Prologue
Manhattan, Kansas
“Can’t I have just one more month?” Naomi pleaded with the banker, a portly man with thin to no hair and round glasses on the tip of his big nose.
He raised both eyebrows, steepled his fingers on top of all the papers strewn on his desk, which was loaded with files and ledgers, and looked her up and down.
“I’m afraid the answer is no, Mrs. Rabe,” he declared with a flat tone, his deadpan stare cold.
“You’ve had two months already, this being the third with no progress.
Unfortunately, we can’t hold unpaid mortgages for longer than ninety days.
Today is day eighty-nine. Unless you come up with the money by noon tomorrow, plus interest, of course, the bank will foreclose the house that same day, and it will be put up for sale immediately, to recoup any incurred costs on our behalf. ”
“But there is nowhere else we can go,” Naomi exclaimed helplessly, defiantly holding back the tears burning behind her eyes. “I have a four-year-old daughter! Do you expect us to sleep in the streets?” The man sighed heavily.
“Look, as sad as your situation is, I can’t help you,” he said, pulling his lips into a thin line.
“Your late husband had no provisions in place to care for you and your child in the event of…well, his death. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have other customers waiting…
” He didn’t finish his sentence, just shot his eyes toward the door.
Naomi got up from her chair, grabbed her daughter’s tiny hand, and walked straight out of the office without so much as a good-bye.
The helplessness of it all was so depressing; their way back home dragged as if they were trudging through sludge.
She had sold their horse and buggy weeks ago, just so that they could buy supplies for a month, but walking everywhere took them almost three hours each way to and from town.
It made rationing their food all the more difficult.
She looked down at her sweet little daughter, Wendy, who had no idea what was in store for them.
She looked so innocent with her little pigtails, her glossy chestnut brown hair bouncing happily as they walked, while she hummed a made-up song.
When she looked up at her, her green eyes shone brightly in the late afternoon sun, and she crunched her little nose, which was peppered with cute freckles.
People said that she was the spitting image of Naomi, with the same hair, the same face, and button nose.
Their only difference were Naomi’s golden colored eyes.
“I want muffins,” she promptly announced, because she’d seen ones with colorful icing on top in the window of the bakery. The bank was located in a fancy neighborhood, so all the things that were sold there were fancy too. And very much unobtainable. “Can we make some?”
Thinking of the few items they had in their home, Naomi knew that they didn’t have the right ingredients to bake anything.
The last time she’d seen an egg had been before the fox had killed the last of their chickens six weeks ago, and flour sounded like an unnecessary luxury they simply could not afford. Let alone butter.
“I’ll see what we can do,” Naomi said to her, even though she knew it was a lie, but she didn’t want to crush her daughter’s idea immediately. She felt guilty for hoping that her four-year-old mind would forget about it.
It was a sunny day with a deep blue sky and almost no wind, so it wasn’t too cold.
Since it was the first week of November, winter was already on their doorstep, and it wouldn’t take long before the temperatures dropped dangerously low.
At this point, Naomi had no idea what they were going to do, or where they’d end up, and if they could survive the coming winter.
Dear God, please! We really need Υour help now. What are we going to do?
Since her husband’s untimely death a little over three months ago, when people had found him outside the saloon, their entire life had come crashing down like an avalanche rolling down a steep mountain.
That’s how Naomi felt—buried—because Harrison had left them with nothing but debt and unsolved problems.
Thinking back, she should have never married him.
Losing both of her parents at barely thirteen, she’d been forced to find her own way, but despite her young age, she’d found employ as a kitchen aid in one of those large, fancy homes on the outskirts of town.
She’d been safe, she’d worked hard and saved up every penny she earned.
She’d managed all right before she’d met him.
At only seventeen, Naomi had been completely innocent and na?ve when Harrison Rabe had swept her off her feet, luring her into the woods, all under the promise that he would marry her one day.
Unfortunately, that day had come rather quickly when Naomi found out that she was pregnant, and Harrison’s wealthy parents forced him to marry her.
She hadn’t known better at the time and thought it was the right thing to do.
Although Harrison had never treated her with a lot of respect, Naomi had been so very excited to gain a new family with him and his parents, and she’d hoped to win his heart over time.
But as it turned out, his parents were just as mean and kicked them out of their big house as soon as the baby was born.
Suddenly being forced to give up his cushy lifestyle back home, having to work for a living, had changed Harrison’s personality drastically.
Naomi secretly knew that he’d resented her for all of it, because he’d treated her terribly.
She’d spent most nights alone, and whenever he’d shown his face, he’d been drunk and violent to the point that she’d even stopped questioning him, since he liked to answer her with his leather belt.
I’m still wearing the scars from his angry outbursts, she thought bitterly.
There had been plenty of nights when she wanted to take the baby and leave, but she’d had no money and no home other than what Harrison provided.
As a young mother, she’d depended on him completely.
He wasn’t a good provider. He’d never handed her a penny, forcing her to make do with whatever supplies he gave her, which had never been enough.
As she found out later, most of his earnings went for liquor and gambling, which had racked up quite a debt.
Since his death, she’d been forced to sell whatever she could to survive, all the while fighting off debtors showing up at her house, demanding money she knew nothing of and didn’t have. Some threatened to harm her and Wendy, so all of it was a very stressful situation.
She’d even tried to get back on her feet by working again, but since she didn’t have anybody to watch Wendy in the meantime, trying to find employment was impossible.
And tomorrow we’ll lose the house, she thought, defeated. Where do we go from here?
Walking up to the humble little one-story building she and Wendy called home, Naomi released a heavy sigh, but Wendy was smiling up at her with so much love, Naomi fought to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. She refused to show Wendy how bad things had gotten.
At least, her daughter didn’t miss her father very much, because she’d hardly spent time with him. She didn’t know much of what was happening, and that was how Naomi wanted it. She wanted to preserve her daughter’s childhood innocence for as long as she could.
“Can we make muffins?” Wendy asked with big eyes as they walked up the two rickety steps to the front door. “I’m hungry!”
“I know, Sweetheart,” Naomi replied. “But muffins aren’t for dinner,” she explained. “They are a treat and only for very special occasions, you know?” Wendy looked disappointed.
“Today is not special?” she asked with a hopeful expression, which vanished when Naomi slowly shook her head. Wendy mimicked her heavy sigh.
She opened the door, wondering if today was the day it would finally fall off its hinges.
By the way the house looked, the bank wouldn’t get much for it.
It sat on the northern outskirts of the large cattle ranch Harrison had last worked at, and it was rather practical than pretty with one bedroom and one living space, in which they cooked, ate, and lived.
Harrison had never put any money or time into repairing the place, hence the reason it looked more and more like a decrepit shack. At least, the door held.
Walking inside, Naomi could only hope that the mice hadn’t gotten into the porridge she’d made this morning. There was only a little bit left, but it would have to do for tonight. Once they left here, that was it.
She saw that the fist-sized rock still sat on top of the lid of the pot, which was her way of preventing rodents from getting into their cooked food.
Naomi took it off the lid, poured the rest of the porridge into a small bowl, mixing it with a little bit of water, so it wouldn’t be too thick, and put it in front of Wendy on the table.
Naomi hadn’t eaten in two days, but she would go hungry again, as long as her daughter could eat.
“I’m sorry, angel. This is all we have for tonight,” Naomi said apologetically. Wendy stared at the bowl, her shoulders visibly sinking.
“Are you gonna eat?” she asked, looking up at her. Naomi shook her head.
“I’m not hungry, Sweetheart. It’s all yours,” she said encouragingly, as she ignored the stabbing hunger pains in her stomach. Wendy wasn’t thrilled about the food. She’d been eating it for a week now.
“Are we gonna say grace?” she finally asked, and Naomi kneeled next to her to be at eye level with her child. She couldn’t help it; she had to kiss her cheek.
“Are you going to say it with me?” She asked with an inviting smile, and Wendy nodded. Naomi’s heart was overflowing with love for her daughter, and she had to blink away the sudden moisture in her eyes.