An Unexpected Annulment (The Colorado Brides Series Book 3) (5 page)

“I’d say that was a successful prayer, Annie.”

“It was?”

“Yes.”

She settled under the sheet. “I really like you, Ms. Louisa. You’re a very nice lady.”

“Thank you, Annie.”

“You look like my ma.”

“What?”

“You look a lot like my ma. She had brown eyes and the same hair color.”

“I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Me too. Nothin’s been the same since she passed.”

These children had been through so much in their short lives. It saddened me to think how much they had suffered. It put my marriage and the annulment into perspective. What happened to me was nothing compared to the wealth of misery I’d seen here.

Chapter Four

My responsibilities had suddenly grown. Not only was I busy preparing the schedule for the new school year, but I now had three very feisty children to manage, and that was a tall order. Nathan and Jerry took the boys to the fields to work most mornings, which left Annie at the house with me. I set her to work gathering eggs from the henhouse, which she loved doing, as there were chicks in the pen. She took her time gathering the eggs, picking up each yellow, fuzzy chick and talking to it. When that chore was completed, I let her sweep the kitchen, which was always dusty from when the boys came in with dirt on their shoes.

Hannah and I had gone shopping for clothes, finding many second hand items at the mercantile. Some were too big, but Maria and I were able to take the pants in. The boys wore leather shoes, while Annie had a pair of sandals on her feet. They would need winter clothes soon enough, but these would have to do for now.

Paulina had stopped by one morning with Laura, who was a child that had belonged to a couple she had known on the Oregon Trail. They had passed away from cholera. She had tried to find a relative who would take the girl in, but they had been unsuccessful thus far. Paulina loved that baby. It would devastate her, if someone ever came forward to claim her.

“You people astonish me,” she said.

I was in the kitchen with Hannah, while Maria made lunch. I’d been working on making a cloth doll for Annie, and she watched me intently, as I sewed. I’d ask for her help soon enough, when it came time to attach the buttons for the little dress I had made.

“And why would that be?” Hannah held Letty, as the baby nursed.

“How can you stand all the noise? Those boys! My goodness.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I think I’m oblivious now, honestly. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“They are loud, aren’t they?”

“Do they settle at night?”

“Mostly,” I said.

“Ms. Louisa, that’s coming along real nice.” Annie eyed the doll.

“You think so?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

We had been working on manners lately, and our efforts had begun to pay off. “What shall we do for her hair? Straw or yarn?”

“Yarn is softer.”

“It is.”

“And you’re so good with her, Louisa,” said Paulina.

“It’s easy.” I glanced at Annie. “You would know.” Laura began to fuss, wanting to be let down to walk. She spied the cat in the corner of the kitchen, her hands flailing excitedly. “You go after her, but she’ll run away.”

“That’s not the friendliest cat,” said Hannah. “You can call George. He’ll come in and lick you silly.”

Paulina grinned. “Just look at us. Did you ever think we’d be women of the Wild West? Did you ever think you’d be a homesteader’s wife?”

“Me?” asked Hannah. “I was supposed to be a preacher’s wife. Now I’m married to a scoundrel of the first order…but I love him.”

Paulina and her husband, Samuel, had a crop coming in soon as well. Nathan and Jerry had helped them prepare the land in late spring. They’d settled a few miles away on property that had been available. Far too many settlers had been gaining possession of land and then handing it over to rich men who paid their wages, which was not how the homesteading laws were intended to work. But, wherever there was opportunity, corruption seemed to thrive.

“I’ll not be a homesteader’s wife,” I said. “I’ll not be anyone’s wife.”

“I’m sure once the right man comes along, you’ll change your mind about that,” said Paulina.

“I doubt it.” As the doll neared completion, Annie grew more and more excited. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. When I had attached the last of the hair. I held it up. “It needs some buttons.”

“For the dress?”

“Yes. You’re going to learn how to sew the buttons. I’ll show you.”

“Won’t I poke my finger and bleed?”

“You might, but that’s how you learn to be more careful.”

“I like how you made her eyes.”

“Thank you.” I had outlined them with black thread, creating eyelashes that went all the way around. Then I had sewn on blue thread for the irises. “I must say; this turned out well.”

“You’re very good with children,” commented Paulina. “You really need to reverse your decision not to marry. You’d make a wonderful mother.”

“Bosh. I’m plenty happy helping others with theirs. When I start teaching, I’ll be far too busy for such things.”

“Pastor Bailey isn’t married,” said Paulina. “He’s a handsome fellow.”

“No, not Pastor Bailey,” said Hannah. “I’ve got my eye on Vernon Marshall for her. He’s Adaline’s brother. He’s a banker. I have it on good authority that he’s rich.”

“Don’t bother. I’m not interested in the least.” My sisters exchanged a glance, and I couldn’t help feeling that they were planning something. “Whatever you have up your sleeve, stop it now.”

Hannah placed Letty over her shoulder, patting her back. She smiled innocently. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Me either.” Paulina got to her feet, which was a bit of effort considering how pregnant she was. “Oh, no, honey.” She snatched Laura off the floor before she could touch the stove. “That’s very hot. Very hot. It’ll hurt you.”

Maria turned towards us, holding a spatula. “Lunch is ready now.”

“Oh, I’m starved,” said Annie, looking wide-eyed at the food. “I can’t wait.” She sat expectantly, while we laughed, finding her utterly charming.

Now that the house was filled with children, there was always something happening. Hugh let the pigs out again. As a consequence, he had to stand in the corner with his nose pressed against the wall for ten minutes. Jerry taught the boys how to ride horses, which they adored, spending hours in the saddle. Then there were smudgy fingerprints left on the furniture and walls, which I wiped clean several times a day. Dinnertime was always a noisy affair, with talking, laughing, and the occasional disagreement. The boys remained difficult to manage, as they were used to running wild. Annie had settled in nicely, carrying her doll with her wherever she went, although her brothers had stolen it from her the other day, ripping the arms off, while she had cried inconsolably. I was able to reattach them, and the boys had been punished, having to sweep out the stalls for the afternoon.

Nathan and I arranged a time in the morning where I would sit with the children, going over reading and writing, along with arithmetic. I was astounded to discover that the boys knew how to read. Oscar had said, “We’ve had schoolin’, when Ma was alive. Annie’s never been. That’s why she’s so stupid.”

“Your sister isn’t stupid, Oscar. She can learn to read just fine. I’ll teach her.”

“Nah, she’s pretty dumb, Ms. Louisa,” said Hugh, his expression earnest.

“I’ll not tolerate name calling. Do you want to stand in the corner again? You’ve been there for two days in a row now. It’s not polite to call someone stupid.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to stand in the corner.”

“Will you try to be nicer to your sister?”

“I can’t make any promises, Ms. Louisa.”

I closed my eyes, praying for patience. “Fine. I’ll teach her how to read, and then you’ll have no reason whatsoever to call her names.”

“Good luck with that,” murmured Oscar.

“I’m going to make you both read and answer some questions. I want neat penmanship, you hear? No chicken scribbles. I have to be able to read it.” Their faces fell. “You can write, can’t you?”

“I’m not so good at writing,” said Hugh.

“Then that’s something we’ll work on.”

While Annie and I practiced the alphabet on large flashcards, the boys struggled with writing. Their penmanship was disastrous. They were able to read, but they could comprehend little of what it meant.

After a long, hard day of work, I would read to them in the parlor, while Hannah and Nathan listened. The books I brought with me had come in handy, and I was grateful that I had “Moby Dick” and the adventurous “Last of The Mohicans,” by James Fenimore Cooper. The boys had taken off into the yard the next day, acting out the scenes; Hugh was Hawkeye, while Oscar was the villain Magua. The small amount of schooling seemed to make a tremendous difference in their behavior. They were able to channel their energies more creatively, playing with a greater degree of intelligence, instead of pounding rocks to pieces by the creek.

The boys loved horseback riding, and they went on frequent jaunts with Jerry and Nathan, taking off for afternoon excursions on Sundays. We enjoyed a picnic by a lake the following Sunday, the children jumping in the water, although it was freezing. I was fearful that Annie would drown, but her brothers watched out for her. These small improvements in their behavior gave me hope that they had matured enough to be kind little boys, instead of feral children. It was a joy sitting on blankets, watching while they played. Letty was with us, on her back in the sun. The baby was only beginning to roll over, as she was still so little. George charged into the water, running after a stick Nathan had thrown. When he emerged, the stick was between his teeth, and he shook himself off, water flying into the air. The boys took turns throwing the stick, while the dog happily fetched it.

Nathan lay next to his wife, his arm across her belly. It was heartwarming seeing them like this, affection gleaming from their expressions when they gazed at each other. I’d felt a ping of jealousy or two, being in their company, but I’d rather be alone than with someone I could not trust. Even after a lengthy engagement, it was possible not to know who you had married, as was my case. I had distrusted Nathan when I had first met him, fearing that he was a libertine. No one that handsome could possibly be committed to only one woman, but that had been a pessimistic viewpoint, for which I was now ashamed.

When we returned to the house, the children were exhausted, heading for their beds. I encountered Nathan in the hallway. “I should apologize to you.”

He turned to me. “For what?”

“For judging you.”

His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“When I first came here. I thought you’d be a drunkard and a gambler.”

A surprisingly large smile appeared on his face. “Is that so? You must’ve read an awful lot of Hannah’s earlier letters, eh?”

“She did mention it.”

“I haven’t been to a saloon in a good spell. You’re givin’ me some ideas.”

“Be serious, Nathan.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not,” I laughed. “You’re always teasing.”

“If you can’t laugh at life, what’s the point?”

“I know. I just wanted to apologize.”

“No need to.”

“But you’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’ve helped me with the boys, and that’s been no easy feat. I’ve caused you quite a bit of trouble. I do have to apologize.”

“Then fine, I’ll accept that.” The sound of a carriage caught our attention. “It’s a bit late. Wonder who that is?”

“I have no idea.” We went to the door, as a wagon stopped before the house. I recognized the driver immediately. Mr. Montgomery stepped down from the conveyance, his face unshaven. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and wrinkled trousers. “Oh, no.”

“I’ll take care of this.” Nathan opened the door, stepping out onto the porch. “Good evenin’, Matt. How are you?”

“I’ve been told my children are here.”

“Yes they are.”

“I’ve come to get ‘em.”

Hannah was behind me. “Is that the father?” she whispered, sounding alarmed. “What on earth will we do?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“Did you know that Sally let Howard Granger beat the tar out of them? You should’ve seen the bruise on Annie’s face.”

“I didn’t know that. I was told you took my children.”

Nathan’s hands went to his hips. “I’d do it again too, if I ever hear they’re being harmed. I got a few choice words for you, Matt, that the ladies probably wouldn’t be too happy about.”

He removed his hat, his expression was stern, yet there was remorse. “I hired Sally to watch them. She’s had ‘em before without incident. I’m mighty sorry harm came to them. This is the first I’m hearin’ about it.”

“Are you really sorry or are you drunk?”

“I…am sorry.” He looked grieved.

“Do you care at all about those kids? They wander around half-starved, half-naked, and feral. They got no schoolin’ to speak of—”

“That’s not true! When Abigal was alive they went to school. Oscar and Hugh can read.”

“But not Annie. I understand you’re grievin’, Matt, but somethin’s gotta be done about those kids. I can’t let them go with you, unless I get some kind of guarantee that they’ll be fed and treated decently. I’m puttin’ my foot down on this one.”

He looked contrite. “I went mining to make a new start. I got some gold, and I’ve got plans for a business. I…put the whiskey down, Nathan. I don’t want it no more.”

“Well, you do look sober.”

“I’m awfully sorry for what my children have been through. I was outta my mind for a while. It was a shock to come back and they were gone. Sally said they’d come here. I only paid her half what I owe her, on account that she didn’t take care of ‘em like she said she would.”

“No she didn’t. If it weren’t for Louisa Hoffman, those kids would’ve probably ended up dead, Matt. That woman’s been their savior. She’s been feedin’ them for a while, even before you went away.”

His head hung, messy strands falling in his face. “They’re all I have left. I swore to do better. I will do better.”