Cinda's Surprise Page 8

She got up and walked over to the mirror and said to her reflection, “You got yourself into quite a pickle, Cinda Harrison. What are you going to do about it?” She stared at herself for a minute mulling over the question. “I guess I go downstairs and get that kitchen cleaned up, then pretend to cook supper.”

  She put on an old calico dress she rarely wore but thought it would be good for the job ahead. She dug through her travel bag and clutched the cookbook Allison gave her. “Thank you, Allison,” she whispered and trudged down the stairs.

  Cinda surveyed the kitchen, trying to decide where to begin. The counter and the dishes in the sink—that needed to be done first. She marched over and removed a stack of dirty metal plates from the sink. When she turned to put them on the worktable with the other dishes, an old man stood between her and the table. Instinctively, she screamed. Plates clattered to the floor as she braced herself against the counter.

  “A rose, a rose,” he began but stopped when she screamed.

  Lucas was the first to race into the kitchen. He scanned the room and came over to her. “It’s okay. It’s only—”

  The others quickly piled into the kitchen. “What’s the matter?” Trevor asked.

  “Dewight scared Cinda,” Lucas explained.

  “Why’s she afraid of Dewight? He wouldn’t hurt no one,” Martha mocked.

  Cinda stepped away from Lucas. “If someone,” she shot Lucas a wicked glare, “had bothered to tell me about your grandfather, I wouldn’t have been so terrified when he ap-peared out of nowhere.”

  “He’s not our grandpa,” Travis said. “Lucas found him two winters ago caring for a hog of ours that got out and wandered away. We don’t even know if Dewight’s his real name.”

  “He’s really harmless. He’ll do pretty much anything you ask him,” Lucas explained.

  Cinda settled her hands firmly on her hips and turned her glare on Lucas. He shrank back from her slightly. “Is there anyone else? Any more brothers or sisters lurking around the corner? Any other relatives or non-relatives,” she gave a quick glance at Dewight, “that are going to pop up out of nowhere? Anyone at all that I haven’t met yet? Anyone?”

  “No, this is all of us,” Lucas said sheepishly.

  “Then unless you want to be put to work,” she said to the whole group, “get out of the kitchen.” She pointed to the open door.

  Martha, Trevor, and Travis practically fell over each other to get out. Lucas scooped up Dani and Davey and exited without another word.

  Dewight stood rooted in the place he had been standing. He stared at her, cocking his head to one side. She supposed he was waiting for something, so she dropped her hands from her hips and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Dewight.”

  He said nothing. He just stood silent, staring at her.

  What was he waiting for? His constant gaze made her nervous. She replaced her hands on her hips. If he really wanted to stay, she would put him to work. “Fine, Dewight. I need some wood to start a fire in that stove,” Cinda pointed to the stove without looking at it. “Could you get some for me?”

  He didn’t move or speak.

  Cinda threw up her hands in resignation. She would just clean around him. She knelt down to collect the plates that had crashed to the floor. When she stood again, Dewight was gone. Cinda shrugged her shoulders. She piled the plates and other dishes from the sink on the table. Dewight came back in with an armful of wood and built a fire in the stove while Cinda cleaned the kitchen. He prattled on about a rose dying in the desert or some such nonsense.

  It took Cinda two hours to get the kitchen clean enough to attempt cooking. She found the root cellar and took stock of its contents. With supplies in the kitchen and root cellar in mind, Cinda sat at the kitchen table and began to read her recipe book.

  ❧

  Daniella and Daphne came skipping in the kitchen and took a big whiff.

  “Mmm. Smells good,” one of them said.

  “Mmm. Smells good, too,” the other echoed.

  Cinda eyed the pair suspiciously. The brothers had probably sent these two in to find out when supper would be ready. Cowards. She bent down and said, “Supper’s just about ready. Can you two tell everyone to wash up and get to the table?” She heard immediate scrambling outside the kitchen door, and the girls scampered out to wash up at the outside pump.

  One by one they clambered to the table and sat, waiting. Lucas came in last and sat down at the head of the table with Trevor and Travis on either side. Cinda placed a pot of slightly burned succotash on the table with the not-quite-done boiled potatoes and a mound of overdone biscuits. She sat at the other end of the table with Daniella and Daphne on either side. Martha and Dewight sat on the middle of the benches across from each other. Although their faces and hands were clean, there was a perimeter of dirt around each of their faces where the water hadn’t quite reached. Lucas was the only one without any dirt showing. They all bowed their heads while Lucas said grace.

  Cinda watched while the food made its way around the table. She took very little. Her appetite had left her long ago. She held her breath as Trevor and Travis shoveled in their first mouthful. They looked across at each other, then glanced at Lucas who ate heartily, ignoring them. Cinda could tell it wasn’t quite what they expected. She almost felt sorry for them as they ate in silence. The only ones she could have pity on were the innocent five year olds. They so desperately needed a woman’s care.

  ❧

  When the meal was over, his beautiful bride stood to clear the table. Oh, no. That won’t do. Lucas took the dishes from her hands and put them back on the table. He reminded his brothers and sister how they used to do the supper dishes while their parents had taken a walk around the farm after supper. He was reinstituting that tradition. He guided Cinda outside where they walked in silence.

  What could he say to her after all the surprises? She had taken it well, considering she hadn’t left. . .yet.

  They stopped by the corral. Lucas leaned against the fence. “Supper was good.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she swung her gaze to him. “It was awful. I can’t cook, if you didn’t notice.”

  “That’s okay. You’ll learn.” He kicked at the ground. It hadn’t been that bad. He had eaten a lot worse.

  “In the meantime, everyone will starve.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that why I’m here, to cook and clean for the masses?” She swept her hand about to encompass the whole farm.

  He shook his downcast head. He could see how she could think that.

  “If you don’t care that I take perfectly good food and turn it into slop not fit for the pigs, then why am I here?” Frustration and impatience coated her words.

  “It wasn’t that bad.” He took a deep breath. “I was just nineteen when my folks passed on.” At times like these, the ache in his heart was fresh and painful. “I had to look after a farm and four younger brothers and sisters. Lynnette was barely fifteen. The twins were eleven, and Marty was only four.”

  Cinda couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lucas saddled with the enormous responsibility at a young age.

  He took another deep breath and continued, “The next year Lynnette married a man on a wagon train heading for Seattle. Trevor and Travis had to quit school to help out here. I didn’t know how to raise a little girl, so I raised Marty like a boy, as you can see.” All he could do was shrug in excuse for his actions.

  He had been so caught up in running the farm, he hadn’t noticed when Marty had grown up. He turned around one day and found his baby sister was a boy. He couldn’t tell her from his brothers. The irreparable damage was done.

  Lucas stared out over the corral. “About nine months ago, Lynnette came home to die. I looked at her girls and saw Marty all over again. Lynnette was feminine and ladylike, like you. I couldn’t do to Lynnette’s girls what I did to Marty. I had a choice this time. I could make it different, better.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me about everyone and everything?”

  �
�Would you have come if I had?”

  Cinda looked to the ground, giving his question serious consideration. He waited.

  “No.”

  He appreciated her not giving a quick, easy lie to placate him. “They need a mother. I know you’ll be a great mother.” He wanted to convince her it was going to be all right.

  He was uncomfortable with her silence. Should he say more? Had he said too much? “You can go ahead on in. I’m going to put the animals to bed.”

  Cinda nodded but remained silent as she turned toward the house.

  He wanted to make everything right for her, make it all perfect. But what in life was? “Should I be sleepin’ in the barn with Dewight tonight?” Lucas called after her tentatively.

  Cinda stopped but didn’t turn around. After a moment she shook her head and continued to the house.

  ❧

  Though Cinda felt sorry for the nineteen-year-old boy who had a great burden placed on his young shoulders, she couldn’t help but be angry with the man who had thrown his burdens upon her. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about the supper dishes.

  When she entered the sitting room, the conversation ceased. Travis, Trevor, and Martha were busy playing with the little girls. And who knew where Dewight was? He seemed to appear and disappear in a snap.

  Cinda looked at the cluttered table. They hadn’t even moved one dish. She could tell they were waiting to see what she would do. Cinda gathered up the dishes and took them to the kitchen. She would let Lucas deal with them when he came in and found her doing what they had been told to do. They were his family.

  Lucas came in just after she had finished and was taking the little twins up to bed. He gave an approving nod at the clean kitchen. He never knew. Cinda dressed the still dirty girls in their too-small night shirts and tucked them in bed. Tomorrow they would get baths and something different to wear.

  Although Lucas slept soundly, sleep eluded Cinda. She lay awake, nervous about having to fix a proper breakfast for everyone when they rose. She prayed but couldn’t seem to give up her anxiety. She didn’t even know what to make, so she got up and took turns reading her cookbook and the Psalms by candlelight until dawn. The struggles and praises of King David always comforted her.

  twelve

  Lucas leaned on the doorjamb and watched Cinda rush about the kitchen. He admired her diligence. She was trying so hard to please everyone, and it was important to her that she did. As the sun peeked over the horizon, it streamed in the kit-chen. Her straight auburn hair blanketed her back down to her waist. Whenever her hair fell forward, she pushed it back over her shoulder. When she crossed the stream of sunlight, it set her hair ablaze. Lucas couldn’t help but stare.

  “Oh.” Cinda startled when she saw Lucas grinning in the doorway. “Is everyone getting up already? I’m not ready yet. I don’t have anything cooked.”

  He felt like a schoolboy caught gawking at the saloon gals. His mother had given him a month of extra chores the one time that had happened. She said if he didn’t have enough to keep busy, she would see to it he didn’t have time to think about those strumpets.

  “Don’t worry about it. There are morning chores that need to be done before breakfast.” He wanted to soothe her worries. “The cow needs to be milked, the chickens fed, and the eggs gathered—” He was going continue, but Cinda jumped in.

  “I already collected the eggs.” She nervously pointed to a bowl of eggs. “I didn’t know I was supposed to feed them. I’ll do that later and remember it tomorrow. I don’t know how to milk a cow, but if you show me I—”

  Lucas shook his head, stopping her in mid-sentence as he stepped up close to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her flitting about. “You don’t have to do everything. Marty takes care of the chickens and eggs, and I’ll continue to milk the cow. Don’t worry so much.”

  “But I don’t know anything about farms. There is so much to learn.” She rubbed her scratched and pecked hands.

  Lucas took her hands in his and caressed the red marks. “My brothers, Marty, and I will run the farm. You just have to take care of Dani and Davey. Everything else will work itself out.”

  Cinda wasn’t as confident as her husband. There was so much she didn’t know. He said she didn’t have to do much, but what did he really expect?

  She noticed him staring at her disorderly hair. She pulled her hands from his and scooped up her wayward mane. Pulling it over one shoulder, she began twisting it. Her hair was straight as a board and difficult to do anything with—a constant burden to her. “I’m sorry it’s a mess. I haven’t done a thing with it today. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  He took the bundle from her grasp and rubbed it between his fingers. “It shines like fire in the morning sun.” He studied each feature of her face and settled his gaze on her mouth. As he leaned closer, Daniella and Daphne came bounding into the kitchen. Lucas took a deep breath. “I had better go milk that cow.”

  ❧

  Cinda spent that first morning after breakfast trying to figure out how to tell the little redheads apart. She sat down with them and studied their giggling faces. She discovered that Daniella had a distinct freckle, larger than the others, slightly off center on the bridge of her nose. Daphne had a similar freckle high on her left cheek under her eye. Now, as long as they were facing her, she could tell them apart.

  Later in the afternoon, Cinda made Daniella and Daphne lie down to rest, and she ignored the filthy house while she explored her mother’s treasures. She pulled out a worn wedding-ring quilt that had graced her parents’ bed. She spread it across her own bed. Beneath it in the trunk was a new wedding-ring quilt top her mother had been piecing together before she died. Cinda caressed the new quilt as memories of helping her mother flooded back. She pushed away tears and vowed to finish it.

  Among the items below the two quilts were her mother’s Bible, a handful of other special books, a rag doll, and wrapped in a blue cloth were the pieces to her mother’s once beautiful ceramic jewel box. It was smashed into a million teeny, tiny pieces, no doubt broken when the stage overturned. Cinda’s heart was crushed as well. The box had been a wedding present from her father. He promised her mother on their wedding day that he would fill it with jewels for her, and he had, but they had all been sold at auction to pay the debts. Cinda saw a glimmer of gold and carefully flicked through the shards and rescued her mother’s wedding ring.

  “Don’t cry.”

  Cinda looked toward the doorway as Daphne and Daniella rushed in the room.

  “She hurted herself,” Daphne said on the verge of tears.

  “No, no. I’m not hurt,” Cinda said, trying to console the pair. “I’m just sad. This box belonged to my mother. She died when I was young, and I miss her.” Remembering the girls’ loss as well, she added, “Do you have anything of your mother’s?”

  Both girls scrunched up their face as if thinking. “I got her eyes and Dani got her nose.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout your box,” Daniella said, patting Cinda on the shoulder. “Uncle Lucas can fix it. He can fix anything.”

  “He fixed the pitchfork Aunt Marty busted, and he made a cradle for our dolls,” Daphne said.

  “And he fixed the corral so the horses couldn’t get loose no more,” Daniella added.

  Cinda smiled. Neither one wanted to be left out when there was a story to tell. “I think this is beyond repair, even for your uncle Lucas.”

  Daniella looked at her real serious. “What does ‘yond pair’ mean?”

  “Be–yond re–pair,” Cinda said slowly so they could hear each syllable, “means it can’t be fixed.”

  “Uncle Trevor and Uncle Travis say that we are quite a pair,” Daphne said with big eyes.

  Cinda smiled.

  Yes, she had to agree. They were quite a pair and had a way of jumping straight into your heart.

  She held her arms open and they plunged into her arms, enjoying a group hug.

  Cinda threw out the pi
eces of the destroyed box so the girls wouldn’t get hurt when curiosity got the better of them.

  The rest of the week, she spent her mornings cleaning up the twins and making them dresses from one of her old calico dresses. She spent the evenings, after her quiet walks with Lucas, doing the dishes.

  She would heat bath water during breakfast and bathe Daniella and Daphne right after they ate. Within two hours they were filthy again, even when they remained in the house. The inside of the house was as dirty as the outside.

  Lucas, Trevor, Travis, and Martha spent long hours preparing and planting the fields. Dewight mulled around the house and farmyard doing odd little chores and talking to himself. When Cinda was within earshot of him none of his words made sense. He would go on about a rose wilting, an apple tree blooming, and fighting some war. Those were only the ones she understood.

  One morning she took the bathtub out behind the house and filled it with warm water. Dewight happily helped her until she informed him it was for him to bathe in. Cinda didn’t know when he had bathed last, if ever. Dewight made himself suddenly scarce. Cinda hoped she hadn’t scared him. But when it was time for supper, Dewight was seated at the table as usual, bathed and wearing clean clothes, though they were wrinkled.

  Everyone looked at him oddly. Cinda just smiled.

  ❧

  One evening on their nightly walk, Cinda looked out at the budding fields. “Lucas?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s out there?”

  “What?”

  “What do you grow? Everyone else has cattle around here. Why don’t you?”

  “We grow alfalfa.” He looked at her. “And we grow alfalfa because everyone else around here has cattle. Cattle eat alfalfa.”

  Cinda smiled to herself. She noticed the way he stressed we. He wanted her to know what was his was hers, that she belonged here. She just didn’t feel like the farm was hers. She felt like she was visiting on some terrible vacation. She didn’t feel like she belonged, on the farm or with his family.