might help settle your stomach, miss.” The matronly lady spoke softly, placing the cup and saucer in front of Abby. “Why don’t you try a few sips at a time? It’s chamomile—it always helps me feel better when I’ve had a rough day.” She smiled and patted her shoulder, reminding Abby of Mrs. Gibbons, the reverend’s wife from back home. Abby wished that she could let the older woman coddle her a bit more. She managed to keep the tea down and drank yet another cup before the boys became too restless.
She hoped it would be enough to give her strength for the trials that lay ahead.
* * *
What had he gotten himself into? Will wondered to himself for the hundredth time as he drove the wagon back toward the homestead. They’d stop tonight at the river. He and the boys could camp out under the stars and Miss Stewart could sleep in the wagon. Getting home and dropping her off at the Scotts’ house on the way would be the easy part.
The Miss Stewart he’d imagined had been a sturdy, solid woman who knew her own mind when she said she was unafraid of the challenges of prairie life. This beautiful, delicate girl was another matter altogether. For now she seemed determined to give the job a try, but how long would that last? How long would he have—weeks, maybe a month or two—before she realized that Nebraska was a place where no young woman could ever want to be?
There was no convincing her of that now, of course. She’d have to see it for herself. Until then, perhaps Miss Stewart could help Willy to be more sociable. Maybe she could train Tommy not to say just anything that came to mind—or maybe not. He hoped she could feed them something more substantial than what he normally managed to burn or leave half-raw. Maybe she could get some meat on their bones and make his house feel more like a home... Or maybe he’d just invited trouble to make itself comfortable at his dinner table.
Not that she would be that much trouble. She seemed well educated and her letters bespoke of a nice girl, but to have a beautiful, single, unattached woman out in the middle of the prairie full of single men, all looking to settle down and start families in a place few women would venture... He might just have opened the door to a whole lot more than a housekeeper. Since he employed her, he would be responsible for her safety and reputation, and he’d also have to ensure that she didn’t make any decisions she’d later regret. She seemed so set on not returning to Ohio that she might fall into marriage with one of the local men. He’d do everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen. She needed to be free to leave the prairie whenever she chose—the choice that Caroline had never had.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her shift around to look over the landscape. He studied her profile. What must she be thinking? Was she asking herself what she had just gotten herself into, as well? The wind had pulled tendrils of hair out from her pins and he was sure that if she hadn’t been so tired from her travels, she would have been trying to control the mass of corn silk better.
Stealing a glance at her sitting at his side on the wagon bench, he pondered how to explain their route. “Listen,” he started, trying to broach the subject, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Our homestead is not very close to Twin Oaks. In fact, it’s more than another six hours’ ride from here, so we’ll be stopping at the river to spend the night.”
He turned his eyes back to the road, feeling her stiffen next to him. Her words still echoed in his head, the way she had said that she wanted to “Go home... To have a place to go and lie down.” He would have let her stay at the hotel tonight and headed out at first light, but that would have meant he wouldn’t get her to the Scotts’ until late in the night and then it would be too late to get home. Jake would be on his own for five days. It was too much to ask the boy.
“I can sleep with the boys out under the sky and you can have the wagon all to yourself. I know it’s not the hotel or anything fancy, but by tomorrow night, you’ll be bedding down at the Scotts’ house. Mrs. Scotts will take real good care of you and make sure you get the rest you need after this long trip.”
The line of saplings and small trees at the edge of the river came into view. “See those trees?” He pointed to the horizon.
“Hmm.”
“That’s the river. We’ll be there in just a few more minutes.”
* * *
Once they had arrived at the river, he helped her down from the seat and held her upright until her legs stopped shaking and supported her weight. Acting the consummate gentleman, he didn’t even look angry. Abby couldn’t say if it was the fear of what her future held or the long ride that had her shaking so bad.
“Why don’t you walk around here by the wagon for a minute and get your land legs back? The boys and I will go and check that there’s nothing around to bother you and then you can freshen up down by the river.” His words were soft and she felt protected. Maybe her first impressions had been correct. He made her feel safe.
Within a few minutes, Tommy ran back to her. “We made lots of noise so no critters would come out and scare you, Auntie House.” She followed hesitantly, finding Mr. Hopkins and Willy in a small clearing with a sandy bank sloping into the river.
“We’ll go and set up camp now, Miss Stewart. You should be perfectly safe here. We’ll stay out of sight, but all you have to do is give a yell and we’ll come running,” the man reassured her as soon as she came into the clearing. As they left, she heard Tommy whine about having to wait for a swim, but she was glad they were gone for a minute. The water looked so cool and refreshing.
When Abby ventured back to camp afterward, she found a small tent erected and a fire started. The boys sat on both sides of Mr. Hopkins and were watching as he cooked some sort of meat.
“Hi, Auntie House,” Tommy called out, hopping up and running toward her. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes, thank you, Tommy. But can I ask you a favor?” she questioned, squatting down to be at eye level with the boy. His chest puffed out a little and he nodded solemnly. “Can you call me Auntie Abby?” Even as she asked, she glanced at Mr. Hopkins and cringed inwardly, wondering if it would be all right with him. “My nieces and nephews call me Auntie Abby and I’d feel better if you called me that instead of Auntie House.”
“Sure. You’re going to be a much better auntie than our old one. She was mean.”
“Well, I’ll do the best I can.” She tried to cover her surprise as smoothly as she could.
“Now, Tommy, we need to talk nicely about Auntie Shelia. Remember what I told you?” Mr. Hopkins’s voice brought her head up quickly.
Tommy stood and thought for a minute and then his eyes lit up. “Always say please and thank you?”
“Well, yes, that, too. But I meant about talking about other people,” Mr. Hopkins hinted.
“He means that ‘if you can’t say nothin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all,’” Willy piped up.
“My mother used to say the same thing. I think that’s good advice,” Abby encouraged. “So, what are you men cooking over there? It sure smells good.”
Abby went closer to the fire and watched Mr. Hopkins struggle to flip the meat in the fry pan without getting too close to the fire. “What can I help with?” she offered. If they had been in a kitchen she would have set a table or taken over the cooking. She felt completely out of her element out on the prairie with three strangers.
“Careful
