{"id":4526,"date":"2013-07-31T00:01:53","date_gmt":"2013-07-31T00:01:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/booksbylyncote.com\/SWBS\/?p=4526"},"modified":"2013-07-19T21:50:19","modified_gmt":"2013-07-19T21:50:19","slug":"lyns-latest-the-baby-bequest-excerpt-from-chapter-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/booksbylyncote.com\/SWBS\/new-book-release\/lyns-latest-the-baby-bequest-excerpt-from-chapter-one","title":{"rendered":"Lyn’s Latest–The Baby Bequest-Excerpt from Chapter One"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Baby<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Baby Bequest
\nby Lyn Cote<\/p>\n

Chapter One<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pepin, Wisconsin
\nAugust, 1870<\/p>\n

Clutching the railing of the riverboat, Miss Ellen Thurston ached as if she\u2019d been beaten. Now she truly understood the word heartbroken. Images of her sister in her pale blue wedding dress insistently flashed through her mind. As if she could wipe them away, she passed a hand over her eyes. The trip north had been both brief and endless.<\/p>\n

She forced herself back to the present. She was here to start her new life.
\nThe sunlight glittering on the Mississippi River nearly blinded her. The brim of her stylish hat fell short and she shaded her eyes, scanning the jumble of dusty, rustic buildings, seeking her cousin, Ophelia, and Ophelia\u2019s husband. But only a few strangers had gathered to watch the boat dock. Loneliness nearly choked her. Ophelia, please be here. I need you.<\/em><\/p>\n

The riverboat men called to each other as the captain guided the boat to the wharf. With a bump, the boat docked and the men began to wrestle thick ropes to harness the boat to the pier.<\/p>\n

As she watched the rough ropes being rasped back and forth, she felt the same sensation as she relived her recent struggle. Leaving home had been more difficult than she could have anticipated. But staying had been impossible. Why had she gone against her better judgment and let her heart take a chance?<\/p>\n

The black porter who had assisted her during her trip appeared beside her. \u201cMiss, I will see to your trunk and boxes, never fear.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled at him and offered her hand. \u201cYou\u2019ve been so kind. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Looking surprised, he shook her hand. \u201cIt\u2019s been my pleasure to serve you, miss. Yes, indeed it has.\u201d<\/p>\n

His courtesy helped her take a deep breath. She merely had to hold herself together till she was safely at Ophelia\u2019s. There, with her cousin\u2014who was closer than her sister\u2014 she could mourn her loss privately, inwardly.<\/p>\n

Soon she was standing on dry land with her luggage piled around her. She handed the porter a generous tip and he bowed his thanks and left her. Ellen glanced around, looking for her cousin in vain. Could something have happened to her? Even as this fear struck, she pushed it from her mind. Ophelia was probably just a bit late. Still, standing here alone made her painfully conspicuous.<\/p>\n

A furtive movement across the way caught her attention. A thin, blond lad who looked to be in his mid-teens was sneaking\u2014yes, definitely sneaking\u2014around the back of a store. She wondered what he was up to. But she didn\u2019t know much about this town, and she shouldn\u2019t poke her nose into someone else\u2019s business. Besides, what wrong could a lad that age be doing?<\/p>\n

She turned her mind back to her own dilemma. Who could she go to for assistance? Who would know the possible reason why Ophelia wasn\u2019t here to meet her? Searching her mind, she recalled someone she\u2019d met on her one visit here a year ago. She picked up her skirts and walked to Ashford\u2019s General Store.<\/p>\n

The bell jingled as she entered, and two men turned to see who had come in. One she recognized as the proprietor, Mr. Ashford, and one was a stranger\u2014a very handsome stranger\u2014with wavy blond hair. Holton had the same kind of hair. The likeness stabbed her.<\/p>\n

Then she noticed a young girl about fourteen slipping down the stairs at the rear of the store. She eased the back door open and through the gap, Ellen glimpsed the young lad. Ah, calf love.
\nEllen held her polite mask in place, turning her attention to the older of the two men. \u201cGood day, Mr. Ashford. I don\u2019t know if you remember me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Thurston!\u201d the storekeeper exclaimed and hurried around the counter. \u201cWe didn\u2019t expect you for another few days.\u201d
\nThis brought her up sharply. \u201cI wrote my cousin almost two weeks ago that I\u2019d be arriving today.\u201d<\/p>\n

The storekeeper frowned. \u201cI thought Mrs. Steward said you\u2019d be arriving later this week.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, dear.\u201d Ellen voiced her sinking dismay as she turned toward the windows facing the street. Her mound of boxes and valises sat forlornly on her trunk at the head of the dock. How was she going to get to Ophelia? Her grip on her polite facade was slipping. \u201cI could walk to the Steward’s but my things\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll get some boys to bring them here\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The stranger in the store interrupted, clearing his throat, and bowed. \u201cMr. Ashford, please to introduce me. I may help, perhaps?\u201d The man spoke with a thick German accent.<\/p>\n

The man also unfortunately had blue eyes. Again, his likeness to Holton, who had misled her, churned within. She wanted to turn her back to him.<\/p>\n

Mr. Ashford hesitated, then nodded. \u201cA good idea.\u201d He turned to Ellen. \u201cMiss Ellen Thurston, may I introduce you to another newcomer in our little town, Mr. Kurt Lang, a Dutchman?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ellen recognized that Mr. Ashford was using the ethnic slur, \u201cDutch,\u201d a corruption of Deutsche, the correct term for German immigrants. Hiding her acute discomfort with the insult, Ellen extended her gloved hand and curtseyed as politeness demanded.<\/p>\n

Mr. Lang approached swiftly and bowed over her hand, murmuring something that sounded more like French than German.<\/p>\n

Ellen withdrew her hand and tried not to look the man full in the face, but she failed. She found that not only did he have blond hair with a natural wave and blue eyes that reminded her of Holton, but his face was altogether too handsome. And the worst was that his smile too kind. Her facade began slipping even more as tears hovered just behind her eyes.
\n\u201cI live near the Stewards, Miss Thurston,\u201d the stranger said, sounding polite but stiff. \u201cI drive you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ellen looked to Mr. Ashford a bit desperately. Young ladies of quality observed a strict code of conduct, especially those who became schoolteachers. Should she ride alone with this man?<\/p>\n

Mr. Ashford also seemed a bit uncomfortable. \u201cMr. Lang has been living here for over six months and is a respectable person. Very respectable.\u201d The man lowered his voice and added, \u201cEven if he is a foreigner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ellen stiffened at this second slur from Mr. Ashford.<\/p>\n

Mr. Lang himself looked mortified but said nothing in return.<\/p>\n

With effort, Ellen swallowed her discomfort. The man couldn\u2019t help reminding her of someone she didn\u2019t want to be reminded of. More important, she would not let him think that she embraced the popular prejudice against anyone not born in America.
\n\u201cWe are a nation of immigrants, Mr. Ashford,\u201d she said with a smile to lighten the scold. She turned to Mr. Lang. \u201cThank you, Mr. Lang, I am ready whenever you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Lang\u2019s gaze met hers in sudden connection. He bowed again. \u201cI finish and take you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She heard in these words a hidden thank-you for her comment.<\/p>\n

A few moments later, she stood on the shady porch of the store, watching the man load her trunk, two boxes of books and her valises onto the back of his wagon along with his goods. She noticed it was easy for him\u2014he was quite strong. She also noticed he made no effort to gain her attention or show off. He just did what he\u2019d said he\u2019d do. That definitely differed from Holton, the consummate actor.<\/p>\n

This man\u2019s neat appearance reminded her that she must look somewhat disheveled from her trip, increasing her feelings of awkwardness at being alone with the stranger. She\u2019d often felt that same way with Holton, too. His Eastern polish should have warned her away\u2014if her own instincts hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

At his curt nod, she met Mr. Lang at the wagon side and he helped her up the steps. His touch warmed her skin, catching her off guard. Rattled, she sat rigidly straight on the high bench, warning him away.<\/p>\n

Just then, the storekeeper\u2019s wife hurried out the door. \u201cMiss Thurston! Ned just called upstairs that you\u2019d arrived.\u201d The flustered woman hurried over and reached up to shake hands with Ellen. \u201cWe didn\u2019t expect you so soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Mr. Ashford said as much. I\u2019d told my cousin when I was arriving, but perhaps she didn\u2019t receive my letter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe school isn\u2019t quite ready, you know.\u201d Mrs. Ashford looked down and obviously realized that she\u2019d rushed outside without taking off her smeared kitchen apron. She snatched it off.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s fine. My cousin wanted me to come for a visit, anyway.\u201d Ophelia\u2019s invitation to visit before the teaching job began had come months before. Ellen suffered a twinge, hoping this was all just a minor misunderstanding. Then she thought of Ophelia\u2019s little boy. Little ones were so at risk for illness. Perhaps something had happened?
\nShe scolded herself for jumping to conclusions. After a few more parting remarks were exchanged, Mr. Lang slapped the reins, and the team started down the dusty road toward the track that Ellen recognized from her earlier visit to Pepin.<\/p>\n

The two of them sat in a polite silence. As they left the town behind them, Ellen tried to accustom herself to the forest that crowded in on them like a brooding presence. The atmosphere did not raise her spirits. And it was taking every ounce of composure she had left to sit beside this stranger.<\/p>\n

Then, when the silence had become unbearable, Mr. Lang asked gruffly, \u201cYou come far?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust from Galena.\u201d Then she realized a newcomer might not know where Galena was. \u201cIt\u2019s south of here in Illinois, about a five-day trip. You may have heard of it. President Grant\u2019s home is there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour president, he comes from your town?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded and didn\u2019t add that her hometown had a bad case of self-importance over this. They\u2019d all forgotten how many of them had previously scorned Ulysses S. Grant. \u201cBefore the war, he and his father owned a leather shop.\u201d She hadn\u2019t meant to say this, but speaking her mind to someone at last on the topic presented an opportunity too attractive to be missed. She found President Grant\u2019s story extraordinary, though not everyone did.<\/p>\n

\u201cA leather shop?\u201d The man sounded disbelieving.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d She stopped herself from saying more in case Mr. Lang thought that she was disparaging their president. The wagon rocked over a ridge in the road. Why couldn\u2019t it move more quickly?<\/p>\n

\u201cThis land is different. In Germany, no tradesman would be general or president.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ellen couldn\u2019t miss the deep emotion with which Mr. Lang spoke these few words. She tilted her face so she could see him around the brim of her hat, then regretted it. The man had expressive eyebrows and thick brown lashes, another resemblance to Holton. Unhappy thoughts of home bombarded her.<\/p>\n

As another conversational lull blossomed, crows filled the silence, squawking as if irritated by the human intrusion. She felt the same discontent. She wanted only to be with dear Ophelia, and she wasn\u2019t sure she could stand much more time alone with this disturbing stranger.
\nShe sought another way to put distance between them. \u201cI am going to be the schoolteacher here. Do you have children?\u201d Ellen hoped he\u2019d say that he and his wife had none, and hence she would not come in contact with this man much in the future.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am not married. But I have two\u2026students.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I don\u2019t understand,\u201d Ellen said, clutching the side of the wagon as they drove over another rough patch, her stomach lurching.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother Gunther and my nephew Johann. They will come to school.\u201d<\/p>\n

This man had responsibilities she hadn\u2019t guessed. Yet his tone had been grim, as if his charges were a sore subject.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow old are they?\u201d Do they speak English? she wanted to ask. She sincerely hoped so.<\/p>\n

\u201cGunther is sixteen and Johann is seven.\u201d Then he answered her unspoken question. \u201cWe speak English some at home. But is hard for them.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded out of politeness but she couldn\u2019t help voicing an immediate concern. \u201cIsn\u2019t your brother a bit old to attend school? Most students only go to the eighth grade\u2014I mean, until about thirteen years old.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGunther needs to learn much about this country. He will go to school.\u201d
\nThe man\u2019s tone brooked no dispute. So she offered none, straightening her back and wishing the horse would go faster.<\/p>\n

Yes, your brother will attend, but will he try to learn? And in consequence, will he make my job harder?<\/em>”<\/p>\n

So there is the beginning of my latest story. I hope you will enjoy reading how Kurt Lang and Miss Ellen Thurston overcome the prejudices separating them and in the process create a family for a little orphan.–Lyn<\/span>
\n\"\"<\/a>\"\"
\nTo purchase, click cover.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  The Baby Bequest by Lyn Cote Chapter One   Pepin, Wisconsin August, 1870 Clutching the railing of the riverboat, Miss Ellen Thurston ached as if she\u2019d been beaten. Now she truly understood the word heartbroken. 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