Frontier Father by Dorothy Clark

Author:Dorothy Clark
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2011-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

Anne hung the small nightgown and the blanket Mitchel had given her over the edge of the chest, filled a pillowcase with the rest of their supplies and carried it to the chair sitting close to the top of the stairs. The crock of ointment, the leather pokes of cap and ball for the pistol hit the chair seat with a dull thunk. She draped a petticoat over the pillowcase and strode to her bed.

Not again, God. Not again. The words echoed in her head, replacing fear with determination. She yanked back her covers and sheet, grabbed the scissors from the sewing box she’d taken from the chest and cut along the edge of the India-rubber sack that had protected her mattress from any water that might flood into the wagon while fording rivers on the way across the country.

She cast a glance at the window, furious at the idea that there were Indian braves out there watching the mission. They could not see in the small upstairs window, but they could see her light, and Mitchel said they must go on as usual. She frowned, folded the large, flat piece of India-rubber sheeting she’d cut free, laid it on the stool beside the chimney and remade her bed. She could not cover the window, but she refused to snuff the lamp. How could she sew without light?

She bent to adjust the edge of the coverlet, stared at the dark area beneath the bed, straightened. If she cleaned off the washstand and pulled it a bit closer, sat the chair at the other end of the bed, at the same distance away, then stretched the coverlet between them and the bed…

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