Hattie Big Sky Read Online Free

station, though not quite at the appointed time. Isn’t it fascinating how long a few minutes seem when you are completely alone—except for a valiant tabby companion—at a strange train depot with not a familiar face in sight? You would be proud of me for putting a plan into action when I realized I may have to rely on my own resources.

    I shivered and tucked my mittened hands under my arms to warm them. I had no idea how long the trip to Wolf Point would be for Perilee and her family. And in this weather! What if something had happened on the way? What if they couldn’t come? What if their horse broke a leg and they had no way to travel? What if—
    My hand went to my mother’s watch. I could use some of the Wright backbone now. My teeth pounded out a frozen rhythm in the icy air. Standing here on the platform was not a reasonable course of action. I might freeze to death before the Muellers arrived. A sign down the way advertised “Hotel.” It was too darn cold to debate much longer. I left my trunk, grabbed my valise and Mr. Whiskers, and started off down the snow-lined street.
    I was not ten paces from the train station when I heard a woman’s voice. “Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Might you be Hattie Brooks?”
    A few moments late but certainly true to her word, Perilee Mueller did meet me at the station. Her husband brought the wagon to a creaking stop, and she hopped out.
    â€œOh, I was afraid we were going to be late.” She hurried to me. “Mattie couldn’t find Mulie.”
    I’m certain she thought this explanation was clear as crystal, but I couldn’t fathom one word of it. I managed a weak smile. “You must be Perilee Mueller.” Perilee was what Aunt Ivy would’ve called plain. Her long nose sat at odds with her round face. Rusty brown hair scrambled every which way on her head, and she walked with an ungraceful limp. No, Perilee would not turn heads. But when she smiled a welcome to me, I thought her an equal to Bebe Daniels, my favorite film star.
    She took my valise and looked me up and down. “Yes, I can see the family resemblance.”
    â€œReally?” I touched the brim of my hat. “I never met Uncle Chester.”
    â€œHe was mighty good to me,” she said. “We’re glad to help you for his sake.” She opened her arms as if to enfold me in a hug. I deflected her by holding Mr. Whiskers between us. Her smile flickered uncertainly, then lit up her homely face again.
    â€œAnd for my own. You’ll be my nearest neighbor. I’m dying for some woman talk!”
    â€œIt’s so kind of you to meet me,” I said. “And give me a ride to my new home.”
    â€œPish-posh.” Perilee waved her plump hand. “It’s a badge of honor! New folks are big news here. I’ll be a celebrity for a month.” She led me over to the wagon and introduced me to the tall, rugged man in the driver’s seat. “This is Karl.”
    â€œGuten Tag.”
Karl nodded.
    â€œH-h-hello,” I stammered, surprised at his greeting.
“Guten Tag,”
I replied, using the very little German I’d learned in school. Karl smiled, handed Perilee the reins, then strode back the few steps to the platform to get my trunk. He carried it over as if it were full of feathers.
    Perilee nudged me into the wagon, climbed up herself, and tucked us under a huge woolen blanket. She pointed back to the wagon bed. “And this here’s Chase—he’s eight—and Mattie’s six—she’s our little magpie—and the baby’s Fern.”
    â€œHello, children.” I counted heads. “But which one’s Mulie?”
    Mattie held up a rag doll with a distinct bald spot on her black yarn head. “Why, she’s right here!” The doll danced a jig in Mattie’s mittened hands. “She says she’s very pleased to meet you.”
    There was something so serious in