1879, Nebraska: A naive young woman with a wild imagination. A practical man with responsibilities.
"One more day."
If Hannah Benton can keep her posture straight and daydreams in check for one more day, sheâll be gloriously free. Eager to make a new life on her twin brotherâs sheep farm in Okelbo, Nebraska, Hannah agrees to a trial period away from home. But she has no intention of ever returning to her motherâs suffocating restrictions. All she needs to make the move permanent is a husband, and she has three whole months to find a man and marry him.
Tobias Franklin maintains perfect control of his life, running Franklin Brickworks and courting a young lady he likes well enough. Between his charming sister and toddler son, heâs content. When a flying corset and a copy of *Frankenstein* redirects his path, his simple life takes a turnâright into the arms of spirited Hannah Claire Benton, a woman who makes him question how much control he ever really had in the first place.
After an accident lands Tobias in Hannahâs care, can God form a life-changing friendship out of their stubborn hearts?
1879, Nebraska: A naive young woman with a wild imagination. A practical man with responsibilities.
"One more day."
If Hannah Benton can keep her posture straight and daydreams in check for one more day, sheâll be gloriously free. Eager to make a new life on her twin brotherâs sheep farm in Okelbo, Nebraska, Hannah agrees to a trial period away from home. But she has no intention of ever returning to her motherâs suffocating restrictions. All she needs to make the move permanent is a husband, and she has three whole months to find a man and marry him.
Tobias Franklin maintains perfect control of his life, running Franklin Brickworks and courting a young lady he likes well enough. Between his charming sister and toddler son, heâs content. When a flying corset and a copy of *Frankenstein* redirects his path, his simple life takes a turnâright into the arms of spirited Hannah Claire Benton, a woman who makes him question how much control he ever really had in the first place.
After an accident lands Tobias in Hannahâs care, can God form a life-changing friendship out of their stubborn hearts?
Nebraska, June 1, 1879
âPsst.â
Hannah Benton jerked awake at her motherâs hiss and the sting of the accompanying pinch.
âDonât make a spectacle of yourself.â Mother motioned for Hannah to sit up straight. âBobbing your head like a regular layabout. You may be exiling yourself to the frontier, but you neednât neglect your upbringing the moment we cross the river.â She snapped her fan open and eyed the other passengers on their train.
âWe crossed the Missouri hours ago, Mother.â Hannah yawned, but she closed her mouth before adding that her upbringing hadnât done her any favors yet. She fidgeted on the not-so-soft bench she shared with her mother and smoothed her gloved hands along the lap of her stifling green travel suit.
âBridle your tongue, child. If I could turn this train around I would. Itâs bad enough your father agreed to this, and itâs only by the grace of God himself your brother hasnât been kicked to death by his oxen or pigs or whatever heâs playing with on his homestead.â Amanda Benton sat perfectly still, aside from the twitch of her wrist that kept her fan moving. âI donât need your prattle with the rest of my pains today.â
Hannah turned her face to the aisle to hide another yawn. âHiram isnât playing homestead.â She shook her head, chiding herself for speaking aloud. He isnât playing at anything. Heâs finally escaped your clutches and will do whatever it takes to stay out from under your thumb.
Words tumbled from Hannahâs mouth before she could lock them up. âHe has sheep anyhow.â Which you would know if you paid attention to anything weâve been telling you.
The vibrant June grass and rolling landscape seemed to hold Motherâs interest outside the window for the time. She ran a finger along the high collar of her charcoal suit. âWith Hiram gone, I prayed your sharp tongue would settle. Why God cursed me with twins, Iâll never know. If you survive the winter together, itâll be a surprise. Youâll find soon enough that books canât be eaten.â She muttered the rest. âYou with your distractions and he with his animals. Neither one of you with a care for reality.â
Her motherâs suit was impeccable. Somehow, it didnât reveal the evidence of their two-day trip as Hannahâs did. Motherâs dark hair with a few silver highlights was swept into a simple chignon with a neat straw hat fastened to the side. A deep burgundy ribbon and a plume of feathers accented the hat, dyed gray to match her suit. Hannah wore one of her own in green pinned atop her mess of hair, black as ink.
Down the aisle, men in suits read the paper. A mother with a toddler sprawled across her lap rested her head against the window, hat askew. The father, arm around his wife and child, slept with his head at a sharp angle. Another son sat facing his parents, lost in a copy of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. Hannahâs own copy nestled between Frankenstein and Shakespeareâs Hamlet in her trunk a few cars behind with the luggage.
âFarming.â Her motherâs fan flicked open and shut, joining the rant Hannah heard every week since Hiram left Des Moines in February. âI would never have dreamed it for my children. Son of a surgeon, the world at his feet, mere months from taking his own practice, and he throws it away to live in a dusty, barren field.â
Outside the window, the telegraph wires, drooping and rising, drooping and rising, pulled Hannahâs gaze. What important messages zipped back and forth? Hannah saw it all in her imagination. A little man with round glasses jumped in alarm when the warning came through his wire: Enemy advancing west of fortification. Send immediate reinforcement. Men and women scrambled to arms, hoisting shields and swords. Only a few of the trained warriors remained. The war against the mountain trollsâno, prairie ogresâthe war against the prairie ogres had been too fierce, too long. A woman in leather trousers and a tunic slung a water skin over her back and grabbed her spear. Originally trained as a rear guard, she was their battalionâs best scout. She ran along the leeward side of the army. Was leeward a nautical term? Could she scout leeward on land?
Her mother tapped her fan on the window. âHow much longer do you suppose? This car is beginning to sway again. We can put a man into a drug-induced sleep, remove his appendix, and he lives to brag about it, but we havenât discovered traveling in comfort. What would it take to knock some heads together and insulate this car? The dust that blows through is insufferable.â She gently stretched her shoulders up and slowly relaxed them with her breath as if it took every ounce of willpower to sit another minute through the torture. âIt all comes down to money. Theyâll charge whatever they like to poor folks like us and stuff their pockets. Never you mind how it should be spent to increase the passengersâ comfort.â
Hannah lifted her gaze to the ceiling and rolled her neck, breathing through her own rising tension of a different sort. They were likely the wealthiest passengers in the car, perhaps the whole train, since the major cities had been left behind on this spur.
A sleek, shiny rail car took shape in Hannahâs thoughts. No, scaled. A machine with scales like a serpent. Yes. Hannah closed her eyes. A graceful dragon taking flight with a mere leap into the air and then only wind. Rushing wind? A gentle breeze. The dragon flight surpassed all forms of travel. Soaring high enough to drown her motherâs voice, Hannah clenched her fists in her lap. Sheâd packed her drawing book and pencils away. They were safe. Hidden. Drawing fanciful creatures or machines in flight in front of Mother would never do. Not when she must be on her absolute best behavior. Hannah was finished after all. Eight years of finishing school had taught her how to hide her personality if nothing else.
âSit up, child.â Her mother flicked her fan against Hannahâs knee.
How to hide it most of the time. âYes, Mother.â Twenty-one. She was twenty-one years old, and her mother treated her like a mischievous ten-year-old. If this was a self-imposed exile to Hiramâs homestead, so be it. But no. She was not being exiled. Nebraska, though vast, could hardly be considered the frontier. After all, it was admitted to the Union twelve years ago. More than enough time for civilization to take root. However, neglecting her upbringing was her favorite daydream. What good would it do out here?
Des Moines wasnât exactly a metropolis. Nothing like Chicago had been, but it was growing faster than it could keep up. She had no qualms removing herself from the odor of the expanding city, no matter how many fancy shops were added downtown.
Ten years ago, Hannahâs father moved his family of four to work as the head surgeon for Saint Maryâs Hospital. Her mother fussed about the slums on the edges of town with the tents and shacks of the multiple coal mining operations, but she quickly found her place in high society at the city center. The whole lot blinded themselves. Especially the insurance giants of the business district who pretended they werenât drinking the same water as thousands of coal miners. Motherâs days were filled with social engagements, from charity board meetings to dress fittings, and Hannah wanted no part of it.
A smile tugged the corner of Hannahâs mouth, but she suppressed it. One more day. In mere hours, Hannah would be delivered to her brother Hiram and revel in the distance from her mother. If letting a sleepy head bob on a train made her a spectacle, she looked forward to the motherless possibilities of the West. Perhaps sheâd venture into the sunshine with her face fully exposed to the warm rays and let her bare feet dig into mud. Hannah wiggled her toes in her pinched shoes, and a giggle slipped out.
Mother glared with puckered lips as if sheâd bitten a lemon.
Turning away, Hannah watched the family across the aisle. The bleary-eyed father adjusted the angle of the sleeping child on his wifeâs lap before his own eyes fluttered shut again.
âDonât. Stare.â Her mother hissed through clenched teeth.
âYes, Mother.â The recurring fear that Mother would attempt to keep Hannah from staying churned in her stomach. The plan was simple. Hiram would meet them at the depot, and their mother would refuse to visit his homestead. Hannah ignored the small measure of guilt from letting her assume Hiram lived in a sod house a full dayâs ride from town. After one night in a hotel, a tearful goodbyeâjoyful tearsâtheyâd plop Mother on the eastbound train.
Hiram would bring Hannah to his homestead two miles from town.
And then freedom.
Glorious freedom.
Hiram insisted all would be well, so Hannah forced her fists to open and relax as the reassurance from his letters ran through her mind again. Focusing on her posture, she slowed her anxious breathing. Now was not the time to prod her mother but instead, to encourage the belief that her upbringing was fully intact.
Hannah pulled from her satchel The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth, Volume 1, a gift from her mother on her last birthday. Though what she really wanted to finish was the published work of Anna Leonowens and her adventures in Siam. If Mother saw her reading Wordsworth, it might soften her disposition. One could dream.
âHannah, dear, Iâm worried about you and Hiram. I donât understand why you canât settle in the city with the rest of us. Mrs. Preston says they donât even have piped water in most of the state. Whyever would you give up the city for this wasteland?â
Motherâs whining was unbecoming to a lady of her stature. Hannah squeezed her hand before offering the book of poetry. âHere, Mother. Read something nice. Take your mind off the stress of the day. Thereâs a lovely poem on the second page, just there.â
The soured look on her motherâs thin face deepened, but she took the book nonetheless.
Hannah blinked her eyes shut, but the telegraph wires continued to travel through her mind, drooping and rising, until Mother slapped the book shut and thumped it on Hannahâs lap.
âYouâre giving up piped water to keep house for Hiram, who gave up piped water to play with pigs. Will someone please explain the logic behind this nonsense?â Mother refused to acknowledge her children didnât want to live under her rule anymore and jumping states was the best way to go about it. âThe excuses you crafted the past year are not convincing anyone.â
Hannah built an imaginary bronze shield to protect the back of the manâs head in front. He would need something to block the arrows shooting from Motherâs expression.
âNobody in their right mind desires the adventure of self-sufficiency to the point they willingly dig in the dirt for their own food. If Hiram needed to prove himself self-sufficient, Nicholas would have let him the guest house until he was established enough to buy a place of his own.â Her fan sped faster and faster in time with her rant. âBoth of my children. Turning their backs in the same year. There wonât be anyone suitable for the two of you to marry so far from proper civilization. A blessing in that, at least. I donât care what youâve said about Ockelboââ
âItâs OH-ckelbo, Mother. With the long O. OH-kul-boe. Ockelbo. Itâs Swedish.â
For her troubles, Hannahâs knee received a smack from the fan.
âI donât care if itâs Swedish, English, or Turkish, with barely a thousand in populace, it canât be anything worthwhile. It doesnât even have . . .â Mother turned her face to the window releasing a shuddering breath.
âHave what, Mother?â
âOh! Piped water among other things. Why would you choose it?â She snapped the fan open and immediately shut it again.
One more day. Hannah would be on her best behavior for one more day. And then . . .
Well.
And then she would live.
Wildflower on the Prairie by Tash Hackett is set in Nebraska in 1879. Readers of historical fiction, of which I am one, will discover Hannah Benton, a young woman, who seeks a new life. She finally persuades her overbearing mother to allow her to travel with her mother to Okelbo, Nebraska where her brother has a sheep farm.
Hannahâs plan is to send their mother home and to remain with her brother.
However, Hannah has her work cut out for her because her mother does not think the sheep farm is the right place for Hannah. Her mother also wants to continue controlling Hannah, and Hannah strains under the restrictions.
Persuading her mother to allow her three months on the sheep farm as a trial, Hannah sees the freedom from her mother as a way to find a husband and escape her motherâs clutches. She desperately wants to make a life of her own.
Hannah meets Tobias Franklin who has been courting Maribeth Collier for some time, but they had not become engaged. Tobias feels content to let his relationship with Maribeth slide along comfortably. Then an unfortunate accident finds Tobias in Hannahâs care.
Readers may jump ahead to see a new relationship forming. What will happen as Hannah cares for Tobias? Too, will Hannahâs mother allow her to remain in Nebraska since the distance between them doesnât allow the mother to control her daughter? Without providing any spoilers, this reviewer recommends that readers discover what happens to Hannah for themselves.
In a time when women had so little control over their own lives, Hannah is determined to find her own path. Readers must admire that kind of wherewithal and spunk. Readers in book clubs will find Wildflower on the Prairie a book with a number of discussion points, thereby making it a good book for a book club.