by Danni Roan
“Pa don’t care,” the boy said standing in his now dust covered clothes.
“Well he should,” the old woman said. “Now you mind your manners, or I’ll take a walking stick to you.”
Both boys stuck their tongues out at the old woman then dashed away out into the street to play.
“I am sorry about that,” Mrs. Worthington said to Henry. “I know as the father of the bride you must be disgusted.”
Henry tried to wipe the grin off of his face but failed miserably. “Should I be?” he asked genuinely unsure of what his reaction was supposed to be. “I’ve never spent much time with boys this age you see,” he added bouncing the littlest one on his leg. “Do they do these things often?”
“Men!” Mrs. Worthington growled throwing her hands in the air in surrender. “I can see you’ll be no help to that poor girl at all.” She said storming off to join a gaggle of other women by the punch bowl.
Henry looked down at the little boy on his knee. The lad had dark hair and pale blue eyes but he grinned up at him cheerfully. “I know a story about another boy named Tim,” Henry said. “When you get a bit older I’ll have to read it to you. He was just a tiny boy as well.” The boy blinked up at him with innocent eyes then snuggled in close resting his head on Henry’s heart.
Chapter 12
The wagon ride to her new home was strangely quiet, and Helena felt the butterflies returning to the pit of her stomach as she sat in the middle of the bench seat between Augusta and her father.
The three boys, exhausted by their long day had fallen asleep in the back of the wagon amidst a tangle of old blankets, hay and her trunks.
In the distance, Helena could see a house come into view. The two story home was clad in white clapboard siding with a wide porch at the front and on one side. “Is that your house?” she asked her eyes wide.
“Yes,” Agi replied. “Why is something wrong with it?”
Helena looked over at her husband of a few hours and frowned. “No, it looks lovely,” she admitted. “I know you said you had a good house, but I didn’t expect this.”
Agi shrugged. “I own the sawmill in town. People expect me to showcase some of what we make there. I have clapboard, shakes, styled shutters, and polished wood on the inside.”
“I see,” Helena said, still mesmerized by the lovely home as they drew closer.
“If you need anything once you get settled, you just tell me,” Agi said. “I can get you about anything you need from town.”
Helena nodded certain that if the man could have such a lovely house that he could provide for her needs. Even old Beans had told her she wouldn’t want for creature comforts at the Pennington home, and he was right.
Pulling the wagon to a stop, Agi climbed out and reached for Helena, his hands finding her waist as he easily lifted her down.
On the other side of the wagon his new father-in-law carefully climbed down using the running board then walked to the back of the wagon lifting out Agi’s youngest son, Tim.
“You two get the others,” Henry said. “I’m going to put this one down then find a bed and sleep for a week.”
Agi smiled. The old man was a trooper, he only hoped he would be up to dealing with life with three rambunctious boys. “You go on in,” he said feeling a tinge of guilt for not warning the young woman he had just wed what she was in for. On the other hand, he couldn’t have risked scaring her away. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Helena stopped by the wagon reaching in and pulling a sleepy Albert from the back. “Just show me where,” she said hefting the boy and moving to the stairs, where her father stood waiting.
A moment later Agi opened the door carrying Ryan up the stairs to his room. Behind him the gasp from the young woman made him flinch. The sound of her slippered feet on the stairs and the shuffle of her father told him they had followed, and he made his way toward the room where the two older boys slept.
“Ryan and Albert are here,” he said. “Mr. Hebert if you’d put Tim in there,” he nodded to a door on the other side of the hall.
Several seconds of silence echoed through the house as Agi tucked Ryan into his bed and Helena settled Albert, softly stroking the boy’s hair from his face as she finished.
“I’m sorry about the house,” Agi apologized as he followed his new wife out into the hall and closed the door. “I’m afraid I don’t have a housekeeper at the moment.”
Helena closed her eyes then slowly opened them hoping beyond hope that what she had seen on the short walk into the house would magically disappear.
Through the darkness of her closed lids she felt Augusta slip past her mumbling about getting her things and the long day.
As her eyes fluttered open in the dimly lit hall Helena gazed around her at what could only be considered utter chaos. A narrow path led along the hall of once polished wood flooring, breaking the detritus only at the entrance of each door.
“Daughter?” her father’s voice was calm and full of cheery hope as always. “Are you well?”
“I’ll be fine,” Helena said turning a smiling face at her father.
“It’s a little rough isn’t it?” Henry said looking around at the piles of toys, buckets, papers, and rocks that lined the hallway.
“I’m sure it will all work out,” Helena said wondering what the rest of the house looked like. Her keen nose already picked up the distinct smell of sour washing, stale food, and something else she couldn’t quite place.
Helena turned again at her father’s soft chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll have this place right as rain in no time,” he said patting her shoulder absently as he peeked in two more rooms along the hall. “I think I’ll find a place to sleep now.”
Helena listened to her father’s familiar heavy footsteps as he made his way to a room at the end of the hall and whispered a prayer for strength. When Mr. Pennington said he was in need of someone to put his home in order, he may have understated the facts a bit.
“Miss Hebert,” Augusta’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs, drawing her forward as she lifted her skirt over something decidedly unpleasant on the floor.
As Helena descended the stairs she could see Mr. Pennington look up under veiled lashes. “I suppose I should have told you the house was in a bit of a mess,” he said. “It’s hard to get help around here, and with my work schedule, we barely keep up with remembering to eat.”
Helena didn’t speak. She could see the hint of guilt in the man’s eyes, but in the end, she had been as desperate for a new home as he had been for help with his home and boys.
“I brought your trunk in,” Agi said wondering when the woman would explode about the condition of the house. He knew he should have told her, but he simply couldn’t risk it. Once she got the boys used to having her around, he would hire one of the women from town to come help out. “I’m sure you’re tired,” he continued. “If you’ll follow me we’ll get you settled.”
Helena’s other eyebrow shot up at the man’s words. Is that what he was calling their wedding night? Her stomach fluttered again at thoughts of what the word, wife, meant in its entirety. Stiffening her spine, she followed Augusta to a room on the far end of the house past a kitchen that looked more like the aftermath of an explosion than a place to cook.
As they walked to a door at the far end of the kitchen, Augusta hesitated, his hand on the knob then shoved the door open with a screech of protesting hinges.
The room beyond the door was in stark contrast to the rest of the house. Other than dust, and some faded fabrics it was as neat as a pin. A large sleigh bed covered in a warm yellow and white pinwheel quilt looked inviting, and a bureau, wash stand, and wardrobe in matching cherry hues were perfectly spaced for ease of use.
Helena’s nose tickled at the heavy layer of dust in the room and she sneezed delicately as Augusta placed her bag on the bed.
“I’m sure you’re exhausted,” he said his blue eyes meeting hers for the first time in long minutes. �
�Goodnight,” he added abruptly then turned on his heel and walked back out the door.
Agi closed the door pressing it shut and leaning his back against the solid wood. He hadn’t been in that room in three years, and the very sameness of it washed over him in an almost painful wave.
He and his wife had added the room as their own retreat as Ryan and Albert had grown, becoming more independent. Now it was only a sad reminder of happier days. Agi was sure that Miss Hebert would be comfortable there. At least he knew his boys would never disturb that room.
Helena stood gaping at the closed door that her new husband had escaped through, sorrow, anger, and hurt all warring in her breast.
Was she so repulsive that he couldn’t take her for his wife? Was she to live as housekeeper and nursemaid but not wife? Her mind roiled with doubt, as her eyes studied the door, until something tugged at her heart pulling her from the brink of temper.
Helena knew that Mr. Pennington had been widowed for nearly four years, was he still grieving his lost wife? Letting her disappointment roll from her shoulders with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, she moved to her bag rummaging until she found the soft nightgown she had planned to wear to bed.
Tomorrow would be the start of a new life, and if the condition of the house was any indication, she would need her sleep. There was a great deal to be done in the Pennington home, and perhaps she needed to add ‘mend a hurting heart’, to the list.
Chapter 13
The sound of banging pots and pans had Helena sitting bolt upright in bed as a wan sun forced its way through faded curtains. Placing a hand over her pounding heart, the young woman gazed around her trying to gain her bearings as the rhythm of the drumming outside her door matched that of her heart.
Rising, Helena grabbed her linen wrap from the hat tree near the bed, wound it around her and jerked open the door.
“She’s up, she’s up!” Albert shouted snatching the wooden spoons from Tim’s hands and making the younger boy scream.
“Where’s our breakfast?” Ryan called, climbing down from the counter top with a packet of crackers in his hand.
“Excuse me?” Helena asked.
“Pa said you’d feed us,” Ryan said jumping down and scattering cracker crumbs on the floor. His feet squelched in something sticky as he walked and Helena barely controlled her gagging.
“First,” Helena said, her mind working furiously as she thought of anything but what the sink looked like. “I will not cook anything for you with this kitchen in its current state.”
“Told ya,” Albert said. “She ain’t no better than the other ones.”
Helena turned dark eyes on the younger boy, who shoved what looked like a half a slice of bread into his mouth chewing loudly.
“You always think you know everything Al,” Ryan said walking over and cuffing his brother on the back of the head.
“Do not!” Albert yelled launching himself at his brother and dragging him to the floor with a heavy thud.
“Boys!” Helena cried hurrying to pull them apart. “Stop it! Stop it right now!” But her words went unheeded as Ryan pinned his brother to the floor rubbing his knuckles relentlessly in Albert’s hair.
“Stop!” Helena yelled again, but neither boy responded as Albert began to squeal in pain.
Looking around the kitchen Helena sought anything that might aid her in stopping the brawl. Hurrying to the counter she grabbed a cup filling it with the gray green dish water from the pan and pouring it over both boys who howled and spluttered to a stop.
“What’d you do that for?” Ryan said jumping to his feet and glaring at her.
“I was worried you boys might get over heated,” Helena said innocently. “I wouldn’t want your father to come in and find that you had suffered a fit due to heat stress.”
Ryan looked at Albert who looked right back at him. “Huh?” they both said.
“I would suggest you go and get cleaned up before you catch a chill,” Helena finished. “I’m sure your father won’t want to see you in this state.”
“Pa’s already at the Mill,” Albert said shaking the water from his hair. “He don’t care. He said you’d feed us and see to whatever we needed now that you’re our Ma.”
Helena chewed her lip for one, two, three seconds. “I see,” she finally said shoving the hurt, anger, and confusion deep down inside as she sifted through her mind for some way to get the boys to listen.
“You boys have a very fine house here,” she said changing subjects as Timmy walked over to stand by Albert. “I suppose your friends enjoy coming over.”
“No one comes out here no more,” Ryan said. “It’s just us and Pa.”
“I see,” Helena mused. “I don’t suppose you like pancakes do you?” she continued. “I do like to make pancakes with plenty of syrup or jam. Do you like bacon or sausage with your pancakes?” she continued.
“Bacon!” Ryan called.
“Sausage!” Albert sputtered.
“Cake,” Tim added.
“I do wish I could make pancakes,” Helena said looking around the kitchen and tapping her lip with a finger. “Of course I don’t know where anything is, I can’t even find the stove through the mess, and of course, I’d have to be able to walk across the floor without becoming glued fast.”
“Why?” Timothy asked, making Helena smile.
“I can move some of the pans if that’ll help,” Ryan said. “How long does it take to make pancakes anyway?” he added gazing at the now smashed packet of crackers he’d been eating earlier.
“I can probably have them ready as soon as the kitchen is clean,” Helena said. “I will need a few things first.”
“Like what?” Albert asked thinking of hot food.
“First the wash tub I think,” Helena said. “Then a few buckets of hot water and a good bar of soap.”
“I’ll get buckets,” Albert said racing off while Ryan studied the new woman in his life with serious eyes.
“Why do you need a wash tub?” he finally asked. “We had a bath yesterday.”
Helena looked at the boy’s dirty shirt, and smeared face and only shrugged. “I need somewhere to move all of the dirty dishes to, or it will be hours before I can cook anything.”
“I’m hungry,” Timmy whined.
“I’ll get the tub,” Ryan said reluctantly. “Go find the soap Tim,” he added pushing his little brother toward the sink.
Helena grinned then shuddered as she gazed into the sink once more. The copper lining of the large depression was green with dirt and the dishes were so covered in dried food she wanted nothing more than to run outside and heave.
While the youngest rummaged around in the storage space under the sink, Helena hurried to her room, dragged out her oldest most threadbare dress and heaviest apron and prepared to face the day.
The sound of clattering tin buckets and arguing voices brought her back into the kitchen where the three boys stood next to their personal prizes.
“Soap!” Tim said handing her a slimy gray lump.
“Thank you,” Helena said accepting the item with a forced smile. She had never been so thankful that soap was self cleaning in her life. “How hungry are you?” she asked placing the soap on an empty spot of counter? “I will take at least forty minutes or more to get this mess cleared off. Of course, if you boys could load the dirty dishes into the wash tub, that would probably mean I could cook sooner.”
Ryan looked at Albert. “All right,” he agreed, “just this once.”
Helena turned her back on the boys a smile tugging at her lips when they began noisily moving dishes from the filthy sink to the large galvanized tub. Schooling her face to stillness, she grasped a bucket and peered out the window looking for the pump.
“We got a pump on the sink,” Albert said.
“Yes, but if I wait for the sink to be clean that will mean it takes me longer to cook,” Helena said still peering out the window.
“Al, you finish this and I’ll fetch water,” Ryan
said grabbing a bucket.
“Me too,” Tim cried grabbing a pale.
A few minutes later, the sink was empty and Ryan walked back into the house with two full buckets of water.
Helena had busied herself lighting the stove while the boys worked and soon had the buckets sitting on the stove to heat.
“I’ll just clean the sink so I can have a pan ready,” she said scraping the iron skillet with a metal spatula. “I wonder where your father keeps the flour?” she continued.
“I’ll get it,” Albert said hurrying into a small room off of the kitchen. Helena could hear him working the sieve and hoped the flour wasn’t too old.
