“Surely there must be something I can do.” As odd as it sounded, she didn’t want to go back to simply sitting on the porch while the others labored around her. She didn’t relish hard work, but it no longer seemed right to expect everyone else to contribute to keeping the plantation running while she read or sewed. “With the new women helping in the garden and doing laundry and working in the house, I find myself free to try something different.”
“Well.” Harriet glanced about the spacious room. Finally, her gaze landed on the basket near the door. She seemed pleased. “You could gather the eggs an’ feed the chickens.”
“Feed the chickens?” What did chickens eat?
“The pigs need their slop, too.”
Slop? The word sounded … smelly.
Natalie squared her shoulders, sending her squeamish thoughts packing. “Very well. If you’ll tell me where to find the chicken feed and the … slop, I will tend the animals.”
Uncertainty flashed in Harriet’s eyes, but she nodded. “The chicken feed is in the grain barn closest to the coop. A few big handfuls ought to do it. Just scatter it on the ground. You can leave the gate open so’s they can run out in the yard once they done eatin’. They help keep the bugs an’ grasshoppers out’a the garden. The slop barrel be just outside the pigpen. Give ’em three or four bucketfuls, but take care not to get it on your clothes.”
The warning reinforced her initial assessment of the word slop.
With the basket in hand, she headed for the barn. When she passed near the quarter, she called to Samuel. He came running.
“I’m going to feed the chickens and the pigs. Would you like to help?”
“Yes, Mama!” He skipped ahead of her to the smallest of the three barns. “I’ve seen Harriet feed the chickens a’fore.”
“Good,” she said, following him into the dim interior. “You can teach me.”
Samuel was already at the bin, peering inside. “Harriet puts the food in her apron and carries it to the chickens.” He looked up to Natalie. “How you gonna carry it, Mama?”
Hmm. She hadn’t realized she needed a vessel to carry the feed in. The weave of the egg basket was too loose to contain the bits of cracked corn and small seeds. A quick inspection of the surrounding area revealed nothing adequate for the task. Looking down at the pale blue skirt of her dress, she shrugged. “I suppose I can put it in my pockets.” Surely that would suffice.
A few minutes later, the pair headed toward the chicken yard, Samuel’s nonstop chatter filling the morning air. At least three dozen full-sized birds hurried toward the gate when they arrived, noisily clucking their welcome. Another group of smaller, scraggly looking chickens hung back, watching.
“Those are the babies,” Samuel said, rushing into the fenced yard as soon as Natalie unlatched the gate. “Ain’t they funny lookin’? Harriet says they don’t lay eggs yet on account of them just hatchin’ not long ago.”
Natalie nodded, pleased to have her wise son along to provide information. She watched him try to catch one of the smaller birds, sending the entire group into a run. The larger chickens clustered around her feet, pecking at the material of her skirt, clucking their impatience.
“They certainly are eager,” she said, setting the basket on the ground. Immediately, several chickens went over to investigate. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small handful of feed and tossed it on the ground around her. “Here you go.”
The group of birds near the basket hurried over to join the others pecking at the food, their beaks snatching the pieces of corn faster than Natalie could have imagined. “My, you are hungry.” She reached into her pocket again, but before she could pull out another handful of food, a large red hen flapped her wings and flew at Natalie.
“Oh!” She whirled out of the way to avoid getting feathers in her face and backed into the open gate. The hem of her skirt snagged on a sharp edge, leaving her stocking-clad ankles exposed. Afraid the soldiers or someone near the barns might see her, she worked to get the material free without tearing it. All the while, cracked corn spilled from her pocket, attracting the chickens.
“Shoo,” she said when they ran under her skirt and between her feet. “Go away.”
Samuel stood watching from a safe distance, a curious look on his face.
When a large black rooster with colorful tail feathers got too close, she flicked her skirt to scare him off. The bird, however, did not appreciate the sudden movement. Instead of running away, he let out a fierce screech, leaped at the skirt, and dug his sharp claws into Natalie’s leg.
With a screech of her own, she sprang forward, the material of her skirt ripping from where it had been snagged. Startled by the commotion, the chickens scurried to the opposite side of the yard while the rooster strutted nearby, making angry noises.
Samuel ran over, his eyes big. “Harriet says we shouldn’t make the rooster mad ’cuz he’s mean.”
This news had come a bit too late.
Lifting the hem of her skirt, she was dismayed to see a trail of blood staining her torn stocking. Tossing a glare in the rooster’s direction, she headed out the gate. “Come, Samuel.”
They exited the chicken yard. Harriet had instructed her to leave the gate open, but Natalie feared the rooster might attack again, so she closed it, securing the latch. After sticking her tongue out at the strutting bird, too late she realized the egg basket lay toppled over on the ground inside. She had yet to gather the eggs.
“Let’s feed the pigs,” she said, putting her hand out to her son, who grasped it. “We’ll come back for the eggs later.”
The pigpen was situated behind the largest barn. A foul odor greeted them as they rounded the building, and Natalie wrinkled her nose.
Samuel released her hand and climbed up on the bottom rung of the low fence. “Moses said one of the mama pigs has babies.” He gasped, then giggled. “There they are. They sure are little.”
Natalie joined her son at the fence. A large sow lay in the far corner of the muddy yard nursing nine or ten pink piglets. Seeing Natalie and Samuel, she grunted but otherwise remained where she was. Several of the other pigs, covered in filth, meandered in their direction.
Glancing about, Natalie spied a large barrel pushed up against the three-sided shed the animals used to get out of the sun or rain. “I suppose that’s the slop.” She cringed. If what was inside the barrel smelled as bad as the air in the pig yard, she feared she might lose her breakfast.
Moving to it, she eyed the covered container. Dried drips of something ran down the sides, and a horde of flies buzzed around it. Rolling up her cuffs so they wouldn’t get soiled, she took a deep breath and held it in her lungs. She opened the lid.
Her eyes shot wide at the sight that met her. Slamming the lid down, she quickly backed away from the barrel, her breath swooshing out.
“Oh! It’s horrible.” A shiver slid up her spine with a picture of the watery mixture of vegetable scraps, stale bread, corn, and who knew what else firmly planted in her mind. She eyed the pigs that had followed her across the yard, obviously waiting for their breakfast. “You enjoy eating that mess?”
They stared back.
With a frustrated sigh, she weighed her options. If she went back to the house and begged Harriet to finish the job, the servant would do just that without saying a word about Natalie’s ineptness. But Natalie couldn’t do that. She may not be strong enough to tote water to the garden or handy in the kitchen, but surely she could feed a few animals.
Determined, she marched back to the barrel. Holding her breath, she removed the lid, picked up the pail sitting next to it, and dipped it into the slop. The pigs grunted, squealed, and jockeyed for position at the trough as Natalie dumped the slimy contents over the fence into the wooden crib. Splashes of the mess flew into the air, much of it escaping through the fence slats and landing on her skirt.
She repeated the process three more times, oddly satisfied to see the pigs gleefully gobbling down their nasty meal
. After replacing the lid on the barrel, she spied a pump near the barn door.
“I’m going to wash my hands, Samuel.” Her son had climbed to the top rail of the fence while she distributed the slop. He happily watched the pigs enjoy their food.
“All right, Mama.”
It took several minutes of rinsing her hands in the cool, clear water before she felt they were clean again. A look at her skirt revealed flecks of foodstuffs there. She grimaced. Well, perhaps today she would learn how to do laundry.
Returning to the pigpen, Natalie came to an abrupt stop. “Samuel!”
Her son stood in the middle of the muddy pig yard, ankle deep in the smelly muck.
“Come out of there this minute.” She hurried to the fence. Although the pigs were still busy with their meal, the sow with the piglets was on her feet, looking at Samuel.
“My shoe is stuck, Mama.”
Natalie opened the gate to the pen. Mud, manure, and bits of straw filled much of the space.
“Try to work it free,” she said, watching her son struggle to lift his foot. His thin arms flailed while his face scrunched up. Suddenly, his foot popped out of the shoe, which stayed planted where it was, sending him backwards into the muck. A look of startled surprise washed over him.
His laughter rang out a moment later, and even Natalie had to chuckle.
The sow, however, was not pleased. She grunted angrily, glancing between her babies and Samuel. She took a menacing step forward.
Levi tied his horse to the hitching post in front of Rose Hill Manor, feeling foolish for coming. He’d told himself the entire ride over that he simply wanted to check on the new workers and make certain they were settled in their temporary home. It was, after all, the exact thing he’d been commissioned to do when he’d arrived on Texas’ shores. The newly freed men and women across the state would need help gaining independence after a lifetime of bondage. With the thirty men and handful of women he’d hired to work on Rose Hill being his first attempt at fulfilling that commission, it made sense he would want to have a role in its success.
But he couldn’t fool himself with such thoughts. He’d left two capable privates in charge of the new workers, and he knew Moses was there to supervise and offer instructions specific to Rose Hill. They certainly didn’t need a man with no farm experience giving advice regarding things he knew nothing about. Now, ask him about building cedar chests or bentwood rockers and the like, then he could teach them a thing or two.
He glanced about and found no one around, although he’d seen field workers laboring over the cotton plants as he’d ridden up the lane. Harvest was still several weeks away, but the crop needed careful tending, lest bugs and weeds interfere with healthy plants. He’d instructed his men to assist with the work rather than sitting on their horses as an overseer would. Neither of them seemed bothered by the order, and Levi was again grateful for the farm boys in his command. They were used to the hard work of tilling, hoeing, and picking, and they would provide the experience Levi lacked.
Childish laughter sounded from down the hill, near the barns. Wondering if it was Samuel—and guessing the lad’s mother wouldn’t be far if it were—he headed in that direction. Voices led him to the back of the barn to the pigpen, but he was not prepared for the sight that met him.
“Co’nel!”
Samuel, covered in smelly mud, ran to him. He noticed the boy was missing a shoe. But it was Natalie, sprawled in the middle of the pen, who rendered him speechless. When she jerked her head around to look at him, surprise in her eyes, her face reddened. She looked away, struggling to get to her feet.
“My shoe got stuck in the mud. Mama tried to get it out, but she fell down.” Samuel giggled.
Natalie’s slippers were covered in the slimy mess. She held what appeared to be Samuel’s mud-covered shoe in one hand, but getting up from the awkward position seemed to be proving difficult.
An angry grunt sounded. Levi had been so shocked to find Natalie in the pen that he hadn’t taken notice of the animals whose home she’d invaded. While most of the pigs didn’t seem bothered by her presence, a large sow with a litter of babies nearby had her eyes fixed on Natalie.
“Would you like some help?” He approached the gate. His instinct was to rush in and carry her to safety, but the last time he’d done that, she hadn’t been pleased.
“No.”
The clipped word said it all.
Samuel climbed up the fence and sat on the top rung. “Me and Mama fed the pigs. And the chickens.”
Levi’s brow rose. He’d been curious what these two were doing at the pigpen. Shaking his head in wonder, he continued to watch Natalie struggle. The sow did too.
“I’d be happy to help.” He leaned against the fence next to Samuel. The boy looked at him, and they exchanged a grin.
“I don’t need help.”
Her thrashing in the mud said otherwise, but he kept that to himself. After a long moment, she managed a wobbly stance. But when she tried to lift one foot, it refused to give way, and back she fell on her behind.
Her squeal, along with the sudden movement, was apparently too much for the sow. The big animal let out a fierce snort and charged. Levi reacted as though he’d heard the call to battle. He rushed into the pen and yelled at the sow. Waving his arms, he herded her back to where her piglets cowered in the corner.
When he felt the animal was no longer a threat, he turned to Natalie. “We need to get you out of here before she decides to take a bite out of us both.” With that, he bent down and scooped her into his arms, the squishing sound of wet suction releasing its prey and eliciting a giggle from Samuel. Levi carried her beyond the gate and set her down before he realized she was missing both of her shoes. Looking back to the pen, he could make out the shapes of two small slippers.
Samuel hopped down from the fence and came over. He looked his mother up and down, looked at Levi, and let out a belly laugh.
“Samuel, this is not funny.” She scowled at her son.
When her angry gaze turned to Levi, he attempted to remain straight-faced. But a streak of mud across her nose did him in. A snicker shook his shoulders.
“Surely you are not laughing at me too!”
“No, ma’am.” His shoulders bounced slightly as he fought to control himself. Her scowl darkened.
“I could have been mauled by that beast.”
Samuel’s little-boy giggles filled the air with merriment. Levi couldn’t contain it any longer. He laughed. Harder than he’d laughed in years.
At first, Natalie seemed outraged. But when Levi and Samuel’s hilarity persisted, her lips twitched. Soon, she burst into girlish giggles Levi found irresistible.
After a time, she looked down at herself. “Oh,” she said, sobering. “This is awful. I thought getting splashed with slop was bad.” She glanced at his coat and boots, also covered in muck. “I hope you haven’t ruined your uniform.”
“I’m sure it can be cleaned.”
She smiled into his eyes. He got lost in the pools of blue until Samuel piped up.
“Mama, what about your shoes?” One pig nudged the slippers around with its snout.
She laughed. “The pigs can have them.”
“I’d be happy to carry you to the house,” Levi said, itching to have her in his arms again, smelly muck and all.
Natalie’s brow rose at his suggestion. She glanced at her son, who seemed interested in the conversation. “That isn’t necessary, Colonel. I’m sure I can walk just fine.”
They began a slow trek toward the manor, her watching the path, stepping carefully over small stones and sticks.
“I admit my surprise at finding you in the pigpen.” When she flashed him a scowl, he clarified. “I mean, Samuel informed me the two of you were feeding the pigs. That surprises me. I would think the servants would tend the animals.”
Samuel ran ahead of them, chasing a dragonfly, his gait comical with one shoe on and one shoe off.
“They normally
do, but I volunteered to help.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m not very good at any plantation chores.”
“We fed the chickens, too,” Samuel said, skipping back to her side. “But Mama made the rooster mad. She got blood on her leg.”
“It attacked you?” Levi asked, concerned.
A faint blush filled her cheeks. “I’m fine. Just a scratch, is all.”
Recalling the blisters she’d received from toting water, he felt a wave of sympathy for the muck-covered widow as they reached the bottom of the porch steps. “That may be, but it is best if we clean it properly. Especially considering where you’ve just been. If you’ll sit, I can see about the wound.”
Her blush deepened. “As I said, Colonel, that isn’t necessary, but I appreciate the offer. Thank you for your assistance at the pigpen.” With that, she hurried up the steps, leaving muddy footprints on the whitewashed wood, and disappeared into the house.
Levi watched her go, amused by the whole affair. When he looked down at Samuel, the boy was grinning up at him.
Together, they shared a good laugh.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A slight breeze teased Natalie’s hair as she and Samuel sat on the grass in the shade of the ancient black walnut tree with Carolina and Moses’ family. Thick branches and lush foliage overhead offered a respite from the sweltering weather now that July had arrived with the promise of sunny days and little rain.
“Did the others say they’s comin’?” Harriet asked her husband, fanning herself with an unhemmed square of cloth.
“They said they is.” Moses glanced in the direction of the quarter. “Told ’em we don’t meet in the chapel when it get hot like this. I ’spect the Lawd don’t mind where we meet on His day, ’long as we get together an’ say a word or two of praise.”
The couple exchanged a smile.
Natalie looked away, not wanting to intrude on a private moment. The love the pair had for each other was evident. As far back as she could remember, they’d been together. Even before Natalie married George and moved to Rose Hill, Moses and Harriet had lived on the Langford plantation. When Natalie married, Papa gave Moses to her as a wedding gift. After Aunt Lu ran away with Adella, leaving Rose Hill without a cook, Papa gave Harriet to Natalie too.
The Widow of Rose Hill (The Women of Rose Hill Book 2) Page 10