Christmas on the Prairie Read online

  “How did you find out she lived in Prairie Chicken?”

  “I hired an investigator. And since all the information I could give him was their names and that she lived in Kansas, it took some time for him to locate them.” She sent him a quivery smile. “When I finally received news of their whereabouts in early July, I sent a letter straightaway, but I guess I was too late.” If only she’d come as soon as she’d discovered where Rose was, instead of waiting to get Aunt Maude’s affairs in order.

  “Did it occur to you Rose might have been angry and chosen not to answer?”

  Again, her lips turned up at the corners. She shook her head. “Never once did that possibility cross my mind. Rose was never the sort to hold a grudge. On a whim, I sent a telegram the morning of my departure from Boston. I suppose now I know why there was no one to greet me when I disembarked the stage.”

  Seth sucked in a breath, waiting for her tears to resume. Instead, she tilted her head and peered at him. “Mr. Dobson, did you say my sister had children?”

  Chapter 2

  After a fitful night’s sleep, Ansley’s head still swam with the notion that darling Rose had borne three children without her family—namely, Ansley herself—to help her. Mr. Dobson had promised to bring them over after school today. But she had some things to do before meeting her nephew and two nieces.

  Shaking off the fuzzy early-morning web clouding her brain, she stretched her arms above her head. A smile tipped her lips as she heard Alice trying to quiet the Anderson children outside her bedroom door. “Hush before you wake Miss Potter. Come, let’s go downstairs and offer our assistance to Mrs. Boatwright and Mrs. King.”

  “Chores?” A trio of groans grew faint as the little family moved toward the stairs.

  “Yes. Mrs. Boatwright has been very kind to us. The least we can do is help out.”

  Ansley shoved the thick quilt aside, fully intending to rise, dress and go down to join the breakfast preparations. Instead, she closed her eyes, just for a second. The lack of sleep caught up to her, and she felt herself drifting, unable to pull herself from the fog. The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her again was Mr. Dobson’s handsome face as he told her all about Rose’s darling children.

  A loud knock at her door jerked her awake and she sat up, instantly alert.

  “Miss Potter?” Mrs. Boatwright’s stern voice pierced the closed door.

  Pulling the covers to her shoulders, Ansley called for the proprietress to enter.

  Mrs. Boatwright opened the door and walked inside carrying a tray. “Do you intend to sleep the day away?”

  “No, of course not.” Ansley’s face warmed under the condemnation. “I must have fallen back asleep.”

  “Well, no matter. As you can see, I’ve brought your breakfast.” She set the silver tray on the writing desk along the far wall. “But don’t expect this each morning. Breakfast is served in the dining room promptly at seven. Next time, you’ll have to do without until lunch.”

  “Of course. How thoughtful of you.”

  “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Alice’s children have requested books from my library and I promised to show them all the stories I read to my sister’s children when they were young. We’ll expect to see you at noon in the dining room.”

  “Wait, Mrs. Boatwright.”

  “Yes?”

  “I need to send a telegram today.” She found it difficult to meet the woman’s eyes, fearing Mrs. Boatwright might just see right through to her soul.

  “And?”

  “Well, it’s just that I don’t know where to find the telegraph office.”

  Mrs. Boatwright chuckled. “Prairie Chicken is no Boston, Miss Potter. Just turn left at the bottom of the porch steps and keep going. It’s just next to the general store. You’d best hurry, though. Looks like we’re in for another gully washer.”

  “I will, and thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She reached for the doorknob but turned back. “Miss Potter, you might get to know Seth and Teddy before you go trying to yank those young’uns away from them.”

  “Why, Mrs. Boatwright, I’d never do that.”

  And who on earth was Teddy? Another brother?

  The old lady’s eyebrows lifted and Ansley could see she didn’t believe it.

  With a sigh of concession, Ansley waved her hand. “I’m simply going to apprise my lawyer of the situation and inquire as to my rights concerning Rose’s children.”

  “Frank and Rose left them to Seth. He’s been good to them.”

  Ansley’s defenses rose. After all, they’d had no idea she would want them. “I’m sure he has, but I have to believe my sister would have wanted me to raise her children.”

  “Why would you think that? You haven’t spoken to her in ten years.”

  How dare she? The old lady must’ve been eavesdropping the night before. The very thought raised Ansley’s ire quite a lot. She gathered a breath for control before she spoke. “Through no fault of mine or Rose’s, I assure you. Rose had the benefit of an education and culture. Her children should have the same. If she were here, she would attend to those things. But with her gone, things have changed.” She paced the floor. “I mean, honestly, Mrs. Boatwright. Tell me, who in this town is going to teach the children about music, literature, art?”

  Mrs. Boatwright narrowed her gaze. “There are other things they will learn here. Things I highly doubt they could learn in a fancy city school. Such as hard work, love and the support of good friends in a small community. And it isn’t as though there’s no schoolteacher. They certainly aren’t growing up ignorant.”

  Though the woman did make a couple of good points, Ansley refused to back down. “There are different levels of ignorance. If they’re to make good matches, they must learn certain graces.”

  Mrs. Boatwright snorted just like that. “Matches? They’re children. Do you intend to force them into arranged marriages?”

  “Of course not!” But for Rose’s girls to marry farmers and consign themselves to the hard lives of farm wives when there was simply no reason for them to do so simply wouldn’t do. Ansley quickly dismissed the thought that shoved its way into her mind: Rose had married a farmer, and it appeared as though she had been completely content with her life.

  “Besides, dear, all your schooling didn’t exactly make a good match for you, did it?”

  Heat raced to Ansley’s cheeks. “Well, no. But I had my aunt to care for and no time for courting and such.”

  Shaking her head, Mrs. Boatwright reached for the door again and turned the knob. “I suppose there’s no changing your mind.”

  “No, ma’am, there isn’t. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us.”

  “I can see why you would.”

  Uneasiness gripped Ansley’s stomach. “I’d just prefer to discuss any arrangements with Mr. Dobson before he gets the wrong impression.”

  “Well, you needn’t worry. My lips are sealed. Trust me, I wouldn’t want to be the one to speak to Seth and Teddy about them losing those children. And the children probably wouldn’t find the idea very pleasing either. They love their uncle and aunt.” She paused as though she might go on, then opened the door. “Good day, Miss Potter.”

  Alone with the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee, Ansley stared at the closed door. Aunt Teddy? She’d assumed “Teddy” was a man. Mr. Dobson hadn’t mentioned having a wife. But she supposed it was natural for a handsome man such as himself to have been snatched up long ago. Nibbling on a slice of crisp bacon, Ansley chided herself at the gnawing disappointment deep inside.

  Gracious, she didn’t even know the man. Besides, once she informed him of her intentions regarding the children, he would hate her forever.

  * * *

  Seth halted the wagon in front of the sch
oolyard just as the dismissal bell rang. A moment later, the doors flew open and children poured out of the building. Frowning, he peered closer through the pouring rain, hoping to catch a glimpse of at least one of the children.

  “Uncle Seth!” Jonah had spotted him. The nine-year-old waved, and then nudged his little sisters toward the wagon. Seth hopped down and walked to the other side.

  Five-year-old Lily greeted him with her usual heart-melting smile, and held up her chubby arms. Seth carried her around to his side of the wagon and set her in the seat before climbing in next to her. Jonah hopped into the back, his legs dangling from the tailgate. “Jonah,” Seth called. “Come up here. I need to tell you three something.”

  Seth flicked the reins and headed the wagon toward the boardinghouse.

  “You’re going the wrong way, Uncle Seth.”

  “We’re going to Mrs. Boatwright’s,” he said, glad for the introduction to the subject.

  “For pie?” Lily’s voice rose with childish excitement. The pudgy little girl had a sweet tooth like no child Seth had ever met.

  He chuckled. “Maybe. If you’re good. But there’s another reason we’re going there. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  “Who?” Lily asked.

  Jonah gave a snort. “I bet Uncle Seth’s getting hitched.”

  Seth jerked his head around to look at the boy. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

  “Sarah Wayne said her aunt Isabelle is setting her cap to get you to the altar.”

  Well, that was news to him. He’d never even considered Miss Isabelle Wayne in that way. “Well, you already know Miss Isabelle, so even if I were sweet on her, which I’m not, why would I be taking you to meet her?”

  Hannah glanced over Lily’s head. “Then who are you getting married to, Uncle Seth?”

  The horses gave a sudden jerk as one of them slipped, then righted itself in the sludge. Grateful for the quick reprieve from the ridiculous line of questioning, Seth muscled the animals back in line. “Okay, listen up. I’m not getting married. There is no woman for you to meet. Well, there is, but she’s not someone I’m marrying.”

  “Are you courting her? First you have to court her, and then you get to marry her.” Lily continued the completely inappropriate conversation that was, quite frankly, starting to wear on Seth’s good nature. “That’s what Sarah Wayne says.” Clearly, the children believed Sarah Wayne to be an authority on the subject of courting and marriage. He might have to have a talk with the schoolteacher about this Sarah Wayne.

  “No. I’m not courting anyone. I’m not marrying anyone. The woman you are going to meet is your ma’s sister.”

  “Aunt Ansley?”

  Jonah’s question brought Seth’s attention back around to the boy. “Yes. How much do you know about her?”

  Hannah answered. “Mama told us all about how she had a sister and the two of them lived with a very rich aunt after their ma died when they were children. She said she missed her sister something awful, and sometimes Mama cried about it.”

  “Why is she here?” Jonah asked, his voice thick and accusing.

  Seth pulled on the reins, halting the wagon in front of the boardinghouse. He set the brake and wrapped the reins around it, then turned his attention back to a question he wasn’t sure how to answer. “I don’t know. But she didn’t know your Ma and Pa aren’t here anymore.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word “dead.”

  Lily nestled against his arm and looked up, her beautiful green eyes filled with uncertainty. “Will she like us?”

  Seth pulled her onto his lap. “How could she not?”

  “I don’t care if she likes me,” Jonah said. “I don’t like her.”

  Hannah responded before Seth could reprimand the boy. “You don’t even know her.”

  “So? She made Ma cry. Are you going to like someone who made Ma cry?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Seth drew in a breath and released it. “Well, let’s wait to pass judgment until we give her a chance at least.”

  With the little girl in his arms, he maneuvered carefully, stepping out of the wagon into two inches of mud. “Be careful getting down,” he instructed Jonah. “And help Hannah.”

  Mrs. Boatwright met them at the door and ushered them inside out of the rain.

  “Well, the children are soaked to the skin, aren’t they?” She looked them over in her stern way and jerked her head toward the dining area through a door to the right. Her gaze focused on Lily, who was still in Seth’s arms. “I’d say you’d like to have a slice of my apple pie, wouldn’t you?”

  Lily glanced up at Seth. “Have I been good?” He smiled and set her on the floor. “I guess so.”

  Mrs. Boatwright inclined her gray head. “Tell Mrs. King I said you can each have a slice of whatever pie you’d like and a glass of milk.” She pointed to a table where two children were already sitting. “Those two came in on the stage with me yesterday, and they’ll be living in town. The girl is just about your age, Hannah. What if the three of you go and sit with them and introduce yourselves?”

  The three headed toward the door. Mrs. Boatwright frowned. “Have you nothing to say to me, children?”

  They stopped and turned guiltily. “Thank you for the kind offer of pie, ma’am,” Hannah said, giving a small curtsy. “We’ll go and make our introductions, as you suggested.”

  Mrs. Boatwright remained focused on Hannah as the trio headed to the dining room. “She’s an odd little thing, isn’t she?”

  Her words raised Seth’s defenses. “I don’t think she’s odd. Just easily influenced.” Seth made a mental note to speak with Teddy, as soon as she returned from visiting their grandfather in Martin’s Creek. Clearly she read the girl far too many fairy stories.

  “Well, don’t go getting riled up,” the elderly woman said. “I didn’t mean her mind’s unhinged. Just that she’s different from other little girls.”

  “Not the ones who curtsy.” Seth couldn’t stop a smile.

  With a wave of her hand, Mrs. Boatwright dismissed the topic. “Shall I fetch Miss Potter for you? I assume you’ve brought the children to meet her?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  “Wait here,” Mrs. Boatwright instructed.

  Seth stood at the bottom of the steps watching the children through the adjoining door between the foyer and restaurant. He heard a door close at the top of the stairs. He turned just as Miss Potter began descending the steps. Just like the day before, she wore a dress far too fancy for Prairie Chicken, but he had to admit, it was nice to see a woman all fancied up and looking pretty—like one of those princesses in England. She smiled down at him as each step brought her closer. “Good afternoon, Mr. Dobson.” When she reached the bottom of the steps she extended her hand.

  He raised the hand and just as he pressed his lips to the soft fingers, he realized she had only meant to shake his hand.

  He met her startled gaze. “Why, that was unnecessary, Mr. Dobson.”

  Sending her a sheepish grin, he shrugged and let go of her hand. “You looked awfully royal coming down the stairs. It just seemed like the thing to do.”

  “You’re mocking me?” A little frown creased her brow and Seth recognized a look of hurt rather than anger.

  “No, Miss Potter. You just looked pretty and walked so—I don’t know.”

  “Gracefully?” Mrs. Boatwright supplied, her voice thick with amusement.

  “Yes, that’s the word. You looked graceful.” Oh, for mercy’s sake. He was just making himself look like more of a fool with every word he spoke. “Anyway, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed a lady’s hand in my whole life.”

  Of course, he’d never met a woman as refined and soft-spoken as Ansley, either. And here she was j
ust staring at him as though he’d lost his mind.

  Then, suddenly, she laughed. Loudly. Not the sort of laugh he imagined might come out of a princess. By the sound of it, he wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if she’d slapped him on the back. “Mr. Dobson, I assure you I was only a little surprised. So tell me, where are my sister’s children?”

  Chapter 3

  Ansley fought a rush of tears as she stood in the doorway to the dining room and watched the three children sitting at a table with the two eldest Anderson children. Three bedraggled darlings who looked just like Rose—especially the youngest girl. “They’re soaked,” Ansley murmured.

  “I collected them from school in the wagon, but it was raining pretty hard.”

  At his defensive tone, Ansley hurried on to clarify. “It wasn’t a criticism, Mr. Dobson. Just an observation. I’m sure a little rain isn’t going to hurt them.”

  The boy, her nephew, shoved back his empty plate and gulped down the milk in his glass. He turned and his eyes found his uncle, then slid over to her. He stared, unsmilingly. Alarm seized Ansley at the anger flashing in his eyes.

  “That’s Jonah, the oldest,” Mr. Dobson said, his voice low. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.”

  Ansley simply nodded. For the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why Rose’s son should be angry with her.

  The boy said something to the girls and both turned. As she would have expected of any child raised by Rose, the children immediately stood and made their way across the room.

  “Children, this is your aunt Ansley.”

  Unable to look away from the children standing before her, she smiled and held out her hand to the boy, whose tongue was working a line of milk over his lip. “I’m your mama’s big sister.”

  The boy sized her up, unblinking. “We know who you are.”

  “Jonah.” Mr. Dobson’s tone revealed his disapproval.