Gabrielle Meyer - A Family Arrangement

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 several times, her mouth parting. “The way I treated you?” The pain and loneliness she’d felt for the past six years seeped out in one breath. “You stole my sister. I told Susanne it was a mistake to marry you—”

“Susanne was a grown woman.”

“She was hardly grown! Seventeen is practically a child. And now look. She died, just like our mother, and her three sons are left in this wilderness—”

“It’s not a wilderness.”

She waved her hand in the air, desperation and fear squeezing her chest. “What do you call this place? There is no town, no neighbors. Nothing for miles but this sawmill.”

He leaned forward, his voice tight and defensive. “You’re right—there is no town, but, God willing, there will be. There is a mission four miles north of here, with a military fort just beyond that. There are trading posts—”

“Where are the boys, Mr. Cooper?” Nothing else mattered to her at the moment but the welfare of her nephews.

“They are safe and well cared for.”

“How could they be safe here...?” She paused, realizing how fruitless her argument was. “I’m here to rescue them—”

“They don’t need rescuing.”

“I disagree.”

“I can see that.”

The river rushed past the building as Charlotte took several deep breaths.

Sawdust floated in the air and stuck to Abram’s wild hair. He looked so different than the man she had met seven years ago at the Fireman’s Ball. Why had Susanne fallen in love with him? Why hadn’t she learned her lesson from Mama’s ordeal? Mama had followed Father from the safety of New York State to pioneer in Iowa when Charlotte and Susanne were young girls. The hard life had taken a toll on Mama’s health. Instead of listening to the doctor and going back to New York, Father had chased one scheme after another, and their mother had succumbed to an early death—just like Susanne.

Tears gathered in Charlotte’s eyes and her chin quivered. She swallowed several times, trying to compose herself. “My sister left civilization, despite my objection, and she met an inevitable fate. I refuse to let you destroy her children in your plan to get rich quick—or to make a name for yourself—or...or whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

The tension fell from his shoulders and he looked at her as if she had struck him. “Is that what you think this is? I’m trying to get rich quick?” He raised his large hands, cracked and bleeding, and indicated his work-worn clothing and his scraggly beard. “Do I look like a man out to make an easy dollar?” His voice shook with an emotion as strong as hers. “I’ve poured my life into this mill, not to mention every last penny I’ve earned. Susanne and I mortgaged everything—”

“Including her life!” The words came out before she could stop them and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Pain filled his eyes—but at the moment her grief was so raw and fresh, she couldn’t stop herself from continuing. “You’re just like my father. You’re filled with an insatiable desire for adventure and challenge. You don’t finish anything you start, because you’re always moving on to bigger and better things—to the detriment of your family—”

“This time is different.” Abram ran his hand through his long hair, causing the sawdust to drift down to his shoulders. “Little Falls will rival any town on the Mississippi. Susanne believed in my vision—”

“Of course she believed in you. She saw the best in everyone—” A sob choked off her words and she turned from him lest he see the tears she could no longer contain. How could her sweet sister be gone? Her short life was snuffed out far too soon and her babies had lost their mama. Robert, the oldest, had just turned five, Martin would be three, and the baby, George, was not quite a year old. The boys had been without a mother for three months. Though Charlotte could never replace Susanne, she would honor her sister’s wishes and do her best.

She finally looked back at Abram. Susanne had been sick for months before she died. She should have gone to a city doctor, yet he had failed to leave his scheme behind to take her. That thought strengthened Charlotte’s resolve. “You can do what you will with your life, but Susanne’s boys deserve better than this, and I intend to give it to them. It’s what she wanted.”

Abram was still a young man, not much older than Charlotte at the age of twenty-five, yet the weight on his shoulders and the anguish in his eyes made him look much older. The fight was gone from his stance as he studied Charlotte. “Do you have the letter she sent you?”

Charlotte nodded and opened the door. Susanne’s wishes were as plain as could be. As soon as he saw the letter, he would agree, and Charlotte could get the boys ready to move.

She left the sawmill and walked across the board plank to the riverbank. Her trunk sat next to the house and she quickly opened it and found the stack of Susanne’s letters bound in red ribbon. She had put the letter on top, knowing Abram would want to see it, and rightfully so.

“Here.” She stood and handed it to her brother-in-law. “This is the letter she wrote right after Robert was born.”

He took the letter and scanned the paper, his brow furrowed.

Charlotte had the words memorized by heart. “‘Now that I’m a mother, I understand how much you sacrificed to provide for me after Mama and Father passed away. If anything ever happens to me, I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more to take care of my children.’” It was quite common for a family member to take over the responsibilities of child care when a father was widowed—especially when there was no one else to help. Surely that was what Susanne had had in mind.

Abram handed the letter back to Charlotte. “She didn’t ask you to take them to Iowa—”

“Of course she did.” Charlotte glanced at the letter to make sure she had given him the right one.

“I’m afraid this trip has been a waste of your time.” He closed the lid of her trunk and effortlessly hefted it to his shoulder before she could stop him. “You’ll have to wait here until the stagecoach returns. Until then, you’ll sleep in my room and I’ll bunk with my employees in the room across the hall.”