A Claim of Her Own

A historical fiction extract by guest writer Shauna McIntyre | February 2025

Feb 11, 2025

Things had been so easy between them she dreaded admitting to her lie. But it would be better to clear the air. Besides, how was she to survive out here without help?

“I have something I want to tell you.”

Della nodded for her to continue and the words poured out in a rush…

About Shauna McIntyre, this week’s guest writer

Shauna McIntyre is a writer and freelance editor at Creative Roots Editorial. She has reviewed over 30 books for the Historical Novel Review magazine and writes online features for the Historical Novel Society. Her monthly Substack newsletter, Creative Roots Letters, offers inspiration, resources, and personal anecdotes for those writing historical fiction and family history. When she is not editing, writing, or reading, she can usually be found rambling through the countryside looking to fill her curiosity cabinet and notebook.

The following excerpt is from an unpublished work-in-progress featuring female homesteaders in the Dakota Territories around 1880.

If you’re new here, the Society of History Writers is founded upon the principle of collaboration. It’s the ONLY space on Substack dedicated to bringing writers of history and historical fiction together to share their experience, grow in their craft, and share their writing exclusively with a growing worldwide audience. I am honoured to provide this space to spotlight your writing and share it with colleagues and readers across the world.

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September 17, 2024

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A Claim of Her Own

Shauna McIntyre

purple and orange flowers in green grass field — Photo by Dulcey Lima on Unsplash

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Tar paper shack on a homestead
Dakota Territory
July 1880

Bird calls and dew on the grass were the first things Hannah noticed when she stepped out the door the next morning. She couldn’t see the birds, but she could hear them. They must live in the tall grass she realized. As she wrapped her hands around a hot mug of coffee and settled herself on the front step, she considered her options. She could try to convince Della that she was in fact Samuel’s wife, though she wasn’t quite sure how to pull it off. Was it really so important to continue the charade? What a mess. Admitting the mistake was not so hard, but asking for forgiveness and assistance still felt uncomfortable. She had done things on her own for so long that asking still did not come easily.

She grimaced as she reached the gritty grounds at the bottom of the mug and decided on truth. She considered what she might bring Della as a gift. Her mother would never have shown up at someone’s home without some small offering. The rustic kitchen still intimidated her and really, what could she make with nothing but flour, salt pork, and tins of beans in the larder.

It was the harvest basket that gave her the idea. During the long drive out here, she had lamented the lack of trees, but that had not stopped her from noticing the extraordinary array of plants, many of them flowering right now. Maybe she could find some that were valuable like she did back home. An hour later she had only managed to identify a handful of familiar plants. She was going to need a mentor hereabouts if she meant to continue harvesting. Today though, it was the roses that had captured her attention the most.

She had never seen wild roses before and there were plenty of them here. They were very different than the ones people had grown in gardens back home but they had their own kind of simple beauty. And the scent was powerful, it would overtake a room and very likely linger even on dried petals. She filled two small cloth bags with the petals to dry. She also managed to put together a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Della, not only roses but others she didn’t recognize, the purple and yellow hues mingling with a few pops of the delicate pink roses. The memory of Grant gathering flowers in the marshy meadow near her home almost made her turn away without them. But that was in the past and if she was going to make it back to Nessie, she needed to make a friend. Flowers would be a start.

The sun was overhead when she finally made her way to what she assumed was Della’s home. Mr. McCue had told her it was customary to call out a greeting rather than knocking on a door. Most folks weren’t in their house during the day anyway. The wind had picked up over the course of the day and now it blew so fiercely Hannah’s greeting was caught and lost before it could be heard by anymore. Not wanting to startle anyone with her sudden presence, she cautiously walked around the corner of the house. A hot gust of wind caught her across the face, blew her skirts out wide behind her, and threatened to rip the flowers from her grasp.

It was blowing from the south as Hannah tried to look in that direction, the vast openness of the prairie once again overwhelmed her. She could imagine that hot gust of wind blowing through dirt and grass untouched by anyone for thousands of miles until it landed against her reddened cheeks. The landscape here provoked such wild imaginings she nearly laughed out loud at herself. She startled when she felt an arm on her shoulder. She spun around to find Della tugging her back to the other side of the house.

“Come inside!” Della cupped her hands but the words were still barely audible in the wind.

They hurried inside and laughed at the disheveled state of their hair and clothing. Hannah held out the flowers that were now windblown and lopsided. Della leaned in and sniffed the handful of flowers before taking it from Hannah.

“Mmm, smells wonderful.”

Della reached up to a shelf with a collection of jugs and jars to grab the largest one. She filled it with water from a blue ceramic pitcher and set them in the centre of the table. Hannah removed her hat and draped it across her basket. Though she knew it was rude she pushed up the sleeves of her dress. It was so hot she longed to wash with cold water, instead she pulled her hair back into a tidy plait and took in the clean and bright space with bright yellow curtains and a beautiful patchwork quilt laid out on the bed in the corner.

“Your place is so bright and lovely. How did you manage it?”

“It’s the whitewash on the walls that really does it. I can help you sometime. Come sit for a cup of tea with me.”

As Hannah sat at the table, she stretched out her arms and noticed the welts and scratches seemed to have multiplied since leaving the rose bushes. She pressed on the skin around a particularly deep one until blood oozed out. She swiped a finger across her tongue and ran it along the blood.

“I have some salve for those arms if you like. I get it from a woman up north of here who was a healer back in her old country, Norway, I think.”

Hannah perked up at the mention of a healer.

“Thank you. Does she use the plants from around here to make her salves?”

Della thought for a moment and then said. “She’s quite old and going blind. I am not sure actually where she gets the ingredients.” She gave a skeptical look at the jar then. “I don’t think she is selling snake oil. She has a good reputation around here anyway.”

Hannah sniffed the jar and thought she smelled yarrow, but there were other things she didn’t recognize.

“Where does she live? I would love to meet her.”

“I’ll be sure to arrange an introduction, though I don’t often get up her way. It’s nearly a full day’s ride away.”

After sharing a pot of tea and learning about all of the people in the neighbourhood. Hannah cleared her throat. Things had been so easy between them she dreaded admitting to her lie. But it would be better to clear the air. Besides, how was she to survive out here without help?

“I have something I want to tell you.”

Della nodded for her to continue and the words poured out in a rush.

“As you probably guessed, I am not married to Sam. My name is Hannah Kern though. It’s just that I am his sister, not his wife. I needed to find his claim and the man in the office hinted that he wouldn’t share the information with someone unless they were husband and wife. He warned me that if he found out later that I had lied it would go badly in town. I panicked yesterday and was afraid you would send me away.”

Della was silent for a moment before responding. “I knew Sam didn’t have a wife, or at least, I hoped not. He has been courting my friend, Eliza, for months now.”

The news that Sam has been courting made Hannah’s heart pinch. If he married, would she be able to stay? There was so much she didn’t know about her brother. Now that she was here, she intended to befriend this woman. Anything to keep her brother from leaving her again.

“I appreciate that. Do you really not know when he is coming back?” she said softly, suddenly feeling so very far from home.

“Sorry, that I don’t know. A few months maybe. Now, do you still want to take his animals? There’re just the two plow horses, but one is broken to ride so you can get around, if you know how to ride that is.”

“I can ride. And I know how to care for animals.” She cringed as she thought of what she had to say next.

“I don’t have enough money for supplies to keep me going once the food he left runs out.”

She had been considering how to earn her keep. She could try to make some of her mother’s salves and teas if she could learn the plants around here, but she wasn’t sure it would be enough, especially if people were already buying from another local woman. She didn’t want to create tension in the community.

“Are there any jobs for women around here? I don’t have my teacher’s licence but I could cook or take in laundry.”

“Already a few women doing those things. You said you know animals though? There’s a family just a few miles from here planning on heading further out west. They’ve got hens and a milk cow. Provide most of the eggs and milk around here since most people aren’t set up for it yet. I am certain they would rather not take the hens with them.”

“Oh, yes! And I could do butter!” The idea of taking care of animals again was so reassuring, but then her heart sank. “I don’t have any way to pay for them.”

“You leave that up to me. I’ve got an idea.”

Hannah fingered the hem of her sleeve as she tried to get used to the help that just kept coming her way. She’d lived in one small town her whole life but people rarely went out of their way to help her back home. Her time on the road had been so different. It seemed all people wanted to do was help, there must be some catch eventually. Though it felt nice to be seen as someone worth helping for a change. If she could just get set up with those animals, she could start helping people in return. She would do what her mother had always done. Sell to those who could pay and give it to those who could not. Maybe she could even earn enough to retrieve Nessie before her brother returned. As much as she trusted Emily, she wanted Nessie with her again as soon a s possible.

As she and Della went to see the horses, she mulled over the various ways she could improve her brother’s shack and barn. Della showed her how to picket the horses, how to move them to fresh grass, and cautioned her never to leave them out at night.

“You need to lock the door tight. Horse rustlers don’t come through too often anymore, but occasionally there is a bit of trouble, same for the shack, make sure you keep it locked tight when you sleep.”

Three days later, she had a milk cow, and ten layers. Della’s idea had turned out to be a loan of sorts. She and two other families had pitched in to buy the cow and hens in exchange for milk and eggs for the coming months. Hannah would have to find other people to buy up the rest in order to earn cash for other supplies. It was not going to be as quick as she liked, but she was hopeful that Sam would return and help her pay them back or at least help her get Nessie from Chicago. Now that she was feeling more settled, she wished she hadn’t left her behind. It would be good for her health to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Chicago had been so dingy, but the choice had been made and it would do no good to regret it now. She had a way to earn money and she would send a letter just as soon as she could find more ink.