Instant Prairie Family

Chapter Three

Abby jounced on the wagon seat and took in the view as they drove up to the farmhouse. The house walls were of stout weather-beaten, whitewashed planks settled on a foundation of stones and boulders. Mr. Hopkins hadn’t stopped at the front entrance for obvious reasons since the weeds grew knee-high right up to the house. Instead, he pulled around into the barnyard where the dirt was hard and flat, giving testimony to constant traffic. The barn was made of the same planks as the house minus the paint.

Something akin to excitement ran through Abby when she saw a small back porch running the length of the house with a bench swing in one corner. She could imagine swinging out there on cool evenings after her housework was done, just as her mother used to when Abby was small. On closer inspection, Abby’s excitement dimmed. She doubted anyone had swung on the swing for a few seasons given the amount of dust and spiderwebs that clung to it. What must the house

look like?

One more jerk and the wagon came to a halt. “We’re here, miss. I can’t promise that it’s very welcoming but...”

Abby looked at Mr. Hopkins and found his expression endearing. He’d mentioned on the trip that he had built the house with his brother and that they had taken the better part of a year to get the main parts done. He said something about having to care for Caroline and the boys, and how that had slowed him down. Now he looked embarrassed as if it wouldn’t measure up to what she expected. Mr. Hopkins’s humble clapboard home represented an opportunity to prove she was an able housekeeper and educator. While it might never truly become her home, she could make it a comfortable one for his family.

“Is everything all right?” His voice called her back to the present. Glancing down from her perch still atop the wagon bench, she found him looking up at her expectantly. His hands were extended to help her climb down from the wagon and she mentally chastised herself for not paying more attention.

“Oh. Yes, Mr. Hopkins. I was just admiring your home.” Just a hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but the pride that shone in his eyes reminded her of Tommy when she praised him.

Mr. Hopkins’s hands were firm and strong as he lifted her at the waist and set her on her feet. “Thank you, miss.” He stood a little straighter and surveyed it himself. “She looks a little rough now.” He glanced at the house and shook his head. “I guess it must not look like much, but it’s dry and warm when it’s cold and wet outside. We make do.”

“I’m sure it’s just fine,” Abby reassured him, seeing a glimpse of an insecure little boy behind the tough exterior of her employer.

“If you want to just go on inside,” he said, turning toward the back of the wagon, “I’ll get your trunk and other boxes in short order.”

“Come on. I wanna show you my room.” Tommy took her hand and started to pull her up the stairs.

“Let’s go take a look,” she agreed, and let herself be led into the kitchen. She blinked as she stood at the threshold and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Something smelled as if it had died and was rotting in the middle of the room. It was enough to make her hold her breath. When she finally released the pent-up air, she tried to keep from thinking about what could be making such a stench. As her eyes adjusted, she could take in more of her surroundings. She held back a groan. What could she expect from four men who had been on their own for a number of years?

The floor was the same rough planks as the walls but caked with dirt from the barnyard. The large table stood in the very middle of the large kitchen, its entire surface dirty with lumps of something stuck to its once-smooth surface. Three different-size pots took up part of the wooden counter; each stank of rot and had something decaying inside it. A filthy stove sat in the corner, its pipe connected to a hole just above the grimy window.

It was nice to see that at least there were two glass windows in the kitchen even if they didn’t have screens. She would have enough natural light on most days (once she washed the windows) so that she wouldn’t even need a lantern or candles. The hand pump connected to the sink looked modern and meant she wouldn’t have to lug water from somewhere outside every morning to start the day. But in spite of those conveniences, she clearly had her work cut out for her.

“C’mon.” Tommy had run ahead but was now back, tugging on her hand again.

“Ahem.” A deep voice from behind startled her, chasing her away from the door.

Mr. Hopkins stood with her hope chest on his shoulder as if it were a bag of feathers. “I’ll take this into the room on the first floor and then you can decide where you want to stay. I...” His nose curled as he stepped farther into the room. “Jake!” he exclaimed, frowning as he took in the pots on the counter. “I asked that boy...” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll get the kitchen straightened out in no time, sir.”

“It’s not right for you to have to start working today. I’m sure you just want to rest after your long trip.” His face looked bright red and his eyes didn’t meet hers. Abby found his embarrassment charming.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just need to freshen up a bit and then I could pull something together for supper.”

“Are you going to cook like they do at the hotel?” Tommy piped up, still tugging her hand. Willy hovered at the doorway, trying to act nonchalant.

“Well, I don’t know if it’ll be just like the restaurant, but it will be enough to fill you up. My nieces and nephews like my chicken and dumplings. We could also make fried venison steaks when you go get a big one with your pa. But today I think I’m just going to have to see what’s in the pantry and make something simple. Tomorrow we can make a menu. You can show me how many letters and words you already know,” she offered.

“What’s a menu?” Tommy turned to his bigger brother, but Willy just shrugged.

“A menu is the list of the foods for you to choose from. At the restaurant, the lady gave one to you to look at so you could decide what you wanted to order. Here at the house we will make a list for the week ahead of what we are going to make each day so you can get really hungry the days that we make your favorites. It helps to know what we want to cook so that we can make sure all the ingredients are available.”

“What’s ’gredients?”

“Ingredients are the things we need to make that food, like flour and butter and eggs…. Now, how about if we go help your pa put my stuff in my room and then we can chat?” Abby offered, following the man who had disappeared into the second doorway on the hallway from the kitchen. Once out of the kitchen, she discovered it wasn’t a hallway but a large living room with a comfortable-looking davenport and a rocking chair facing the center of the room. The center wall was a massive fireplace with an ample hearth. The door Mr. Hopkins entered shared the wall with the fireplace. That room would be nice and warm come the winter—if she was still working for the family then.

The bedroom itself was sparsely furnished, with a large bed sagging in the center. The only other piece of furniture was a forlorn nightstand. Everything had a layer of dust, and the spiderwebs in the corner looked like spun cotton.

“Where would you like your chest?” Mr. Hopkins stood in the middle of the room, looking surprised to see the condition of the place. “Um, I hadn’t been in here....”

“I think it would be best if you left it out in the living room for a few minutes until I can tidy up just a bit,” Abby suggested tactfully.

“Are you gonna sleep on the couch?” Tommy asked.

“No.” Abby shook her head and smiled at the small boy, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be sleeping in here, but I think it would be better to air out the room and sweep up a little. Don’t you agree?”

Tommy nodded energetically. Willy hung back at the door, not venturing into the room but watching everyone else.

“Could you do me a favor?” Abby asked Willy, knowing Tommy would probably follow. “Would you go find me the broom and dustpan?” As soon as Tommy and Willy had raced off, she tried the window, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll go get your other things, miss. Unless there’s something else that you would like me to do first?” Mr. Hopkins offered. His hands resting on opposite sides of the door frame reminded her just how big Mr. Hopkins was. He looked capable of building a house on his own.

“Could you give me a hand with the window?”

Mr. Hopkins crossed the room in five large steps. The room shrank with each step. He towered above her as he stood next to her. He pushed a lock on the top of the lower frame and then grunted as he tried to free the window. It took two tries, but suddenly there was a rush of fresh air sending dust dancing across the room.

“Thank you, sir,” she choked out, just before sneezing from the dust.

“No problem. I’ll go open the kitchen windows, too. Might as well get it aired out in here. I’ll have to put screens on as soon as I can so you’ll be comfortable in here in the summer, assuming...” Before he found the words to finish his thoughts, he stalked out of the room.

The boys raced in, fighting about who was going to give her the broom. “Thank you, gentlemen.” She acknowledged both of them, causing Tommy to have a fit of giggles. “Now I need you to go out in the living room until I’m ready for you in here. I’m going to get some of this dust out.” She tied a handkerchief around her face, covering her nose and mouth, making both boys giggle. Too much in a hurry to change, she told herself that the clothes that she had traveled in needed a good washing anyway, so a little more dust wouldn’t hurt.

In a few minutes, she swept up the dirt and dumped it unceremoniously out the open window. She took the bedspread and sheets off the bed, even though there wouldn’t be time to get them washed and dried before nightfall. She opted to get as much of the musty smell out as possible. She hung the bedding on the lines extending from the side of the house to a stand twenty paces away. Beating the dusty linens helped to relieve the tensions that had built up over the last few weeks and gave the boys something vigorous to do.

Rinsing off at the outside well, she returned to the kitchen, happy to find that the three pots had vanished. A good breeze flowed through from the two windows and the doorway to the living area. Someone left a fire started in the stove, but she opened the door and checked it anyway. She put water to boil in the only big cauldron she could find in the pantry. She couldn’t start dinner until she got some of the grime out of the kitchen. Broom in hand, she made quick work of sweeping the bulk of the dirt off the floor.

Two hours later, she had the table and counter spotless, the supplies Mr. Hopkins brought from town put away in the pantry and dinner finished. There hadn’t been time to make bread, but she was glad to see there were all the ingredients she would need tomorrow. For tonight, a simple fare of biscuits and fried meat would be all she could offer. Mr. Hopkins had promised a visit to the smokehouse tomorrow so she could take inventory.

The windows let more than just the breeze in. A bee and a few flies all got a good whack from her wooden spoon for their efforts to visit her kitchen, but the boys’ laughter and shouting rode inside on the breeze, too. The latter far outweighed the first. She smiled, listening to them play with their hoops as they ran around the barnyard with sticks in their hands, competing to see who could last the longest before the hoops would wobble and fall.

Finally, the spotless table set with clean dishes, she stretched her arms to the sides and then over her head. She had always worked hard at Emma’s house, but today, she did more in a few hours than what she usually would do in a whole day. Traveling left her stiff and out of sorts, and last night’s sleep had been fitful. Even with the reassurance that Mr. Hopkins and the boys were sleeping in the tent a few paces from the wagon, Abby had startled awake to every small sound. As tired as she felt now, though, she was sure she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.

“Gentlemen, it’s time for supper,” she called, descending the back stairs.

Tommy dropped his stick in the dust and let the hoop roll off as he sprinted to her. “Can we come in now? Pa said we needed to let you sleep, but it sure smells like you were cooking. Can you come see my room now?”

She grimaced at the last question. What would she find upstairs if the downstairs was so dirty? She wasn’t sure she could take any more surprises like that tonight. At least the mess gave her hope that if she could do her best job, she would show Mr. Hopkins how much he needed her. It wasn’t just a question of taking care of the mess. From the state of the pots and pans, she’d gotten the idea that Mr. Hopkins wasn’t a very good cook, either. He was strong and tall but lean. The boys were on the skinny side, too, but with a few weeks of her meals, she was sure that she could have them filling out very nicely.

“Do you want to let your pa and cousin know it’s time to eat?”

Without letting go of her hand, Tommy stopped, looked over his shoulder and let out a holler that almost left her deaf. “Auntie House says it’s time to eat.”

Turning again toward the house, he started to tug again, but she stood her ground. “Is there something else that you need to do before you head on in?” she prompted.

“Nope. I told ’em,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly.

“I was thinking about your toys. Do you always leave them in the middle of the yard?”

“Huh?” Tommy glanced around, confused, until he spotted Willy carrying in the other hoop and stick. “Oh. Wait here for me, Abby,” he called over his shoulder as he let go of her hand and charged off to collect his forgotten toys.

“Auntie Abby,” a deep voice corrected from the open doors of the barn. Mr. Hopkins had been observing from the shadows. Would he be angry for her familiarity with the boys? Would he approve of her work or was there something she had done that upset him? If only she didn’t feel like she was on trial.

“Auntie Abby,” Tommy repeated.

“Supper’s ready,” she announced, regretting it immediately since Tommy’s voice had probably been heard into the next county.

“So I heard.” His voice held dry humor. Could he actually be amused by Tommy’s antics?

From across the barnyard, Abby thought the corners of his lips twitched, and she wondered what his smile would look like. Although Mr. Hopkins seemed very reserved with her, the boys didn’t fear him. In fact, more than once she watched them climb all over him like playful little pups. From the wagon she had almost been sure she heard him laughing with the boys as they had settled down to sleep by the riverside the night before.

Abby’s brother-in-law, Palmer, had never interacted with his children like that. Trying to remember her own father, she felt sadness at the faded memories. Closing her eyes for a brief second, she remembered his scratchy chin nuzzling her at bedtime, after he had read her a story and listened to her prayers. Had they wrestled as well and she just couldn’t remember or was it a game reserved for boys only? Her nephews loved to wrestle each other and she delighted in tickling them. How would they be doing now?

Tommy ran back to her and started his now familiar tugging on her arm. “Let’s go!”

“Okay.” She smiled again and let him pull her along.

“Tomas Daniel!” It was a command, not a shout, but it brought Tommy up short and got her attention, as well. “You should never pull a lady. You need to learn to walk at her pace,” Mr. Hopkins instructed his son, having almost caught up to them with his long strides. He let the others enter first, holding the door open when they reached the porch.

Another young man stood there, too. He was thin and tall, with the same sandy-brown hair and light blue eyes as Mr. Hopkins, and he stood waiting on the porch while she and the boys washed their hands in the sink. Abby wondered where the other man had been as she hurried around to make sure that the table was ready. The boys scampered to their places at the table and climbed up, Tommy kneeling on his chair so he could reach.

“Miss Stewart.” Mr. Hopkins turned to the younger man next to him. “I’d like to introduce you to my nephew, Jake Hopkins.”

The poor boy’s face was beet-red. He looked everywhere but at her. He nodded and mumbled something that she couldn’t quite understand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Master Hopkins. I hope you didn’t have too much work to do while your uncle collected me from the train.”

“Um, no, ma’am, I mean miss.” His voice cracked between words and then he dropped the soap his uncle had just handed him. Although Abby had not thought it possible, his face turned even redder.

“She’s Auntie Abby,” Tommy corrected, leaving both Abby and Jake with an uncomfortable situation. It was obvious that he was a teen and could not as easily call her auntie, especially since he was living with his uncle.

Mr. Hopkins settled the matter. “Around here we usually use just first names for the boys, so you can address him as Jake. No need for master or mister.” He didn’t offer for her to call him by his first name, which was just as well. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on a first-name basis with her employer, either.

After a pause, she decided to change the subject. “I hope you’re all hungry. I made enough to feed an army.”

After everyone was seated, Mr. Hopkins asked for God’s blessing on the food and the hands that prepared it. He also asked for wisdom and grace for the adjustments to come. Abby enjoyed the boys’ constant chatter as they filled their cousin in on all the things that they saw on their trip into town. It was becoming evident that it was not a common event.

Before she thought it was possible, all the plates were empty once again. “You cook really good. Gooder than Pa. He always burns everything,” Tommy announced.

“It was really good,” Willy confirmed. He had not yet directed any comments to her. Now that he had, she felt as if she had won a prize.

“The boys are right. You did a fine job with supper, Miss Stewart. Thank you, especially seeing as how you must be completely tuckered out.” Mr. Hopkins’s gaze confirmed that he was not just being polite but he meant every word. “Is there anything else you’ll need tonight?”

“I still have to make up the bed and clean up here, but I think I’m all set, sir. Thank you.” She rose to start clearing the table, and everyone scrambled to help. She had left water heating on the stove so she could make washing dishes a quick job once everyone had cleared out. To her surprise, Mr. Hopkins rolled up his sleeves, poured part of the hot water into a basin in the sink and started to shave off a few slices of soap. Soon he had the dishes in the sudsy water.

“Pa, can we show her our room now?” Tommy pleaded.

“That’s up to Miss Stewart. She might just want to get some rest,” he answered with his strong forearms submerged in the water.

“Not just yet,” she answered Mr. Hopkins, then turned to the boys. “Why don’t you help me get the blankets off the line outside before it gets too dark and then you can show me your room? I think you said something about blocks your pa made for you. I’d like to see those tonight even if we don’t have time to play. Tomorrow we’ll have time to explore and see just how much you can teach me about your house.”

“I’m not a teacher,” Tommy giggled. “That’s your job.”

“But you know lots about where the clothes are, where the tub is for washing the clothes and what your favorite foods are. You can teach me all those things while I teach you how to read. I even brought some books so I can read you some stories when we get settled.”

“Could you read us one tonight? Please?” Tommy cajoled.

After offering to take over the dishes again and being assured everything was under control, she turned to the boys. “How ’bout you help me with my bedding first? Then we’ll see what time it is. Maybe your pa wants you to be in bed soon.”

She sought a confirming look from her employer but found him silently staring at her. “How ’bout we talk in just a minute, once you’re done getting the bedding?” he suggested, and turned back to the dishes before she could answer.

* * *

Her new room smelled fresher now. She stood back and inspected her work... Well, the work she did after the boys “helped” her to make her bed. One more thing she would need to add to her list of lessons for them. Mr. Hopkins had come into the room with a bed key and tightened the ropes under the mattress so it no longer sagged. She closed the window most of the way, leaving only a crack open so the air could continue to circulate without the bugs eating her alive.

“Excuse me, Miss Stewart. Did you want me to put your chest and boxes in your room now or leave them here?” Mr. Hopkins stood right outside her door, awaiting her answer. He took up the majority of the doorway with his broad shoulders and muscled forearms perched on each side of the door frame.

“If you could bring them in here, that would be very nice. Thank you. You could put them right there.” She pointed to the corner under the window and moved so he could get past her even as the boys climbed onto the bed.

“Boys, it’s time to go get ready for bed.” His statement was met with groans, but neither boy argued as they left the room. He looked up to see her watching and grinned as if he knew a secret.

“Now,” he whispered, “Tommy will be back in five seconds to ask if you can read—”

“Pa, can Auntie House read to us?” Tommy shuffled back into the room right on time.

Abby fought not to laugh out loud as Mr. Hopkins gave her a knowing glance and a wink above

Tommy’s head.

“I was about to talk to her about that, but if you don’t get ready for bed, there won’t be time for anything other than prayers.” His voice was as stern as ever and didn’t give away the humor Abby read in his eyes.

“But she could come for prayers, couldn’t she?” Tommy persisted.

“Tomas Daniel,” Mr. Hopkins said in a deep, low voice.

“Yes, Pa. I’m going but, please.” The boy was close to whining.

“Go get ready for bed.” The command left no room for argument.

Tommy left the room, walking like a man sentenced to face the firing squad. Abby watched him walk away and then turned to find Mr. Hopkins watching her with a guarded expression, the lighthearted humor forgotten.