Brides of Iowa Read Free Page A

to stormy in an instant. “Your father will just have to wait a few more minutes.” She clucked her tongue. “His behavior yesterday was deplorable. And such vile language! Didn’t even attend his own wife’s funeral, and the way he treated you … tsk-tsk.”
    As if suddenly realizing her words might be offensive, the woman’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Well, anyway, come eat some breakfast. I think there’s still some apple butter left.” She slipped out the door.
    Tessa’s fingers fumbled with the buttons down the front of her dress. She pulled on her shoes—Mama’s shoes, actually. Mama told her to wear them a couple of months ago when her own were beyond repair. A simple pair of secondhand shoes, certainly not much to look at, but tangible proof of the footsteps Mama left for her to follow.
    After a quick washing of her face and arms, she pulled her hair back and secured it with a frayed scrap of old ribbon. How might she excuse herself and hurry back to the wagon without appearing ungrateful? She couldn’t, in good conscience, take advantage of Mrs. Dunnigan’s generosity and accept food without paying for it.
    She followed the heavenly mingled fragrances of coffee, bacon, and biscuits and found the kitchen.
    Mrs. Dunnigan turned from the stove when Tessa entered. “Here, dear, you sit down while I pour you some coffee.” She reached for the coffeepot. “How about some bacon and eggs?”
    “Thank you, ma’am, but I’m not hungry.” She regretted the lie. “You’ve been so kind. I just wish I could pay you for your trouble.”
    Mrs. Dunnigan set a mug of coffee in front of her. “You need to eat something, child.”
    Tessa took several tentative sips of the steaming brew. The aroma of breakfast made her stomach growl, but she set her jaw and stiffened her spine against the temptation. The overriding fear of her father’s wrath bullied every other thought—her grief as well as her hunger—out of the way. Despite Mrs. Dunnigan’s kindness, she couldn’t linger at the woman’s table.
    She took one more sip of coffee and stood. “Thank you, ma’am, for everything. You’ve been more than kind, but Papa will be furious if he’s had to wait for me.”
    Mrs. Dunnigan’s eyebrows dipped in disagreement, but she simply nodded and patted Tessa’s shoulder. “All right, dear. You take care now. And I’m so sorry about your mother.”
    The lump in Tessa’s throat prevented her reply, so she forced a smile and returned the woman’s nod. She slipped out the door and scurried down the boardwalk, past the livery to the giant elm tree at the edge of town where Papa left the wagon yesterday—or was it the day before?
    She arrived at the place beneath the giant elm tree, but the only evidence of the wagon’s presence was the trunk Tessa shared with her mother, Mama’s treasured hand-carved cabinet, and a crate containing a crude assortment of household items strewed in the bushes.
    Tessa’s feet froze in place as she stared at the belongings littering the ground. Beside them, a set of wagon tracks led away from town in a westerly direction. She forced her eyes to cast a wide search of the area. Reality laughed in her face. Papa dumped everything he didn’t want or need off the tailgate and left without her. He’d discarded her like a piece of unwanted baggage.
    She sank down in the dirt beside the trunk. Her mother’s cabinet lay sideways in front of her, one door askew. A cracked teacup, a broken crock, Mama’s apron—evidences of a meager existence, tossed aside in the dust. Tessa picked up each item by turn, wiped it clean, and cradled it in her lap. Papa may have viewed these things as worthless and unnecessary, but they belonged to Mama. They were priceless.
    She employed some muscle and set the cabinet upright, noticing that the collision with the ground had broken one of the hinges. How could Papa treat Mama’s cherished cabinet with such carelessness?
    Placing each item exactly as