by Danni Roan
Chapter 18
Helena was disappointed the next morning when there were no indications that they were heading to town for services, but she made allowances for a week of adjustments.
Not only had she only been married since Thursday, she had been working non-stop since almost the moment she arrived at her new home.
Her father looked cheerful, but weary after his long train journey, and with the late hours that Augusta had put in the night before, perhaps it was a good day to simply stay home.
Tying an apron around her middle, she hurried to the kitchen to prepare a hearty breakfast where everyone could sit and share about their week. She would roast the chicken she had in the icebox today as well and the family could have a late, leisurely lunch.
Stepping up to the window in the kitchen as she filled a pan with water, Helena could hear the distinct sound of an ax dropping. Peaking outside she spotted Augusta splitting wood near a jumbled stack of short logs.
The morning was still cool, but the man had worked up a sweat and had removed his shirt, exposing a wide expanse of muscled chest, and Helena’s cheeks warmed at the sight. Her new husband was a very attractive man. Perhaps something more than the man’s need for someone to care for his home and family had drawn her to him.
“I’m hungry,” Timothy said walking into the kitchen and making Helena jump.
She smiled as he clambered up into a chair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What would you like for breakfast?” she asked turning to the boy.
“Food,” Tim said his blue eyes soft from sleep.
Helena leaned over kissing the boy’s head then grabbed a loaf of bread and began slicing. A nice breakfast of French toast and bacon would be just the ticket.
“What ya’ makin’?” Tim asked, his little voice high and curious.
“French toast,” Helena replied.
“Why?”
“So we can eat it.”
“Is it good?”
“Yes,” she laughed, surprised that the youngest Pennington was so chatty. Before he had barely spoken at all, and frankly she was wondering if he might be a bit slow. Now she realized that with two older brothers the boy seldom had to ask for anything and that Ryan and Albert had been anticipating Tim’s needs before he even had to do anything about them.
“Is they good like pancakes?” Tim asked
“Better,” Helena said hearing footsteps over head.
“Can I have syrup?”
“Yes, and they are good with jam as well.”
“I like jam,” Tim said grinning.
“I like jam too,” Henry said stepping out of his room and ruffling the boy’s hair. “You’d best get dressed though if you want to eat,” the old man said. “Men have to dress to eat you see.”
Smiling the boy jumped from the chair and raced back upstairs yelling for his brothers.
“Good morning,” Helena said. “It seems that boy has taken a liking to you.”
“I’m rather partial to him myself,” Henry said. “Though the other two are a bit livelier.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” Helena said shaking her head. The boys were constant work and seemed to find more mischief to get into in an hour than most got into in a lifetime.
Henry moved around the kitchen finding plates and cutlery as he laid the table, the old habit of many years familiar to him.
The chatter of boys’ voices coming down the stairs made Helena smile. Today they would be a family. They would eat together and be together as they rested and prepared for the week ahead. Having that to look forward to, eased her sorrow at missing church for the day.
“I smell bacon,” Albert said sliding into the kitchen on stockinged feet.
“Please wash up,” Helena said noting that Albert was already dressed. “I’m clean,” the boy protested.
“If you don’t wash I will eat all of the bacon myself,” Helena insisted turning to stare at the boy who shrugged and walked to the sink.
“What’s for breakfast?” Ryan barreled into the kitchen jumping onto a chair.
“If you don’t wash she’s going to eat all of the bacon,” Albert called dropping the soap into the sink.
Ryan rose, hurrying to the sink and shoving his brother out of the way so he could wash up.
“Boys, there is no rush,” Helena said noting the grin on her father’s face. “Will one of you get your father, please?” she added as Tim walked back in, his shirt front buttoned crooked and his pants undone.
“I’ll do it!” Both boys yelled charging for the front door, pushing and shoving their way to the front porch.”
“I don’t think it will ever be dull around here,” Henry said leaning down to help Tim pull up his suspenders.
“Father, please don’t encourage them,” Helena said flinching. “I know it is going to take some adjusting but I’m sure in time the boys will settle down.”
“Something smells good,” Agi said stepping into the kitchen both boys hanging on his arms.
“If you’ll wash up,” Helena said noting he had put his shirt back on, “we’re ready to eat.”
Helena placed the stack of thick French toast pieces on the table then retraced her steps to collect the plate of bacon.
As she turned back around she was horrified at the carnage that had already taken place. Not only was the plate of at least a dozen pieces of French toast empty, but syrup, jam, and butter covered portions of the table oozing to the floor from careless spills.
“What in the world!” Helena gasped. “Stop, stop right now!”
Augusta and the two boys looked up still chewing as her father cut pieces of toast for Tim.
Agi looked up at the expression on Helena’s face then looked around the table to see what had her so upset. Seeing the empty plate, he flinched, sliding his third slice of French toast onto her plate.
“Sorry,” he said around his mouthful of food.
“And what about this mess?” Helena said. “I didn’t spend all day yesterday and the day before scrubbing this place for you to dump everything all over it again.” She hurried to the sink gathering up a dish cloth and dabbing at the table. “Boys, slow down,” she added as tears threatened. “This is breakfast not a race.”
Ryan looked at Albert confused. He didn’t see what all of the fuss was about. All he knew was the food was good, and he needed to eat it before someone else got his share.
Helena shook her head tears glistening in her eyes as her dreams of a quiet breakfast evaporated. At least Augusta had realized that she too needed to eat.
“You boys slow down,” Agi said shaking a fork covered in syrup at his two older children. “Miss,” he paused then continued, “Helena cooked this nice meal for you, and you should slow down and enjoy it.”
Both boys looked at their father as if he had two heads, but they slowed down as Helena spread butter on her single slice of French toast and added syrup. Two pieces of bacon were added to her plate as she pulled herself back together.
“I’ll get some coffee,” Henry said handing Tim his fork and standing, as the meal quieted.
“So what do you normally do on a Sunday?” Helena asked. “I had thought that perhaps we would go to church this morning.”
“Bit late to get started now,” Agi said sheepishly. He had risen early and started chores completely losing track of time. “Besides it’s been a long week, and I need to catch up on chores around the place.”
Helena raised an eyebrow. It seemed that a great deal of catching up needed to take place from what she could see, not to mention a few lessons on manners, etiquette, and sharing.
“Perhaps next week then,” she said watching the boys make faces at each other.
“We could try,” Agi said not willing to commit. After a long week of work he wanted nothing more than to relax and rest, but he knew that Sunday services and community were important. Maybe if he got the boys back in the habit of church, they would calm down a little.
“I was wonder
ing if you might show me around the place today as well,” Helena asked. “I’d like to know more about our new home.”
Agi nodded again. There wasn’t much to his place, and he doubted that she would bother much with the horses or the barn. He would get the wood pile ready a little at a time for winter and as long as the mill was producing he could provide for his family.
As Helena and Agi talked Ryan and Albert finished their breakfast, pushing their plates away as they headed for the door.
“Plates,” Helena said. “I believe you need to put your plates in the sink,” she finished.
Again the boys turned to their father who nodded. Would they ever simply listen to what Helena said?
“What brought you to Bent?” Helena found herself asking Augusta as they walked along his property an hour later. The dishes had been done, the boys had washed up and settled in to the parlor where her father was reading a rousing version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
“Mostly work,” Agi admitted. “I’d been a sawyer in another town, and when I noticed how things were growing up in this area, I thought that a mill would be needed. Before that most folks had to timber their own places or bring things in on the rail.”
“You have a lovely place,” Helena said. Even with the overgrown garden patch that hadn’t been planted in many years, and the corrals that needed mending, she could see that at one time the house had been lovingly cared for.
“I don’t have much time for it lately,” Agi said “I’m too busy.”
“I’m sure now that father and I are here we’ll be able to get things shipshape,” Helena said softly.
Agi couldn’t help but warm to the young woman. He still felt the pinch of guilt over breakfast and determined to do better about not tucking into the food like a pack of wild animals.
“Augusta, I truly do want this to work out,” Helena said stopping and looking into his face. “I know we have our work cut out for us, but if we try, really try, I’m sure everything will come together.”
Agi nodded, finding he liked this woman for more than just her cooking.
Chapter 19
Monday, Agi was out the door before Helena had time to ask him if he wanted a lunch.
She had cold chicken from the day before and would have made him a sandwich at least, but he’d gobbled down a bowl of oatmeal and was gone before she could say boo.
The boys were slightly better that morning as they ate their breakfast of oatmeal covered in brown sugar, butter, and cream.
“Don’t you boys have school today?” Helena asked.
“No, we don’t go to school today,” Ryan said grinning at his brother.
“Then I’d like you to help me around here this morning before you go off and play.”
The boys shoveled there breakfast in, but didn’t say anything, and when Helena turned with her own breakfast in hand, they were already gone.
Henry helped Tim with his breakfast as Helena gaped. “Why don’t you and me take a walk today?” he asked the youngest Pennington. “We’ll see what we can find while my daughter does whatever she has planned for the day.”
Tim blinked up at the old man grinning, a smudge of butter making his chin glisten.
After her father left, Helena hung her head. What was it going to take to make this collection of people a family? She prayed that somehow she would know what to do as she prepared hot water for washing clothes and setting her freshly mixed bread dough on the stove to proof.
It was amazing what a mess three small people could make. This morning her father had cleared the table, but he still grinned and chuckled at the boys’ antics which in her mind only encouraged them. She would have to talk to Augusta soon. As her mother used to say, ‘the way you start is the way you’ll go,’ and Helena had no intention of spending her life cleaning up after three boys.
The sound of shouting and the loud braying of a donkey snapped Helena’s head up from where she had been hanging clothes as peels of raucous laughter drifted her way.
Helena hurried around the corner of the house, peering onto the road that ran past the house, to see on old man trying to calm a heavily laden donkey that pitched and bucked making a terrible racket.
Lifting the hem of her dark skirt, she hurried toward the old man as implements and articles bounced from packs like dust picked up by the wind.
The old man’s voice gentled as Helena approached but several sharp words still blued the air. “Are you all right?” Helena asked gazing at the man’s splattered shirt sleeves and the dark brown goo that dripped from his donkey’s hip.
The donkey rolled its eyes at Helena even while it settled down, as a snort of laughter echoed from a small clump of trees behind them.
“Confound it,” the old man said still soothing his pack animal who shivered, clumps of brown gloop dropped from the critters hip. “When I get hold of them boys,” the man continued.
“Are you hurt?” Helena asked her cheeks flaming as she realized that the boys had caused this chaos.
“I ain’t hurt, but I ain’t picking up all of my things either.” The old prospector said. “I need to get back to my claim ‘afore some scallywag steals it right out from under me.”
“Ryan, Albert, come here,” Helena said quietly, waiting. “What have you done?” she asked as both boys sauntered from the woods arrogantly.
“We was just throwing apples,” Albert said. “Ain’t our fault if the old man got in the way,” he finished.
“Why you rotten little toe rag,” the old man said picking up a frying pan and brandishing it at the boys.
“I’ll help you,” Helena said grabbing the man’s hand. “Boys you start picking up this mess,” she said turning and facing off with the boys who turned away toward the woods.
Helena stooped picking up one of the cans that had fallen onto the ground. Seeing the boys walk away. For now she would not make a scene but something would have to be done to insure that the boys began to listen to her.
A half hour of work and the prospector was on his way again with a few extra provisions for his trouble. Helena couldn’t even imagine where the boys had gotten rotten apples to throw. To think that they had hit the old man and his donkey with the rotten fruit horrified her. She had to find a way to get the boys under control.
Bidding the prospector a safe journey Helena returned to the house. She would speak to Augusta again that night. Surely he would impress upon the boys that as their new mother Helena was in charge.
At supper that night the boys were unrepentant of their actions even after Helena explained the situation. Her father only made things worse by asking the boys about the apples, and what they had used to throw them.
“Augusta,” she started that night as they retired to bed, “what the boys did today was unacceptable. You need to do something about their behavior.”
“They’re just boys,” Agi said carefully keeping his eyes averted while Helena gathered her things. He didn’t know how she expected him to share a bed and maintain a sense of modesty as well. The longer he was in her presence the more he felt her presence. “You need to be patient and give them a little time. I’m sure they’ll come around soon,” he finished catching a glimpse of a shapely ankle as she slipped into bed.
“They need to accept me as the one in charge when you aren’t home,” Helena explained feeling Augusta’s warmth engulf her as she settled in the bed. It was disconcerting sleeping with the man even if he was her husband. Perhaps she needed to be patient with him as well and in time they would build a real home and real marriage.
“Give it some time,” Agi said sleepily. It had been a long day and despite the warm, soft woman next to him he longed for sleep.
Helena took in a deep breath trying to relieve the tension in her shoulders. The boys were out of control. So far they had been fortunate that no one was seriously hurt, but how was she to keep the three boys and the house safe. More pressing how was she to keep others safe from the boys.
Lifting a
prayer for strength she pulled the blankets to her chin seeking sleep.
Chapter 20
The next week was a repeat of the first and Helena found her patience worn thin with all of the men in her life.
The boys continued to ignore her requests to do chores, and only a promise of dessert or the threat of not cooking could make them do any of the simple things she asked. Her father found the boys’ behavior entertaining and asked questions about how they managed to paint scenes on the house wall in purple berry juice, or where they had acquired their tub of frogs. He even laughed when they carried a piglet from a neighboring farm home, hiding it in their bedroom.