I’ve waited five years to meet the boys—”
“And you can wait one more day.” He hated to sound so heartless but she had to understand that there was work to do, and only so much time in a day to get it done. “Use today to get the house ready.”
By the set of her shoulders he could see she didn’t like his answer, but she had little choice.
“See that dinner is ready by noon,” he said. “And then bring us a light lunch in the midafternoon. We’ll work until dark, so have supper ready at eight. You’ll find everything you need in the pantry and root cellar under the lean-to.” He inspected her fashionable gown and recalled how she had responded to the chicken and the dirt yesterday. “Do you think you can manage all that?”
She didn’t respond but set her mouth in a firm line and veered off toward the house like a soldier marching into battle.
Susanne claimed she had learned how to work hard from Charlotte, but he wondered if his wife had been stretching the truth. From her neatly pinned hair to her polished boots, Charlotte didn’t look as if she had ever lifted a finger in her life. Could she keep his home and provide care for his children?
There was only one way to find out.
Abram put his hands in his pockets and walked with determination to the mill.
On Monday morning he would make a trip to St. Anthony Falls and talk with several men who were interested in investing in his town. There had been dozens of men who had come to look over the area since Abram had bought the sawmill and property in 1851, but he had turned each one down, determined to make a go of it himself. After three years of barely getting by—and now his deadline to produce a town in ten months—he had no other options. He needed to find financial partners whether he wanted to or not.
* * *
Charlotte opened the lean-to door and entered the house. After five long years she had hoped to meet her nephews. One more day felt like an eternity.
She stood just inside the lean-to with her hands on her hips and looked at the stack of dirty clothes, the cobwebs in the corners and the dirt on the floor. The housework loomed in front of her like a battlefield. She must strategize an attack or it might overwhelm her—and that was the last thing she could allow. She would prove to Abram that she was more than capable of taking care of his home.
She walked into the kitchen and inspected the greasy stove, the stack of dirty dishes and the mouse droppings. Her mother’s chore rhyme ran through her mind: wash on Monday, iron on Tuesday, mend on Wednesday, churn on Thursday, clean on Friday, bake on Saturday and rest on Sunday. Since today was Saturday, and she would never think to bake in such a filthy kitchen, she would spend the remainder of the day cleaning and then start fresh on Monday morning with the wash.
She went to her room, changed into a work dress and apron, tied a red handkerchief around her hair and then set to work pumping water into a large kettle. At least she didn’t have to sit around all day and fret about Susanne’s boys. She enjoyed staying busy. It was a way to feel in control.
She scoured every surface in the kitchen, including the ceiling, with hot water and lye soap. When that was done, it was time to prepare dinner. She did a quick inventory of the pantry and was surprised at the abundance it contained. Flour, sugar, coffee, dried apples and dried beans. The root cellar was just as impressive with fresh eggs, milk, venison and a barrel full of salt pork. There were several bins of recently harvested vegetables, as well, so she picked out some potatoes, carrots, rutabagas and radishes.
She could make a nice stew with biscuits and dried apple pie for supper. But for dinner she didn’t have time to produce much, so she decided to fry up some bacon. If it was good enough for supper and breakfast, then it should be good enough for dinner, too.
Charlotte removed the last piece of bacon from the grease when the back door opened and Abram walked in with his crew.
All five men stopped and looked around the immaculate kitchen. The root vegetables were sitting on the worktable, washed and waiting to be diced up for the stew, while the dried apples were soaking in a bowl of water on the cupboard.
Charlotte’s hands were chapped from being in soapy water all morning, but she met Abram’s gaze with a bit of triumph. Of course she could manage a house!
He glanced at the handkerchief on her head and then his gaze traveled around the room once again. Disbelief showed on his face. “It hasn’t looked this clean in here since before Susanne became sick.”
The reminder of her sister brought a stab of grief to Charlotte’s heart and her moment of triumph evaporated.
She placed the heaping platter of bacon on the table.
All five men looked at the platter, their faces sagging in disappointment.
“Ah, Miss Lee! Bacon again?” Caleb asked.
“I thought we’d have us a real meal now that you’re here,” Josiah said, pushing his curls out of his eyes as he slumped against the door frame.
Abram’s appreciation dimmed and his eyes filled with irritation. He glanced at the vegetables, but before he could say anything, she grabbed the coffeepot and nodded toward the table. “There will be stew, biscuits and hot apple pie for supper. This was all I had time to prepare for now. Sit up to the table and eat the bacon while it’s still hot.”
They started to come into the kitchen but she held up her free hand. “Clean your boots off in the lean-to. I won’t have you tracking up this floor with mud. And wash your hands in the basin I set up out there.” She offered them a challenging look. “If I’m to serve food in this house, I’ll be serving it to clean hands.”
“You going to let her talk to you like that?” asked the one with freckles named Harry.
All the men looked at Abram to see what he would do. He stared at Charlotte for a moment and then nodded for them to do as she said. “It’s Charlotte’s kitchen for the time being, so we’ll abide by her rules.”
She suppressed an urge to smile as she filled his mug with coffee.
The men came back into the kitchen, each taking their seat, no one saying a word.
They ate their bacon in silence, though Caleb grimaced a time or two and looked at the waiting vegetables fondly.
Milt, Harry, Caleb and Josiah all stood when they were finished and waited for Abram, who took a final swig from his coffee mug. He tilted his head toward the door. “Go on without me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Caleb glanced at Charlotte. “Thanks for the meal.” He dipped his head. “I mean no disrespect, but I hope it’s the last bacon we see for a long time.”
Charlotte appreciated his candor. “I’ll bring you a special treat this afternoon at the mill. Do you like doughnuts?”
His face lit with a grin. “Boy, do I!” With a holler and a jig, he made his way out of the house, followed by the others.
Abram set his coffee mug on the table and stood.
Charlotte began to clear the dirty dishes and tried to ignore him. Why hadn’t he left with the others?
“There’s
