Instant Prairie Family (Love Inspired Historical)
Read Instant Prairie Family (Love Inspired Historical) Online
Authors: Bonnie Navarro
He can’t let her stay
Will Hopkins’s new housekeeper is the prettiest young woman
he’s ever seen—and that’s the problem. Will thought Abigail Stewart would be a
middle-aged matron well suited to hardscrabble prairie life. Even if his young
sons are entranced by her wholesome kindness, his only option is to send Abby
back east. For the sake of propriety...and his guarded heart.
Answering the newspaper advertisement was Abby’s chance of
escape from her unhappy home. But now her employer has turned out to be a rugged
widower
instead of a widow. A marriage in name
only will allow her to remain long enough to find another job. Or until a
misunderstanding becomes the means to a second-chance family....
“I... What did you say your surname was?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Hopkins,” Will replied. The girl’s face went deathly white.
She pulled her satchel up onto her lap and started sorting through her things. Finally she pulled out a paper and handed it to him. It was the ad his mother had created to find him a housekeeper. The ad Miss Stewart had answered. But did that mean... No, it couldn’t be. The woman in front of him, who looked as if she might give in to tears at any moment,
couldn’t
be Abigail Stewart.
“You’re...you’re Miss Stewart?” Will said incredulously.
Tommy poked his brother. “She’s our new house?”
“House
keeper,
” Willy hissed.
She straightened her back and tilted her chin up to look the boys’ father straight in the eye. “Yes.”
Any answer Will might have given was interrupted by Tommy’s response. Throwing his arms around the woman’s waist, he squeezed tight while yelling out, “You’re our Auntie House!”
BONNIE NAVARRO
and her husband of nineteen years reside in Warrenville, Illinois. Their four children range in age from seventeen to eleven. She works as a medical interpreter at a hospital and a teacher’s aide in a middle school. She and her family attend a Spanish-speaking church, and everyone in the household is at least bilingual—including the dog! Bonnie attended Moody Bible Institute. While attempting to earn a degree in Bible theology, she successfully earned her MRS. degree, followed a year later by her MOM degree, thus ending her formal studies. She is a member of Voices, part of MyBookTherapy. Bonnie’s hobbies include reading, writing, knitting and hanging out with her family.
Bonnie Navarro
Instant Prairie Family
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you
and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call
on
me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.”
—Jeremiah
29:11, 12
My deepest thanks are due to my Savior and Lord. May He receive all the glory for any thing
I might ever accomplish.
I would be remiss if I didn’t give thanks
and honorable mention to:
Joanne, I blame you for empowering me
to believe that I could write a story someone else would actually want to read. You said someday you’d see me in print. Thanks for believing in me even when I wasn’t so convinced.
Betty, Dad, Martha and Terry.
You all took your time to read
and suggest corrections
on
different manuscripts.
I learned some
thing from each one of you.
Cesar, Liz, CJ, Gaby and David—
thank you for letting Mom work on her book even when you wanted dinner/to talk/clean clothes....
I love you guys!
There are so many more who have helped me
on my journey to write—to each of you,
thank you and God bless.
Chapter One
Harlan County, Nebraska, 1881
W
ill scooped up six-year-old Tommy and
called to Willy over his shoulder, “It’s time to go, son. The wagon is hitched
and we need to leave so that we can get to the river before nightfall.” Will had
left detailed instructions with Jake, his nephew, about the care of the
livestock and what Jake should be doing in the next three days. Now everything
was ready for them to leave—everything except his oldest son. Willy had dragged
his feet all morning, and Will was quickly losing his patience with his
namesake.
“Are we going to go get the new Auntie Shelia?” Tommy asked,
his little face full of excitement. His eyes were the same color as Caroline’s
had been—an expressive hazel that changed hues with her mood. Did the boy
actually remember Auntie Shelia? No, that was impossible. Tommy was only three
when Auntie Shelia had come to stay with them after her niece Caroline’s death.
She stayed six months before she declared the West “too dangerous and
uncivilized for anyone to hope to raise a respectable family.”
“No, Tommy, not another aunt. She’s our new housekeeper,” Will
corrected gently, trying to find the right words to explain. “Miss Stewart is
coming to do the cooking and cleaning and help you and your brother with your
studies. She will be like a grandmother to you but isn’t related to you. She’ll
be our housekeeper. Do you understand?”
Will glanced out of the window impatiently, aware of the sun
rising high in the horizon. It must be close to nine and they had a full day’s
ride to get to the river before dark. From the river it was only a little more
than a two-hour ride and they would be in Twin Oaks with time to get cleaned up
well before the train arrived tomorrow at noon.
Miss Stewart was due in on that train and he needed to be
there. It wouldn’t do to have his new housekeeper step off into the small
prairie town and not have the family there to extend their welcome.
Will hadn’t been all that set on the idea of bringing in a
housekeeper when his mother had suggested it, but after several letters back and
forth, he’d become convinced Miss Stewart was the perfect woman for the job. She
was only one of a few dozen women who had replied to the ad his mother had
placed in the
Christian Ladies’ Journal
who seemed
to want the job for the right reasons. Most of the others were only thinly
veiled attempts to trap a husband. Miss Stewart wrote that she was ready to move
on from her sister’s home where she had lived for years, and that she wanted to
settle in with a family who loved the Lord and where she could put her education
and her gifts of cooking and cleaning to use.
Instead of answering his father, the boy yelled to his brother,
leaving Will nearly deaf, “Hurry, we’re going to go get our new house.”
“Not
house,
Tommy,” Willy
snickered, finally sauntering down the stairs. At age nine he felt he knew all
there was to know about life and delighted in informing his little brother. “Our
new
housekeeper.
She’ll probably take one look at
this mess and make Pa take her right back to the train station.” He sounded
almost hopeful. Willy was right about one thing—their house wasn’t likely to
make a good impression. He and the boys would have to do their best to make up
for that.
“Hey, that’s enough. Now both of you head out to the wagon,”
Will ordered, setting Tommy back on the ground and glancing around his kitchen.
The place had become messier as time went on. He had a bad habit of burning the
oatmeal, and two skillets sat soaking in the sink were reminders of his lack in
the culinary arts. One more thing Will had included in his instructions to
Jake—make the place somewhat presentable before they arrived with the new
housekeeper.
Will imagined a woman his mother’s age. From what he had read
in her letters, her character seemed to be above reproach, and that was his main
interest—that, and how well she cooked. Hopefully Miss Stewart could teach his
boys some table manners, as well.
Finally, Will and the boys were in the wagon, moving along
toward the river. The sky seemed so big and far above the earth and stretched
out in all directions without any hindrance. The prairie plants, just having
started to grow again after the winter, danced at knee level and waved on the
breeze that kept the sun from completely baking both man and beast. Will was
grateful for his hat. There were no trees to offer shade on the large expanse of
prairie until they came closer to the river.
As he drove, he took in the breathtaking scenery. His thoughts
turned to how majestic God was, having formed all this with just a word. Will
didn’t need to be in church to be awestruck by God. Creation was enough to hold
him spellbound and speechless. The boys asked questions and he took advantage of
those opportunities to show them God’s handiwork.
After a full day’s drive and a good night’s sleep by the river,
Will headed into town, glad to be almost at his destination. He couldn’t help
but be impressed by the way the small town of Twin Oaks had grown from just five
houses in the middle of nothing a few years ago to a small but bustling village.
New settlers seemed to be arriving all the time. People were still taking
advantage of the Homestead Act that President Lincoln had signed back in 1862.
The same law Will and Mathew had taken advantage of ten years ago. Will found a
spot in the shade of the train depot and tethered the horses to the hitching
post.
Their first stop once they were in town was the barber. He
wanted to impress Miss Stewart—not scare her off. The boys had not had a haircut
in more than a year. He hadn’t been very vigilant about combing out the snarls,
either. Once everyone looked civilized again, the barber offered them each a
piece of hard candy from a jar on his countertop.
Main Street was crowded—plenty of people waiting for goods and
travelers off the incoming train. Back out on the street, he headed the boys
toward the mercantile. Glancing at his pocket watch, he assured himself there
was still time to pick up supplies before he needed to meet the train.
Afterward, he could take the new housekeeper and his boys to lunch at the one
and only hotel in Twin Oaks.
Standing in the doorway of the store brought back memories of
his father’s store back in Philadelphia with all its sights and sounds. His
throat tightened and he was surprised as a wave of nostalgia caught him
unexpectedly. He took in the sight of wares stacked on wooden shelving and in
barrels on the floor. Would his boys ever see his father’s store?
Pushing aside his sudden homesickness, he set to work,
choosing supplies. Warning Tommy and Willy not to touch anything, he let them
wander around to look at the toys and gadgets on display. Meanwhile, he bought
some coffee, sugar and a few other cooking items women used to buy at his
father’s store. He didn’t even know how to use most of them but figured maybe
Miss Stewart would. He hadn’t savored homemade baking since Mathew’s wife,
MaryAnn, had died. It would be a treat just to have someone who knew their way
around a kitchen again. He would ask the new housekeeper if she had ever made
raisin bread or bread pudding….
He picked up the small crate of raisins and made his final
selections. At the counter, he greeted Josh, the owner.
“Good to see you again,” Josh said, tallying up the purchases
on a piece of paper and then entering the figure in his ledger. “I haven’t seen
you since you brought in your wheat last fall.”
“Yeah. I like to stock up when I get out. It’s more than a
day’s trip out and I wouldn’t risk it in the winter,” Will rejoined. He wasn’t
really in the mood to chat, but he didn’t want to seem rude, either. “Town seems
to be growing.”
“It is. We’re getting more people every year. Are you going to
be staying in town overnight or are you headed back?”
“We’ll be headed back.” Will was used to keeping his life to
himself, but Tommy had other ideas.
“We gotta take our auntie House back to our farm,” the little
tyke explained in his mixed-up way. The shopkeeper blinked at Tommy and
scratched his head, but Tommy continued on without a break. “She’s gonna be a
grandma to me and keep the house nice. She’s even gonna teach us stuff like how
to be gent’men. She’s gonna be really nice—not like our other auntie, who was
mean and yelled all the time….”
“Tommy.” Will was surprised at the last statement. Tommy
couldn’t possibly remember his great-aunt. He must have been parroting something
he heard from his older brother, or his cousin. But, no, it wasn’t likely Jake
had said anything—the teenager wasn’t the type to tell tales. If anything, Will
wished he was more in the habit of speaking up for himself. Willy, like his
brother, had no such problem.
What did Willy remember of his great-aunt? Will had been too
busy trying to keep the farm afloat to pay much attention to how the woman
treated the children. He was going to have to do a better job this time. He
wanted his boys educated but not at the cost of their being mistreated.
Once again, doubts assailed him—was he doing the right thing by
letting a total stranger into his home? Maybe he and Jake could handle the boys
on their own. But he’d given Miss Stewart his word, and she had packed up her
whole life to come out to Nebraska. He had to at least give her a chance. Maybe
he could let her stay for a few weeks while he watched how the boys reacted to
her. Meanwhile, he’d pray about sending her back or having her stay. She might
decide Nebraska wasn’t right for her after all. She’d hardly be the first to
feel that way. In the meantime, there was no sense in borrowing trouble.
After all, he had been praying for this since last spring. God
directed Miss Stewart to answer his ad and she would be arriving within the
hour. Obviously God’s hand moved in this and had sent her here. Tommy and Willy
needed a woman’s influence in their upbringing.
With that thought in mind, he prayed for wisdom and headed the
boys out of the mercantile and off to the train station. The sound of the
locomotive whispered on the wind as it came closer to town. Its whistle
announced its approach before it even came into view. In just a few minutes,
Miss Stewart would step off the train, and Will would see how right he’d been to
bring her to Nebraska.
* * *
Within a few minutes, Abigail Stewart would be arriving
in the town that was to be her new home.
The prairie looked so different from the rolling hills of Ohio
that had been her only home for all of her twenty-six years. Nebraska felt as if
someone had taken a huge rolling pin and flattened everything, leaving only
waving grasses and flowers. Even the trees were missing. But the colors were
vibrant as Abby watched the world pass by, and she couldn’t help hoping that
they symbolized a bright, happy new life she’d have with the widowed Mrs.
Hopkins and her children, free from Abby’s domineering sister and her
brother-in-law’s inappropriate attentions.
How would she be able to recognize Mrs. Hopkins? She had never
asked for a description before. She’d just assumed that she would be able to see
something in the woman’s eyes that would match the gentle spirit and spunk Abby
inferred from her letters. Now she wished she’d asked for more details.
Abby glanced around the stuffy passenger compartment at the
other passengers traveling with her these last few days. The loud Erving family
spread throughout the car. Watching them, Abby couldn’t help wondering what her
own nieces, Megan and Hanna, were going to do now without Abby there to
encourage them. They were beautiful girls, almost on the brink of womanhood.
Would suitors begin to call on them soon? What sort of lives would they end up
leading? And the rest? How would Harold get his studies done with Peter always
bothering him? Would little Katie even remember Auntie Abby? The girls had
promised to keep in touch, and Abby knew she would cherish their letters and the
news they would share. She only hoped she’d have lots of good tidings to share
by return post about her new home and the family she hoped would accept her as
one of their own.
As the conductor opened the door to the car and called out,
“Twin Oaks, Nebraska. Next stop,” Abby stuck her knitting into her satchel. She
checked under her seat, pulled her satchel strap up over her shoulder and hugged
it close. It held her letters, coin purse and knitting. Her heart sped up as she
saw the town come into view. It was small and somewhat rough, as Mrs. Hopkins
had warned her, but it looked fresh and exciting to Abby as she hoped that maybe
she would find a place to belong to here.
As the train bounced and lurched to a stop, Abby tried to stand
and found herself tossed against the conductor. Mr. Galvan had proved to be
kind, making the trip as comfortable as possible for everyone. He regaled them
with stories about other trips and the fascinating people he’d met over the past
three years working for the railroad. The stories were a little marred by the
man’s terrible memory for names, but were very entertaining all the same.
“Careful,” he chuckled, “you don’t want to get banged up right
before you meet Mrs. Hooper.”
“Mrs. Hopkins,” Abby corrected softly, “and thank you for all
your help.”
“It’s been a pleasure to assist you on your trip. If you ever
need anything, you can always leave word with the train station. Maybe I’ll look
you up in a few months...see how you’re faring with Mrs. Hoskills.”
“Mrs. Hopkins,” Abby corrected for a second time.
“Twin Oaks!” Mr. Galvan’s voice boomed, cutting off their
conversation. He moved past her and stepped to the door of the car so that he
could assist the passengers while they disembarked.
Abby clutched the seat in front of her, waiting until the last
lurch of the train, and then followed the rest of the passengers to the door.
She wasn’t sure if it was the jerky motion of the locomotive or—more likely—the
nerves of meeting Mrs. Hopkins and embarking on this new adventure that had her
stomach twisting. What a first impression that would make—to get sick just as
she stepped off the train.