A Daughter's Quest (6 page)

“It will take us more than an hour to reach the farm.” The man didn’t take his eyes off the road when he talked to her. “The basket contains food for our lunch, and I brought the quilt in case we have to eat on the ground.”

“Thank you.” She was always thanking the man. Why hadn’t she realized that they would need to eat while they were gone? She could have asked the hotel kitchen to prepare them something. If she were back home, she would have known what to do. Here she felt almost like a fish out of water. Everything was topsy-turvy, and she didn’t always think straight.

They rode along for more than an hour without saying anything. Constance watched the countryside change from fairly flat land with lots of trees to small rolling hills with tall grasses blowing in the wind. Soon after they left the shelter of sparse shade, she once again unfurled her parasol. Holding it kept her hands busy.

Mr. Van de Kieft wasn’t talkative. At first, she was glad. What did they have to talk about anyway? Then she decided that he was either just being stubborn or he was ignoring her. She didn’t like to feel ignored.

“Have you always lived in Browning City?” Her question must have startled him, because he gave a slight jump.

He turned toward her and studied her expression for a moment. “Not always.”

Was that all he was going to say? “So where did you live before?”

He kept his eyes on the road ahead. “My family came here from the Netherlands when I was only ten years old. We had a farm north of Browning City.”

Once again, silence stretched between them. When it became uncomfortable to Constance, she asked another question. “You said ‘had.’ Are they not there now?”

When he shook his head, the shiny blond hairs that barely touched his collar stirred in the soft breeze. “No. My father’s only brother and his family came to America after we did. He settled in Pennsylvania. My parents decided to move close to them.”

Constance stared at him. “And you didn’t go with them?”

He guided the horses around a bend in the road before he answered. “I was serving as an apprentice to the blacksmith and didn’t want to go.” He glanced at her as if looking for her reaction.

“Do you hear from them?”

“Ja, we write letters all the time.”

When they finally turned down the lane that led to the farm, Constance was glad Hans had thought to bring food. Her stomach gave a very unladylike rumble.

“Are you hungry?” His words surprised her, because he hadn’t said anything for quite a while.

“I believe I am.”
How embarrassing!
Because they were once again riding in speckled shade, she folded her parasol and put it behind her.

“We should be at the house pretty soon. Let’s check to see if anyone is living there first.”

They soon rounded a bend in the lane that revealed a meadow reaching all the way to the edge of a bluff. Although she could hear the river flowing below, they seemed to be high above it. On the other side of the meadow, a house nestled between trees at the edge of a forest. What a beautiful setting for a home.

“The house looks deserted.” Hans pulled on the reins, and the team came to a full stop. “If you want to, we could eat closer to the edge of the bluff, and you can take in the view.”

She turned toward him. “That’s thoughtful. I would enjoy it very much.”

“The horses have plenty of grass to eat here. After we’ve finished our meal, I’ll try to find some place to water them.”

Hans set the brake and stepped over the side of the wagon. When he was on the ground, he turned and placed his hands on her waist. Before she realized what was happening, she stood on the ground beside him. It took a moment for her to catch her breath. The man really was strong to lift her so effortlessly over the side of the vehicle. The warm imprint of his hands on her waist lingered, making her uncomfortable.

He headed toward the back of the wagon, and she followed. “I can carry the quilt.” She tried not to sound breathless but didn’t quite make it.

“Mary was kind enough to fix the food for us.” Hans smiled at Constance. “She said to tell you to enjoy it.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her the next time I see her.”

Soon the quilt was spread under the shade of a tree far enough away from the edge of the bluff to be comfortably safe. Constance enjoyed the view while Hans unpacked the picnic basket. The tantalizing fragrance of fried chicken called to her stomach, and it rumbled a response.

“I can’t exactly remember my geography. Is that area across the river still Iowa?”

Hans looked up from his task. “No. That’s Illinois. The river is the eastern boundary of Iowa.” He pulled a large jug of fresh water and two tin cups from the basket. “Our food is ready.”

Constance sat on the other side of the quilt. Hans was glad he could face her and study her while they ate. After she finished arranging her skirt around her, he handed her a blue granite plate, a silver fork, and a red-checked napkin.

The food tasted wonderful out in the spring air. Besides the chicken, Mary had included biscuits, cheese, and pound cake. As they ate, their conversation took many turns, but they learned a lot about each other. For the first time, Hans felt really comfortable around Constance. Comfortable enough to ask the question that burned a hole in his heart and mind.

“Why did your father insist on you finding this Mr. Mitchell?”

Constance paused with her tin cup halfway to her mouth. Her gaze bore into his before she turned her eyes away from him. For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer.

“He wanted me to give him a message.”

“It must be a very important message.” He waited for her response that never came.

The way she stayed turned away and wouldn’t look at him confirmed the suspicions Hans harbored. There was much more to the story than she was willing to reveal. What was she hiding? If it wasn’t something bad, why was she so secretive?

Constance walked toward the house. Hans met her going the opposite direction, leading the horses to the spring-fed pool they found quite a ways into the woods. While he watered them, she gazed all around the meadow. The house looked pretty large. Maybe the Mitchell family needed a lot of space. She wondered how many people lived here.

Each side of the building contained at least two windows. She had never seen this many on a house in the country before. Hoping to get a look inside, she pushed aside the bushes that grew in every direction from their position beside the house. Unfortunately, curtains obstructed her view of the room. After trying two more windows and receiving several scratches on her hands, she gave up. She walked the perimeter of the house at a distance far enough away to avoid touching the prickly plants.

The walls looked sound. Constance stepped up on the front porch and turned around. Since the meadow gradually rose from the edge of the bluff to the level of the house, she could see far into the distance. Even though she missed the mountains, she would enjoy seeing a view like this every morning. Facing east, the morning sunlight would warm the house, but when the heat of the afternoon sun beat down, the trees surrounding three sides of the house would keep it cool.

Constance moved over by one of the narrow, square columns supporting the roof of the porch. If she owned a house like this, she would put a couple of rocking chairs out here. It would be a good place to sit in the evening, watching twilight creep across the landscape.

After enjoying this scenario, she turned to check the front door. If it wasn’t locked, maybe she could slip into the house. She had never gone into anyone’s house without them inviting her in, but the place was deserted. It wouldn’t hurt to look around.

Just as the latch clicked open, Hans came around the side of the house. “It’s time we started back.”

Disappointed, she pulled the door closed again. She wanted to be alone when she checked out the house. At least now that she knew the way to the farm, she could come by herself.

After they were seated in the wagon, Hans clicked his tongue to the two horses. “There’s another farmhouse not too far from here. Maybe we could stop and see if the neighbors know anything about this family.”

Constance turned to look at him. “That would be helpful. Tha—” She gulped on that word.

“Constance, you don’t have to thank me for every little thing I do.” He sounded amused.

She gripped her hands in her lap. “My mother taught me to be polite.” She peeked up at him.

He nodded, but she noticed he kept his thoughts to himself.

She did too. Constance had a lot to think about. Why would a family just leave such a nice place sitting empty? Where did they go? When did they plan to come back? Would they ever come back?

Hans turned the team onto a lane that led back through a copse of trees. He knew there was a farm on the other side.

Soon the wagon emerged into an open field with a house on the east side.

“Hallo.” His shout must have startled Constance, because she jerked and grabbed onto the seat. “Anybody home?”

A man carrying a pitchfork came out of the barn and started toward them with the tool across one shoulder. They met halfway to the house.

“What kin I do for you?”

Good, he was friendly. Hans knew that not all farmers liked people coming onto their land. Since this house was hidden from the road, he had been afraid the owner wouldn’t welcome them.

Hans hopped out of the wagon and shook the man’s hand. “We’re trying to find out something about the Mitchell family who live between here and the river.”

“You and your missus want to come up to the house for a cold drink of water?”

Hans knew that if the man knew they were unmarried and traveling alone, he would get the wrong idea about Constance, so he didn’t correct the man. He wasn’t sure Constance noticed. If she had any questions, he would answer them after they were on the road again.

“We had some just a bit ago. Thank you, anyway. What can you tell me about the Mitchells?”

“You’re not the law, are you? No one’s in trouble?”

Hans shook his head. “Constance’s father wanted her to look up his army buddy, Jim.”

The farmer stuck the pitchfork into the dirt and leaned one arm on the top. “Jim and his brother came back after the war.” He pulled a bandanna out of the back pocket of his overalls and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “They was ‘round here for a couple of years.” He stuffed the handkerchief back into the pocket but left most of it hanging out, probably to dry.

“About a year ago, both the old man and his wife took real sick. The brothers tried to nurse them back to health, but it didn’t work. After their parents died, those boys hightailed it out of here, and we ain’t heard from them since.” He put his other arm across the one on the handle of the tool. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Hans scuffed his toe through the dirt on the lane. “Has anyone else been interested in the farm?”

“Not so’s I know. Jim and his brother asked us to look after the place for them. We keep an eye on it, but I haven’t seen anyone nosing around.”

Hans studied the man’s expression. He felt sure the farmer was telling the truth, but since this farm was cut off from the road by all the trees, the man might not know if anyone went up there.

“Thank you for the information.” Hans stuck out his hand, and the farmer shook it before hefting the pitchfork back across his shoulder.

The man pointed to a grassy area on the other side of the lane. “You can turn your wagon around over there. There ain’t no soft spots where you kin get stuck.”

Back out on the road, Constance finally spoke. “You didn’t tell him we weren’t married.”

Hans nodded. “I know.”

“Why not?”

He glanced at her to see if she looked angry. Thankfully, she didn’t. “I thought it would be better for your reputation if he didn’t think you were single.”

“But isn’t that lying?”

“I didn’t tell a lie. I just let him think what he wanted to.”

This conversation was taking them nowhere. Hans wished he could get her to open up to him and tell him the real reason she was so intent on finding Jim Mitchell. There could be all kinds of reasons. Maybe her father promised her to Mr. Mitchell, and he wanted her to fulfill the promise. But she didn’t look as if she were trying to find her intended.