Their Frontier Family. Lyn Cote

turned around and nearly hugged him, but his expression held her off. “Me, too. It’s a wonderful home.” During this bright moment the way Noah always held himself apart chafed her. Would it always be this way?

      “Hello, the house!” Caroline Fitzhugh called out. “We came to see your new home.”

      Whisking Dawn up into her arms, Sunny stepped outside to see that Caroline and her family and the Osbournes had come to celebrate. Charles Fitzhugh carried a fiddle and the women each carried a covered dish.

      “Oh, I have nothing prepared!” Sunny exclaimed.

      “We’re makin’ this party!” Nan called out cheerfully. “We won’t stay long, just wanted to see your fine new cabin and congratulate you.”

      Sunny said all that was proper but when she turned to Noah, it was as if he’d slammed all the shutters and locked the door against their company. She gave him an understanding smile but he stood like a tree, not responding by even a flicker of an eyelid. She went up on tiptoe and acted as though she were kissing his cheek in order to whisper, “They won’t stay long. Don’t spoil their happiness.”

      He glanced down at her, stony-eyed. Dawn began to cry and Sunny jiggled her in her arms.

      Then he gave Sunny a tight-lipped nod. “Welcome to our new home.” Sunny sighed silently with relief. “Come right in.”

      Nan had brought her husband, a tall lanky man with curly blond hair. He, along with the other guests, admired the large cabin with its roomy loft and lean-to for the animals.

      Sunny was a bit embarrassed because Dawn continued to fuss. She tried to distract their company by talking about future plans. “Noah is going to dig me a root cellar. And build a spring house,” Sunny said, caught up in the flush of showing her new home. She tried to check herself, knowing that Noah was scrutinizing, gauging each word.

      “You’re going to have a right nice place here all right,” Nan said. “You must be plannin’ to stay here.”

      “I plan to stay longer than five years to get title to the land,” Noah said. “I traveled all over northern Illinois, eastern Iowa and southern Minnesota. I decided this land was the best I’d seen.”

      His loquaciousness shocked Sunny. Maybe Noah was feeling a bit of pride and happiness. Remaining cautious, she kept her mouth shut and let Noah do the talking.

      “Well, you haven’t tried to plow yet,” Mr. Osbourne said wryly. “You’ll find that Wisconsin’s best crop is rocks.”

      “As long as they don’t sprout and grow new ones, I’ll do fine,” Noah responded.

      His voice was pleasant enough but Sunny sensed his disdain for a man put off by rocks. Dawn chewed on her hand and whimpered.

      Mr. Fitzhugh drew his bow over his fiddle. “I’ll play one song and then we all got to get back to our own work.”

      “And we’ll help carry stuff from your wagon to your door,” Nan said. “That’ll lighten your load.”

      Before Sunny could speak, Mr. Fitzhugh began to play a merry tune, the kind that beckoned clapping. Sunny hadn’t heard music for so long. She had loved to dance in the saloon—it was the only fun she’d ever had there—and she was a good dancer. But Quakers didn’t dance.

      Dawn again wriggled to be put down. Sunny obliged and then tapped her toe to the cadence and couldn’t stop her smile from widening.

      Dawn stared at the violin, distracted from her fussing. Noah bent down and swung her up into his arms and Sunny’s heart skipped a beat. Noah held Dawn by her waist and swung her gently back and forth to the tune. Dawn squealed with laughter. Then Sunny reached over and showed Dawn how to clap her hands. The three of them together, like a happy family. It was like a moment sent from Heaven.

      But of course the song ended. Everyone clapped for Charles’s fiddling, shook hands and the two couples started to leave. Just as Sunny was relaxing her guard, Nan turned and asked, “Have you and the mister decided whether you’re comin’ to meetin’ this Sunday?”

      Sunny’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been meaning to discuss that with Noah,” she managed to say.

      “Meeting?” Noah looked askance.

      “Yes, we got a preacher, a real nice old one who’s come to live with his son’s family in his declining years,” Nan explained. “He’s preachin’ at ten o’clock in front of the general store.”

      “Can we pick you up in our wagon?” Mr. Fitzhugh invited. “We’ll be passing right by your place. Even though I’m thinking we’ll be heading to Kansas soon, I wouldn’t want to miss preaching.”

      Sunny waited to see what her husband would say. She didn’t meet his eye—she couldn’t.

      “I’ll think on it,” Noah said at last.

      The other two couples tried to hide their surprise at Noah’s less than enthusiastic response.

      “I don’t think he’ll be preachin’ anything that would go against you being a Quaker,” Nan said.

      Sunny’s face burned. She knew she’d done the wrong thing by not telling Noah what she’d done.

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” Noah said, his jaw hardening.

      I’m in for it now. Sunny stood at her husband’s side and felt waves of sick worry wash over her. Dawn began fussing again, chewing one of her little fists. Sunny knew Noah wouldn’t raise a hand to her but he could freeze her with a glance. Oh, Lord, help me reach him. Help me make him understand why I told them that he’d been raised Quaker. Lord, I want to do what is right. Help me explain this to him.

      * * *

      Sunny couldn’t get Dawn to hush. Night had fallen and she’d tried everything in vain—nursing her, bathing her, rocking her. Now she paced the rough new floor. What could she do to soothe her child?

      As she paced, she scanned her new and very empty home. Earlier Noah had helped her arrange pegs in the wall to hang clothing and pots and pans. The only furniture was the rocking chair that the Gabriels had given them money to buy as a wedding present, a three-legged stool and a chest near the door which held their linens.

      Her bedroll sat against the wall. Noah had put his up in the loft. Their continued nightly separation was a constant twinge in her side. Would he never forget that she was damaged goods?

      Noah entered the cabin. Since the two couples had left, he had not said a complete sentence to her. Sunny wished Dawn would stop crying—the incessant sound had tightened her nerves like a spring. Sunny sat down and tried again to get Dawn to nurse so she would fall asleep as usual.

      Noah stood watching Dawn fight Sunny.

      “I’m sorry,” Sunny apologized. “I think it’s her mouth. She wants to nurse but I think it hurts her.” As she tried to soothe the inconsolable baby, Sunny felt like crying herself.