Envy of Gardens

CHAPTER ONE

Dakota Territory, 1888

Ingrid Olson wrung the last piece of laundry out and placed it in the basket beside her. She sat back on her knees and watched the water flow by for a time, then rose to her feet and stretched her aching muscles. A strand of unruly ashen hair cascaded down her face as she kneaded her back with her fists, which had been troubling her often lately. It served as a constant reminder of her increasing age. She was nearing forty and couldn't keep up with chores the way she used to. Karl, her seven-year-old son, had started school, which left Ingrid tending to the homestead on her own. It seemed there wasn't enough time in the day to get everything done. She sighed then picked her basket up, balanced it on her hip, and headed back up the path to the cabin they lived in. Their property wasn't large by any means, so why was it so hard to manage?

There was a chill in the wind, proof of the fast-approaching winter. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders and shivered at the thought. The winter months in the Dakota Territories were harsh and unforgiving, and she still had several things to do to ensure they were prepared. She figured they had until the end of November at the very latest before the first snow fell. That meant she had only a month and a half to go hunting and fill the ice house with enough meat to last, can as many food items as she could to store in the pantry, make jams out of the dried berries she had saved, sew a winter coat for Karl, do patchwork on the barn walls so the animals would stay warm during the blizzards, repair the roof of the house so it wouldn't cave in on them from the weight of the snow, prepare the garden for spring, harvest the hay and place it in the barn to hold the milk cows and horses off, sell some of her homemade goods to buy the things she couldn't make herself, make boots out of the elk hide she had stored, chop firewood, and the list went on and on.

She sighed with the weight of her burden. Things had been so much easier before her husband, Tobias, had gone to Seattle to help on the fishing boats over a year ago. To this day she still didn't understand his rationale for going. Why leave when he had everything he needed right here? A home, a son, a wife, good friends. She figured it was just pure wanderlust. Most of the men who had come west had itchy feet and just couldn't settle—they had to keep going until they ran out of room. That's exactly what Tobias had done, using the excuse of needing more money. Was it truly necessary to go all the way to Seattle for that, though?

There were plenty of jobs closer to home that paid handsomely if one were willing to work hard. It wasn't as if they were desolate, which was more than a lot of folks who had tried to settle here could say. They succeeded where so many had failed and were actually quite comfortable before he ran off. So why did he lust after more? She had always been taught that the simple things in life were the most important—that she should never want more than what was needed to survive and be comfortable. Though, she wasn't too proud to admit she was potentially settling for subpar with that line of thinking. Perhaps Tobias simply wasn't willing to do the same.

She reached the clothesline in her backyard and started hanging her laundry to dry. Anger furrowed her brow as it always did when she thought about her husband. Nine months and not a single letter, which meant no monetary support either. If financials were his reason for leaving, then where was all the money they were supposed to be swimming in by now? And better yet, where was he? A thought entered her head, scaring her as it did every time it came.

He abandoned you. He abandoned his son.

She cringed and pushed that damning speculation away. Ingrid had to go on believing he would be back, that he left because he thought it was good for the family. She had to believe it so she could keep going, and most of all she had to believe it for Karl. How he adored his father. Tears threatened to pool in her eyes, so she quickly finished her job and headed towards the barn. The dairy cow needed to be milked. Ingrid could already hear her bawling in her stall.