Their Frontier Family. Lyn Cote
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me stoppin’ in.” She looked to Sunny.
“No. No. You’re very welcome,” Sunny rushed to assure the newcomer though she wasn’t sure she meant it. “Please join us.” She waved the woman to one of the large rocks around the campfire and quickly offered her coffee.
Two women to talk to—a blessing and a trial.
“I’m Nan Osbourne. My man and me live over yonder.” She waved southward. “Glad to see another family come to settle.”
“Mrs. Whitmore and her husband are nearly newlyweds,” Mrs. Fitzhugh said.
“Well, none of us are much more than that.” Mrs. Osbourne gave a broad wink. “You got any family hereabouts, Miz Whitmore?”
“No. No. I have no family...near,” she corrected quickly. She’d just told Caroline that she had stayed with her family. “And Noah’s family is all in Pennsylvania...too.” Picking her words with such care quickened her pulse.
“That’s hard, leaving family,” Mrs. Osbourne said, looking mournful. “I cried and cried to leave my ma.”
“My mother has already passed,” Sunny said, her words prompting a sudden unexpected twinge of grief. Or was it recalling she was all alone in the world? Why would she mourn Mother’s death now, almost seven years after it? Was it because so much was changing? I’m not alone now. I’ve got Dawn and Noah. Gratitude rushed through her. Could this be proof that God was forgiving her? There was so much she didn’t understand about God and sin.
“I got news.” Nan Osbourne grinned. “We got a preacher in town now.”
“Really?” Caroline Fitzhugh brightened with excitement.
Sunny tried to keep her face from falling. A preacher? In the past more than one had shouted Bible verses at her, calling her a harlot and predicting her damnation. The fires of hell licked around her again. She touched Dawn, her treasure, smoothing back her baby fine hair, and the action calmed her.
“The preacher’s goin’ to preach this Sunday right in town. He says around ten o’clock,” Nan announced.
“That’s wonderful. I’ve been missing church.” Caroline sighed.
Sunny tried to appear happy as her peace caved in.
“I think it’s wonderful that he’s goin’ to preach out in the open like a camp meetin’. Then even them who don’t want to hear the gospel will.”
Sunny posed with a stiff, polite smile on her face. Was the woman talking about the people who’d be just waking upstairs at the saloon? Of course she was. Once more Sunny wished so much that she could help another woman get free of that life.
But I can’t. I’ve got to make this new start work for Dawn.
“You’ll be comin’, won’t you, Miz Whitmore? You and your man?” Nan asked.
Crosscurrents slashed through Sunny. I want to go. I want You to know, God, how thankful I am for this second chance. But would the preacher see right through her? Would Noah want to go? Let her go?
A thought came. Should she mention that Noah had been raised Quaker? He’d almost stopped using “thee.” Did that mean he didn’t want to be considered a Quaker anymore?
Both women were gazing at her expectantly.
Sunny breathed in deeply. “I’ll discuss it with him. I know I want to attend. Do you know what kind of preacher he is?”
“I didn’t ask,” Nan said. “Out here on the frontier, preachers are so rare we can’t be choosy about them. He struck me as a good man.”
Sunny nodded, hoping she hadn’t asked the wrong thing. “I’ll speak to Noah. But unless he forbids me, I’ll be there.”
Both women looked startled at this announcement.
Sunny cringed. She’d said the wrong thing, hinting that Noah might not be a Christian. And she couldn’t let that simmer and turn into gossip. She leaned forward to give some explanation. “Noah was raised Quaker. I wasn’t. So I don’t know if he’ll...” Words failed her.
Caroline patted her hand. “I understand.”
“Quakers were against slavery,” Nan said stoutly. “They did a lot of good with helpin’ slaves get free.”
Sunny gave a fleeting smile, tension bubbling inside.
“Nan and I will pray that you get to come to the meeting,” Caroline said in a low voice. Nan nodded vigorously. And Sunny knew she’d made progress on making friends this morning. Her mood lifted—for a moment.
What would Noah say about going to the Sunday meeting? And her telling these friendly strangers that he’d been raised Quaker?
* * *
In the last rays of twilight Noah sat by the fire, his stomach comfortably full. Sunny didn’t know how to cook many things but what she did cook tasted good. Exhausted from felling trees all day, Noah realized he’d discovered a few muscles he hadn’t known about—and they were not happy with him.
He held a narrow block of wood in his hand, whittling it into a new handle for a small ax. During this quiet time Sunny was acting funny—opening her mouth as if to speak, then closing it, and worrying her thumb by picking at it and hiding her hand behind her skirt. Why, he didn’t know. Or want to ask. Last night had been enough honesty.
“How many more logs do we need for a cabin?” his wife asked.
She sat by the fire nursing Dawn who seemed fussier than usual. The firelight highlighted the gold in Sunny’s hair. Once again, he realized he had married a pretty woman. Everything about her was so soft and this world was so hard. He wondered what it might be like to hold her.
“Noah?” she prompted.
“Sorry. My mind was wandering.” He shut his mind to a surprising image of holding Sunny close, a daunting thought. He shaved some more from the wood. “Another day and we should have enough for a cabin. Then Charles and Martin will help me lift the logs into place.”
“I’m so grateful to them.”
His hands were beginning to tremble with fatigue as he whittled. “Who was that other woman who stopped by?”
“Nan Osbourne. She and her husband live nearby. She seems very nice. From her accent, I’d say she was from south of here.”
Noah nodded. Sunny’s continued pensiveness piqued his curiosity. In spite of himself, he asked, “What did she have to say?”
Sunny startled as if caught doing something she shouldn’t. “We just talked about recipes and they told me about the people who live hereabouts.”
Noah examined the handle he was crafting, running his thumb over it. Sunny was definitely holding something back. But he was too tired to risk asking for more. He didn’t have the energy to be irritated by hearing something he might not like. So he hesitated.Sunny also had a way of stirring him. She was now.But he couldn’t act on this. He found it impossible to make a move.
The bottomless well of sorrow and dark things roiled up within. Sunny made him long to feel normal again. But he’d seen too much, done too much that was unforgivable. Repressing this, he rose while he still could stand. “I’m going to go to bed now. I’m worn out.”
“I’ll bank the fire. You go ahead, Noah. I should have seen how tired you were.” She rose and briefly touched his arm. “Go on.”
Her innocent touch made him ache with loneliness. He moved away, obeying her. Noah shucked off his boots and then hoisted himself onto the hard wagon bed and rolled into his blankets. His last thought as he fell asleep was that Sunny deserved better than him.
* * *
A few days later Sunny stepped inside their new cabin. She hadn’t anticipated how it would