Six
Little Falls, Minnesota Territory
November 1, 1854
What had her sister been thinking when she followed Abram Cooper to the wilds of Minnesota Territory? Charlotte Lee shaded her eyes as she surveyed the sawmill, the two-story home and the barn on the banks of the Mississippi. The rough-lumber buildings were the only structures to mark the crude settlement.
This was the town Abram and Susanne had built out of the wilderness? Seeing it now, Charlotte realized Susanne had been exaggerating in her letters. This was not a town. It could hardly be called a farm.
The dust from the departing stagecoach settled around Charlotte as she let out a painful sigh. “Oh, Susanne.” She whispered her sister’s name, her breath puffing out into the cold evening air. If only Susanne had listened and stayed in Iowa City, where everything was safe and civilized, maybe she’d still be alive.
The pale November sky boasted a pink sunset, which did little to warm her shivering body. Charlotte strode down the single-wagon road toward the sawmill. The brown grass and bare branches of the oaks, elms and maples attested to the coming winter. Thankfully the snow had held off long enough for her to travel. Hopefully the clear sky would continue to hold for just a few days more until the stagecoach returned to take her back to Iowa.
Water rushed past the wing dam in the river, down a narrow sluice, and pushed the waterwheel into motion on the side of the sawmill. Charlotte balanced across a narrow plank and opened the door into a dimly lit room. Large cogs whirled to her right and a bulky rod pumped up and down, creating a loud grinding noise. Piles of rough-cut lumber littered the floor and cobwebs crisscrossed the rafters. Seeing no one on the main level, she lifted the hem of her gown and started up a set of stairs just ahead.
A tall man stood with his back toward her, a clipboard in his hand, while two shorter men stacked lumber in the corner of the large room. A thick log advanced through a sash saw, and with each up-and-down thrust of the blade, the log moved a fraction of an inch forward. One of the men stacking lumber noticed her and stopped his work, causing the tall man with the clipboard to turn.
His startled blue eyes looked crystal clear amid his shaggy brown hair and beard.
Was this Abram Cooper? The handsome young man Susanne had eloped with six years ago? It couldn’t be. This man looked much older and much tougher around the edges.
Recognition slowly dawned in his eyes. “Charlotte?”
Yes, this was Abram Cooper. Charlotte recognized the determination and focus in the set of his shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
She swallowed her nerves. “I’ve come to collect my nephews and take them back to Iowa.”
Abram stared at her for a moment.
She stared back, trying not to falter under his intense gaze.
He glanced at the loud saw and then reached over and pushed a lever forward. The sash immediately stopped and silence filled the dusty room. Pale sunshine streamed through the large cracks in the plank walls and bathed him in bars of pink light. The two other men stopped working and watched in quiet fascination.
“What did you say?” Abram asked.
Charlotte stood taller than most women, but Abram was taller still. She was forced to look up into his face as she cleared her throat. “I’m here for the boys. The stage will return for us in three days.”
Incredulity widened his eyes. “You’re not taking my children.”
“Susanne asked me to take them if—”
“She never said anything to me—”
“After Robert was born,” Charlotte said quickly, “she told me if anything ever happened to her, she wanted me to take care of him.”
Abram glanced over his shoulder at the two young men and then looked back at Charlotte, indicating the stairs. “Let’s continue this conversation downstairs.”
She almost sighed in relief. It was difficult enough to confront her brother-in-law, but to do so with an audience was far worse.
Charlotte descended the stairs and waited at the bottom.
Abram strode down, irritation—or was that fear—emanating from his countenance.
“Do you honestly think I would send my children four hundred miles away—with you?” he asked through clenched teeth. “After the way you treated me, I’m surprised you’d show your face here at all, Charlotte.”
She blinked
