December 19, 1917 Arlington, Iowa

Dear Charlie,

Miss Simpson starts every day with a reminder to pray for you--and all the other boys who enlisted. Well, I say we should pray for the Kaiser--he's going to need those prayers once he meets you!

I ran into your mother today at Uncle Holt's store. She said word is you are heading for England soon, France after that. I won't hardly be able to look at the map behind Miss Simpson's desk now; it will only remind me of how far you are from Arlington.

Mr. Whiskers says to tell you he's doing fine. It's been so cold, I've been letting him sleep in my bedroom. If Aunt Ivy knew, she'd pitch a fit. Thank goodness she finally decided I was too big to switch or my legs would be striped for certain.

You should see Aunt Ivy. She's made herself a cunning white envelope of a hat with a bright red cross stitched on the edge. She wears it to all the Red Cross meetings. Guess she wants to make sure everybody knows she's a paid-up member. She's been acting odd lately; even asked me this morning how was I feeling. First time in years she's inquired about my health. Peculiar. Maybe this Red Cross work has softened her heart.

Mildred Powell's knitting her fifth pair of socks; they're not all for you, so don't get swell-headed. She's knitting them for the Red Cross. All the girls at school are. But I suspect the nicest pair she knits will be for you.

You must cut quite the figure in your uniform. A figure eight! (Ha, ha.) Seriously, I am certain you are going to make us all proud.

Aunt Ivy's home from her meeting and calling for me. I'll sign off now but will write again soon.

Your school friend, Hattie Inez Brooks


I blotted the letter and slipped it in an envelope. Aunt Ivy wouldn't think twice about reading anything she found lying around, even if it was in my own room, on my own desk.

"Hattie," Aunt Ivy called again. "Come down here!"

To be on the safe side, I slipped the envelope under my pillow, still damp from my good cry last night. Not that I was like Mildred Powell, who hadn't stopped boo-hooing since Charlie left. Only Mr. Whiskers and my pillow knew about my tears in the dark over Charlie. I did fret over his safety, but it was pure and sinful selfishness that wet my eyes at night.

In all my sixteen years, Charlie Hawley was one of the nicest things to happen to me. It was him who'd stuck up for me when I first came to live with Aunt Ivy and Uncle Holt, so shy I couldn't get my own name out. He'd walked me to school that very first day and every day after. Charlie was the one who'd brought me Mr. Whiskers, a sorry-looking tomcat who purred his way into my heart. The one who'd taught me how to pitch, and me a southpaw. So maybe I did spend a night now and then dreaming silly girl dreams about him, even though everyone knew he was sweet on Mildred. My bounce-around life had taught me that dreams were dangerous things--they look solid in your mind, but you just try to reach for them. It's like gathering clouds.

The class had voted to see Charlie off at the station. Mildred clung to his arm. His father clapped him on the back so often, I was certain he'd end up bruised. Miss Simpson made a dull speech as she presented Charlie with a gift from the school: a wool stocking cap and some stationery.

"Time to get aboard, son," the conductor called.

Something shifted in my heart as Charlie swung his foot up onto the train steps. I had told myself to hang back--didn't want to be lumped in with someone like Mildred--but I found myself running up to him and slipping something in his hand. "For luck!" I said. He glanced at the...

 

Orphaned at age 16, Hattie longs for a place where folks will welcome her and become her family. When an uncle leaves her a claim of 320 acres in Montana, she hastens to make a home of her own, unprepared for life on the prairie in the brutal winter of 1918. With considerable humor, Kirsten Potter employs a variety of old-fashioned Western accents to differentiate the cast of colorful characters. Potter excels at conveying the emotions that run high as Hattie faces the challenges of homestead life, including the bigotry of neighbors against the German-American friends who have helped her in every way. Meticulous research in archives and family materials gives this saga an authenticity that will captivate listeners. R.H.H. (c) AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine

 

★ "Larson creates a masterful picture of the homesteading experience and the people who persevered."

 

Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson
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