Page 1 of Her Gentle Protector
Chapter One
July 1873, Flat River Nebraska
“I’m hungry, Midge!”
“I know, Berry.” Midge Beale tapped a wooden spoon along the bottom of the pot and released one final scoop into her little sister’s bowl. Elderberry, or “Berry” for short, was only seven years old but with an appetite larger than anyone in the family could fathom. The child never seemed to be full.
“What are you going to eat?” Petunia asked, eyeing Midge’s empty bowl.
“It’s alright, Pet,” Midge assured her fifteen-year-old sister. “I’m not hungry.” Her belly growled in protest at the lie. “I’ll pick some berries by the creek a little later.”
“Can we go pick berries?” Jenny asked.
Midge felt a pang in her heart as she looked over the eight faces of her siblings. She was the eldest at nineteen, followed by Peter, who recently celebrated his sixteenth birthday. Next was Petunia and then Ira—born three years later. Josiah had just turned nine and then came Elderberry. Jenny and Abilene were seven, five and three, respectively. Olive, being the youngest of them all, was only two years old.
“That sounds like a fine idea.” Midge took the pot to the sink to soak. She pumped cold water into the pot and swirled it around, trying to loosen the bits of oatmeal from the iron sides. “After breakfast, we’ll get the dishes done and then go to the creek.”
“I talked to Mr. Chapman yesterday,” Peter piped up between bits of porridge.
“Oh?” Midge lifted an eyebrow and poured herself a cup of coffee, trying not to grimace as she took a sip. There was barely any flavor left in the grounds. She must have brewed them at least a dozen times.
“He said I’m too young to hire as a cowboy, but I know it is because of Pa,” Peter complained, his spoon clanging against the enamel bowl. “I wish Pa had died.”
“Peter Beale,” Midge admonished. “Don’t even say such a thing.”
“It would be easier. Then we’d get help instead of them knowing that Pa got drunk and ran off, leaving you here with all of us.” He pushed away from the table, knocking his chair backwards as he rose. “It isn’t fair, Midge. You were could have been married by now. Not taking care of a bunch of kids.”
Ira, his face set in grim lines, looked straight at his brother sitting across from him. “Preacher says the power of death is in your tongue,” he said firmly.
“That’s not how that goes,” Petunia piped up. “It’s the power of life and death...”
Midge discarded her coffee into the soaking pot and dropped the cup in the cold water to be washed. “How about we clean the table and then go outside, and you can do your chores?”
Petunia scoffed. “What chores? We don’t have anything but a swayback horse.”
“Hart Chapman said his dog had puppies. Can we get a puppy, Midge?” Josiah asked.
The children started chatting excitedly about the thought of having a dog. Pa took the old hound dog when he disappeared. Midge was thankful it was one less mouth to feed.
Midge stared at the chair that Pa had recently occupied, feeling a wave of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that he was gone and no longer causing her pain. She felt guilty for wishing him away, as if it were her fault he was gone. Taking a deep breath, Midge turned away from the table, trying to shake off these overwhelming feelings, and pretended to concentrate on cleaning the pot.
“No. We can’t get a puppy,” she finally said. “Bring me your bowls and go outside.”
“I can’t find my boots,” Jenny whined.
“Where did you have them last?” Petunia said, picking up Olive. “Whoo-hee. You need your nappy changed. Midge! Olive needs her nappy changed. She stinks, and her dress is all wet.”
“I don’t know where your boots are, Jenny,” Midge said, dropping her rag in the dirty water. “Did you leave them outside?”
“I’ll go look.” The child took off, slamming the door behind her.
Petunia held Olive in outstretched arms. The child was giggling as she reached for whatever dead animal Pet had on top of her head. Petunia looked mortified as Olive bunched up her legs and released wind. “Midge, take her now.”
Taking the toddler from Petunia, Midge watched as seven of her siblings raced out the door. Sighing, she tapped Olive on the nose. “We should get you changed, and then perhaps you can help me do the dishes.”
Olive giggled, placing her hands on either side of Midge’s face, and squeezing as she put an open mouth kiss on Midge’s nose. Olive still hadn’t spoken a word, and sometimes Midge wished she knew what the little girl was thinking.
After quickly changing Olive into a clean diaper and flour sack dress, they went outside in search of everyone else. They stepped onto the porch and Midge spied Jenny’s boots, forgotten in the dirt. Midge stooped to pick them up and brushed away the dust before placing them on the rickety porch that overlooked the empty fields beyond. As she glanced around the yard, everyone had gone. The berry pails were missing from their hooks on the side of the house, which told her that the children had probably headed to the creek.
