,” Charles told her back on the wagon. “And, trust me, you’re gonna love her.”

  Indeed, Charles was right, and the moment Grace saw young Bonnie, she felt the love for her that all good-heart Christian men and women feel for children. And, what’s more, she found this particular child particularly endearing. Though they were nearly 20 years apart in age, she could relate to the little girl, for they’d both lost their mothers. Lucky for Bonnie, she was blessed with a more compassionate father.

  “While Mother cares for Bonnie during the day, I work the land,” Charles explained. “I used to have a hired hand work with me, but he moved off to start his own farm a year or so ago, and I haven’t hired anyone else since then. The cost of good labor is going up. I can’t afford to pay it, and I refuse to pay anyone less than what they deserve.

  “But, for the next week or so, I won’t have to worry about that, now will I? I’ve got you to help me… So, what do you say we get started? I’ll go out and tend the crops, and you can go around and give water to the animals.”

  Grace nodded. On the outside, she looked confident. But, on the inside, she was a nervous wreck. The only animals she’d ever known were house pets and service horses.

  Charles stood up, tipped his head at the women, and headed off to his crops, and Grace reluctantly went around to the back of the property. Ah, she didn’t even know where to begin!

  There were two cows, three horses, and a pig back there. And, there was some type of small structure off to the side of their grazing area. Grace concluded that structure must have been where the buckets were kept, to safely store them.

  But, as soon as Grace opened the door to the small structure, she discovered she was quite wrong. No sooner than she tried to step in, two chickens flew straight at her.

  Grace recoiled away from the chicken coup and ran off toward the barn at the other end of the property. She looked around for a bucket and smiled when she found a metal pail. She picked up the pail and carried it off with her, in search of a water source.

  A few minutes later, while she was still searching, Charles came up upon her. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m looking for water to give to the animals,” she answered.

  Charles looked at her curiously. “That’s a milking pail in your hand,” he said, arching his eyebrows, “not a water bucket. The water bucket is by the spicket… at the back of the house.”

  “Oh,” Grace mumbled, bowing her head in embarrassment.

  “Come along, I’ll show you,” Charles responded. He reached out and took the pail from Grace’s hand, and, together, they returned it to the barn. Then, he took her to the back of the house, showed her where the spicket and bucket were, and showed her how to fill it.

  At first, he’d been shocked that she didn’t know how to handle such a simple chore. But, in the end, he was pleased by how willing she was to learn.

  But, then, of course, things took an unexpected turn for the worse. Just as Charles was about to praise Grace for her willingness, he felt a sharp, pricking pain on his lower leg, followed by another. He looked down to see what had caused it—and, lo and behold, he saw two of his chickens pecking at his calves.

  “Oh no!” Charles shouted. “The chickens have gotten out!... You didn’t leave the coup open, did you?”

  Charles looked at Grace. She was just about to answer, but the expression on her face spoke for her.

  “Go shut the coup!” Charles instructed. “I don’t want any more to get out. They’re my egg-bearers, and one of my greatest sources of income.”

  Charles ran off and started chasing his chickens, and Grace ran over to the coup and slammed the door shut just before another chicken could escape. She stood there, ashamed and confused, for what felt like forever, then went to chase the chickens as well.

  A short while later, after Ch
arles had collected all of his chickens and returned them to the coup, Grace apologized to him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you, coming from New York City, I’m not familiar with farm animals.”

  “I’m sorry,” Charles laughed. “I knew you came from New York City, so I should have known as much—or, at least asked what types of chores you preferred or were most skilled at… That said, would you like to continue on with some outdoor chores, or would you rather do more domestic chores inside?”

  Truth be told, Grace didn’t really want, or know how to do either. But, there was an opportunity before her. “I don’t know anything about farms,” Grace answered. “But, I’d at least like to learn more about the work before I dismissed it.”

  “What a pleasant outlook,” Charles smiled. “I’d love to teach you.”

  For the rest of the day, Charles took Grace around with him and showed her the farm and demonstrated some of the work necessary to maintain it. She willingly, eagerly listened to everything Charles said, watched him closely, and worked alongside him, and he was pleased with how quickly she learned, as well as with her company.

  At the end of their work day, on the way back to the house, with no chickens pecking at his legs, Charles told Grace he was impressed by all she had done and accomplished, and he said he had faith that she could work the land without further incident. Still a bit unsure of herself and exhausted from her first laborious workday ever, Grace blushed at his compliment. As much as she too, liked Charles’s company and wanted to continue working alongside him, she didn’t feel up to the outdoor challenge.

  “I think I’d rather try my hand at the indoor chores tomorrow,” she admitted.

  “Oh. Alright,” Charles answered, a bit let down.

  Back at the house, they went their separate ways and cleaned up for dinner. Then, they joined Mrs. Stevens and Bonnie in the dining room to feast on the wonderful meal Mrs. Stevens had prepared. And, feast they did! For the first time in her life, Grace realized how delicious and satisfying food tasted after a long day’s hard work.