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.
“She is nice.” At least, Abram hoped she would be. Most of the experiences he’d had with the woman suggested otherwise. “Your mama often talked about how much she loved Aunt Charlotte.”
The baby, George, sat in a high chair next to the table. Susanne had never fully recovered after his birth, and the military doctor had suggested that her illness was somehow connected to birthing their youngest son. They would probably never know.
George also had blond hair, though his was darker than the other two boys, and his eyes were brown—like Susanne’s and Charlotte’s. He reached for the child and lifted him out of his chair, but George looked a bit uncertain. He remained stiff in Abram’s arms and looked at his teachers for reassurance.
“I’ll take the boys to meet their aunt and then we’ll go to the church,” Abram said to the teachers. “After the service, I’m taking the boys home with me for good.”
The teachers nodded. “That will be nice for all of you.” The one with blond hair glanced at Robert, a sense of relief on her face.
Abram took Robert’s hand on instinct and motioned for Martin to follow them into the parlor.
George reached toward Abram’s thick beard and tugged on it, as if he wanted it gone.
Grief gnawed at Abram’s gut as he thought of Susanne and how much he missed her. She would never see her sons grow, and wouldn’t be there to help him navigate through the difficult years ahead. The thought was almost too much for him to bear.
His little family walked over the threshold and into the parlor. Charlotte sat with Mrs. Ayers, but the moment they entered, she stood and clasped her hands together, bringing them to her mouth. For the first time since her arrival, a smile spread across her face and her entire countenance was transformed.
The gesture made Abram stop short.
She looked...beautiful, and not just on the surface. Something deep and lovely radiated from within her at the sight of the boys.
Charlotte knelt in front of them, looking over Robert and Martin as if trying to memorize every detail of their faces. “Hello. I’m your aunt Charlotte.”
Martin buried his face into Abram’s pant leg and Robert took a step closer to his side.
“Where are your manners, Martin?” Abram asked. “Say hello to your aunt.”
“Hello,” Martin said quietly.
“Hello,” Charlotte said. “Your mother told me all about you in her letters.”
“This is Robert.” Abram indicated his oldest son. He touched Robert’s shoulder, and when the boy looked up at him, Abram raised his hand and took Charlotte’s in a handshake.
Charlotte paused for a moment and Abram caught her look of surprise.
He swallowed. “I want him to learn his manners whether he can hear or not.”
Charlotte slowly removed her hand from Abram’s and extended it to Robert.
Robert looked at her offered hand and then shook his head and stepped behind Abram.
Charlotte lowered her hand. “I wish I could tell him who I am.” She paused. “Maybe I can.” She opened her reticule and took out a thin metal case.
Robert peeked from behind Abram and watched her closely.
Charlotte unlocked a clasp on the metal square and opened the object. It was a daguerreotype.