Everett

by Christine Sterling

  She knew the Chapmans cared for every animal on their ranch. Every animal had a purpose, whether it was working in the field or providing food; they never took for granted what the ranch provided.

  Polly had never attended a barbecue before or tasted apple butter. She couldn’t wait to experience everything the day had to offer… except for supper. She might even be able to spend some time with Everett. The handsome cowboy had been on her mind all day and was now invading her dreams. It seemed she couldn’t find any escape from Everett Chapman. Better to have a friend than an enemy, she thought, determined to try to make peace with her thoughts.

  “Good morning,” Ellie said, stretching before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Sleep well?”

  Polly answered while staring in the wardrobe, “I have no clue what to wear today.”

  Ellie got up and looked at the wardrobe. “How about this?” she asked, pulling out a blue checkered dress. “You’ve had it for years.”

  Polly bit her finger in thought. “I guess. It is one of my favorite day dresses.”

  “I’m sure Marmee has an apron you can wear.” Ellie reached back in the closet and pulled out the dullest brown dress Polly had ever seen. There was an apron that went over the neck and tied around the waist. It reminded Polly of the pinafores in school.

  “I can’t wear that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It isn’t mine. And brown isn’t my color.”

  Ellie laughed. “Marmee said anything that was in this closet we were free to use.” Ellie rummaged some more and pulled out a long skirt that was split in the middle. She held it up against her and lifted her leg, exaggerating the split flowing fabric. “Maybe I’ll wear these.”

  “Elenore Elizabeth, why, they are indecent.”

  “It’s a riding skirt.” Ellie walked back to her bed. “Isn’t it wonderful? I’ve never seen anything like it in Atlanta. Alice wears them, as well as Penny and Marianne.”

  “Those are the other two sisters?”

  “Yes. They went back to Denver a bit ago.” Ellie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Don’t say anything, but I think Penelope might be in the family way.” Ellie mimicked a round belly in front of her.

  “Ellie! Is that why she had to go to Denver?”

  Ellie blinked several times and furrowed her brow. “No. What makes you say that?”

  “You know,” Polly whispered, repeating the sign Ellie had just used.

  Sending ruined young ladies away to visit an aunt for ten months was a known practice in the south. It spared the family any ridicule and when the young lady returned her reputation wasn’t in tatters.

  Ellie laughed. “Oh no, she wasn’t sent away. Her husband lives there. Both Marianne’s and Penelope’s husbands work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”

  “That sounds exciting. Have you met them both?”

  “Just Penelope. You’d like her. She reminds me of you. Marianne is her twin, but she’s not come home in quite a while.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Ellie tossed the riding skirt aside. “I think I’m just going to wear that green dress.”

  Polly took the brown dress and apron and draped them over the chair. She went to the washbasin and filled it with cool water from a pitcher. She quickly washed and then stripped out of her nightgown. She slid her chemise over her head and put her legs through a pair of flannel pantalets, tying them at the waist.

  She had never worn flannel pantalets before. In Atlanta, the temperatures didn't get cold enough, so the undergarments Polly owned were made from linen. She was thankful Ellie had a pair she could use.

  She reached for her corset, placing it around her bodice and starting to tug on the strings.

  "You don't need to wear that," Ellie said.

  "Why ever not?”

  “You are going to be standing most of the day, hunched over a table or a kettle. I am going to bet that within an hour you’ll be wishing you didn’t have it on.”

  “But that’s indecent.”

  “Have you noticed not many of the women out here wear corsets, apart from when they are going visiting?”

  “I haven’t paid much attention.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Polly grabbed the dress and put it over her head. Since she wasn’t wearing a corset the fabric was a little tighter than she liked, then she realized hooks and eyes were holding the back of the dress closed. “Ellie, help,” she said, her hands in the air, waving the fabric around.

  “Hold still, Polly.” She felt Ellie unhook the back and tug the dress over her head.

  “Whew!” Polly exclaimed, shaking the dress down to her ankles. “Can you fasten me back up?”

  “Turn around.” Ellie quickly hooked the dress and flattened the collar. She handed the apron to Polly.

  Polly put it over her neck and tied it around her back. The apron was light blue cotton with stitching along the edges. There was a pocket at the front. She put her hand in and pulled out several pieces of lint. “You look like a pioneer woman.”

  Shaking her fingers to release the lint, Polly walked over to the looking glass and grabbed her brush. The dress wasn’t horrible, per se. It just wasn’t her style. It was a very functional farm dress, and if Polly wanted to play the part, she would need to dress in functional clothing.

  Ellie quickly changed, dressing in a collarless green dress. She found an apron in the closet and used it to cover her dress.

  “Ready?” Ellie asked.

  Polly followed her down to the great room. Even though it was still dark outside, the room was bustling with activity. Marmee was at the table. Several baskets of apples sat on the table, along with three enamelware bowls. Polly could see that one contained water. There was also a small pitcher and additional pots stacked up on a chair.

  “Good morning,” Marmee said once she spied them. “There are biscuits and cold ham on the stove along with coffee. Serve yourself.”

  Polly took a cup from a hook and poured a cup of coffee. She handed it to Ellie and then poured herself a cup.

  “Do you want anything to eat?” Ellie asked.

  Polly shook her head and lifted the cup to inhale the deep aroma of the coffee. It wasn’t her favorite beverage, but there was something about the way Marmee made it, that made it palatable. Weston teased her that Marmee’s secret ingredient was love.

  Polly pulled a chair out and sat across from Marmee. There was a cast-iron clamp attached to the table with a spike sticking from the front, and what looked like the wheel on a sewing machine attached to the back. “What’s this for?” Polly asked, using her finger to turn the wheel. She noticed the spike turned.

  “That can peel an apple faster than you can do it by hand. It cores it at the same time too.

  Polly noticed a metal ring attached to a spring on the front of the device.

  “Good morning,” Alice said walking into the room. She poured a cup of coffee and joined the women at the table.

  The rest of the Chapmans slowly wandered into the room. Willow sat next to Marmee. Oliver placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her head, before taking his cup of coffee and heading into the darkness.

  “Bring that cup back, Oliver,” Marmee called after him.

  “Good morning,” Caleb said, hobbling in the room. His leg was still healing, and he needed to use crutches to get around. Lydia walked next to him, her hand on his back to steady him as he walked.

  “Are you going to chop apples or go outside?” Marmee asked.

  “I’ll try to go outside for supper, but right now I better just stay in here and help.” He hobbled to the end of the table and dropped into the chair, handing Lydia his crutches. She placed them by the settee and then went to grab coffee and a biscuit for Caleb.

  A few moments later, Owen and Everett walked into the room. Polly felt her breath hitch as she looked at Everett. His hair was sticking out in all directions and h
e rubbed his eyes as he walked to the stove.

  “Good morning,” Owen said, pulling a chair next to Ellie. “Did you sleep well?” Ellie nodded and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “What are you doing today?” she asked.

  “I’ll be pressing apples in the orchard.”

  “We used to press apples in Kansas City,” Willow said. Polly’s ears perked up. The young woman rarely talked, and when she did, she didn’t share anything personal. “Pa would save it for hard cider, but mostly it turned into vinegar.”

  “We’ll put it in barrels until it turns to vinegar,” Marmee said. “I can use it to pickle vegetables next year.”

  “Do you make hard cider?” Polly asked. Owen snorted.

  “Marmee won’t have a drop of alcohol on the ranch,” Everett said around bites of biscuit stuffed with ham. “That doesn’t stop a few folks from putting away a couple of jars hoping to make a bit of cider.”

  “Like who?” Marmee demanded.

  “It’s not up to me to name names, Marmee,” Everett responded. He tapped Owen on the back. “Come on, Romeo. Give Juliet her letter and let’s go outside. I have to get the fire going.”

  Polly saw Owen slip a folded piece of paper to Ellie. She fingered the side before sliding it into her pocket. He gave a wink and kissed her cheek. “If you get bored, you can come press apples with me.” He pushed from the table and headed towards the door.

  Everett brushed against Polly as he walked by. Polly felt shivers down her back from where he touched her. “See you shortly,” he said.

  “Bye,” Polly said softly. Bye? That was all she could manage. She closed her eyes and counted to three before opening them again. Ellie was looking at her. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Ellie said.

  “Is Mr. Chapman outside already?” Polly asked taking another sip of her coffee.

  “No. He was with Tot all night. I didn’t sleep a wink.” Marmee tossed the curls that were hanging from her day cap.

  “Because of the excitement about today?” Ellie asked.

  “No. I just don’t sleep unless he is next to me. I can easily count on one hand the number of times I slept alone.” She passed two paring knives across the table and gave one to Willow. “We need to wash, peel, core, and chop up the apples. That bowl is for washing, this bowl is for all the scraps. We’ll feed those to the pigs later. And this bowl,” she said pointing with her knife, “has water with a bit of vinegar in there.” “What’s that for?” Polly asked.

  “It makes sure the apples don’t turn brown. But you don’t want to leave them in there because then the apple butter turns bitter.”

  Polly picked up her knife and grabbed an apple from the basket. After dunking it in the water, she watched Marmee peel the apple and make quick work of removing the core and chopping the apple up into small chunks. She dunked them in the vinegar solution and then put them in an empty bowl. When the bowl was filled, Alice showed Willow, Ellie, and Polly how to drop the apples into one of the three large copper kettles in the yard.

  Widow Baker from down the road came to help with four of her six children. She was very talkative, filling Marmee in on the local gossip in town. Her girls, however, were not interested in helping. Instead, they wanted to chase Hart around the yard. They were excited when he promised to show them the kittens.

  It took several hours and four cups of coffee to finish the six bushels of apples that were in the great room. The women took turns walking outside and adding the cut-up apples into the large copper kettles. Everett, Sawyer, and Rich worked the three kettles. Several other cowboys sat to the side waiting to relieve them or add more wood to the fire. One even had a guitar and was gently strumming a song Polly didn’t recognize.

  When it was Polly’s turn to take apples to the kettle, she added them to Sawyer’s kettle. She was headed back to the house when she stopped to admire Everett stirring the apples. He used a paddle at the end of a long handle. As he pulled the paddle through the apples, Polly could see that there were holes drilled in the wood.

  He had removed his jacket and his shirt was soaked with perspiration. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and Polly could see his arms were covered with light brown hair. As he dragged the paddle through the thick apple mixture the muscles in his forearms would tighten, and veins would appear just under the skin. It was mesmerizing.

  He was moving the paddle backward when he noticed Polly standing there.

  “Want to try?” he asked. Polly nodded. Putting the enamel pan down, she moved to take the paddle from Everett. “Put your hands here,” he said demonstrating, “and just keep going back and forth. Don’t stop.”

  Polly nodded and placed her hands exactly where Everett showed her. “Like this?” she said, trying to push the paddle through the thick apple mixture. It was harder than she expected, and the heat from the fire fanned her face. She had to squint to see what she was doing.

  She felt Everett move closer and place his hand on her back. “You need to put your hands closer to the end of the paddle and use your back to work it back and forth.”

  She did what he said, and it was easier. She tried to concentrate on the wooden paddle moving through the kettle, but it was difficult when she felt shivers where Everett had his hand. After a few minutes, her back started hurting and she was feeling flush from the fire. “How long do I have to do this?”

  “The applesauce will be ready shortly and then it will take the rest of the day for the apple butter.”

  “No wonder women didn’t wear corsets,” she mumbled. If she had one on, she would probably faint from lack of breath. Everett must have heard her as he dropped his hand from her back. She wished she hadn’t said anything if it meant he would still be touching her.

  Before she could apologize for her comment, the sound of horses could be heard coming towards the house. Polly looked, but she didn’t recognize the man and the woman riding up. The man appeared dark and mysterious. He was dressed in black and his hat was pulled low. The woman appeared pale and very frail. She had reddish circles under her eyes and her cheeks were hollow.

  They rode up to the porch and tied off their horses away from the heat of the flames.

  “What are you doing here?” Everett asked. Polly couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not.

  “Ev,” the dark-haired man said. “We came by to see if we could meet Hart.”

  “Today’s rather busy.”

  “I know, but we thought it might be a good time because we would just be another set of neighbors.”

  “But you aren’t,” Everett responded.

  “Your pa said we could stop by to meet him.”

  “Where are the rest of your kin?”

  “It’s just me and Chat right now,” the pale woman said. “Pa told Ma she ain’t coming over, and the boys well… they weren’t sure just yet.”

  The sound of giggles filled the air as Hart was now chasing the four girls. He had a toad in both his hands and was holding it as he ran around the yard. When Hart spied the two strangers, he stopped.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Polly could see that tears were starting to form in the woman’s eyes. “He looks just like Vangie,” she said, lifting her pale fingers to her lips.

  “Hey,” Hart said putting the toad in the front pocket of his pants. “I have an Aunt Vangie.”

  “You do?” the woman asked kneeling in front of him. “I had a sister named Vangie. Her real name was Evangeline Sarah. I was the only one that called her that. She disappeared, but I’m glad you are here.”

  Hart squished up his face. “Does that make us kin?”

  “Yes. Yes, it does.”

  “Who are you?” the boy asked again.

  “I’m your Aunt Annamae. And this is your Uncle Chat.”

  “It’s nice to have a family again.” Hart wiped his slimed covered hands on his shirt. “Hey, Uncle Everett. Can I do that?” he asked pointing to the paddle.

  Polly realized she h
ad stopped stirring. She quickly moved the paddle again as she didn’t want to be responsible if the apples burned to the pot.

  “Later,” Everett told the young boy. “You’ll need to wash your hands.”

  The four little girls came up and surrounded Hart. “Aren’t you going to chase us?” the oldest girl asked. She couldn’t be any more than eight years old.

  “Nah, I’m done.”

  “Where’s your toad?” another asked.

  “In my pocket.”

  “You gonna take it out?” Hart shook his head.

  “I wanna see the kittens again,” the youngest of the three said. Polly thought she might be around four years old.

  “Come on, Lolly, let’s go.” The oldest girl took the other two girls’ hands and pulled them towards the barn.

  “Are these your siblings?” Annamae asked Hart.

  Hart shook his head. “No. They live down the road. That’s Cissy. I’m going to marry her.”

  Annamae gave a little laugh. “That’s alright. I’m going to marry Everett,” she said.

  Polly gave a little gasp and she nearly dropped the paddle. Her eyes snapped to Everett. His jaw was clenched, and she could see the muscle tick in his cheek. She was about to say something when she heard the creaking of the door hinges.

  Marmee and Alice came out of the house holding two enamel pots. As they walked down the stairs, Marmee stopped short when she saw Annamae and Chat standing next to the copper kettle.

  “Annamae,” Marmee said walking onto the porch, “What brings you over?”

  “Well, we thought it would be a good idea to come to meet our kin.”

  Hart was running toward the barn calling for the girls to wait.

  “If this isn’t a good time, Mrs. Chapman, we can come back later. Mr. Chapman just said to stop by. He even suggested that we come by today,” Chat said.

  Marmee quickly composed herself and walked over to the kettle and added her pan of apples to the mixture boiling. “No. It’s not a problem at all. The more hands the better.”