Gabrielle Meyer - A Family Arrangement

“What would your mothers think if they knew you weren’t attending church?” Charlotte took a flapjack off the platter and put it on her plate. “I want you to make your parents proud.”

Caleb, Josiah and Milt ate the rest of the meal in silence.

Abram did, too.

Charlotte was the only one who seemed to have something to say.

* * *

The wagon rumbled over the uneven road toward the north and the long-awaited meeting with her nephews. Charlotte huddled inside her coat, a cloud of air escaping her mouth.

The prairie was draped in a thin blanket of snow with patches of brown grass showing through. A large bluff rose up in the east, covered with leafless trees, now stark against the white landscape.

Caleb, Josiah and Milt sat in the back of the wagon, their heads bobbing up and down as if they had fallen asleep, and perhaps they had. None of them looked happy about going to the mission this morning.

Abram gripped the opening of his coat with one chapped hand while the other held the reins.

“Don’t you have mittens?” she asked.

He glanced at her and she was reminded again of how blue his eyes were, especially now in the bright sunshine glinting off the fresh snow.

“The pair I have are worn through. I was planning to buy a new pair in St. Anthony.”

“You don’t need to do that. Buy me some yarn and I’ll knit new ones for everyone in the house.” She loved to keep her hands busy with sewing and knitting. “If you buy some wool, I’ll also sew you a new coat to match.”

He glanced down at his threadbare coat and sighed. “I wish there was enough time to make it before I meet with investors. I’d probably make a better impression if I didn’t look so destitute.”

She couldn’t make him a new coat by tomorrow, but she could at least wash a pair of his pants and a nice shirt this afternoon so they were dry in the morning. She would have to break her Sabbath rest to do the work, but maybe this one time would be okay—though it might help her cause if he went to St. Anthony looking like a pauper. If others saw how poor he was, they would realize it was foolish to invest in his town.

As tempting as the thought might be, no self-respecting housekeeper would let him go the way he looked.

The moment the mission came within sight, Charlotte sat straighter. She didn’t realize she was clutching her hands together until her cold knuckles hurt.

A commodious house sat off to the left, with a New England–style barn just behind it. The building across the road served as a church and a schoolhouse.

“This is a manual labor school,” Abram said as he turned the horses into the mission yard. “All the children are given chores to help pay for their education and teach them about farm life. The Ayers built the mission in the late 1840s for the fur traders and Indian children in the area.”

He stopped the wagon just outside the house and then jumped down to secure the reins to the porch. He walked around the wagon and offered up his hand to Charlotte just as the front door opened and a middle-aged woman stepped outside.

“Mr. Cooper.” She looked over the group and her gentle smile turned into a look of surprise. “You’ve brought guests. How nice.”

Charlotte put her hand inside Abram’s strong grasp and their gazes met for a split second. She stepped out of the wagon holding her voluminous skirts with her free hand, but the moment her foot hit the earth, she removed her hand from his hold and began to rearrange her skirts.

“Mrs. Ayers, may I present my sister-in-law, Miss Charlotte Lee?”

Mrs. Ayers stepped off the porch and extended her hand to Charlotte. Her kind eyes crinkled at the edges. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Lee. Welcome to Belle Prairie.”

Charlotte shook her hand, her insides quivering. Within moments she would meet her nephews. “Thank you, Mrs. Ayers.”

“And these are three of the men who work for me.” Abram nodded toward the men climbing out of the back of the wagon. “Milt, Caleb and Josiah.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Mrs. Ayers said.

The men nodded with polite resignation.

“Miss Lee insisted we come,” Caleb said.

“Milt, will you and Caleb and Josiah take care of the horses?” Abram said quickly as he nodded toward the barn. “Meet us in the church across the road when you’re done.”

The men mumbled in response while Mrs. Ayers turned to Charlotte. “Have you met the children before?”

“Not yet, but I’m very eager.”

“Come, come, then.” Mrs. Ayers put her hand behind Charlotte’s back and led her to the front door. “Let’s not make you wait another moment. The children should be just finishing up with their breakfast.”

Mrs. Ayers guided them into the front hall and through to a parlor. The room was well decorated and held an upright piano, large woven rugs and windows looking out onto the prairie.

The sound of children’s laughter entered in from a room across the hall.

“Mr. Cooper, would you retrieve your children from the dining room?” Mrs. Ayers asked. “We’ll allow them to meet their aunt here in the parlor privately.”

Abram left the parlor and Mrs. Ayers indicated one of the sofas. “Why don’t we have a seat?”

Charlotte twisted her hands and glanced at the open door. “Thank you.” She sat on the sofa, but poised herself to rise the moment Abram returned.

Mrs. Ayers smiled and patted Charlotte’s hands. “I understand completely.”

Charlotte inhaled a deep breath and waited.

* * *

Abram left the ladies and crossed the hall to the dining room. A dozen children sat around the table while two young teachers cleared the dirty dishes.

Abram immediately located his blond-haired boys in the mix of Indian children and fur trader’s children.

While the others conversed, Robert sat quietly, his eyes focused on his plate. He didn’t look right or left, but kept to himself. And why wouldn’t he? He could not communicate with the other children.

“Papa!” Martin jumped off his chair and raced around the table.

Abram squatted and took his three-year-old son in his arms. “Hello, Martin.”

Martin pulled back and blinked at Abram with his large blue eyes. “I know how to say my ABCs, Papa. Do you want to hear?”

“I’d love to hear—but right now I would like for you to meet your aunt Charlotte.” Abram stood and walked around the table to touch Robert on the shoulder.

Robert glanced up. His blue eyes, so like Martin’s, grew large with surprise—but quickly filled with excitement at seeing his father. He stood and wrapped his arms around Abram’s waist. He spoke the word Papa, but it didn’t have the right intonation.

The teachers stopped working and glanced in Abram’s direction. The one with blond hair offered a sad smile. “Robert has been struggling this week. He’s very frustrated and he’s had several fits.”

Abram looked down at his son, pain and guilt weighing heavy on his conscience. Before Robert had lost his hearing, he had been a content, cheerful little boy, eager to please. Afterward he had become unruly and disobedient, often throwing tantrums the others couldn’t control. Abram had wanted to keep him home, but it had been impractical. Now, with Charlotte’s arrival, his son could have the individual attention he needed.

The thought brought a smile to Abram’s face as he indicated the door. “Come meet your aunt.”

Robert showed no sign of comprehension and Abram tried hard not to show his disappointment.

“Is Aunt Charlotte nice?” Martin asked, his eyes growing rounder. The small boy had found it difficult to adjust to life at the mission after Susanne’s death, and now Abram would ask him to adjust to another new person.