“I am not sure. We took most of the tools with us to build a new farm in Oregon,” I said.
“Guess I will have to look around, then,” he mumbled, and he turned to lead the cow to the barn.
I stepped inside the house. All my childhood memories began flooding through my head, as I slowly walked around the house. Soon I would have my own child who would call this home, I thought. Then new memories would be created. I could almost imagine my mother in the kitchen fixing a meal, while my father and Jessie came tramping through the door, from working in the field, eager to eat. I could hear Becky skipping through the house with a singsong rhyme tripping from her tongue.
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise, and I realized that Elliot had found something to pry the wood off the windows, and slowly the rooms started to fill with light, as he tossed the boards aside, once he removed them from the windows.
The sun shown down through a curtain, reflecting off of floating dust, that had been disturbed, when I came inside. I now noticed cobwebs about the house, and I retrieved a broom from the kitchen and started sweeping the cobwebs away.
All the furniture was covered with dust covers, and they appeared like misshapen ghosts, that had decided to overtake the rooms. I began pulling them away revealing all the familiar furniture that I had grown up with, which probably belonged to my grandfather before my father was ever born. It was old, but sturdy and would probably last for many years to come.
The only thing that was missing was the family portraits and tintypes that had been placed in frames, sitting on the book case, or hung on the walls. The family heirlooms were also missing, because my mother had packed those to bring with us to our new farm. Some of the wooden furniture was made by my grandfather, and I smoothed my hand along the top of the kitchen table, which I knew he had made. It felt like his spirit was in the wood, and he would watch over me while I was there.
I barely remembered my grandfather. He and my grandmother had lived with us when I was very little, but they had died, and their graves were out back, along with other family members who had died while living here. Farms were run by families, and the sons would remain with their parents, bringing their wives to live with them to help run the farm. Once the parents died, the oldest son took over, being head of the farm. By right, this farm belonged to Jessie, but he was building his own farm in Oregon, I thought, so now it belonged to me.
I heard Elliot enter the house, and could see him bringing boxes in.
“I will take these to the kitchen,” he told me. “Nice place you have here,” he smiled.
“I hadn’t realized how much I missed it,” I told him. “It was exciting going to Oregon, but we had left so much behind. Now I have a chance to bring this farm back to life a bit.”
“I am just wondering how you are going to manage without a man to do the heavy work,” he mumbled. “You know you shouldn’t lift anything burdensome, while you are carrying. It could cause complications.”
“I will be careful,” I promised.
“I don’t find that comforting, because I know you will go headlong and do as you please,” he half-chuckled.
“Indian women work right up to the day they give birth. I am not worried.”
“You are not an Indian, Vanessa, no matter how much you like to pretend you have become one. Just because you spent time with the Indians does not mean you can do things the same way they do them. They have been raised and bread to that kind of hard work.”
“You forget, I am a farm girl. I am used to physical labor as well. I have never shirked from a little work.”
“It makes me worry about you,” he said, eyeing me.
“I will be just fine,” I assured him. “I am going in and cleaning up the kitchen and put the supplies away. Did you put the chickens in the coop?”
He nodded, as he started picking up the piles of dust covers, I had taken off of the furniture. “Where do you want these?”
“There is a wash room, next to the bath house outside, just put them in one of the tubs out there. I’ll take care of them later.”
I watched Elliot as he left with his arms full of dust covers. He was being such a big help to me; I knew I would miss him once he left, but this was something I would have to do on my own. I knew he was trying to be the friend he promised to be, and I didn’t want him to feel obligated to me beyond that.
I started a fire in the cook stove, which would heat the pipes that warmed not only the water in the kitchen, but the water which went out to the bath house as well. Now I would finally get to take advantage of that improvement my father had made to the farm, I thought.
While I waited for the water to heat, I began putting the supplies away in the pantry, and checking on what remained in the pantry, which we had left behind. It had only been a year, so I was sure the bottled goods were still eatable.
When the fire was going well, I turned the handle to the faucet that was gravity fed by a holding tank on a high platform in the yard, which was filled by a pump, that was powered by a windmill. At first, the water came out all red and rusty, but soon it cleared, and I put the plug in the sink, so I could use the water for washing off the counters, and table. There were two separate faucets. One, for the hot water, and the other for the cold water.
I was humming as I cleaned the kitchen up, and I realized I was humming the song we had sung on our way to Oregon. I stopped humming when I realized it.
“Why did you stop?” Elliot asked. “It sounded nice.”
“It was a song I didn’t want to remember,” I told him.
“Well, it was pretty, just the same,” he smiled. “Do you need any help?”
“If you want to start peeling apples, I can start on that pie I promised you, and while it is cooking, I will fix us something to eat.”
“You seem to know your way around a kitchen,” he chuckled, as he pulled out a chair, and I handed him a bowl to put the peelings in, and placed another one beside it, to put the apple slices in.
Once he had a few apples peeled, I began slicing them up and putting them in a bowl where I covered them with sugar, cinnamon, and flour. Then I would let them set while I made the pie crust. I was lucky that we did not take all the dishes, or pots and pans and utensils with us when we left. The wagon could only carry so much, and we had to have room for seed, and potatoes, and starter plants to grow our new crops, and start an orchard, once we got to Oregon. So we merely took part of the kitchen stuff, along with my mother’s best china, which had been handed down to her from her mother.
Elliot sat and watched me rolling out the dough, which I was doing with a canning jar because we had taken the rolling pin with us when we left for Oregon.
“I like watching your hands, with flour all over them, rolling out pie dough,” he murmured. “It reminds me of my mother. When I was little, I used to watch her bake. She died when I was ten during the potato famine, which is why we came to America in the first place, after I turned fifteen. It was just my father and me. Only, my father was ailing before we ever left Ireland, and he ended up dying after we got here. I managed to find odd jobs to do to stay alive, and pretty much took care of myself. I know how hard it is to be on your own, Vanessa. It is not going to be an easy life for you.”
“Well, I have no choice, I pointed out.”
“You could use a man,” he stated.
“You are the only man I know,” I told him, not looking up from what I was doing.
“Exactly,” he said softly. “I don’t like leaving you here on your own, especially in the condition you are in. How about if you hired me on as your helper?”
“I don’t have any money. You know that.”
“I still have my job furnishing wood for people. I can do that on the side, to earn a little, and stay here most of the time to help you out. You don’t have to pay me. I want to help you. You have a wooded area out here. I could cut the wood and take it into town once a week. At least, I would be near by to help you with whatever
you needed done. I would save money, since I wouldn’t have to pay for the room, I stay in at town. We could help each other out. I use the wood off of your land for my business, and in return, I help you on the farm. How would that be? You wouldn’t have to feel like you were taking advantage of me. It would be a fair trade.”
I looked up, and Elliot caught me with his striking green eyes. The grin on his face told me he was proud of himself for coming up with a way of helping me without me thinking it was charity.
“You will probably regret it,” I murmured, as he still held my gaze.
“I doubt it. I could never regret being able to see your face so often.”
“If you find it too much of a burden, I won’t insist you remain,” I told him.
“You could never be a burden,” he insisted.
“I suppose I could use the company, not to mention the help,” I relented.
“I was hoping you would see it that way. I will leave tomorrow, and collect my things from the boarding house, if that is all right with you. Then I should return by dinner time,” he promised.
“I appreciate all you are doing for me,” I murmured. “We both know I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you do! I don’t think you to be a bad person just because you are carrying some Indian’s baby. You respected Running Wolf. He would be happy you are having his child.”
“I wish he hadn’t died. He was a good person, just like you. He wanted to help me. I would have married him, once I discovered I was carrying his child.”
“Would that be the only reason you would have married him?” Elliot asked.
“He told me that I could learn to love him. I think he would have proven himself right, if he hadn’t of been killed. Only, I have to admit, it would have been hard for him to take the place of Shadow Hawk. I was so much in love with him at the time. I think I still am.”
Elliot’s face fell, and then he smiled at me. “Trouble is, Shadow Hawk is not here, and you may never see him again. I suggest you learn how to let go of that tie he has on you, so in some distant future, you can learn to love someone else.”
“I have tried to put it all behind me, but every night I dream Shadow Hawk is making love to me. I can’t seem to shake him out of my head or my heart.”
“I suppose it will take time, but as long as I am around, you can count on me, Vanessa. Don’t go feeling like you don’t deserve my help. You have been dealt a hard hand in life, and I just want to lighten the burden a little for you.”
“My aunt will miss you helping her out,” I mentioned.
“She will just have to find another handyman. I will still furnish her with wood, and can let her know how you are doing. I am sure she does care about you.”
“Yes, in her own way, as long as I am not causing her any humiliation by being around with a ‘heathen’ baby,” I smiled.
I finished up the pie, and put it in the oven, then began fixing fried potatoes and bottled beans on the side.
By the time we finished eating, the pie was done, and I set it out to cool. Afterwards, I went into the great room, and sat down at our old piano. It was probably out of tune, but I felt like getting lost in music I had not played since I had left this house.
Elliot came and sat down on the piano bench along side of me, and turned the pages of the music I was playing.
“You can read music?” I asked.
Elliot laughed. “When I first started working for your aunt, she insisted on giving me piano lessons,” he admitted.
“Really?” I laughed.
“Yes, really,” he said, and then he placed his hands on the piano and began playing along side of me.
The music filled my soul, as we played in unison, as though we had been doing this together all of our lives. I used to play duets with my brother, and it made me feel even more at home. I was glad Elliot was going to stay.
After we had played several songs, we went into the kitchen again, and I cut the pie.
“Never tasted such good pie,” Elliot smiled as he ate his piece.
“I’m glad you like it,” I smiled.
I was discovering that I was going to like his company.
“The beds upstairs are probably dusty,” I said, “but there isn’t any way we can air them out tonight.”
“I don’t mind a little dust,” he insisted.
“You can pick which ever room you wish to sleep in. I will stay in my old room, I suppose. Right now, though, I am going out to the bath house in the back and take a bath. When I am through, you can use it,” I told him.
“I will look forward to that,” he smiled.
I walked across the yard, bringing a lamp with me. It was good to be home again, I thought. It wasn’t going to be as lonely as I thought, either. I let out a breath of relief. I had been trying to be brave, and Elliot had sensed that I wasn’t as sure of myself as I pretended to be. He was going to be a very valued friend, I told myself happily, as I began to run the water in the tub. Now my future did not look as bleak as I thought it was going to be.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elliot helped me plant the garden, in between cutting wood to sell in town. On the week-ends, he would take his load of wood to town, and return the next day, staying in his old boarding house for a single night. He kept my aunt up on how I was doing, so she didn’t have to worry about me. I found several dresses I had left behind, and even some old dresses that belonged to my mother. I wore my mother’s dresses, because she was bigger than I was, and so her clothes fit me more loosely.
My life started to follow a routine that most farmers followed. I would rise early and milk the cow, collect the eggs and then start breakfast. Elliot would go out and cut wood, in the morning, after breakfast, and later, working the farm after lunch. I seldom saw him, except at meal times, and in the evening, he would retire to his bed after dinner. There were a few enjoyable times that we played the piano with each other, and sometimes we would sit in the evening, on the front porch, drinking lemonade, made from lemons he brought to me from town.
It was then that we found moments to talk together, but we never talked about anything serious. I merely told him about my childhood, here on the farm, and he told me about his life in Ireland.
I finally received a letter from my family, which Elliot brought from Aunt Kelly’s house, telling me about Jessie having a son, and how well the farm in Oregon was doing. They all missed me, and told me I could come join them if I wished.
Only my life here was comforting, I thought. I was getting bigger, and assumed I would be having my baby in another month or so. Elliot still wanted to bring a midwife, in order to deliver it, but I wasn’t sure when I was going to have it, and I assumed I could do just fine on my own.
I thought about the women on the wagon train that had babies. They seemed to manage; I at least, had Elliot there, if I needed anything during the ordeal.
I had busied myself making baby clothes with my mother’s old treadle sewing machine that had been too heavy to take with us. At the time, I had been upset to have to leave it behind, but now I was glad it had been left, as I sewed little night shirts to dress my new baby in. I cut up old sheets and clothes to make them out of, and cut up several extra towels to make into diapers.
Elliot brought me some soft material to use for baby blankets, and I also fashioned some little quilts. There were things in the attic I could use as well, like an old crib that belonged to my sister when she was a baby. There was a highchair that my grandfather had made when my father was a baby, and each one of us had used when we were children. There was even a little rocking horse, my father had made for Jessie when he was small, and all those things brought back fond memories, as I brought them down and put them into Becky’s room which I was turning into the nursery. Becky’s had left toys and books in the room, which I kept there for future use.
Elliot was sleeping in my parent’s room, and I remained in my original room, being reminded of my past as I lay in the room, looking aroun
d me before I rose in the morning. The memory of Shadow Hawk was starting to fade, until I found myself dreaming of him at night unexpectedly, and all those familiar feelings would start stirring through me again.
Elliot was being patient with me, and never tried to take over how things were run. He always acknowledged that the farm belonged to me, and I was the one to make decisions concerning it. I missed him when he went in to sell his wood, and often worried that he would change his mind, and remain in town, regretting he had ever agreed to stay on the farm to help me. Happily, he always returned, and on those occasions, I would make a point to have something special waiting ,which I had baked for him.
“How are you feeling?” Elliot asked me, when he came in for lunch. “You look tired.”
“Actually I feel restless,” I told him.
“Well, don’t over do it. That baby of yours should be due soon, and I don’t want you being too tired to deliver it. I decided to read some books on the subject that I borrowed from the local doctor in town, just so I would be prepared.”
“You did that?” I asked, feeling impressed.
“You know how worried I am about this. You have never had a baby before, so you may not know what to expect. I certainly know nothing about it, and from the books I have been reading, it looks pretty scary to me. Just let it be known that I am glad I am not a woman!” he laughed.
“My mother had three children, so I am sure I am up to it,” I told him bravely.
“Well I am glad you are all optimistic about it. I don’t think I will be going in with my wood though, until after the child is born. I don’t want to be away when you go into labor.”
“Surely you are not going to stand by and witness it,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Who else is going to assist you?” he asked.
“You have never even…have you been with a woman before?” I suddenly asked, not knowing how experienced he was about those things.
“In my younger days when I was wild and crazy. I just never found a woman to fall in love with, though, so I stopped carousing around, and taking advantage of women who willingly fell into my bed.”
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