A Season of Harvest, page 1
Books by Lauraine Snelling
LEAH’S GARDEN
The Seeds of Change
A Time to Bloom
Fields of Bounty
A Season of Harvest
UNDER NORTHERN SKIES
The Promise of Dawn
A Breath of Hope
A Season of Grace
A Song of Joy
SONG OF BLESSING
To Everything a Season
A Harvest of Hope
Streams of Mercy
From This Day Forward
RED RIVER OF THE NORTH
An Untamed Land
A New Day Rising
A Land to Call Home
The Reapers’ Song
Tender Mercies
Blessing in Disguise
RETURN TO RED RIVER
A Dream to Follow
Believing the Dream
More Than a Dream
DAUGHTERS OF BLESSING
A Promise for Ellie
Sophie’s Dilemma
A Touch of Grace
Rebecca’s Reward
HOME TO BLESSING
A Measure of Mercy
No Distance Too Far
A Heart for Home
WILD WEST WIND
Valley of Dreams
Whispers in the Wind
A Place to Belong
DAKOTAH TREASURES
Ruby • Pearl
Opal • Amethyst
SECRET REFUGE
Daughter of Twin Oaks
Sisters of the Confederacy
The Long Way Home
———
A Blessing to Cherish
An Untamed Heart
© 2024 by Lauraine Snelling
Published by Bethany House Publishers
Minneapolis, Minnesota
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Ebook edition created 2024
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-4363-5
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Published in association with Books & Such Literary Management, www.booksandsuch.com
Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and post-consumer waste whenever possible.
To Wendy Lawton
Wendy is one of the most creative
people I know, in so many ways.
Her marvelous business sense is put
to good use as an agent,
where she blesses us all through
her skills and encouragement.
The LEAH’S GARDEN series would not be
what it is without Wendy.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Lauraine Snelling
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Epilogue
About the Authors
Back Ads
Cover Flaps
Back Cover
Larkspur
The name larkspur first appeared in a sixteenth-century book of plants, and it references the flower’s resemblance to the claw of a lark. A relative of delphinium, larkspur adds grace to summer gardens with its airy blue spires.
Larkspur attracts hummingbirds and butterflies and is a hardy, self-seeding annual. Traditionally, larkspur symbolizes an open heart, a positive spirit, and strong bonds of love.
1
SALTON, NEBRASKA
JUNE 1868
“Make sure you send me a telegram when you get to Linksburg.”
“Larkspur Grace Neilsen, what has come over you?” Lilac stared, or, more accurately, glared, at her sister. “You’re not usually such a fussy mother hen.”
“I’ve not sent my baby sister off on a train alone before.” Lark forced a smile that used her mouth but didn’t make it to her eyes. With a half shrug, she added, “Not that this is an everyday occurrence. You have your basket of food?”
Lilac nodded and looked toward the train engine when the whistle blew.
“Ah’ll watch out for her, Miss Lark. Don’ you go worryin’ ’bout her,” Arthur Palmer, a conductor who had been with the railroad ever since it came through Salton, reassured her. Jonah, their younger brother, often swapped stories with him.
“Thank you, Mr. Palmer. Jonah said you were the best part of his last trip and that you have more stories than a library.”
“Thank ’ee, ma’am.” He held out his hand to help Lilac aboard. “Don’ want to get left at the station.”
Lark hugged her sister one more time and stepped back, waving as soon as she saw Lilac seating herself by a window. Palmer swung the iron steps back up on the train and stepped aboard. He leaned out the open door and waved to the engineer that all was well.
Sniffing and failing at blinking the tears back, Lark waved until the train disappeared over the horizon and she was the only one still on the platform.
Prince, her favorite of the team, snorted from the hitching rail.
Lark walked back to him and patted his gray neck. “Getting impatient, eh? Sorry.”
She unsnapped the lead line from the railing and climbed up in the trap. “You can have a drink at Sythia’s.”
In her mind, she ran through her list of things to do today till they pulled up at the Brownsville house. At the water tank near the windmill, Prince drank until he heard Robbie calling. He raised his head, letting water drip from his lips back into the tank. Laughing, Lark turned him around to the hitching rail.
“I thought you forgot me!” Robbie, who seemed to grow an inch between the times Lark saw him, stroked Prince’s nose and discreetly slipped him a cookie. The crunching was a noisy giveaway.
“What would your ma say?”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Uh, have another cookie?” He patted Prince as he flipped the lead over the rail.
Half giggling, Lark climbed down in time to be broadsided by a hug. “I said I would be back after Lilac left on the train.”
“I know. I have my things all ready. Do I really get to stay until Saturday?”
“Or maybe Sunday so we don’t have to make another trip to town.” She lifted a basket of eggs from behind the seat on the trap. “Where’s Sofie?”
“Taking a nap. Ma said she was being a grump.” Together they climbed the steps to the back door.
Robbie put his forefinger to his lips. “Shhh, don’t want to wake Grump.”
“And Mikael?”
“Napping, and Ma is feeding Nils Peter.”
Lark set the basket of eggs on the table and followed Robbie into the parlor, where her sister Forsythia was just buttoning up her bodice with the baby now lying sound asleep on the sofa beside her. She and Robbie each carried in a chair to use as a barrier so Nils didn’t fall off.
“He sure is growing fast.” Lark gazed down at the infant sleeping with one little fist against his cheek.
“He should be. I have to be careful not to call him a little pig because Sofie keeps reminding me he is not a pig but a baby. Even if he eats and grows as fast as a piglet. He even snorts when he nurses.” Forsythia stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “You have time for coffee?”
Lark glanced at Robbie, whose happy face had sunk into unhappy. “I would love some, but I hear the hoes calling our names. Del is probably already out hoeing. I warned her to be careful, but you know how little good that does. Think she knows she’s due to have a baby soon?”
“Perhaps she’s related to someone else we know.” Forsythia’s eyebrows arched. She reached down and hugged her eldest son. “Now, I know you’ll be so busy you have no time to think of home, but we shall miss you and see you on Sunday.”
“I could stay longer,” he offered. “They really need help at the farm.”
“I know they do, but you are needed here too. Sofie and Mikael both depend on you.”
He huffed a sigh and picked up his bag, giving Lark a plaintive please let’s go look. “I’ll put this in the trap.”
“He’s right, you know, about us needing help at the farm,” Lark said. “Have you found someone to help you here?”
“Tilda, though I sent her over to help Climie for a while. Robbie’s been over hoeing the boardinghouse garden too. He and Klaus really hit it off and have been helping together when his mother brings him along. Why do you suppose it is always more fun to help others than do the same work at home?”
“Human child trait? Right now our garden is in pretty good shape.”
The sisters hugged, and Lark waved good-bye as she joined Robbie at the trap. “We have supplies to pick up at the mercantile, then Del will have dinner ready for us.”
Robbie climbed in with a sigh. When they stopped at the shaded side of the store, he knotted the lead over the hitching bar.
“Thank you.” Lark ruffled his hair. This boy sure was growing up.
Lark had left a list on her way to the train station, so they had all her supplies ready and loaded in no time. They both climbed into the trap, and Lark turned Prince toward home.
“Lilac left on the train, huh? Were you scared?” Robbie asked.
Lark thought a moment. He was mighty perceptive for so young a boy. “No, not scared, more sad, I think. I miss her already.”
“Me too. But I can do most of her chores.”
Ah, Robbie, if you only knew. His coming out to the farm was indeed a godsend. She would not be all alone. She’d been dreading that when Lilac was getting ready to marry Rev. Pritchard last spring. She was ashamed she’d felt such relief when her sister broke off the engagement. But after helping their older brother, Anders, reopen the family mercantile back in Ohio, Lilac would be returning in a few weeks. Their younger brother, Jonah, with her.
“Look, Scamp is coming to meet us.” Robbie pointed ahead with a grin. “Did you tell him I was coming?”
“I might have. We’ll take the supplies to the barn and the house and you can let Prince out in the field.”
Scamp jumped up into the trap and onto Robbie’s lap before he could get down, making the boy giggle and Lark shake her head. She retrieved the supplies for the house and motioned Robbie to lead the horse down to the barn. With the trap emptied, she lifted off the harness, and Robbie took Prince to the pasture gate. Starbright and Rose waited at the fence, the mare whuffling her welcome to her favorite boy. He dug two cookies out of his pocket and gave one to each.
“Watch your fingers. Rose forgets to be careful at times.”
Robbie nodded and scratched Starbright’s nose and ears.
Scamp woofed when they heard the clang of Del’s triangle, letting them know dinner was ready.
“Race you.” Robbie tore off past the house and on to Del’s, Scamp yipping around his feet.
Lark laughed as she followed them. Robbie had healed so much since he became part of their family. To God be the glory, that was for sure.
Del grinned at Lark while hugging Robbie, the bulk of her belly between them. “I was beginning to think you forgot the way home.”
“No chance, Robbie would have taken over.” She set her straw hat on the hat rack and washed her hands at the sink. “Oh my, but it smells good in here. What are you making?”
“Rabbit stew thanks to Lilac’s trapping skills.”
Robbie pushed his chair closer to the table. “I can check them for you tomorrow. Tante Lilac taught me how to trap too.”
“Aren’t you kinda young for that?” Del stared at him as she set his plate down.
Robbie shrugged. “Tante Lilac said I could do so. Scamp’ll go with me.”
The two sisters swapped looks and bowed their heads.
“Thank you, Jesus for food, for fun, and help me ’n’ Scamp trap rabbits. Amen. Oh, and, Lord, please make Sofie not such a grump.” Robbie opened his eyes and grinned. “Tante Del, you made fried bread. That’s my favorite.”
“I know.” She took the basket from the warming oven and set it on the table.
“And you made syrup for dunking.” He took a piece from the basket and started to dunk it in the syrup but stopped. “All together.” Laughing, they all dunked and popped the treats into their mouths. Robbie’s chortling was contagious.
As soon as they were done eating, Robbie slid off his chair, thanking Del as he set his plate in the dishpan on the reservoir. “Are the hoes in the garden?”
“Hooked over the fence,” Del said. “You can start where I stopped there in the carrots.”
“I will” trailed over his shoulder as he charged out the door.
Lark shrugged. “He takes gardening seriously.”
“What about him out trapping? Could you go with him just to ease my mind?”
“I will.”
Del soused her plate in the soapy hot water. “I’ll take care of this, you go on outside. I’ll join you soon.”
A couple of hours of weeding later, Lark sent Del inside to lie down for a while, and she and Robbie sat down in the shade with a swizzle. “I hope we don’t run out of vinegar to make this.” She hoisted her glass. “So refreshing.”
Robbie held up a cookie. “These too.”
“You can go play with Rose and the new calf while I water the garden. Be careful to lock the gate. Starbright has figured out how to open it.”
“Thank you.” Robbie slapped his thigh, and Scamp raced him to the farmhouse.
A few moments later, Starbright nickered a welcome, and Lark figured Robbie went to the barn and brought back oats in the can kept for scooping grain out of the bin. She hooked the hoe on the rail fence and, after pulling up a stem of grass to chew on, ambled down the path. She pumped water in the bucket at the windmill, which was silent with no wind.
“Come on, Rosie-Posie,” Robbie called, his special name for the filly. Lark watched as he ran out into the pasture. Starbright trotted after him, tossing her head and snorting, Rose by her side. Scamp ran circles around them, as if he were herding. He managed the flock of sheep, driving them back to the corral every evening as the sun slid toward the horizon.
The next day, after a morning of picking strawberries, Lark sent Robbie over to help Del wash and stem them at her house. She had a bigger kitchen, and it made a good excuse to get her sister to sit down for a while.
Meanwhile, Lark gathered nails, wire, and tools, then pulled on the men’s work gloves she’d ordered from the mercantile and strode out to the pasture. One corner of the fence had needed attention for a while. Examining the spot, she let out a whistle. The sheep must have been rubbing against it, several damaged boards had nearly come loose. Good thing she’d thought to do the mending now, or they’d have had escaped livestock to wrangle.
And how would I manage that without Lilac or Jonah? Del can’t chase sheep in her condition. Lark chuckled at the image that popped into her head. Now, that would be a picture Lilac would love to draw.
Lark found a few extra planks in the machine shed and settled to her task, falling into the rhythm of the familiar labor. She stripped away the rotten boards, assessed what could still be used, and cut the new planks to fit. After some time, she lifted her head at the sound of footsteps. Had RJ come home early?
No, that was Isaac McTavish’s rugged silhouette, ragged army uniform and all. Did the man intend to wear those clothes till they fell apart at the seams?
Lark stood to be seen above the tall grasses about her. “Hello, stranger.”
“Stranger is it, Miss Larkspur?” Isaac slipped off his cap, his movements as easy as the mountain cadence on his tongue. “Reckoned we’d got past that by now.”
“Well, one never quite knows whether you’re here for good or will be off on the next train.” Lark bit her tongue at the tease she heard in her own voice. Was she flirting with Isaac? Her neck heated at the thought.
But his face sobered. “Reckon I deserve that. But I aim to set a stop on my driftin’ ways. Start puttin’ down roots, as it were.”
“Really? Is some of your family still moving to Salton?” He’d said something about that last winter, but so much had happened since then.
He hesitated, turned his worn army cap in his hands, then met her gaze. “Among other things.”
Lark’s heart started pit-a-patting oddly, as if trying to beat its way up her throat. “What brings you out this way today?”
“Saw RJ in town. He said might be you could use some help out on the farm today with most of your family away.”
Was RJ trying to play matchmaker? Or did he just think she couldn’t handle things on her own? Lark frowned, oddly nettled, and bent back to the fence. “I’m fine.”
Isaac chuckled and hooked his hat over a sturdy post of the fence. “Easy now. Weren’t no one meanin’ you can’t handle this here farm on your own. Can’t abide any offers of help, is that it? Or only from me?”
