What Would You Like to See More of Here?

As creatives, expressing ourselves through various forms of writing and art comes naturally to us. It is why we do what we do. At Laura's Little Houses, I enjoy sharing my thoughts with you about Laura Ingalls Wilder, her famous children's books, books that tie into Laura's life, and the shows based on or inspired by her own creativity. 

One of the best parts of blogging for the last 19 years has been interacting with all of you. Lately, I've been more focused on the Little House on the Prairie television show of my childhood. What I would really love to hear from you is what you might be looking to see at Laura's Little Houses. Do you want:

• More American history 
• More about Laura's real life 
• More Little House fanfiction
• More Little House on the Prairie character profiles
• More exploration into Laura's books, the books about other members of Laura's family, and biographies or other nonfiction tie-ins
  

Is there anything else you would like to see that I didn't mention? Please feel free to comment so that I can ensure Laura's Little Houses is a place you continue to enjoy. 

New Story: My Funny Valentine (LHOP Inspired Fan Fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos)

 

My Funny Valentine

LHOP inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos

Disclaimer: I do not own the Little House on the Prairie television series, book series, or any of the characters. I used some dialogue from “Laura Ingalls Wilder, Part 1.”

Laura was so glad that Almanzo had gone off to Mankato this morning. That would give her enough time to bake and decorate the special cake she planned for Valentine’s Day. Though she knew it was just another day filled with chores, she hoped this day would be nice.

Sometimes it felt like they had spent more of their time arguing than agreeing. Their relationship had more than its share of rocky moments. Losing the land they planned to build a house on. Breaking off their engagement. That embarrassing misunderstanding about Brenda Sue. The chaos caused by Myron and Rupert’s visit.

As Laura creamed the butter, she had to smile as she recalled the day Almanzo proposed. Her shy, quiet husband had invited her out to the lake to tell her something important. Then, he didn’t say anything at all.

When she questioned him, he said, “Sometimes it’s hard to say things.”

So, she suggested he write her a note. Seemed like a good plan… until the pencil tip broke. He fell silent again. Laura grabbed the pad from him and read, “Dearest Laura, I love you, and I want to…”

“You want to what?” she asked.

When he tried to say he wanted to sharpen the pencil, she pressed him. “Manly, look at me.” Lifting his chin, his blue eyes appeared troubled but determined. “You want to what?”

“I want you to be my wife,” he said.

At that moment, she realized what she had dreamed of since the first day they met was coming true. Almanzo loved her, and he wanted them to spend their lives together.

Blending in the sugar, Laura thought back to how much had happened since then. She felt blessed that God’s plan unfolded for the two of them just as she had hoped. There were days she wasn’t sure. Like the day she left on the train for Radner, leaving Walnut Grove and Manly behind. She couldn’t see God’s plan that morning. It seemed as far away as the Atlantic is from the Pacific. Only the resolve to start a new life for herself kept her moving forward.

Thankfully, Almanzo raced after the stagecoach, declaring his love for her. They were married that day at the blind school in Sleepy Eye. Her life as Laura Ingalls ended, and her life as Laura Ingalls Wilder had begun.

Adding baking soda, almond extract, and lemon extract to the milk, she beat that into the butter and sugar mixture. Then came the hard part: beating the salted egg whites until they were stiff.

Ugh! After ten minutes, Laura’s arm felt like it would drop off. But the stiffened egg whites didn’t slip off the platter when she tilted it. Ma had taught her well.

Laura took a bowl of flour sifted with cream of tartar and folded it into the wet mixture, alternating spoonfuls of egg whites. Then she divided the batter into two greased cake pans before sliding them into the cookstove.

“I wonder if Manly will remember this is our wedding cake. Of course, I’m not sure if it will come out as good as Ma’s.”

Laura cleaned the kitchen, preserving the yolks for Almanzo’s breakfast tomorrow morning. The rest of the day, she did her chores and waited for the cake layers to cool. Almanzo wouldn’t be back until late, so she had a small supper before making the frosting. She stirred beet juice into the white frosting to turn it pink. Then she added a few canned blueberries in sauce from her pantry in the middle to decorate the top layer. The rest of the blueberries would be yummy over pancakes.

“Pretty good, if I say so myself.” She smiled. “A bit lopsided.” Like her sister, Mary, Laura usually baked lopsided cakes.

She brewed tea and sat in the chair next to the fireplace to read until Almanzo came home.

*

Almanzo rubbed his gloved hands together. His muffler wrapped around his face, he could just see puffs of breath from Barnum and Skip’s nostrils float into the air. He never felt so happy to see the Walnut Grove sign in the center of town. Soon, he would be home.

He tapped his coat pocket and felt the bottle of perfume he bought for Laura as a Valentine’s Day gift. She would probably scold him for spending so much money on her, but Beth was worth every penny.

The beginning days of their marriage had been tense at times. He was sure that watching his nephews had spoiled any thought of her wanting children soon. He had never met two such mischief makers. Even his youngest brother, Perley Day, hadn’t been that bad.

Gosh! I haven’t thought of Perley Day in a long time. Almanzo shook his head. He wondered where Perley Day was these days. After he left Walnut Grove, he hadn’t heard from him. If his sister had, Eliza Jane didn’t mention it in any of her letters. And in thinking about Eliza Jane, he couldn’t help but think of Harve Miller. What happened between them? One day she was moving to Minneapolis to get married to Harve, and then months later, Almanzo received an odd letter saying it didn’t work out between them. Good thing that Harve Miller wasn’t still around. He would have a thing or two to say to him. But Almanzo couldn’t help but be thankful that Eliza Jane leaving meant Beth and he could live in the house he used to share with his sister.

As he pulled into the front yard, he saw the lantern burning on the table in front of the window. He was sure Beth waited up for him. She should have gone to bed. She had school to teach in the morning.

A yellow sliver of light crawled across the front porch when Laura opened the front door. “Hi, Manly!” she said, waving from the doorway.

“Howdy, Beth!” He pulled his horses to a stop. “You best get inside. It’s colder than a day-old dumpling. I’ll be in just as soon as I am done unhitching the team.”

After tending to Barnum and Skip, Almanzo brought packages from his trip into the house. Laura raced to him and threw her arms around his neck.

She shivered. “You are cold.” She pulled away his muffler and pecked his cheek. “I have tea brewing for you.”

“Thank you, Beth. I can’t remember a night so cold. I almost thought about staying in Mankato and coming home in the morning.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t have my best girl worrying about me.”

*

Manly had been calling her his best girl for years. Not always in a good way. Because of the difference in their ages, it had taken time for him to see her as a young woman. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. They had been married for over a year.

Almanzo disappeared into the kitchen while Laura put another small log on the fire. Though it was late, she would wait until he had defrosted from his journey before heading up to bed.

She heard something drop followed by Almanzo saying, “Dagburnit!”

When she raced into the kitchen, she found a half empty bottle on the table and Manly wiping up a puddle.

“What happened?”

Almanzo sighed. “I dropped half of your Valentine’s Day gift all over the place. I thought I should smell it before I gave it to you, but my fingers were still a bit numb. Slipped right out of hand.” He pointed to the plate in the center of the table. “That cake is going to smell real pretty.”

Laura’s hands flew up to her cheeks. “Oh, no! That was your Valentine’s Day gift. I thought I would recreate our wedding cake.” Tears swam in her eyes. I wanted my gift to be so special.

Almanzo opened his arms and embraced her. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to ruin it. Still looks nice anyway.” He lifted her chin and gazed into her face with his blue eyes. “You’re the only gift I’ll ever need. “I love you, Beth.”

He kissed her, and Laura’s disappointment melted away.

She smiled. “I love you, too, Manly.” Laura glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t think the perfume spilled on all of it. How about a piece of wedding cake with your tea?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m starving.”

She laughed. “You are always starving.”

Laura grabbed the perfume bottle and dabbed the flowery perfume behind her ears and on her wrists. Then she cut two slices of cake from the far side of the top layer that mostly escaped the flood of perfume.

As they sat at the table together, enjoying their gifts and conversation, Laura felt truly blessed. She knew there would be many more Valentine’s Days in the future. There would be more chances to find or make the perfect gift. In the years to come, they could laugh about this funny Valentine’s Day fiasco and cherish the memories.

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos - All Rights Reserved

Love Comes Softly Inspired Fan Fiction: Grown Ups

 

Photo credit Hallmark Channel

Grown Ups

Love Comes Softly inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos

Disclaimer: This story follows the television movie characters, not the books. I do not own the Love Comes Softly television movies, book series, or any of the characters. I used some of the dialogue from the Love Comes Softly movie. 

Missie stood in the doorway of their cabin. She clutched the locket Marty had given her this morning. I hope Pa catches the wagon train in time. 

Grown ups made no sense. Wouldn’t it have been easier for Pa to ask Marty to stay in Anderson Corner with them rather than go chasing after her? They had all been so sad this morning as they loaded up Marty’s trunk and baby Aaron’s cradle into the wagon bed. Then they drove into town without saying anything, just like the day Pa brought Marty to live with them.

Missie ran her fingers over the locket. As she looked into the store glass this morning, struggling to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks, she felt Marty’s hand on her back. She didn’t want to turn around. If she kept staring the opposite way, she wouldn’t have to see Marty and Aaron leave. Maybe she could even ignore the sounds of the wagon wheels against the dirt road as they rolled out of town.

Once Marty left, Pa and Missie drove home in silence. Somehow, she knew Pa would miss Marty just as much as she would. She once said to Marty that she wondered if her Pa could ever love someone again.

“He could, I guess,” Marty said, but her voice sounded sad, like she wasn’t sure it was possible.

Then one day, Missie found Marty and Pa standing in the yard together, out of breath and laughing. He laughed in a way she hadn’t heard in a long time. For the first time since Mama died, Pa looked happy. That’s why she got so angry when Pa told her Marty was heading back East with the wagon train. How could she just leave them? Weren’t they a family now?

When Pa and Missie returned home, she snuck over to play with the dollhouse Pa had made her for Christmas. At least the pretend people in her house could live happily ever after, like the people in the books Marty shared with her.

Pa had walked out to the lean-to to get his things. Now that Marty was gone, he would move back into the bedroom Pa and Missie had shared before Marty came to live with them. She wanted to scream no, but all she did was mumble, “Okay.”

Moments later, Pa barged back into the house screaming her name. “I’m going to bring Marty back.” He warned her not to leave the cabin. Then he turned away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He was already racing out to the yard to grab his horse.

It seemed like hours had passed as Missie waited in her tree house. She fingered the locket, praying Pa would reach Marty in time. When the sound of wagon wheels pulling into the yard reached her ears, Missie climbed down. On the wagon seat, sat Pa with Marty alongside him, cradling Aaron in her arms. 

Missie’s heart swelled. Marty’s trunk and Aaron’s cradle sat in the wagon bed. They were home to stay. 

“Mama,” Missie whispered to herself.

Then she ran into Marty’s outstretched arms and squeezed her as tight as she could. Marty kissed her forehead. As they hugged, Missie could hear Marty’s heartbeat, and she knew everything would be all right.

With her arm around Missie, Marty walked into the house, followed by Pa, who carried little Aaron. As they sat around the kitchen table, drinking tea and nibbling on this morning’s bread, Missie smiled. This was her family. This was her home. This was forever. 

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos – All Rights Reserved

Love Comes Softly Inspired Fan Fiction: Déjà vu

 

Déjà vu

 

Love Comes Softly inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos 

Disclaimer: This story follows the television movie characters, not the books. I do not own the Love Comes Softly television movies, book series, or any of the characters. 

            It had been nearly three years since Marty felt this way. She had forgotten how challenging it was to maneuver around the kitchen with a body swelling with a growing child inside. She rubbed her round stomach. Soon, Clark and she would welcome their first child together. 

            Missie was nine years old when Clark asked Marty to marry him. Several months later, she had given birth to Aaron, the baby she had been carrying when her husband died in a freak accident soon after arriving in Anderson Corner. Clark and Marty loved both of them dearly. They were also excited to add to their happy family. 

For a while, she worried she might not be able to have more children. Their friends, Sarah and Ben Graham, had a house overflowing with children. But Clark and Marty had not been so blessed. 

Marty groaned as she pushed up from the kitchen chair. Clark snickered from the doorway. 

“You should be thankful you’re not the one lugging around all this weight,” said Marty. 

Clark’s long strides easily closed the gap between them. His hazel brown eyes twinkled with delight. He reached up and caressed her cheek. “I’m thankful God saw fit to bring us together.” Then he gently placed his hand on her belly. “And I’m thankful for this life we’ve made together.” 

Marty tilted her head and smiled. “I’m bigger than old Gertie was when she carried her calves.” 

“You’re just as beautiful now, as you were the day I met you.” 

She lifted a hand to her lips to cover a smile. “Is that a compliment? The day we met, I was wearing clothes I had traveled in for days, and the rain left me with sopping wet hair.” 

They laughed together. Oh, gosh, how she loved him. A contraction squeezed her stomach, and she gripped his hand. 

Clark knitted his eyebrows. “Do you need to sit down?” 

Marty pinched her lips together, but shook her head no. She released a deep breath. “This baby isn’t due yet. My body is just getting ready.” 

“Well, hopefully, we have a bit more notice this time.” Clark pulled out a chair and helped Marty sit. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.” 

She waved him off. “I need to make supper soon.” 

“Why don’t we let Missie do that tonight? You look tired.” 

Marty felt tired, too. She didn’t recall her first pregnancy being so taxing, but she was older and raising two kids. Though at thirteen, Missie was growing into a beautiful young woman. 

After a delicious supper, Missie cleared the table. “I’ll wash the dishes tonight, Mama,” Her gaze fell upon Clark. “Then I’ll tuck Aaron into bed and read him a story.” 

Clark smiled. “Thank you, Missie. I think it’s best if your mama and I say goodnight early.” 

He offered a hand to Marty, and they walked into their bedroom. Nestled in the crook of Clark’s body, Marty drifted off to sleep. But it didn’t last long. In the middle of the night, strong contractions woke her. Suddenly, the bed felt wet. 

She shook his arm. “Clark. Clark.” 

“Mmmm…” 

She shook harder. “Clark!” 

He blinked a few times. “What?” 

“My water broke.” 

Clark lifted onto his elbow. “You’re having regular pains?” 

“Oh, yes.” She grimaced when another contraction clutched her middle. “No-time-to-get… Sarah.”

 Clark hopped out of bed and slid into his pants. “I’ll get Missie.” 

How could this be happening to her again? When she went into labor with Aaron, it came quickly enough that there wasn’t time to get their friend Sarah, who had delivered Missie. Clark and Marty had only known each other for about six months. After she screamed at him more than once to get out, as the pain increased, she realized there was no way she could deliver the baby all by herself and begged for his help. His calm demeanor and encouraging words eased her through it, despite the embarrassment. 

“God, please help us bring this baby into the world safely,” she said. 

Clark arrived with Missie, plenty of hot water, extra blankets, and his sheers from the barn.

“How can I help?” asked Missie. 

“I feel like I’ve done this before,” said Clark. Marty glowered at his attempt to lighten the mood. He cleared his throat. “Keep hot water on the stove, and make sure you watch Aaron if he wakes up.” 

“Yes, Pa.” Missie, a horrified look on her face, escaped out to the main room. 

Clark plumped Marty’s pillow and took a seat in a chair next to the bed. “We’re old hands at this,” he said, lifting her hand up to his lips. “And in a while, we will get to say hello to our newest little one.” 

Despite the pain, seeing the sheer joy shining on Clark’s face pleased her. She nodded. “Let’s pray all goes as smoothly as last time.” 

“God is always with us, Marty. You know that.” 

As the time passed, and the contractions strengthened, Clark told her stories of their times together. How he first prayed for God’s guidance in asking a young widow to marry him for the sake of his daughter. His amusement at finding a bloody axe in the yard the first time she made fried chicken. His joy in finding her in the middle of the snowstorm, and the relief in seeing her open her eyes the next morning. The disappointment of dropping her off in town the following spring when she decided to head back East, and the excitement of finding her note telling him that she didn’t want to leave. 

Every part of her body seemed to ache, and each new contraction brought with it renewed waves of pain. Marty’s long blonde hair, hung in sweaty strands around her face. “Push,” she panted. “Need to push.” 

Clark nodded and kissed her forehead before getting ready to help bring their child into the world. Though he said nothing, Marty could see his lips moving, and she knew he was praying. 

The time dragged on, but just like when he helped deliver Aaron, Clark stayed calm and encouraged her through the pain. 

“One last push, Marty. Come on now, you can do it.” 

She inhaled as deeply as she could and screamed as she pushed. Behind her closed eyes, she could see stars as the most excruciating pain ripped through her. She fell back against the pillow and panted. Seconds later, she heard a slap followed by a tiny cry. 

Clark got right to work, cleaning the baby and wrapping it up. He turned to an exhausted Marty with a wide grin that split his face. “We have a son!” He laid the baby in her arms. “We have a son,” he whispered in her ear. 

Once they were ready, Clark opened the bedroom door. Missie, with Aaron sitting on her lap, looked up with wide eyes. 

“Come see your new brother.” 

Carrying Aaron, Missie rushed in. “Oh, Mama, he’s beautiful!” She leaned over so Aaron could see. 

“Baby,” he said. 

They all laughed. 

“What’s his name?” asked Missie. 

“Arnold Joseph,” said Marty. 

“Arnold Joseph Davis,” said Clark, rubbing his chin. “Little Arnie it is.” 

“Oh, Pa, really?” said Missie. 

“Should I start calling you Melissa now?” Clark teased. 

Missie rolled her eyes. “Hello, little Arnie.” 

Clark hugged Missie and Aaron as Marty snuggled the newest Davis member closer; a powerful love washing over all of them. 

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos – All Rights Reserved

Love Comes Softly Inspired Fan Fiction: Reunited

Reunited

 Love Comes Softly inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos 

Disclaimer: This story follows the television movie characters, not the books. I do not own the Love Comes Softly television movies, book series, or any of the characters.

Clark sat at the table, reading his Bible and praising God for allowing him to find the note from Marty in time. Early this morning, he had dropped Marty and baby Aaron off in town and paid their fare for the wagon train headed back East. Though he didn’t understand why God had brought Marty into his life, just for her to leave Missie and him all alone, he trusted in God’s plan. And God had shown him that Marty and he were meant to be together… forever. 

Aaron lay asleep in his cradle, and Marty stood over the stove working on supper. Missie was outside tending to the horses. This day could have gone totally different without God’s hand in it. 

Clark walked up behind Marty and encircled her waist. Never had he thought he would find love again. He certainly didn’t expect it last fall when he asked the newly widowed Marty to marry him for the sake of his daughter. 

Marty leaned into him, and he lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. “How do you expect me to cook if you’re distracting me?” she said, even as she raised her hand to run in it through his thick brown hair. 

“I was just thinking,” he said, “when you’re ready, I would like to move back into the house.” 

Ready? She thought. Then it dawned on her. Was she ready to share her room and her bed with Clark? After Aaron died, she thought that part of her life was over. She knew she was pregnant with his baby, and that kind of love would have to carry her through the lonely days. Little could she imagine how much she would come to care for Clark in the months they lived together in the western mountains. She longed to have that kind of closeness again, to feel the heartbeat of someone against your back as you slept, the warmth of their body letting you know you weren’t alone. 

Clark sensed her hesitation and gently turned her to face him. “You take as long as you like.” He smiled. “I’m a patient man.” 

Marty cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “That you are, Clark Davis. Only God knows how you put up with me when I first came here.” 

He chuckled. “Even then I knew you were a special woman, Marty, just what Missie and I needed.” He caressed her cheek. “Though I don’t know if I understood how much I needed you.” 

Missie burst through the door. When she saw them together, she stopped. She had never seen them so close before. She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’m done my chores, Pa.” 

Clark strode over and knelt down in front of her. “Marty and I were just talkin’ about how grown up you’re gettin’.” Missie’s cheeks turned red. “I was thinking, come summer, I might see if we can build you your own room. Growin’ girls need some privacy.” 

My own room! Missie shouted inside her head. She never dreamed of having her own room. “It won’t cost too much, will it, Pa?” 

He ran his hand along her blonde hair, clutching the ends loosely between his thumb and pointer finger. “Now, you let God figure out the provision. If it doesn’t happen this summer, it will be done before the snow falls.” 

Missie wrapped both arms around his neck. “Thanks, Pa!” 

Marty smiled at them. “Could you set the table, Missie?” 

“Sure, Mama.” Missie skipped over to the cupboard. 

Marty’s eyes widened. She was Missie’s mama now. Within hours, her life had changed in ways she hadn’t thought possible as she waited for the wagon train to pull out this morning. Thank God that Clark had found her note in time. 

Clark strode over to her and cupped her elbow. “She loves ya.” 

“I love her,” said Marty. Then she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “And I love you, Clark Davis.” 

“I love you, too, Marty Davis.” 

As they stood there for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, they knew sharing the same last name meant more than it did just a day ago. 

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos – All Rights Reserved

Love Comes Softly Inspired Fan Fiction: Misinterpretation

Misinterpretation

Love Comes Softly inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos 

Disclaimer: This story follows the television movie characters, not the books. I do not own the Love Comes Softly television movies, book series, or any of the characters. I used a bit of dialogue from the Love Comes Softly movie. 

Marty stood by the stove, confused and hurt. Had she misinterpreted Clark’s actions yesterday? After months of living with Missie and Clark in the cabin he had built for his family, a family that once included his deceased wife Ellen, she realized something between them had changed. Or had it? 

After she had playfully shoved him as he planted seeds, causing him to lose his balance and tumble into the dirt, she ran off with Clark in pursuit. He easily caught up with her and grabbed her by the waist, tickling her until she was breathless with laughter. For the first time since she came, he laughed. No, he guffawed. He tossed his head back and laughed so loud and so long that Missie appeared in the doorway to say he had “gotten his laugh back.” 

“I guess I did,” he said. 

Then his expression turned serious and full of intent. His eyes looked at her with longing, at least she thought they did, and he slowly moved in to kiss her. And she wanted him to, she knew that, even if she used little Aaron’s crying as an excuse to escape. She had ruined the moment, and now it seemed Clark was willing to go back to the business of living without the comfort of a woman by his side. 

He said nothing about her note. Clark moved around her in the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and spoke about how the wet winter made planting easier before he sat with his coffee and Bible at the table. She had written her heart’s desire out in that note. She knew the three of them had become a family, and that despite her intention to go back East when she first came to live with them, there was no place on earth she would rather be than with Missie and Clark. So, she told him in that note that she wanted him to ask her to stay. She even signed it “Love, Marty.” How could he not say anything? 

She remained quiet the rest of the morning. If Clark noticed, he said nothing about it. Then later that day, as Missie was out doing her chores, he turned to her as she pretended to read. 

“I haven’t seen ya turn a page for thirty minutes,” he said. 

She admitted she had trouble concentrating. How could she not? She had poured her heart out to him, and he didn’t even acknowledge her note. Even though she didn’t want to leave, she knew at the end of the week when the wagon trail pulled out, she would be on it. She couldn’t stay if Clark felt nothing for her. 

* 

How could he have misinterpreted how Marty felt about him? Clark would have sworn they had grown closer over the months Marty had been with them. If he were honest with himself, when he approached the young widow on the day of her husband’s funeral with the notion they get married, he didn’t think she would accept him. His timing was dreadful. She was kneeling over her husband’s freshly dug grave. But as he explained, his Missie needed a woman’s hand, and the preacher was leaving the territory until spring. 

Since that time, Marty had won over Missie, given birth to the son she had been carrying when her husband died, and learned how to cook and help out on the farm. She fit so well into their home life, that even when the barn burned down and he reminded her of his promise to pay her fare to go back East when the wagon train returned, he held out hope she would stay. 

When he ran after her in the yard yesterday, her playful laughter had sparked something in him he thought had died with Ellen. For the first time, he saw a real future for Marty, Missie, and him as a family. He and Marty would be husband and wife in every sense of the word. Clark even allowed himself to think of more children padding around their happy home. 

When Clark offered to bring Marty to visit with Sarah Graham while he helped her husband Ben brand his new calves, he thought she would jump at the chance. Ben had been the one to find her husband, Aaron, after the accident. Sarah, a widow with children before marrying Ben, understood what Marty was going through, and befriended her, giving her advice along the way. 

“I should probably spend the day packing,” Marty said. “It’s about that time.” 

The hope he had held onto crumbled away. “Are you sure?” Clark asked. 

Marty said nothing, but she stared at him with sad, determined eyes. He swallowed hard; his heart shattered by the understanding she had made her decision.

 “I’ll let Missie know.” 

*

Missie sat between Pa and Marty on the wagon seat. Grownups made no sense. Missie had misinterpreted how this would all turn out. Well, that’s the word she thought she had learned from one of Marty’s books to say she had misunderstood how Marty felt about being a part of her family. 

When Pa called Missie over to tell her Marty was leaving on the wagon train at the end of the week, she couldn’t believe it. 

She balled up her fists and screamed, “No!” Then she ran off. 

The last time she felt this angry was when Pa asked Marty to marry him. She hated Marty being there. Pa and she had done just fine on their own. Why did they need her? 

But Missie admitted she had learned so many things from Marty, like a love for reading, how to cipher, how to sew, and a little about babies. Marty being there allowed Missie to help out on the farm but have time to play with Clint and the other Graham children. She had grown used to Marty and baby Aaron being around. Their house would be so quiet without them. 

She had told Marty once that Pa’s eyes lost their sparkle after her Mama died. But when she found them in the yard the other day that sparkle and his wild laugh had returned. Missie thought that had to mean something. 

But here they all were, sitting together without saying anything, just like the day Pa and Marty got married. She felt the sadness surrounding them. She could barely contain her own tears. Why did Marty have to go? 

 

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos – All Rights Reserved

Changes: LHOP Inspired Fan Fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos

Changes

LHOP inspired fan fiction by Cheryl C. Malandrinos

Disclaimer: I do not own the Little House on the Prairie television series, book series, or any of the characters. 

 Charles and Caroline had just finished moving Carrie up to the loft.  Now, only Baby Grace would be downstairs with them.

“Would you like some coffee?” Caroline asked Charles.

 “Sounds good,” he replied, glancing up at the loft. 

 Caroline’s knowing smile told him she knew what he was thinking. “It seems strange without her, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.” Charles walked over to the kitchen window and looked out, as if he expected Laura to walk down the road at any minute. “We already went through this with Mary. You think it would be easier this time.”

Caroline shrugged. “It never gets easier, no matter how many times it happens. It’s just not the same when one of your children leaves the nest.”

She brought Charles his cup of coffee and motioned for him to sit down with her at the table. Caroline brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “She married a good man.”

“I know,” he said with a nod.

Caroline reached over and put her small, white hand on top of Charles’s much larger and darker one. “Once again, we know how our parents felt when we packed up and left the Big Woods. We’ll get by it…just like we did when we left Mary in Winoka.” 

After drinking his coffee, Charles stood. “I need to do some work out in the barn.

His feet shuffled along the floor before he opened the door and walked outside. He only stayed there for a few minutes before he strolled down to the creek.

***

From the kitchen window, Caroline saw him cross the yard. She spied him as he sat down in Laura’s favorite thinking place. Her heart ached for him. Laura and he had always been so close. She prayed God would help him accept the changes life had brought. 

***

 Charles sat along the creek bed for about twenty minutes. It was no accident he sat in Laura’s special thinking place. He would often join her when she was younger and share fatherly advice. Now, he was replaced by Almanzo Wilder. She would go to him for the advice she needed. He admitted he felt sorry for himself.

He knew he was being silly. It was natural for a young girl to grow up, fall in love, get married, and cleave to her husband. But somehow, he had hoped Laura, his Half-pint, would wait a little longer. 

Charles looked up at the sky searching for guidance. “You know, Lord, it was hard for me to admit Mary had become a woman who could survive on her own without her Ma and me. But after a while, I accepted it.”

He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes but blinked them away.

“With Half-pint, I fought the battle against her growing up every day. I always wished I could keep her a little girl forever. But before I knew it, she was a young woman and a teacher. An older man courted her.”

Charles stopped praying to let the tears flow. When the last tear fell, he stood and grabbed a smooth, flat stone from the ground. He skimmed it across the creek. Laura loved to do that when she was younger, he thought.

“Lord, I feel like I’ve lost my little girl. We have always been kindred spirits. I always understood how she felt…and she understood me, too. I am going to miss those picnic lunches and fishing trips. Lord, please help me to accept these changes in my life and help me learn to appreciate the grown Laura as much as I love the young one.  Amen.”

Charles sat back down and looked out over the cold flowing water. A few moments later he felt a small, familiar hand on his shoulder.

“Hi, Half-pint.” Charles turned his head to look back at her. 

“Hi, Pa.” Laura pulled up her skirt and sat down next to her father. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

 “About what?”

 “How grown up you are?”

 Laura smiled wide. “I never thought I would hear you say that.”

Charles cupped her chin in his hand. “As much as I hate to admit it Half-pint, you’re a woman now.” He gazed at the ground to hide his tears. 

Once he recovered from his emotions he looked up and said, “What are you doing here? I thought you and Almanzo would be busy at the house.”

“We just finished getting Eliza Jane’s things together. She’ll send for them once she’s settled in St. Louis.” Charles nodded. “Almanzo had to go into town, so I figured I would come out here and spend some time with you. Almanzo will pick me up on the way back.”  Laura paused. “Pa, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

 “How long did it take you and Ma to get used to being married?”

Charles smiled. He had thought his days of passing out fatherly advice to Half-pint were over, but here she was once again looking for him to share his wisdom. “Quite a while. It’s a big change going from being your own person to being a couple. You’re not having problems already, are you?”

“No, it’s just that Almanzo and I have different opinions on things and sometimes I feel I have to give in so we don’t argue.”

Charles let a laugh escape from his lips. “I know you have strong opinions Half-pint, but there’s nothing wrong in giving in occasionally. Marriage means a lot of compromises...if you want it to work.”

Laura reached over and hugged him. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Pa.”  She reached for a smooth, flat stone and stood. She tossed it toward the creek and watched it skim the water. 

Charles had been so preoccupied with all the changes in his own life, he had forgotten how many changes his daughter was going through. And he found even though she was a grown, married woman, she still needed him. Charles glanced skyward and silently thanked God for answering his prayers. 

***

Caroline watched them from the kitchen window. “Thank you, Lord,” she said as she wiped away tears of joy.

Copyright Cheryl C. Malandrinos – All Rights Reserved.

Second Anne with An E Fan Fiction Story Posted

 

My second Anne with an E fan fiction story is now posted at fanfiction.net. You can find "Tell Me What?" here if you wish to read it. 

First Anne with an E Fan Fiction Story Posted

 

Well, I did it. I wrote my first Anne with an E fan fiction story. You can find "The Apology" here if you wish to read it. I would love to hear your thoughts.

New Laura and Almanzo Story at Fanfiction.net

I believe most of you know that I write Little House fan fiction stories. In the beginning, I tried my best to mix real life and the show but, at some point, fans of these stories requested I fill in the gaps in Laura and Almanzo's romance that inevitably are created by the limits of television: the need to have a one-hour storyline and provide a season's worth of episodes that focus on more than two characters.

I have taken my task seriously and have written at least sixty stories based upon Little House on the Prairie, the majority of which use the show's characters as inspiration.

Whenever I write a story featuring Laura and Almanzo, I have to admit that I visualize Melissa Gilbert and Dean Butler acting it out. This helps me to create stories that, for the most part, stay true to the characters, and the end product is a better story because I can include Beth's and Manly's mannerisms and facial expressions from watching episodes over and again.

My latest story is titled, Finding A Way. It takes places during Season 9, after the episode A Child With No Name, which is where Baby Boy Wilder is born and dies.

One of the limits of television is that you can't get inside a character's head visually. So much can take place in a character's mind--and often does--which is why I feel that Stephen King's books don't always make it to film well. King is the master of internal thought and often uses dreams to relay what his characters are thinking and experiencing. The advantage to this limitation, however, is that viewers who wanted to get inside those characters' heads have created stories that honor the essence of the show and its characters and help to fill in those missing elements. That is what I try to do with my fan fiction.

In Finding A Way, Laura struggles to move on even though six months have passed since Baby Boy Wilder's death. At the end of A Child With No Name, a repentant Laura announces happily to Doc Baker that she and Almanzo are thinking of having another baby. As a mother, that doesn't seem possible to me. Laura's grief over the loss of her son wouldn't disappear just because Doc Baker ended up saving Rose's life. But again, the episode is only one hour long, and Landon and his writers certainly came up with the best way to close out the episode by having Laura see the light, making the way for Doc Baker to stay in Walnut Grove.

What I attempted to do with this story is show that Laura and Almanzo's marriage and life didn't just go back to normal. There was a time when Laura grieved deeply for her son and was afraid of getting pregnant again. Almanzo struggled, too, but in a different way. As he tried to get closer to Laura, she moved further away from him. He felt lonely and isolated, much as he did when he thought he would never walk again ("Days of Sunshine, Days of Shadow").

I'm not sure how others will feel about this story, but I am truly thrilled with how it turned out. If you are interested in reading it, you can find it at www.fanfiction.net.