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Me too XD and a new teacher, yay! I’m excited to see what happens next 😁
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
@hybridlore @savannah_grace2009
I think you guys will like this section… it’s one of my favorites because it has more action in it.
Several weeks later was Independence Day. There was no school, and our whole family dressed in our Sunday clothes and drove into town on the wagon to join in the celebration. The day kicked off just outside the town, where families spread out picnic blankets on the ground. Celebrations started with the firing of pistols, and then Reverend Bradshaw stood up to read the Declaration of Independence. Everyone ate picnic lunches together, and then there was patriotic music played. Many of the young adults and a few of the older folks got to dancing, and Mr. Harrison’s general store was selling firecrackers.
“Come on, Abe, let’s go get some firecrackers.” I hadn’t even noticed Albert approaching our picnic blanket. Etta stood behind him with Oscar and Mattie.
Abe cast a quick glance at Mama and Pa. Clara’s face with pink, and she fanned herself with a piece of paper, looking miserable. James had already found a couple other young men to talk to. Pa dug down into his pocket and withdrew a few coins.
“Buy your sister some candy, too,” he said. “And don’t set the firecrackers off near the horses. It’ll spook them.”
“Oh, thanks, Pa!” Abe gratefully exclaimed, his face lighting up as he took the coins. I scrambled to my feet and followed as the boys took off in the direction of the general store. When we reached the general store, the boys selected firecrackers, and then Albert turned to the rest of us.
“What kind of candy do you girls want?”
I chose the lemon drops, but Etta and Mattie went for the peppermint sticks. I wasted no time in popping one of the sweet and sour candies in my mouth, savoring the tangy flavor. As we stepped out of the store, Oscar spotted some of his friends down by the livery stable looking at the horses and took off. Etta, Mattie, and I followed our brothers back towards the crowd of lively picnickers. The boys began pulling out the firecrackers, ready to throw them down the street away from the frolickers. Suddenly there was a commotion from down the street as firecrackers snapped and popped, and then loud whinnying sounded from the livery stable. A wild-eyed chestnut mare came galloping down the center of the street, straight towards the crowd of people. Two of the stable boys were running as fast as their legs could go, trying to catch the runaway mare. The hat of the one boy flew off, but he didn’t bother to stop and pick it up. The music stopped, and several men immediately tried to intercept the horse. Frantic mothers scooped up their young children to move to safety.
Scarcely had the men caught the horse and were trying to settle it, than the cry from down the street at the livery rang out: “Fire!” Wisps of smoke were beginning to rise, and flames licked the side of the stables. Men began running towards the scene in an effort to get all the horses out before the flames took over. The entire town turned to chaos as other people ran into their homes to gather buckets and washtubs and anything else that could hold water. Still others ran to the pumps, and as soon as someone handed them a bucket, began pumping.
“Oscar!” Etta cried out beside me. “Where is he?” Albert tore off in the direction of the livery stable in search of his brother.
“Every able-bodied person is needed! Create a bucket brigade!” The large Mr. Winters bellowed the call for assistance.
“Go back to Mama,” Etta urged Mattie.
“I’m scared!” Mattie’s wide blue eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t be a baby,” Etta complained. “Go back to Mama. You’ll be safe with her.” She gave her sister a shove, and Mattie took off running towards the picnic blankets. Abe and Etta and I joined the line from one of the pumps to the fire, passing full buckets towards the stable and empty buckets back towards the pump.
After about thirty minutes, the fire was out. All of the horses were safe, and the stables weren’t lost. One side of the building was damaged though, and would have to be repaired. I still hadn’t seen Albert or Oscar. After the ordeal was over, everyone convened at the picnic area. Albert and Oscar finally showed up, covered in sweat from head to toe. Oscar had soot smudges on his face.
“Oscar!” Etta breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened?”
“Me and Peter were throwing firecrackers down by the stables and I guess it spooked the horses. Then the mare got free and took off down the street, and Peter stepped on a firecracker he’d dropped by mistake and it went off. I guess there was some hay right there and it started to catch fire. Before we knew it the whole wall was up in flames,” Oscar relayed, hanging his head in shame. “Pa, am I going to get a licking?”
“No, son, I think you’ve been punished enough for what you’ve done,” Mr. Culliver said, but his face was taut. “But promise me you’ll never, ever throw firecrackers near the horses or near any buildings again. It was very dangerous, and you could’ve been badly hurt.”
“I won’t do it again,” Oscar promised. Amelia drew her son into her arms.
“I’m just thankful you’re not hurt,” she said.
Our fourth of July celebrations were somewhat dampened after that. Reverend Bradshaw led the town in a prayer of gratitude to God for sparing the horses and helping the fire to be put out quickly. The band struck up some music again, but the whole crowd was much more subdued. Some families began leaving, worn out from fighting the fire.
“It’s miserably hot out,” Clara complained. “Can we go home, too?”
I wasn’t going to fight her. My Sunday dress was damp with sweat, and my hair was flying free of its formerly neat braids. The rest of my family didn’t look much better, so we packed up and turned the wagon towards home.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
Me too! This is really giving me Little House on the Praire vibes, but I think I like yours better than those books.
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
@hybridlore I went through a huge Little House phase when I was in elementary school, so it doesn’t surprise me that this reminds you of it lol.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
Oh my gosh…my Little House phase lasted like three years! I would always wear my hair in two braids, and a dress (mainly one that my grandma made for me that looked exactly like something Laura would wear). I would even try to walk like Laura and hum the intro to the Little House movies!
It was really bad, lol
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333@savannah_grace2009 Oh girl, that sounds like me! The braids all the way… and I had a bonnet, but unfortunately no dress. I used to create forts with bedsheets and pretend I was in a covered wagon lol.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
I had a bonnet too!!!
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333@savannah_grace2009 @hybridlore
Here is a little more….
A few weeks later, I was perched on a hard wooden pew listening to one of Reverend Bradshaw’s sermons on the mercy of God. Clara was seated next to me, her fingers playing with the handkerchief in her lap.
“Rise for the closing hymn,” Reverend Bradshaw directed. We rose, and as throats cleared and feet shuffled, Clara leaned close to my ear.
“Who is that young man who came in with Doctor Richardson?” she whispered. I glanced across the room to where a well-groomed young man stood next to the doctor.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Perhaps a nephew?”
“He’s very handsome,” Clara returned. “Don’t you agree?”
“Do you want me to agree?” I asked as the opening lines of the hymn began. Clara blushed.
“He’s at least ten years older than you are,” she said. “I suppose you wouldn’t be thinking of courting someone with that age gap at this stage of your life.”
“That would make him what, three years older than you?” I hoped my whisper carried enough of a tease to get my point across to Clara.
Mama glanced at us just then, raising an eyebrow in warning. Clara and I both turned our attention to the front and joined in the singing. Clara was seven years older than I, so we didn’t usually discuss such matters. Back in Pennsylvania, Clara had been caught up in her own world with her beau, and after their break-up, she became moody. The most she talked to me was to complain about how I stole the quilts or did something she deemed “improper” for a young lady. Ever since we’d moved to Nebraska, her attitude hadn’t seemed to improve. Mama put her in her place every time she complained about the difficulties we faced, but whenever Mama wasn’t there, Clara would vent to me about how much she wanted to go home to Pennsylvania and find herself a man who would give her a house that didn’t leak.
At the end of the hymn, Reverend Bradshaw closed the service, and took his place by the door to shake hands with every church member leaving.
“An outstanding sermon, Reverend, outstanding,” I overheard Miss Werner congratulating the reverend. Miss Werner was a tiny older woman who I had quickly learned was the gossip of the town. She ran the post, with the help of her niece, Henrietta, and the two of them knew all the tea there was to be found within twenty miles. Miss Werner said the same thing to the reverend every Sunday, whether
his sermon had been outstanding or not. I wondered whether she heard any of it or spent the whole service surveying who was in attendance and making assumptions about their lives.
Politely, I shook the reverend’s hand and thanked him as I filed out of the church behind Clara. Clara halted just at the top of the stairs, staring down across the churchyard to where Dr. Richardson was standing and talking to the Keiths. The young man Clara had been eyeing in church stood next to them, too, but Clara’s abrupt stop nearly caused me to crash into her.
“Clara! Keep going! I nearly toppled into you.” I prodded her back with my finger.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, stumbling down the steps. I knew it would be at least fifteen minutes before we began the walk home. Mama was already chatting with Mrs. Kreider, who had followed our family out of the church. As the Keiths began walking down the street toward their home, Pa made his way over to Dr. Richardson. Clara quickly fell into step behind him, and I wasn’t about to miss any of this, so I tagged along.
“How you do you, Dr. Richardson?” Pa asked politely, shaking the doctor’s hand.
“Doing well, and you?”
“Just fine,” Pa replied.
“Allow me to introduce to you my new apprentice,” Dr. Richardson said, gesturing to Clara’s handsome young man. “Bert Hawley. He just finished college in Chicago and followed God’s call here to gain more hands-on practice.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Hawley,” Pa said, stretching out his hand. “I’m Frederick Hopkins.”
“Pleased to meet you as well,” Dr. Hawley smiled. “And who are these fair young ladies I have the pleasure of addressing?” He turned his gaze towards Clara and me. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought his gaze lingered on Clara longer than usual.
“These are my daughters, Clara and Libbie.” Pa’s voice held a hint of pride, and when I saw his smile, I fairly glowed in the love that emanated.
“How do you do,” Clara said politely.
Pa made small talk with the doctors until he noticed George idling in the background.
“Well, it’s high time we get the family home for Sunday dinner,” Pa excused us. “I hope to see more of you, Dr. Hawley. We’re mighty pleased to have another doctor around here.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Hawley replied. “I look forward to seeing you and your family around. Have a good day, ladies,” he added to me and Clara.
We pulled Mama away from her conversation and began the two mile walk home.
“His smile makes me want to melt,” Clara sighed as we trailed behind the rest of the family.
“Maybe you have a chance with him,” I encouraged her. “He seems like a gentleman.”
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
Sorry I never replied to this, but I still read it! I like where it’s going, lol. It’ll be interesting to see if Clara finds a husband XD
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
@hybridlore @savannah_grace2009
Let me know if anything in this section sounds strange or unrealistic. Some parts feel a little awkward to me, and I want to know if it feels that way to other readers or if it’s just me.
In early September, the first cornshucking of the season took place. Mama had finally agreed that I was old enough to go, and I eagerly rode along with Clara, James, and Abe. Clara usually didn’t bother with cornshuckings, but this time she went, and I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with Bert Hawley. Sure enough, he was there, looking slightly out-of-place as a young gentleman from Chicago now on the frontier.
The corn was piled high in two piles on the floor of the Wilkins’ barn. As I looked around at all the arrivals, it occurred to me for the first time that Etta wouldn’t be there, since she was a year younger than I. Lillian was there; her family was hosting. But she was friends with Jennie and the other girls. It looked like I’d be tagging along with Clara all night.
“Hey, look who showed up.” I felt the familiar tug at my braid and knew instinctively Albert was behind me. I turned to flash him an annoyed look, and swung my braid away.
“We’ll see who gets a red ear tonight,” Albert hinted, a glint in his eye.
“Albert Culliver,” I stated hotly, “I may be helping to husk, but I am NOT going to kiss you. You’re crazy if you think I would let you!” The very idea made my stomach turn, and I began to wish I had stayed home.
Two of the older bachelors were chosen as the team captains, and everyone was split into two teams.
“Everyone ready?” Josiah Deshner called out. “Let’s see who wins!”
To my relief, Albert was on the opposing team, as were both Clara and Bert Hawley. I chuckled to watch my sister so nervous. The race began, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen so many corn husks fly in my life! Jeers were tossed back and forth from team to team: “Our pile is getting shorter! Might want to hurry it up a bit!” “Look who’s falling behind now!” “Now who’s the slowpoke?”
My team was approaching the bottom of our pile when a cry went up from the opposing team. Poor Bert Hawley had opened a red ear of corn, and his face turned to match the color of the cob. He barely knew any of the girls, yet he was expected to kiss one of them.
“Just choose a girl!” Josiah urged. With two strides, Bert stood next to Clara and gave her a quick peck on the lips. A look of utter shock registered on my sister’s face, and her cheeks turned as pink as roses in June. Bert pulled back, quickly putting a distance between himself and Clara. Clara took a seat on a hay bale and covered her flushed cheeks with her hands, as though hiding them would help. A couple of the guys chuckled and elbowed each other, but attention was quickly diverted back to the contest.
A short time later, every last ear from my team was husked. Whoops of celebration rose up from our team. It was time for the dinner, and some older adults had been preparing the meal while the husking took place. Squirrel stew, johnny-cakes, and baked eggplant were just a few of the dishes served.
As I was taking a plate of food to a seat next to Clara, Bert approached, his face still tinted pink.
“I apologize if I imposed myself on you, Miss Hopkins,” he said bashfully. “I confess I was not anticipating encountering a red ear of corn tonight, nor do I know many young women in these parts. I hope I do not come across as undignified.”
“It’s quite all right, Dr. Hawley,” Clara replied, giving him a sweet smile. “I was simply caught off guard, is all.” Apparently she had recovered.
“Would you save a dance for me tonight?” Bert ventured to ask.
“Of course!” Clara couldn’t hide the pleasure on her face.
“I look forward to it,” Bert said, giving a nod and walking off to find some company to sit with. Clara turned to me, her eyes sparkling.
“Did you hear that, Libbie? He just asked me to dance with him tonight!”
“I heard,” I replied dryly. I couldn’t help but wonder if my sister would have her heart broken again, or if Dr. Hawley would prove to be the man of her dreams.
Once the food was devoured, Josiah brought out his fiddle. As the first few notes of music filtered through the barn, the boys hurried to clear the floor, and then promptly snagged young ladies to dance with them. I stood on the sidelines, watching the dancing. Clara and Bert Hawley were caught up in the fray. One dance with Dr. Hawley turned into two, and two into three, and Clara was having the time of her life.
“Your sister’s really taken with Dr. Hawley.” I turned to see Lillian beside me. For once she’d forsaken her group of friends, and I was surprised she’d sought me out. I noticed Jennie dancing with one of the boys from the livery stable, but the other girls from town weren’t in sight.
“Yeah, she is,” I replied. “Apparently he’s growing sweet on her, too.”
At that moment, the fiddler struck up a lively tune, and Lillian grabbed my hand, pulling me out onto the dance floor. Again, I was surprised, but we spun and twirled together, laughing and having a good time. Finally we collapsed on the hay, gasping for breath between bouts of laughter. Wisps of hair untucked themselves from the previously neat braid I’d had.
My laughter mellowed out when I saw Albert nearby, and he caught my eye. He had a hand behind his back, and his eyes held a mischievous look.
“What are you up to, Albert?” I asked suspiciously.
“Look what I found,” he said, revealing a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Albert Culliver! Your pa will tan your hide!”
Albert took a swig of the whiskey, and immediately his face screwed up in disgust. Turning his head aside, he spit it out into the hay. One of the older boys snorted as he observed Albert’s reaction.
“You’ve never had a drink before, have you?” he chortled. Albert thrust the bottle of whiskey into the boy’s hand.
“That stuff’s horrid!” Albert exclaimed. “How can anyone drink that?”
“Serves you right,” I muttered. “I hope you learned your lesson.”
“I should go,” Lillian said. “See ya around, Libbie.”
“See ya.” I was disappointed to watch her head back to her friends, but what did I expect? Yet, a tiny seed of hope was planted in the soil of my heart. Perhaps I would be able to make another friend in Big Deer, Nebraska.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
Nope, I think it’s just you XD I didn’t notice anything seeming weird, except I didn’t understand when Albert said, “We’ll see who gets the red ear of corn tonight!” until Dr. Hawley opened it. Anyway, I like Clara and him together so far!
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
@hybridlore Yeah I should probably clarify that. If you’re not aware of that tradition it definitely wouldn’t make sense. Thanks for pointing it out!
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
I added a little to this part. Does this sound good?
“We’ll see who gets a red ear tonight,” Albert hinted, a glint in his eye. My skin prickled at the mention of the tradition well known in these parts of the country- any boy who happened to open a red ear of corn got to kiss his sweetheart.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
Yeah, I think so! Just might make it a little easier to understand XD I mean, in hindsight, they were at a corn shucking thing. I should’ve known they were talking about CORN ears XXD
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
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