Prologue

September 1865, Bear Lake, Wisconsin

Ethel stared into the mirror that rested on the top of her oak chest of drawers. Although her older brother, Emmett, had often threatened to destroy the mirror, since he believed it encouraged vanity, Ethel knew he wouldn’t. It was one of the few treasured items she had from her mother.

Although Ethel’s memories had faded and she could no longer remember the sound of her mother’s voice, whenever she looked in the mirror, it renewed the connection she had. Her blue eyes were so much like her mother’s. The dimples in her cheeks came from her father, along with his strong chin. Thinking of her mother and father, long deceased in a horrible fire, still brought a glistening of tears to Ethel’s eyes.

How different her life would be if her parents had lived. She wouldn’t be constrained by Emmett’s harsh rules and tight purse strings. Laughter would fill the house, and she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She sighed and set down the brush. With nimble fingers, she braided her thick, caramel-colored waves into a long French braid that hung down to the middle of her back. Despite her best efforts, a few small curls sprang free and framed her heart-shaped face. It would have to do. Ethel straightened the brooch that she had pinned at the neckline of her gray calico dress. It was a small blue cameo that had belonged to her grandmother, and it added a bit of color to her otherwise drab clothing.

Satisfied, Ethel left her small bedroom and descended the wide stairs to the dining room. She spied Emmett sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee in his large hands.

“Good morning, Emmett,” Ethel said and gave her brother a bright smile.

Emmett looked up and his eyes narrowed. His mouth grew tight. “Do not adorn yourselves outwardly by braiding your hair, and wearing gold ornaments or fine clothing; rather, let your adornment be the inner self with the lasting beautify of a gentle and quiet spirit. If you spent more time reading your Bible and less time on vain self-admiration, you would know the Lord is displeased with vanity.”

I read my Bible every day. Ethel looked down at the floor and waited for her brother’s sermon to continue. When he didn’t speak, she lifted her chin and saw him staring at her in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Emmett. I was waiting for you to continue,” she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

“I have told you that your dress and hair are unsuitable, yet you remain in my presence.” He waved his hand in the direction of the stairs. “Go upstairs and reflect on Revelations 14. Fix your hair in a manner befitting a godly woman and then you may come downstairs for breakfast.”

Ethel turned to go, but Emmett stopped her. “And do not wear that brooch again. Only wanton women wear gold on their chests and in their ears.”

Ethel bit her lip to keep from arguing. Their grandmother was no wanton woman. Grandmother had been a God-fearing woman who had loved them up until her death ten years ago. She hurried from the dining room and strode upstairs, taking care not to make noise on the stair treads lest Emmett lecture her on her carriage.

Back in her room, she stared at her reflection for only a moment before she yanked the tie from the bottom of her braid. The girl in town had looked so lovely with her long French braid, but I should have known that Emmett would find a reason to fault it. She unbraided her long hair and ran the brush through the waves with more force than was necessary to make it smooth. She brushed it back and twisted it into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, and then secured it with pins.

That should make him happy. She fingered the cameo brooch. It was quite lovely. The face of the girl was carved from ivory and the features were more delicate than Ethel could believe possible on such a small piece. The jeweler who had created it so many years ago must have been not only talented but patient. She carefully unpinned it from her dress, then placed it in the top drawer of her dresser. She hid it under her handkerchiefs where it would remain undisturbed.

“You are the most respectable-looking young woman in Bear Lake,” Ethel said to her reflection. Her eyes strayed to her well-thumbed Bible, but she didn’t immediately pick it up to read the verses Emmett had quoted. She had started her morning with the rising sun, reflecting on Proverbs 3:6. God will direct your steps. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take. It had been a happy accident that her Bible had fallen open to Proverbs, but it had gladdened her heart and made her stop and think of what God would want her to do.

Guilt filled her. Emmett believes in obedience to the Lord’s word. It will be wrong for me to ignore his command. She picked up her Bible and settled down on the nearby straight-backed wooden chair with the seat woven from willow branches. She opened it to Revelations 14 and read the entire chapter. When she was done, Ethel gave her appearance one final glance. Satisfied that her appearance would be satisfactory to her brother‘s exacting and strict standards, she descended the stairs more slowly this time, without the spring in her step from earlier.

Emmett had finished the one cup of coffee he allowed himself a day. He had placed a small amount of fresh-churned butter on the bread their housekeeper, Mrs. Stover, had baked the day before. When Ethel cleared her throat at the doorway, Emmett stopped chewing and looked up. This time, he nodded his approval and motioned for her to sit down.

He swallowed and said, “you would do well to read the verses again this evening so they will be fresh in your mind tomorrow. I fear that I have had to reprimand you far too many times over your vanity. To adorn oneself tells the Lord that you do not think his original creation was satisfactory.”

Ethel lowered her eyes and stared at her fingers that twisted in her lap. God would not allow art and music and other things of beauty if such were the case. Yet, she kept her thoughts to herself. “Yes, Emmett. I shall do so.” She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the sideboard before taking a seat at the far end of the table from her brother.

It was a large maple wood table that her father had made, with the hopes that it would soon have many children seated around it. Papa had wanted six children, while Mama had longed for ten. Yet, when they had died, Ethel, Edward, and Emmett had been their only children. Emmett was seven years older than she was. Edward, who she affectionately nicknamed Teddy, was five years older.

He had gone to fight in the War of the Rebellion between the States, while Emmett had stayed behind to run the family farm and raise Ethel. There had been no word from Teddy in over a year. Ethel could only pray that Teddy had survived and would eventually make his way home. Every day, more and more men returned to the nearby towns from the South, so she clung to that hope.

There had been other children, but none had survived. Ethel, when she had arrived, had been doted on by her parents and her brothers. When they died, Emmett had changed. The responsibilities for the ranch and caring for Teddy and Ethel weighed heavily upon him, and he had lost more and more of his good humor as each year passed. Worry lines had etched themselves between his brows and by his mouth making him appear much older than his twenty-five years. Ethel wished she could turn back the clock and allow her brother to recapture his youth, but it was impossible. She could only pray that the same thing didn’t happen to her.

Emmett stared across the table at her, his piercing blue eyes narrowed in confusion. He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a critical gaze. Ethel shifted in her seat uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting in her lap. His dark hair was slicked back, highlighting his strong jawline and harsh expression. “What are you doing with yourself today?“ He asked, his voice deep and commanding.

Ethel could feel her cheeks flushing under his scrutiny, and she hoped that he couldn’t see her nerves. “I thought it would be good to visit the dry goods store. I noticed that we are low on dried beans and our harvest this year was not as plentiful as in years past. Mr. Hammond has some that Mrs. Stover hasn’t cooked before that I’d like to try. And I’ll get a small sack of cornmeal, too.” Ethel looked up as she made a small list in her head of things she would need to purchase today. Mrs. Stover did most of the shopping for the house, but occasionally, Ethel enjoyed a shopping trip into town, too.

Emmett harrumphed and pushed his chair back. “Don’t let Mr. Hammond talk you into purchasing more than you need. The man has a silver tongue and many a woman has been persuaded to part with her pennies for frivolous things that were unnecessary.”

Ethel ducked her head. “Yes, Emmett. I’ll be on my guard.”

“See that you are.” Emmett strode out of the room, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm and a touch of disdain. He strode out of the room, his long legs carrying him with confidence and purpose.

When the door closed behind him, Ethel finally allowed herself to relax. Whenever she was in Emmett’s presence, the room always felt stifling. Her chest would tighten, and tension would creep into her shoulders. She loved her brother dearly, but Ethel always felt that she disappointed him. Perhaps if she had been a boy, Emmett would not have felt so burdened.

After finishing her slice of bread, Ethel poured herself a second cup of coffee. It was the one small luxury she allowed herself. After Emmett was gone, she would reflect on her coming day and consider all of her possibilities. She longed to meet a kind man of faith who would marry her. She wanted a home of her own where she could braid her hair or wear her grandmother’s brooch without fear of reproach.

Of course, any man who would even consider courting her would soon turn away when they met Emmett’s disapproval. As much as he complained about Ethel’s behavior, he found no one was worthy of marrying his sister.

“Ethel, a man must be more than handsome and strong. He must be a man of faith and obedience. There are too many men who have moved to Bear Lake seeking fame and fortune for themselves with no regard for others.” Emmett would always sniff in distaste and then return to reading his newspaper. “Mark my words. A few years from now, many of these men who have traveled here to hunt and trap will disappear and head west for another adventure. You need someone who is steadfast and wants to put roots into this ground that we have been blessed with.”

She didn’t necessarily disagree, but the idea that there was a big world beyond the small confines of their town intrigued her. She often wondered if she would enjoy the dry desert towns of the west or prefer the big cities back east. It didn’t matter. She would stay here in Bear Lake. Her parents were buried here, and she would never leave Emmett. He was all she had left in the world.

Daydreaming wouldn’t get the chores done, however, so she finished her coffee and cleared the table of their dishes. In the kitchen, Ethel placed the dishes next to the sink for Mrs. Stover when she arrived. They would have cold sliced pork for the midday meal, so there was little she needed to do before she went shopping.

She went to the front entrance and found her bonnet hanging on the peg by the door. There was the chill of fall in the air, so she wrapped a blue shawl around her shoulders before walking out the front door. The spring had returned to her step, and Ethel was excited to see what the day held in store for her.

Chapter One

When she returned from town, Ethel was excited. After visiting Hammond’s Dry Goods store, she had wandered into Smith’s Mercantile. Mr. Smith had promised that a new shipment of fabric would arrive the following week. She needed a new dress, and she had been careful with the allowance money Emmett allowed her to run the house. If she saved a few more pennies, she would have enough to purchase several yards of cloth. She would even make Emmett a new shirt, although he would claim that he didn’t need one.

As Emmett wasn’t due to return from the fields until noon, Ethel strolled out to the barn to check on the mama cat and her kittens. They were a late litter, and Ethel had secreted them inside the barn so they could stay warm. The mother cat was a good mouser, so she and the kittens could stay in the barn through the cold winter and keep the grain free from pests.

Emmett believed that God’s creatures lived or died without human intervention, although Ethel had once caught him cradling a fledging that had fallen from its nest and carefully placing it back in the tree. Emmett had a soft heart, yet he rarely showed it. I think he fears that softness might be mistaken for weakness.

In the barn, Ethel filled her apron with grains and threw some to the hens. She laughed as they raced after a fly she had disturbed. Grabbing a pail, she searched through the nooks and crannies for eggs. Although they had laying boxes Emmett had built from scrap lumber, two of the hens insisted on laying their eggs everyplace else.

It had become a daily adventure for her to search for the missing eggs. She discovered one in the horse’s stall, and Ethel was thrilled that the old mare hadn’t stomped on it. The other egg was in the corner of the barn close to the mama cat.

Ethel set the pail down next to the pile of hay and sat down next to mama cat. Ethel felt she ought to have named her, but she had settled on calling her Cat, and nothing else seemed to fit her. She stroked the silky tabby fur and Cat looked up at her and blinked her pale green eyes. Three kittens nestled against Cat for warmth. Their small mouths pressed against her as they suckled their meal. Using the tenderest of touches, Ethel stroked their small heads. They were only a few days old and their eyes were still tightly shut.

“Cat, you have a better life than you realize. You can go wherever you like and no one judges you. If only I had your freedom,” Ethel sighed. She lay her head down on the hay, not caring if she would get bits of it stuck in her hair.

Cat didn’t respond. She simply purred loudly and kneaded her paws against the edge of Ethel’s dress. Ethel lay back and watched the dust motes that danced in the small beam of sunlight that peeked through a small knothole.

The creak of the barn door alerted her that she wasn’t alone. She scrambled to sit up, but Emmett found her before she could stand.

His scowl told her everything she needed to know. She had once again disappointed him.

“What are you doing lazing about in the barn like an animal? Have you no shame?” Emmet’s voice rose and she winced.

“I simply came to check on the kittens,” Ethel stuttered out the words.

He shook his head. He glanced at Cat and the kittens, and a brief flash of tenderness filled his eyes, but when he turned to Ethel it evaporated. “I have tried and tried to get you to understand that slovenly and lazy behavior is not pleasing to neither God nor man. How do you propose to become a good wife if you spend your days wallowing in the hay and mooning about? You should be inside sewing or helping Mrs. Stover.”

Ethel’s shoulders drooped and she picked a stray bit of hay from the edge of her cuff. Her cheeks felt hot, and she wanted nothing more than to run from the barn and keep going. But she was no longer a young child, and such behavior would be deemed just as unseemly as her sitting in the hay next to Cat. “I was gathering eggs when I paused to pet Cat. I had only been sitting a moment when you arrived.”

Emmett’s lips thinned. “If you wish to rest, you may use the respite to read your Bible. Go inside and read Revelations 14 again, lest you forget.”

Ethel didn’t move at first. She breathed out an angry breath and stooped down to pick up her pail of eggs. She looked longingly at Cat and her three kittens before turning back to her brother.

Emmett’s eyes narrowed. “I am the head of this household, just as God is head of the Church. Obeying is not optional. It is decreed by God’s words. A woman shall obey the words of the head of her household. Not to do so is a sin.” His voice grew strident and he stepped closer to her as he shook his finger at her.

Ethel’s grip tightened on the pail and her cheeks flamed. Even her ears felt hot as she burned with anger and humiliation. I am not a sinful woman. “Yes, Emmett.”

She hurried past him not wishing for him to see the tears that sprang in her eyes. Ethel raced into the house before he could say anything else.

She left the pail of eggs on the kitchen table next to the pan of beans Mrs. Stover had left to soak for the following day’s supper. Dashing up the stairs and not caring that her feet clattered on every step, she went to her room and shut her bedroom door firmly behind her.

He is so bossy and unrelenting in his disapproval. God would not wish for me to be unhappy and cower away from Emmett’s harsh words. She flounced onto her chair and picked up her Bible. Her fingers combed through the chapters until they landed on 1 Corinthians 11.

“Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man nor man of woman; for as woman was made from man, so man is now born of woman. And all things are from God.” She read the words aloud slowly and then reread them. They resonated within her soul. Emmett must understand that, although he was older, he needed her, too. They were family, and he shouldn’t dominate her every move. She was useful to him if only he could see through all of his rules and decrees.

She sat for a long time reflecting on the words she read. When she married one day, she would wed a man who understood that they must work together. Both valuable in the eyes of God and each other. Ethel prayed that whoever she married would be kind and gentle with his words, not biting and quick to anger.

The chiming of the downstairs clock let her know she couldn’t linger any longer. Her brother would expect his meal, and her failure to serve it on time would be sure to garner another lecture. Ethel checked her reflection in the mirror. A small piece of foxtail grass stuck out of the left side of her hair, giving her a wild appearance. She grinned and plucked it out.

Fingering the grass, it reminded her of a red fox she had seen dashing across the field after a mouse. Its quick, sure movements and flash of orange against the green grass had reminded her of all the beauty in the world. Although it hurt her heart to know a mouse would die, she knew that the fox needed to eat, and it was all part of God’s glorious plan for the world.

She smoothed her apron and went downstairs to serve lunch. Mrs. Stover cooked and cleaned for them, but one of Ethel’s few chores was to set the table and clear it. This would be another meal punctuated by bouts of silence mixed with a lecture she was sure to have heard before. If only Emmett could find something of value in her so that she wouldn’t disappoint him yet again.

***

Lunch had been as Ethel had predicted. The only bright spot was Emmett’s retelling of finding the calf that had gone missing two days ago. It had been newly weaned from its mother and had not come back to the barn with the rest of the herd.

Emmett had feared a wolf or coyote had gotten it, but to his surprise, it had been tangled in a bit of old fencing wire. It had a few small cuts to one of its legs, but Emmett had applied some salve and he expected it would recover within a few days.

“It was bawling loudly for the rest of the herd, so I’m surprised a predator hadn’t come for it,” Emmett said, finishing his tale. “James and Henry stayed with the rest of the herd while I took the calf to the barn.”

Her brother, as she had suspected he would, had put the calf in the pen near the barn so it would be safe. It’s why he had returned early for the midday meal and discovered her in the barn. Secretly, Ethel was glad he once again failed to abide by his own words that animals would either live or die without man’s intervention. Her heart lifted knowing that Emmett would always insure that God’s creatures were cared for and protected.

After she had cleared up the dishes, Ethel swept the floor of the dining room and cleaned the windows until they shone in the afternoon sun. She loved the way the sunlight glistened and brightened the whole house. With winter coming soon, she wanted to enjoy every moment of brightness before the days grew shorter and the snow fell so deep that she could scarcely walk from the house to the barn.

Once her few chores were finished, Ethel decided to enjoy a walk on the ranch. It was a beautiful property. Every day, Ethel felt as if she discovered something new, despite living there her whole life. New plants sprung up along the fence line from seeds dropped by migrating birds and creatures burrowed into fallen trees to have their young. Emmett and the ranch hands had whitewashed the barn that summer, and Ethel loved the way that it made the weathered sides look brand new. The other outbuildings had received a whitewash, too, and against the grassy fields, it looked just like a painting Ethel had seen in a school friend’s home. She spied Emmett with James Ball and Henry Clay, their ranch hands, down with the herd of cows. Rather than risk a lecture about idle hands, she turned and headed down the wagon lane that would eventually lead to town.

Even though it was early fall, some of the leaves on the trees had already changed colors and she wanted to take in all of the scarlet and gold foliage before they turned to a dull brown. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and set off. With no destination in mind, Ethel took her time and breathed in the scent of the outdoors. A light breeze ruffled her hair, and she pushed her bonnet back from her face so she could enjoy it.

She wandered until she found herself nearing Mrs. Brown’s house. Mrs. Brown had been Ethel and Emmett‘s neighbors since she was a child and over the years. Ethel felt close to Mrs. Brown and would often confide in her about her woes with Emmet. The Brown’s home was a two-story farmhouse with black shutters. The porch sagged a little and it needed a good coat of whitewash, but Ethel thought it gave the house character and made her feel welcome.

Mrs. Brown, a woman in her early thirties with soft blonde hair and bright blue eyes, sat in a rocker on the porch and was shelling beans. When she saw Ethel, she waved and beckoned her to join her. Ethel opened the gate and climbed up the few steps to see her friend. Mrs. Brown’s old black mutt, Poncho, lay asleep by the chair.

“Good afternoon, Ethel. Oh my, aren’t you a picture of beauty today,” Mrs. Brown said.

Ethel’s shoulders moved back, and she lifted her chin, as a feeling of pride in her appearance filled her, but then her brother’s voice rang in her head and she sighed. “Vanity is a sin and a woman shall not adorn herself with gold nor braid her hair. At least that is what Emmett told me this morning.” She sat down on the second rocking chair and scooped up a handful of beans to help Mrs. Brown shell them. She relayed his displeasure at her braiding her hair and his discovery of her in the barn petting Cat.

Mrs. Brown’s nimble fingers made quick work of the strings and she didn’t stop, even as she looked at Ethel. Concern caused a crease to form between her brows. Her pale blond hair was braided and then wound into a tight bun on the crown of her head. Her blue eyes glanced across the yard to where her twins, Jonas and Jessica, clambered in a tree.

Mrs. Brown‘s twins were a handful. At six years old, they were full of energy and mischief, always running and playing and causing chaos wherever they went. Mrs. Brown often found herself running ragged trying to keep up with them, but she loved them with all her heart and was grateful for the joy and laughter they brought into her life. Jonas was the more outgoing of the two, with a mop of curly brown hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief.

He was always eager to make new friends and explore the world around him. Jessica, on the other hand, was quieter and more reserved, with long blonde hair and gentle brown eyes that seemed to take in everything around her. Despite her quiet nature, she was no less curious and full of wonder, always eager to learn and discover new things.

“Your brother has a rigid interpretation of the Bible and its meaning in today’s world, Ethel. Religion can either help navigate the world in a kindly manner which glorifies the Lord, or it can be used as a weapon to justify control of others.” Mrs. Brown’s voice held a note of sorrow. She shook her head. “I understand why Emmett does what he does, but it makes it difficult for you.”

“He used to be funny and kind when we were younger. After Mama and Papa died, he changed,” Eliza said. She dropped the shelled cowpeas into the pan at Mrs. Brown’s feet. “If only he could see the beauty of God’s creations instead of looking for and expecting the flaws.”

“Have patience with Emmett, Ethel. I pray that one day he will remember that God teaches about grace and compassion for your fellow men and women.” Mrs. Brown laid a hand on Ethel’s arm. “You are a good person and a blessing as a friend.”

A friend who I am not allowed to see. Emmett disapproved of her friend’s outspoken demeanor and the way she seemed to challenge his strict interpretation of the Bible. He saw her as a threat to his control over Ethel, and he had forbidden Ethel from seeing her friend. But Ethel was determined to hold onto the one person who had shown her kindness and understanding, even in the face of her brother‘s disapproval.

If not for Mrs. Brown, she would have no one to turn to for comfort and wisdom, no one to help her navigate the difficult path of faith and independence. Despite Emmett‘s objections, Ethel remained steadfast in her refusal to give up her friendship with Mrs. Brown, knowing that it was the one thing that kept her grounded and gave her hope for the future.

They spent the next hour shelling the beans and talking about the upcoming church potluck. The twins had long since given up on climbing the tree and, under their mother’s watchful eyes, had wandered down to the creek that ran on the other side of the lane.

“I hope one day I have a family like yours,” Ethel said. Her voice grew wistful as the laughter of Jonas and Jessica traveled on the afternoon breeze to the house.

“Give it time. It doesn’t do to wish away today with thoughts of tomorrow,” Mrs. Brown said sagely as she stood and hoisted the large pot of beans onto her hip. She called for the twins to come back to the house.

“I’d best get home and start cooking supper. I’ll see you at the Sunday service,” Ethel said.

She waved goodbye to the twins as they raced past her through the gate. Feeling more at peace after her visit with Mrs. Brown, Ethel decided to make a blackberry buckle for dessert. Perhaps a sweet dessert will sweeten Emmett’s dour disposition.