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@savannah_grace2009 @hybridlore @vinagirl
OK, this segment is basically the farthest I’ve gotten in the story so far. Lmk if you have any suggestions for things that could happen from here on out!
That summer marked the beginning of a new season for me as Albert and I formally entered into a courtship. Albert walked me home from church nearly every Sunday, and Chester’s idea came to fruition as we began picnicking together Sunday afternoons. Chester and Albert began talking more openly about their land and how their crops were coming along. Albert didn’t say much to me about his plans to build a home or even about marriage yet.
It had been such a dry year, I didn’t think a single farmer in the area had gotten a good crop. James had built his own shanty, and Abe had moved in with him, both hiring themselves out to the farmers, but with the crop failure, earning money was a struggle. I knew James wanted to buy his own land just as Albert had done, but he didn’t have a girl he was seeing, so it didn’t matter quite so much if he didn’t have his own property yet.
It was a hot afternoon in September when James walked in the door with an urgent pace.
“I just came from town,” he said. “Clara’s time has come. She’d like it if you were there, Mama, for support.”
Mama dropped what she was doing, and I helped her gather a few things from around the house before we got in the wagon and James drove us into town.
Hours later, Luella Hawley came into the world. I was proud of my sister and in love with my little niece.
The winter of ’87-’88 was my first term as a schoolteacher. I was nervous about the new job- the idea of keeping children in line all day made my stomach quiver. But I wanted the pay; I knew Mama wanted that kitchen Pa still hadn’t been able to build for her, and James and Abe wanted to buy land for themselves so they could start farming. Secretly, I also wanted to save some to put towards that house Albert wanted to build me. I hadn’t given him so much as a hint to my thoughts; something in me wanted to wait just a little longer before bringing up marriage. Although he’d stated his intentions of marriage in the past, Albert hadn’t formally asked for my hand yet.
Most days, teaching school went smoothly. I fell in love with the children, and most of them loved me in return. It made things much easier for me when they listened because they respected me. There were a few of the older boys who got cocky with me; I remembered some of them from when I was still in school and they were just in the beginner grades.
The biggest challenge was the cold. It was a bitterly cold winter, and we had several snows already before Christmas. Mattie was the only one of the Cullivers still in school, so she often came with me. More often than not, Albert adopted the habit of driving out to pick us up in the wagon, thus cutting down on the amount of time we spent out in the cold air. He wasn’t doing anything in his shanty over the winter, he said, aside from spending a good deal of time carving blocks of wood into chairs, but he often brought that in the wagon with him and sat in the tavern carving while we were in the schoolhouse.
Every morning when we arrived, Albert helped me build a fire in the woodstove and break the ice on top of the water bucket. The schoolhouse didn’t warm up much by the time the children arrived, so most remained in whatever coats or warm garments they came in, and we began the school day. I had them take frequent breaks to warm their hands by the fire, and usually by the end of the day, the small building retained a little bit of heat.
In January of 1888, Albert dropped me and Mattie off at the schoolhouse as usual and kindled the fire for us. In spite of the milder temperatures, the sky was heavy and gray, and Albert glanced out the window with concern.
“It looks like it’s about to storm,” he said. “It feels like a blizzard is coming.”
I frowned as I joined him by the window. “I hope not,” I said. “I wouldn’t want any of the children to get stranded on their way to school.”
“Maybe the ones who live farthest will stay home today,” Albert suggested hopefully. “I’ll keep my eye on it and come fetch you if need be.” With that, he was off to the tavern for another day of carving whatever he’d hidden under the blanket in the back of the wagon.
The first flurries began to fall just as I rang the bell to call the children inside. Albert was right; more children were absent today than usual. I hated to send the children home as soon as they arrived, but I was afraid of a storm. Perhaps it would just be a few flurries, and I really had nothing to worry about.
We got through the morning, had recess, and then assembled again for classes. This is when the snow began to fall heavier.
“School is dismissed,” I announced. “Please hurry getting home. It looks like the storm is getting worse.”
No sooner had the children scrambled to their feet, than footsteps sounded from the entry. Albert, followed by two of the fathers of the children, entered the room.
“I can take a number of children in my wagon out the direction of the Clydes’,” Mr. Kingman volunteered.
“And I can take children out as far as the Haldemans’ place,” Mr. Finch added. We split some of the children up between them and sent the rest out to get home as fast as possible. Albert put out the fire in the woodstove and turned to me and Mattie.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I should have thought to bring the sled instead of the wagon. If we leave now we should be able to make it home before the snow gets too deep.”
“Let’s go,” I agreed. Albert led the way to the wagon, where he helped Mattie up onto the seat, and then me. Mattie squeezed between us where it was warmest, and Albert pulled a blanket up over us to keep it warm. The cold flakes stung my cheeks, and the wind whipped the white fluff around so hard it was difficult to see much ahead of us. The snow was covering the ground at an alarming rate.
“I hope all the children make it home,” I worried.
“Mr. Kingman and Mr. Finch are taking the children who live the farthest,” Albert said. “They should be fine.” But he stared straight ahead, his face tense, and I knew he was trying to convince himself as much as me.
About halfway home, I could no longer tell where the path was or what direction we were going. The snow was getting deeper, and I wondered how Albert could tell we were still on track to reach home.
“Are we going to get stranded, Albert?” Mattie spoke up, her voice muffled by the blanket.
“No, Mattie, we won’t get stranded,” Albert replied, but his eyes met mine for a brief moment and I saw the doubt. A cold lump of fear grew in the pit of my stomach.
Dear God, please let us reach shelter, I prayed silently. Even if it wasn’t my home, or the Culliver’s, or Albert’s shanty. Anything would do.
Suddenly, out of the white nothingness, a shadow appeared.
“Albert, what’s that?” I cried out, pointing to the dark lump.
“I do believe it’s a house,” Albert replied. “Can’t say whose, though.”
When we arrived, we found it to be the Perkins house. How we arrived at their place, I don’t know. We must have gotten off course. But I was grateful for shelter, and Chester’s parents gladly let us in. Chester lived in his own shanty now, but his younger sister Nettie was still at home.
Mattie, Albert, and I took off the wet outer garments and warmed up by the fire. Mrs. Perkins prepared hot tea for us, and later gave us a hot meal as well. We passed the time by sharing stories. I must say it was quite entertaining. I learned a little bit about Albert’s life before moving west, and shared some of my own memories. Together we reminisced about the days on the trail, and the Perkinses talked about life in St. Louis, where they had lived prior to moving to Nebraska.
When the time came to go to sleep, Mrs. Perkins gave Albert Chester’s old bed, and Mattie and I squeezed in with Nettie. It was tight, but warm.
The next morning when we woke up, the wind was still howling, and snow was still piling up. Mrs. Perkins prepared a hearty breakfast of oatmeal, and then we began another morning of sitting in the cabin. Albert had brought his knife and wood inside to carve, and Mrs. Perkins settled in with her sewing. She gave me and Mattie some fabric to work with, too, to keep our hands busy.
“What are you working on, Albert?” I ventured to ask. He gave me a quick glance but didn’t pause his calculated motions.
“A chair,” was his brief reply.
“Furnishing a house?” Mr. Perkins inquired.
“I don’t have a house yet,” Albert replied. “But I figured I can start small with a few chairs and a table. That fits in the shanty for now.” I sneaked another glance at Albert out of the corner of my eye, and saw that he had stopped what he was doing to watch me. I sensed that there was a depth of dreams he had about a future with me that he wasn’t telling anyone, but he seemed to be watching me to gauge my reaction. I smiled at him, hoping to communicate without words that I wanted a future with him just as he did with me. He smiled back, and returned to his work.
Later that afternoon, the wind finally stopped, and we looked out, surprised to see that there wasn’t even that much snow. For all the wind and the howling and the freezing cold, I thought there would be at least two feet.
Albert went out to the barn and hitched up the wagon. Mrs. Perkins heated up potatoes to tuck into our pockets for warmth, and then we set out. Albert dropped Mattie off first, and then me, bidding farewell as he turned the wagon towards his land.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
😆😆😆 that’s awesome! Very very good! I can’t wait for the next update!
And I’m trying to think of suggestions but I’m having a hard time.(I’m afraid I’m not very good at giving suggestions 😅🤣) Do you know how you want to end it?
#LALBERT
I loved it! (As always)
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333@vinagirl maybe #LIBERT?
@trailblazer Looks good! Excited for the next part!"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
I’m not entirely sure how I want to close out the story. At this point I know they’re gonna get married but I don’t know if I want to try to add another conflict in there or something or just wrap it up. I also don’t think weddings were the same back then; I think they were usually more of a quiet family celebration but I haven’t figured out yet how to write that kind of a scene.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
I’m just waiting for Albert to PROPOSE!!!! AHHH the suspense is KILLING ME!
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333I’m sorry I don’t have that scene written yet or I would post it lol. I need to find a good way to write it so that it’s sweet and meaningful.
"Real love is for your good, not for your comfort." -Justin Whitmel Earley
It’s okay, haha!
#Lalbert
#Albie
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333
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