Dorothy Garlock (41 page)

Whiskey! Dear Lord, he needed a drink.

Foster thought of how Lily and Hettie had waited for him to take charge and tell them what to do.
Him,
the tavern drunk! He thought of the years he’d spent in a drunken stupor, not caring if he lived or died as long as he had a jug of whiskey.

There had to be contentment for him someplace. He could no longer blame his wife for his drinking. He seldom thought of her anymore, and when he did, it was to wonder how he could have been such a fool. Owen and his new wife had offered him a home. He’d not be worth much if he let them or Hettie down. Hettie, who couldn’t take care of herself, had offered to help him.

A voice, steeped with sincerity, rang in his ears.
I’ll help you be good, Foster. I’ll help you be good, Foster. I’ll help you—

Foster looked toward the east. A fresh new morning had dawned. He hadn’t prayed since the war. He did so now.

“God, help me to make this day a turning point in my life.”

He slid off the end of the wagon and began the morning chores.

*   *   *

Ana looked at the clock. Owen and Soren had been gone almost two hours. Hettie sat in the rocking chair, crooning to baby Harry. Occasionally she looked to her daughter, and a lost little-girl look came over her face. Lily tried to help Ana, but her movements were wooden.

Owen and Ana had been in the kitchen when Lily and Hettie arrived. Owen was holding Baby Harry while Ana cooked breakfast. Shocked at hearing the news, Owen had shaken his head as if denying what he had been told. Ana took the baby from his arms and handed him to Lily. Then she put her arms around him and hugged his head to her breast.

“I’m sorry, Owen. So sorry—” Ana held him, stroked his head and tried to still the trembling in his wide shoulders.

When Soren and Uncle Gus came in, Lily told them quietly what had happened. Soren exploded in a rage. He wanted to ride out and hunt Procter down. Uncle Gus placed a restraining hand on his arm and nodded silently toward Owen who had pulled Ana between his legs and wrapped his arms around her thighs. Soren calmed down and they stood awkwardly on first one foot and then the other while waiting for Owen to come to grips with his grief.

“We’ll bring her home as we’d planned,” Owen said when he released Ana and stood.

“And . . . Grandpa?” Lily asked hesitantly.

“Do you want to bring him here, Lily?” He placed his arm across the girl’s shoulders. Lily looked at Ana.

“He’s welcome, Lily,” Ana said gently. “Just tell us what you want done.”

“I don’t want to go back over there. Not now.”

“You don’t have to, honey. You and Hettie stay with Ana. We’ll bring both of them here.” Owen reached for his hat.

After the men left, Ana took the baby from Lily’s arms. “I’ll put him in the cradle.”

Lily saw the disappointment on Hettie’s face and followed Ana into the hall.

“Ana?” she whispered looking back to be sure Hettie was still in the kitchen. “Will you . . . will you let Mama hold him? She won’t hurt him,” she added quickly. “She’s just dying to hold him.”

Ana looked into Lily’s serious face and suddenly saw the resemblance to Owen. Although her eyes were brown and Owen’s blue, there was the same pucker to her brow, the same high cheekbones, the same earnestness in her eyes. Owen’s little sister was a lot like him.

“Mama has never hurt anything, not a bird or a chicken or anything. She loves little helpless things. She’d be so proud—”

“Of course she can hold Harry. My goodness. I just didn’t think about it.” Ana marched back into the kitchen. “I forgot to change the pad in the cradle, Hettie. It’s sopping wet. Would you mind holding Baby Harry? He loves to be rocked.”

“Oh . . . oh—” Hettie’s shining eyes went to Lily. “Did you hear that? She said I could hold him, Lily. I’ll be
so
careful, ma’am.” She sat down in the rocker and held out her arms.

“I know you will. I’ll not worry for a minute if he’s with you.” She placed the infant in Hettie’s lap. “Please call me Ana.” Ana turned her back and batted the tears from her eyes. The gentle look on the woman’s face when she took the baby in her arms tore at Ana’s heart.

“Ah . . . Lily,” Hettie exclaimed happily. “Looky at his little hand. He’s looking at me! See! His eyes are open—”

“Be careful with him, Mama. He’s awful little.”

“I’ll not let him be hurt. I promise. I’ll be so careful.”

Lily’s eyes misted when she saw the delight on her mother’s face.

“That baby will be spoiled rotten if Hettie has her way,” Ana said lightly, although she wanted to cry for the young girl with such a heavy burden of responsibility. Her loving protectiveness of her mother immediately endeared her to Ana.

“We’re going to stay here with her and Owen and the baby, ain’t we, Lily?” Hettie asked hopefully.

“We’ll see, Mama.” Lily quickly looked at Ana and added, “Is there something I can do?”

“No. Yes, there is.” Ana thought of how she had sat alone after Harriet’s death and how the time had dragged. “It would be a big help if you’d churn.” Ana lifted bread dough out onto a floured board. “Uncle Gus will be in with the morning milk. It’ll have to be strained and put in the cellar.”

Later in the morning, when Ana heard the wagon coming up the lane, she went out onto the porch, wiping her hands on the end of her apron. Owen drove the team with one foot propped upon the splashboard as he had done when they came from Lansing. She had thought him a grouch then. How mistaken she had been. He was the dearest thing in the world to her now. What a difference a few short weeks made in a person’s life.

Owen carried his sister’s body into the house and followed Ana to the front bedroom. After Esther was laid out on the bed, he turned and put his arms around his wife.

“We’ve got things to talk about before the neighbors come.”

“Lily and I will take care of Esther, if you and Soren will do for Mr. Knutson.”

Owen nodded. “I told Soren to put him in my room. Uncle Gus will go to White Oak and spread the news. But first we must talk.”

The family gathered in the kitchen. Ana poured coffee and laid out fresh bread, butter and jam for those who wanted it.

“Foster is absolutely sure that Procter didn’t mean to . . . ah, kill Esther. She was out of her mind and fighting as he tried to put her in the wagon to take her to his kinfolks. Jens must take the responsibility for that. He thought to spirit Esther away so that folks wouldn’t know she was brainsick. Procter had convinced him that he’d be looked down on. He had pride even if he didn’t act like it sometimes.

“I don’t think folks have to know that Esther’s mind was unsettled. I’d like for them to remember the good things she did during her lifetime. Uncle Gus, Soren, and Foster agree. We have decided to leave Procter to his own conscience. He’ll be running for the rest of his life. That will be punishment enough. We think it best to say that Esther climbed on the wagon, fell, and broke her neck. Jens’s heart gave out when she died. That much is the truth.”

When Owen finished, silence was thick in the room. Lily stood with bowed head. Ana’s heart hurt for Owen and for the young girl. Of course she would grieve for her grandpa even if he was ornery most of the time. She seemed sincere in her grief for Esther too. Ana wondered if Lily knew she had a brother who would look after her now.

“Lily said that Esther was sick in the head when she hit me, and didn’t know what she was doing.” Hettie’s voice was loud. When she looked at her daughter, Lily put her finger to her lips. “Is that right, Owen?” Hettie whispered.

“That’s right. When Esther was mean, it was because she was sick and scared. But we need to keep it a secret about her being sick in the head. Can you do that, Hettie?”

“I can do that. I’ll not tell. Can we stay here with you, Owen?”

“Mama! We’ll talk about that later.” Lily moved over and placed her hand on her mother’s shoulder.

“Owen, I like
her.
” Hettie’s smiling eyes settled on Ana. “She’s nice.”

“Yes, she is. Ana likes you and Lily, too.”

“I didn’t feed my chickens,” Hettie blurted. “They’ll be hungry—”

“Foster is taking care of the chores. He’ll feed your chickens and the runt pig you’ve been taking care of.” Soren spoke from where he leaned against the wall. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Lily’s pale face.

“I like Foster, too. I broke his bottle on a stump, Soren. I don’t want Foster to kill hisself with that whiskey.”

“Uncle Gus is ready to go to White Oak. He’ll spread the word and bring back two burial boxes. Is there anything you need, Ana?” Owen reached for Ana’s hand.

“Yes. Uncle Gus, have Violet at the store cut off enough pink satin to line Esther’s burial box and tell her we want a pretty bouquet of silk flowers to match—the kind she keeps to trim hats.” She turned to Lily. “Does your grandpa have a white shirt?”

“Not a good one.”

“Get a white shirt for Mr. Knutson—”

Owen bent his head close to Ana’s. “Honey, I think you’d better make out a list for Uncle Gus.”

B
y
mid-afternoon, the farmyard was full of buggies and wagons. Word of the double tragedy had spread fast. Violet rode back to the farm with Uncle Gus, Reverend and Mrs. Larson followed. There were plenty of willing hands to do what had to be done before the burial took place the following day.

Owen greeted each of the arrivals and introduced them to his wife. Ana had met most of them at Harriet’s funeral, but at that time her mind had been so occupied with grief she remembered only a few faces and names. She was accepted wholeheartedly by Owen’s neighbors, and her fear that he would be criticized for marrying his mother-in-law faded.

Esther was laid out in the satin-lined box in a white lawn blouse she hadn’t worn since her wedding day. One of her mother’s white sheets covered her from the waist down. The pink bouquet of silk flowers was fastened to her bosom. With her hair loosened and coiled over each ear, she looked peaceful and almost pretty. Uncle Gus had shaved Jens and dressed him in his burial clothes, and Lily had combed his hair. The coffins were set up in the parlor and the curtains drawn.

When this was done, Ana concentrated on suitable garments for Lily and Hettie to wear to the services. With Lily’s help she made over one of Esther’s skirts and put it with one of her own dark waists for Hettie. From Harriet’s dresses they chose a dark blue cotton for Lily, removed the white collar, and added a flounce to the bottom that they had taken from another dress.

Hettie took over the care of baby Harry. She fed him, diapered him, even washed his soiled napkins and hung them on the line. If he as much as let out a squeak she was there to pick him up. Ana was amazed and pleased at the careful way she handled the baby. She spoke to Lily about it while they searched Ana’s trunk for the black mourning ribbon she had worn at the service for Harriet.

“Your mother is taking wonderful care of Harry. She takes to it as if she had done it many times before.”

“Mama loves to take care of little helpless critters. She isn’t dumb like people think. She can learn to do things.”

“Has anyone ever tried to teach her to knit or sew?”

“I showed her how to darn stockings. She could never do anything to suit Esther. She treated her like she had no sense at all.”

“Maybe you and I can do something about that. Lily, Owen will want you and Hettie to stay here with us. I heard Hettie say she wants to. How do you feel about it?”

“And you, ma’am? How do you feel?” Tears glistened in Lily’s eyes.

“Of course I want you.” Ana put her arms around Lily and held her close. “You’re Owen’s family. He loves you like a . . . a sister.”

Lily pulled away and looked into Ana’s face. “Am I his sister.”

“He thinks you are,” Ana said quietly and watched for a surprised reaction on the young girl’s face. There was none.

“I think so, too. Mama said something that made me think it was Owen’s pa that . . . that did it to her. She was scared of him. When he came to the farm to see Grandpa about marrying Esther she hid in a room upstairs. Later when I was old enough to understand, I remembered that she said his
thing
was big and it hurt her.”

“Don’t let that make you scared of men, Lily. Owen or Soren would never force themselves on a woman. Think of what Hettie would have done all these years without you. A terrible experience for her turned out to be a blessing. You’re a daughter any woman would be proud of.”

Lily’s eyes filled. “Thank you,” she murmured and hurried from the room.

*   *   *

It was late before Ana was able to have a private word with Owen. She carried a cup of coffee to the parlor where he was keeping vigil beside the coffins. Later, Soren, then Uncle Gus, would take a turn sitting with the dead.

“I made fresh coffee.” Ana placed the cup on a table beside him. He took her hand and pulled her down onto his lap.

“It’s been a long day,” he said tiredly.

“You’re worn out.” Ana wrapped her arms about his neck and rested her cheek against his.