a seamstress for eight years, since her father had died.
“You could be a seamstress here.”
“I have friends there.” Though not many since she devoted so much time to her work and had resigned herself to being an old maid.
“You could make new ones here.”
“There isn’t even a town here.”
“I’ll have one built soon.”
“How soon? A year, five years, ten? By then the boys will be grown, if they survive this place.”
“A year,” he said. “This place will be a real town in one year’s time.”
She shook her head. “A year?” There was nothing but trees, and hills, and tall, dead grass. “How will you build a town in one year?”
“More settlers are coming into the territory and speculators are arriving in droves at St. Anthony Falls, which is only a hundred miles southeast of here. If I had one or two investors, we could begin construction on more buildings immediately.”
“Buildings do not make a town.”
“What does?”
“People. Teachers, preachers, doctors—”
“There are teachers and a preacher at the mission, and the military doctor is at Fort Ripley—”
“No. Here. To make this place a town.”
“If I had a teacher, a preacher and a doctor living here, would you consider this a real town?”
“Not just a teacher, but a school. And not just a preacher, but he must have a church—a separate building from the school. And there must be at least one doctor in town.” She looked at the empty woods. “And then, yes, I would say it is a town—or at least a good start.”
Abram took a tentative step toward her. “Then this is what I propose. Stay for a year and help me take care of the children. I’m confident I’ll have a teacher, with a school, a preacher, with a church, and at least one doctor by November first of next year. But if I don’t—” He swallowed. “You may take my boys back to Iowa City with my blessing.”
Charlotte stood speechless.
He studied her closely. “It’s my only offer. If you refuse, you will have to return to Iowa City alone, immediately.”
“Why?” She shook her head. “Why are you giving me this option?”
“Because.” He paused and looked down at his weathered hands. “I know how much you want to be with the boys. And—” he let out a sigh “—I’m sure Susanne would want it, too.”
“But I can’t stay here for a year.”
He looked up, a challenge in his eyes. “Why not?”
“I already told you. My business.”
“Is there no one to do the work for you—at least for now?”
Of course there were people who could take over for now—but one year? More important, could she survive in a place like this for one year? Her sister hadn’t, and her mother hadn’t. What made her think she could? Charlotte never took risks. She had learned long ago that nothing good came from taking risks. She was content to stay in Iowa City, unmarried, and be a seamstress for the rest of her life. It was safer that way.
“Why can’t I take them with me and bring them back if you succeed?”
“I have no desire for them to leave Minnesota Territory. If you’re worried about a living, I would pay you to keep my house.” He studied her as if gauging whether or not she could do the work. “If you think you could manage.”
Manage? Hadn’t she been the one to care for Susanne all those years? “Of course I could manage.”
“Then you’ll stay?”
Charlotte wrung her hands. “Why a year? Why not six months?”
“That’s impossible.” He shook his head. “Six months from now is the first of May. I couldn’t build a town over the winter. I need the spring and summer—at least until September first of next year.”
Charlotte quickly calculated. “Ten months.”
He rubbed his beard, as if in thought. “If I found the right investors, I think I could do it in ten months.”
Was she mad to say yes and take a risk? But what choice did she have? She wanted to care for Susanne’s boys. They were all the family she had left. Her house in Iowa City was locked up and her customers could find other seamstresses until her return. There was nothing to stop her but fear.
She spoke quickly, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision. “Yes.”
He became still. “Yes?”
She glanced at Susanne’s grave. She wasn’t doing this for Abram; she was doing this for her sister and her nephews. She could give up ten months of her life to ensure that Susanne’s boys returned with her to Iowa City.
And maybe, just maybe, she could make Abram realize how foolish his dream was and she’d return to Iowa much sooner.
* * *
Abram stared at his sister-in-law, suddenly unsure of the agreement they had just made. He had set out to convince her to stay on as his housekeeper, yet now he had agreed to send the boys with her if he couldn’t build a town. What had he been thinking? What if he didn’t succeed? How would he live without his boys?
Yet the truth had been evident since Susanne had died and he had sent the boys to live at the Belle Prairie Mission. This settlement was no place for growing boys without a woman to care for them. Charlotte’s sudden appearance seemed like an answer to an unspoken prayer—even if it meant living under the same roof with her.
No matter what, he would have a teacher, a preacher and a doctor living in Little Falls within ten months. Miss Charlotte Lee would go back where she came from, and at that point, the population would boom and there would be other women available to hire as a full-time housekeeper. If he succeeded.
“Are we going now?” she asked.
“Going where?”
“To get the boys.”
He shook his head, still a bit unsettled by the sudden shift in his plans. “Not today. I have another lumber order I need to deliver to Fort Ripley on Monday and I only have today to work on it. We’ll go for them tomorrow.”
She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body.
“You should get back inside,” he said, leaving the graveyard.
“I’ll go after them,” she said, keeping up with his long-legged stride. “I’ll hook up the wagon and fetch them myself.”
“No. The boys
