“Very well.” The banker made a note, then tucked the money bag away. “And in addition, you, Miss Larkspur Nielsen, wish to file a claim to homestead the adjoining section of land, also one hundred sixty acres, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Lark sat tall.
“And you are aware of the terms required in order to homestead as a single woman, namely, that you must be the head of your household, that you must reside on the land five years without more than a six-month absence, that you must improve the land faithfully, and that you must refrain from marriage until your five-year residency is complete, unless you choose to acquire final title by purchase after living on the land at least six months?”
“I am.”
“Fine.” He pushed another paper toward Lark with a nod. “Sign here.”
Lark signed, then laid down the pen. “Anything else, sir?”
“Guess that’ll do it.” Mr. Young gathered and stacked the papers, then palmed the money bag and stood with a grunt. “Quite a venture you young women are undertaking, homesteading and farming without a man to your names. Keep in mind that if you fail in your first attempt to homestead, the government considers you no longer eligible for another claim.”
“We don’t intend to fail.” Lark stood, her slender frame taller than the banker’s. “Can we go out to our land? Is it ours?”
“It appears to be.” The portly man touched his hat and tipped his head toward the door. “Good day to you, ladies.”
“Thank you.” Lark’s calico skirts swept as regally as a queen’s as they filed out of the office.
Once out in the sunshine of the street, Lark turned to her sisters. A smile skipped from her face to each of theirs.
Forsythia even felt the knot in her stomach loosen. She reached for Lark’s hand and squeezed it. “Let’s thank the Lord. And then go home.”
Their new home.
An hour later, Forsythia turned a full circle within the four walls of the sod house on their property, scanning the darkened space. A bit tight for four women and three children, but they’d make do. At least until they could add on or build a real wooden house.
“I never thought I’d be so excited about a house with roots hanging from the ceiling.” Beside her, Lilac threw her arms wide. “But it’s so nice to have a roof and walls again, even if it’s only sod.”
“I agree. But it certainly is—well, dirty.” Forsythia wrinkled her nose. Even the air was redolent of earth. There might only be so much they could do to keep a sod house clean, but she aimed to try. “Let’s start wiping off the furniture, at least.”
The homesteader had left a rope-strung bed, a table and chairs, and a cabinet, along with a small woodstove. All covered with a layer of dirt that had sifted down from the ceiling.
Rag in hand, Forsythia wiped the table, then the stove. “We’ve got to find out how to harden the floor so we’re not kicking up dirt all the time. I know there are ways. Where is Del?”
“Planting the rosebushes and apple tree starts. She couldn’t wait to get them in the ground,” Lilac said.
Of course. Forsythia smiled and stepped to the open doorway to shake out her rag.
Del crouched near the door, patting soil around a rosebush with the help of Robbie and Sofie. They were a bit scraggly, but the bushes had survived, as had two of the three apple tree seedlings.
“I thought I’d plant the trees over there.” Del nodded. “Close enough to the house to give some shade, but not so close that we’re stepping on fallen apples.”
“I like apples.” Robbie looked up with a grin, his face dirt-smudged.
“I yike app-uhs too.” Sofie nodded and gave the dirt an extra pat.
Forsythia smiled and picked her up. “We all like apples, little one.” She hugged the little girl, who was growing a bit sturdier these days, then blew softly under her dimpled chin. Sofie giggled and squirmed to get down. Forsythia lowered her and crouched to touch one of the rosebush’s withered leaves. “Makes it feel like we’re really coming home, doesn’t it? Planting Ma’s roses.”
“That’s what I thought.” Del dashed a grimy hand against her cheek. “Our first start on Leah’s Garden, you know?”
“Someday we’ll have a sign up with that name.” Forsythia shaded her eyes and gazed across the land—their land. “We’ll have flowers growing everywhere you can see.”
“We’ll sell seeds and starts, all kinds of things.” Larkspur walked up, a spade in her hand. “But to begin with, we need to see what we can still get planted in the garden. The soil’s already been dug up for a garden plot. It just needs a little going over to loosen it again after the rains.”
Lilac stepped out of the house. “It’s late for planting, but we could still put in beans, potatoes, carrots, beets, lettuce, and maybe collard greens. We brought some seeds. Do you think the store will have more?”
“If not, maybe we can order them.”
“That sounds good.” Forsythia tapped her rag on her palm. “Any idea how to harden the sod floor?”
“I think you wet it down and tamp with a wooden post or something,” Lark said. “We’ll ask around. Plenty of folks around here must have experience.”
Del stood and dusted the dirt from her hands. “There. Help me get the apple trees in the ground?”
Together the sisters dug holes deep in the willing soil and settled the spindly seedlings, covering their root balls with earth.
“Lord, bless these trees and let them bear much fruit for us and to bless others.” Del sat back on her heels.
“Amen. Well done, big sister.” Forsythia hugged her.
“Since the house is close to the boundary line, we can build a barn on the homestead section. That will be a good start to improving it.” Larkspur scanned their
