Rand rocked his chair onto the back legs, picking up the game. “Of course, we wouldn’t have branded her yet, but…”
Ruby shook her head. “You two.” She kissed Per and wiped his nose again. “Blow, Per.”
He looked up at her and coughed, then sneezed instead.
“Well, that worked about the same.” Ruby wiped his nose and face and glanced up at Opal. “You did save some of that goose fat, didn’t you?”
“Yes, there was plenty after I made the gravy. I poured it into the crock.” Goose grease had many uses, one of which was for healing chapped skin. Bear grease was best for waterproofing boots, chaps, and even leather jackets. Rand had learned that from the Indians. Opal handed him the baby and fetched the crock.
Per turned his face away when Ruby dipped some up with her finger, but she persisted until his nose, cheeks, and mouth wore a patina of the fat. After rubbing the last of it into the backs of her hands, Ruby put both arms around her son and rocked back and forth.
Opal added more wood to the fire. “If we’re to have bread today, I better get going on it.” She cleared the table and put the dishes into the steaming dishpan. This wasn’t what she’d planned for today, but the book she’d been reading would have to wait.
“Why don’t you forget the bread and make biscuits,” Ruby suggested. “All right.” Opal felt a surge of relief.
Rand stood with his daughter in his arm and carried her over to the cradle he’d moved near the back of the stove. Ghost, their mottled gray-and-black cow dog, looked up from her nest, yawned, and went back to sleep. Laying the baby on her tummy in the cradle, Rand covered her with the baby quilt Ruby had made and checked the woodbox. “I’ll fill both of these and stack some more inside the door so it warms up. There’s snow on everything out there.”
“You’re not going out to the barn, are you?” Ruby yawned, her jaw cracking.
“No. Once I get the wood in, Opal and I are going to bring our bed in here where it is warmer. You and Per both look ready for a nap. Then we’ll bring Per’s bed in, and Opal can bunk with him. I’m going to close off the back of the house by hanging the buffalo robe over that doorway.” He indicated the hall entry. “Next time I build a house, the fireplace is going on an inside wall so the heat can go both ways. That hole in the wall works fine except when the cold gets as bad as this.” He shook his head. “Some different having a family in here instead of a bunch of ranch hands.”
“What a good idea, not that you are planning on building a new house any time soon.” Ruby felt Per’s forehead again and shook her head. “You better take some of those willow twigs I brought in and steep them for a tea. Rand, we still have some of the whiskey, don’t we?”
Opal knew that honey and whiskey added to the willow-bark tea was good for coughs, and from the sound of Per, she’d better get it made sooner rather than later.
Some time later with the back rooms blocked off, Opal could feel a difference in the heat. Between the fireplace and the kitchen stove, the room felt almost warm, although with the beds in place, there wasn’t a lot of room for walking around. Ruby and the children slept through the clink of stove lids that made noise no matter how hard Opal tried to add wood silently. The wind seemed to have let up, or else she’d just grown so used to it that she ignored the howling and shrieking.
Rand brought in more wood, lining it up against the wall next to the back door. “I think this is the worst I’ve seen since I moved here.” He spoke in low tones so as not to disturb those sleeping.
Opal had a boiler steaming with diapers that she’d need to hang to dry. While Ruby had strung the winter clothesline on the back porch, they now needed one in the kitchen.
Rand took his hammer and a thin rope to the buffalo-hide drape. “I’ll stretch this in our bedroom. The diapers can freeze dry there so we still have room to move around in here.”
Opal kneaded her back with her fists. Making biscuits, cooking, scrubbing diapers on the scrub board, then rinsing and wringing them as dry as possible—no wonder Ruby was tired by the end of the day. I’d rather do roundup and branding anytime than this. And what’s happening with the cattle and the horses? She knew Rand was thinking much the same but was being very careful about what he said so as not to distress his wife. Ruby needed all her energy to take care of the baby and get well herself.
By evening, with the storm still raging, Opal thought to read awhile.
Rand stoked the fires and lay down with a sigh. “Wake me when you go to bed, all right?”
“Sure.” But it wasn’t two minutes later that Mary started to fuss, and that woke Per, who started to cry, and that set him to coughing.
“Is there any more of that tea?” Ruby asked.
“Yes, I’ll get it.” Opal had poured the remainder into a small jar and set it on the warming shelf of the stove. She closed her book and heaved herself to her feet to fetch the medicine and a spoon.
Per turned his head away when she tried to spoon it into his mouth. “Ma.”
“Come on, Per, be a good boy.” He shook his head. She whipped the spoon back just in time to keep him from spilling it.
“Do we have any clean diapers?” Ruby asked.
“A few. The others will be dry by morning.”
“Better bring some in and dry them above the stove.” Ruby sounded as weary as Opal felt. “I’m sorry I’m not more help.”
“We’re doin’ fine.” Rand jumped out of their bed, shoved his feet into his leather moccasins, and headed for the cold part of the house. He brought back an armful of frozen stiff diapers and leaned them on the backs of chairs. “Guess we could dry them with an iron if we had to.”
Opal looked at the solid standing squares of white flannel. “New kind of table decorations?”
“No, we invited diapers for dinner.” Rand winked at her.
“Soon they’ll be melting with joy.” She tried to keep a straight face, but glancing at Ruby did her in. She wore a Lord-deliver-me kind of look.
Opal felt a giggle coming on, the kind that happens when you are so tired you can’t see straight.
But Per started coughing again, so hard his whole body shook.
“I’ll hold him. You bring the medicine.” Rand picked up his son and wrapped both arms around him, one around his middle, the other his head. “Now.”
“Rand, be careful.” Ruby waved her free hand.
He nodded to her and then to Opal.
Lord, help us. Opal shot her plea heavenward, as she’d been doing all afternoon.
Per screamed, but he swallowed the two spoonfuls.
“Thank you, Lord.” Rand’s heartfelt prayer covered it for all three of them.
The night ahead, their second with the storm raging, loomed long and dark.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’d just as soon you stayed up here in the main house. You know what the last blizzard was like.” Cora Robertson looked over her shoulder to the man shrugging into his heavy wool coat.
“We have the ropes strung. I’m closer to the barn from the soddy.”
“I know, but…” She shook her head. “I just got me a feeling. We have plenty of beds. You and Joel can take my bed, and I’ll sleep with one of the girls. Sometimes when it’s real bad cold we bring the beds or pallets into the kitchen and sleep by the stove.”
“It gets that cold?”
“It can. One year the water bucket froze not ten feet from the stove. We wore our coats and hats in the house, mittens too.”
Jacob let out a sigh and gave a slight nod. “Do I need to go get anything from the soddy?”
“Not that I know of.” A smile lightened the seriousness of her face. “Glad you changed your mind.”
“Me too, Pa.” Joel unwound his muffler and hung it back on the peg by the door, followed by his coat.
“Think I’ll bring in more wood.” Jacob glanced at the full woodbox. “Stack it by the door?”
“We never can have too much dry wood.” Cora Robertson pulled t
he coffeepot to the front of the stove. “Give everybody a hot drink before we go to bed. We got plenty of hot rocks too and a bed warmer.” She pointed to a round shallow pan with a lid and a long handle. “Fill that with coals and slide it around under the covers.” A shadow crossed her face, like a cloud hiding the sun. She turned to fetch a gingerbread cake from the larder.
Jacob tucked his chin into his collar, the muffler he’d received for a Christmas present wrapped around his hat and the lower part of his face. He brought in five loads of wood, with Joel opening and closing the door for him to keep as much of the cold outside as possible. Even here on the sheltered side of the house, the wind drove the snow in what looked to be an impenetrable wall. The roar of it sounded like a train passing overhead. His nose burned in spite of the scarf.
Once inside again he pushed a rolled-up rug tight against the door to keep out the wind and blowing snow. The windows were all frost-covered, as bad inside as out. Dark had fallen by three o’clock, not that there’d been much daylight. While he and Joel had slept in the soddy last night, he was grateful he’d not insisted they set out again. Besides, this way there was someone else in the house to help keep the fires burning.
When he crawled into bed with a hot rock at his feet and the warming pan had proved its worth, he wished he’d brought his Bible from the soddy. Lord God, thou who seest all, protect us by the power of your mighty hand. Thank you for this snug house to keep us from the storm. Please take care of Opal and her family.
“Pa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mind if I call her Auntie Colleen like I always have?”
“Not at all.” Jacob still thrilled every time his son referred to him as Pa. Since they’d known of each other less than a year, there had been a lot of adjustments to be made. When he left his parish in Pennsylvania and fled west with his newfound son at his side, they’d not talked much. They’d not liked each other too well at first, but their new life had been good for both of them. And God put them here at the Robertsons’ at a time when they were sorely needed after Ward Robertson’s death.
“Good. I’m glad she’s staying. You’ll like her when you get to know her.”
“I’m sure I will.” Talk about a surprise—Miss O’Shaunasy showing up like that to claim his son for her nephew. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!” The couplet floated through his mind. One of these days Joel was going to start asking some rather embarrassing questions, and he needed to be ready with some honest answers. Ah, the consequences of a thoughtless night of passion. Well, not thoughtless. Before it happened, he’d thought of nothing else. Then he spent the rest of his years after Melody disappeared trying to ignore what he’d done.
Lord God, I know Melody is with you. How desperate she was and in such terrible pain. I cannot blame her for what she did, and I thank you that she had the presence of mind to bring this boy to me first. I never thought I would say that, but then, I do not pretend to understand your ways. Bless us, Father, in Jesus’ name. Amen. He rolled onto his side, listening to the wind and straining to hear the gentle breaths of his son beside him. How was Joel feeling this first Christmas without his mother? He had grown up so much, but he never mentioned her.
He woke some time later and, pulling his pants on over his long johns, headed for the kitchen to stoke the stoves again. He’d just finished turning down the dampers so that the wood would burn more slowly when Mrs. Robertson joined him.
“You didn’t need to get up,” he whispered.
“I wasn’t sure if I heard you out here or if it was the storm. Thank you.” She walked before him back to the cold bedrooms.
Grateful for his son’s warmth, Jacob crawled back under the covers. Lord, please wake me again. This was just the right time.
The next time he woke, he fed the fires again and decided to stay up. He checked the shelves, and sure enough, the Robertson family Bible held a place of honor. After lighting a kerosene lamp, he pulled a rocker close to the kitchen stove, opened the oven, put his feet up on the door, and basked in the warmth. Even hot as his feet soon were, the cold drafts on the back of his neck made him fetch his muffler and throw it over his shoulders. He turned to the Gospels, reading the miracles that Jesus performed, and then stopped at the verse, “Greater works than these will you do because I go to the Father.” He made the blind see, the lame walk, drove out demons, and yet He says greater works are we to do. Lord, what am I missing here? You say all things come by faith. He flipped to another passage. “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say to this mountain, remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.” Heavenly Father, I want to take you at your word. I want that kind of faith, but where do I find it? He leaned his head against the back of the rocker. I’m sure, like everything, it grows, so I ask for faith seeds. I feel you are calling me, that you brought me here to Medora for a reason. Well, for many reasons, most likely. If I am to pastor this group of people, I need more—more knowledge, more wisdom, and most of all, more faith. I ran before. I will not run again.
The picture of Opal in her glorious blue gown flashed before his eyes. How that sight had set his heart to hammering. But I cannot hurry time either. Rand made it clear I can say nothing to her of how I feel until she turns sixteen, a full year from May. Plenty of time to learn discipline—and to love her more each day. He refused to allow thoughts of her not loving him back to take up residence in his mind. If she is to be my wife, I have to leave it all in your hands. I want to trust you. In spite of Atticus. He’d overheard her telling one of the girls that she’d told her friend Atticus she would be here when he returned.
Nothing like a little competition.
Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with Edith? She so obviously was willing for me to court her. He had told Mrs. Robertson that he had no romantic feelings for Edith and didn’t want to hurt her feelings any more than he already had. He knew the girl had been sent off to help her older sister as a means to make things easier on her in the long run.
So he had to wait for Opal to grow up.
“You didn’t stay out here all night?” Mrs. Robertson entered the room, tying on her apron.
“No, not at all, but the last time I added wood to the stove, I thought I could use the time more wisely than sleeping it away.”
“Ah yes. Any time spent in the Word is more valuable than sleeping. That’s what saved my life after Ward was killed. I’d sit here just like you are and find the comfort our Father promises. I memorized Psalm 91 so that I would always remember I am safe in the shadow of His wings. He orders our footsteps. He decides how many days we have on this earth. My job is to give Him praise and glory.”
“And to love one another. Thank you for the reminder.”
“That too.”
“You have shown that love to Joel and me, making us part of your family. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Hard as you work is more than sufficient thanks. I was hoping to be able to pay you wages by now, but with this storm—blizzards and cold like this are hard on range cattle. I thank God I listened to Rand and sold off the steers rather than keeping some of them another year.”
“He’s a wise man and listens to God’s prompting.” Jacob recognized wisdom when he saw it.
Mrs. Robertson poured the coffee into the pot, then added water and two whole eggs in the shells.
“Why do you add the eggs?”
“So we have something to eat along with our coffee. They’ll be done when the coffee is.”
“I see. My mother used to throw in eggshells when she took the boiling coffee off the stove. Said it made the grounds settle.”
“I’ve heard that.” Cora set a frying pan on the stove and, taking a pan of cornmeal cooked the night before and left to set in loaf pans, removed a loaf and sliced it to fry. With a dollop of bacon grease from the canister on the warming shelf, she moved the frying pan to the hotter part
of the stove and laid the slices of mush in the pan to sizzle and snap.
“As soon as it dies down some, I’ll get on out to the barn with water for the animals.”
“The animals are not nearly as important as your life.”
The words lay there, an edict or a challenge. Jacob watched Mrs. Robertson go about her cooking as if the matter were settled.
“I can’t see letting them die for lack of water.” He smiled when she poured him a cup of coffee and handed him a shelled boiled egg in a bowl. “Thanks.” Surely I can get to the barn and back with the rope. Please, Lord, calm these winds as you did on the sea.
“Ma, Emily won’t let me wear her sweater. Mine’s too small, and she has two.” Ada Mae made a beeline for the stove front.
“You girls settle your own differences.” Mrs. Robertson turned the browning cornmeal slices. “Breakfast is nearly ready.”
“I’ll get Joel up.” Jacob heaved himself to his feet. Why did he feel as though the fate of all the Robertson livestock rested on his shoulders? How did one find prayer time with all these children running in and out? Not that the older girls could be called children anymore. And the arguing—could they never get along? He closed the door behind him and entered the room where Joel hardly made a mound under the covers.
“Breakfast, son.” He shook the boy’s shoulder.
“All right.”
Jacob tucked Joel’s pants and shirt under the covers. “You’re going to want to dress where you are. The girls are all in by the stove.” He’d heard the sound of their feet padding toward the kitchen. They’d most likely dressed under the covers too. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. His breath hung in a white cloud.
“Blizzard still blowing?” His son’s voice came from the depths of the bed, where the bumping of the covers showed he was doing what his father said.
“Yes.”
“Second day.”
“I know.”
Joel’s head popped out of the covers. “It’s cold in here.”
“I know.” Jacob could feel the cold penetrating his woolen shirt, right through his woolen long johns. Now he understood why men wore sheepskin vests in this part of the country, or those made of deer hide with the hair left on. He’d read of people wearing buffalo, elk, or deer robes, since most of the cattle hides were tanned to be used for shoes, chaps, and harness and tack repairs. He had two down at the barn that he wished he’d brought up to the house so they could be put to good use—like covering the window.
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