by S. C. Wilson
Jesse devoured the food. After she finished she went to the sink to wash her plate, only to have Ulayla take it from her.
“Now ya ain’t washin’ that,” she said. “That’s what I does.”
Jesse didn’t argue, smiling slightly at the authority of the statement. “Thank you…I suppose I should get next door.”
“They don’t be poundin’ over theres this early.”
“I know, but I want to be there before anyone shows up.”
Ulayla tossed a towel over her shoulder. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t want anyone to know I’m stayin’ here or that I know Sam Bowman.” Jesse could tell by Ulayla’s expression she wasn’t following her logic. “It’s just…well, I don’t want to be treated differently. That’s all. Thank you again for the food. It really was good.”
“You’s welcome,” Ulayla said. “Sees ya at supper.”
On the afternoon of September 29th, Jesse heard Mr. Tidwell having a disagreement with the man who had been hired to complete the staircase. She paused cutting, leaving the teeth of her handsaw lodged in a board, as she listened to the argument escalate into an angry shouting match. Mr. Tidwell was now irate. His face turned an angry shade of red, reminding her of Ulayla’s beet and sweet onion soup.
“We already agreed on a price when I hired you, dammit. I won’t pay you one red cent more!” Mr. Tidwell shouted, spit flying. He jabbed his chubby finger twice into the man’s chest to emphasize his point.
The man took a step back and pulled out his handkerchief. “Well, then,” he said, wiping spittle from his face, “looks like my work here is done. Good luck meeting your deadline.” He left Mr. Tidwell with a smirk before turning and walking out the front door, slamming it behind him on his way out.
Jesse released her grip on the handsaw and cautiously approached her boss. “Uh…Mr. Tidwell, is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, dammit! You can get back to cutting those boards like I hired you to do or you can leave too!”
She swallowed her nerves. “Uh…I can finish the staircase—if you’d like.”
“For Christ’s sake! I can’t have some greenhorn do—” He stopped talking and both their heads turned when the front door opened. His jaw clenched at the unwelcome visitor.
Abby knew Jesse didn’t want her coming to the work site, but she was too excited to wait. She had to share the news. “Mr. and Mrs. Anderson just dropped off the key to the house,” Abby said to her. “Cuffy is going to help me take some of our things over while you’re working.”
Mr. Tidwell had reached his boiling point. However, he was still a gentleman in the company of a lady, so he did his best to remain calm. “Ma’am, you can’t be here. We have work to do. I don’t pay my employees to deal with personal matters while they’re on the job.”
Andrew stepped inside and asked, “Is there a problem?”
Mr. Tidwell answered, “No. Just a small hiccup, that’s all.”
Andrew turned to Jesse and Abby. “I got a wire from Mr. Bowman. He hopes you two are enjoying the accommodations next door.”
Mr. Tidwell’s head turned in a snap. “You know Mr. Bowman?” he asked.
Jesse stayed silent. She had worked hard to keep her relationship with the Bowmans a secret for weeks, even being extra cautious to ensure no one saw her coming or going from the house next door.
Andrew answered for her. “Actually, Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis are good friends with Mr. Bowman.”
Jesse was mortified. Her secret was out. She looked at Abby. “I need to get back to work. I’ll see you this evening.” She promptly returned to cutting the stack of boards waiting on her.
Once Abby and Andrew had gone and Mr. Tidwell’s blood pressure returned to normal, he tentatively approached Jesse. “I’m sorry about what happened in there. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.” He chewed his bottom lip before continuing to speak. “So,” he continued, “you really think you can finish that staircase?”
She noticed the prominent vein pulsing on his forehead earlier had receded. “Yes, sir,” she said in a confident tone.
“Well, all right then. Why don’t you get started on that? I can hire someone else to cut boards.”
“Mr. Tidwell. I know someone who’s lookin’ for work. My brother, Toby.”
The deadline for the first phase of the Bowman project was fast approaching. He was too pressed for time to be picky.
“Tell him to be here first thing in the morning,” he said as he started to walk away. He paused mid stride and turned back around. “I hope he’s not like you and knows to show up with his own tools.”
“I’ll make sure of it. Thank you.”
Mr. Tidwell left her and went up the stairs. Jesse raced over to the carriage house, eager to begin work on the staircase. Already, she had something in mind, and couldn’t wait to get her hands on some of those tools and start bringing it to fruition.
As soon as it was quitting time Jesse hurried inside the house. She found her family already seated in the dining room.
“Ain’t gonna be same ‘round here,” Ulayla said, setting a tray of biscuits on the table.
Though she had been put off by Jesse’s tenacity only a few weeks before, Ulayla now harbored an unexpected sadness. She had enjoyed the time she spent with all of them—none of it more than the mornings she spent with Jesse. Already she dreaded their departure. The kitchen would never sound the same as it did when it was filled with Jesse’s voice, reading off the news of the day.
Ulayla prepared a feast for their last meal. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a variety of roasted vegetables filled their plates. As if those things weren’t enough, she baked a massive, three-layered chocolate cake for dessert.
As soon as Jesse finished eating, she took her plate to the kitchen. Ulayla took it from her, shaking her head in mock frustration. Jesse smiled knowingly. “I’m sure gonna miss seeing you in the mornings. Won’t be the same,” she said. “Oh, and your French toast.”
“Now don’t ya be gettin’ all sappy on me,” Ulayla said, setting the dish next to the sink.
“You know, I’ll still be working next door. Maybe I can swing by and check on you from time to time.”
“Yes suh. That be fine.”
“All right then. Well…we’d best be on our way. Thank you again for everything.”
Ulayla took two steps, closing the distance between them. “You’s welcome, Jesse,” she said, being careful to keep her voice low so no one else could hear.
It was the first time she had referred to her by her given name. Jesse smiled at her warmly knowing she had finally managed to earn the woman’s trust. She wanted to hug her, but she knew that would be pushing the boundaries. Instead, she held up her hand and gave a quick wave before she left the kitchen.
Jesse and Toby led Buck and Titan out of the carriage house and joined everyone by the waiting carriage out on the street. Andrew said, “If you ever need anything, just let me know.” He shook Jesse’s hand.
“We will,” she said. “And thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
Andrew helped Abby and Aponi board, along with the twins, and latched the door behind them. He tapped the carriage letting Cuffy know it was time to go.
“Hup!” Cuffy called out as he snapped the reins.
After getting Buck and Titan settled into stalls in the small barn behind the house on Taylor Street, Jesse and Toby went inside their new home. Jesse was stunned to see many of the Andersons’ furnishings had been left behind. She looked at Abby for an explanation.
“Surprise,” Abby said, eyes twinkling.
“I don’t understand.”
“They didn’t want to haul all of this across the country. So, they made us a great deal. I spent most of our savings, but I couldn’t refuse. They even sold us their old wagon for next to nothing.”
Jesse had seen the dilapidated wagon out behind the barn the day Mr. Anderson gave her the tour. Even though it ne
eded fixing, she was thrilled to have it. She glanced at the built-in shelving next to the fireplace. Filled with books the last time she had visited, it was nearly empty now, save for one book and a lopsided figurine of a deer propped up by Frieda’s soapstone pipe. It was the first carving Jesse had made for Frieda—one of the few survivors of a vanishing collection she’d left behind on top of Mount Perish.
“It wouldn’t have felt like home without that deer,” Abby said.
Jesse shook her head. “I could have lived the rest of my life without seeing that ugly thing again.” In all honesty, she couldn’t help but feel touched Abby had thought to take the sentimental carving when they left the mountain.
“It may not mean much to you, but it sure does to me. One day, I’m sure the twins will cherish it as much as I do. It’s a family heirloom.”
Jesse reached for the lone book. The title A CHRISTAS CAROL BY CHARLES DICKENS was scribed on the front. Surrounding the words were gold wreaths of holly. She opened the cover. A faint smell of vanilla and almonds greeted her as she read the words written on the light-green endpaper.
Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis
Welcome home,
The Andersons
September 29th, 1865
Jesse felt Jim tugging on the hem of her pant leg. She closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. After picking her son up off of the floor, she followed behind as everyone went up the stairs to their bedrooms. With the twins crawling around on the floor, Abby began putting her and Jesse’s clothes away in the dresser.
Jesse stepped out into the hall. In the bedroom at the end of the corridor she caught Toby and Aponi in a warm embrace. They seemed happy with the new accommodations. She peeked into the room across the hall with its light blue walls. Abby, with help from Cuffy, had both cribs set up. Already the new place was starting to feel like home.
Jesse returned to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She stepped over the twins to get to Abby. After taking some clothing from her, she tossed it in the open drawer and took her by the hands. “Come here,” she said, leading her toward the bed. They stretched out together. “Hey, this is comfortable. Sure beats the one at the cabin,” Jesse said, wriggling on the soft mattress.
Abby rolled on her side and leaned up on an elbow to face her. “Can you believe we finally have a space all to ourselves?”
No sooner than the words left her mouth Gwen cried out.
“Well, almost,” Jesse said, chuckling as she got up to get her daughter.
Abby got up and stood next to the bed. “Hey, why don’t you go put them down for the night?”
Holding Gwen with one arm, Jesse bent down and scooped Jim up with the other.
Abby continued, “And don’t take too long.” Her eyes smoldered with intensity as she unfastened the top button on her dress. She glided closer, leaned up, and put her mouth next to Jesse’s ear. “I have something planned for us tonight.” She smiled when she heard Jesse’s sharp intake of breath.
In less than ten minutes she had the twins down and was back in the bedroom, stumbling across the floor as she raced to get out of her clothes.
Abby pulled back the covers on the bed, giving Jesse a glimpse of her bare skin. “Get in here,” she said, biting on her bottom lip as she locked eyes with her.
Jesse’s pulse quickened as she gazed over Abby’s ready and waiting form. She didn’t have to be asked twice.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jesse and Toby entered the smoke-filled kitchen to find Abby cursing over the wood-burning stove, gray smoke rising from the large cast-iron skillet as she lifted it away from the heat. Abby waved her hand in front of her face. “I thought I’d get up and fix you two breakfast,” she said, coughing. “Found six eggs in the hen house this morning. It sure is nice to have chickens, isn’t it?”
Jesse nodded and opened the window, trying to get the smoke to dissipate. It had been years since she had been around chickens. She thought back on her childhood and recalled the mean black rooster with the red comb and tail that hated people. Her sister, Jamie, had worn the proof. The mean cock left a scar on the back of her right calf where he came at her one day for no reason at all other than she had been in his vicinity. It felt like a lifetime since she’d thought about that, happening so long ago it was like it was someone else’s memory.
“It’s almost ready,” Abby said, bringing Jesse back to the present. She set steaming cups of coffee on the table for them and went to the china hutch to fetch two plates. She piled each one with blackened slices of bread and three burnt pieces of bacon. “Ulayla showed me how to make her French toast,” she said, setting the plates down in front of them. “She gave me her secret recipe, but it didn’t turn out like hers. I think I had the skillet on too much heat.”
Jesse looked up at her with a forced smile. “It looks delicious.”
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Abby said, hurrying to the cupboard.
While Abby’s back was turned, Jesse darted a look from her plate to Toby. She grinned at his troubled expression. Ulayla’s French toast had always been a nice shade of golden brown. Abby’s was charred to a crisp—black as the liquid in their cups. The pungent smell of burnt bread had all but erased the usual mouthwatering aroma of nutmeg and vanilla that Jesse had come to expect.
“They left all sorts of food behind,” Abby said, returning with a jar of maple syrup. She placed it on the table between them.
Toby and Jesse both poured on a generous amount, hoping to mask the unsavory flavor they both anticipated. Neither had the heart to say anything that would hurt Abby’s feelings knowing she’d put a lot of effort into their breakfast. With smiles and mmms they graciously finished everything on their plates while maintaining their best poker faces.
Jesse tossed her napkin down, scooted back from the table, and asked Toby to fetch her hat from the hall tree. Once he left the kitchen, she approached Abby, who was hunched over the sink washing the morning dishes. “Thank you for getting up and cookin’ this morning, but you don’t have to do that. I can do it from now on. No reason for you to get up so early.”
Abby straightened and reached for a towel. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t very good. Ulayla’s is much better,” she said, drying her hands with a hint of dejection in her voice.
Jesse placed her hands on Abby’s waist and pulled her close. She whispered in her ear, “That’s not true. Yours was better. It tasted like love to me.” Stepping back, she gave her a wink as Toby came walking in with her hat.
“You two have a great day,” Abby said, still wearing the smile Jesse’s words had left on her.
Jesse and Toby went to the barn, saddled the horses, and rode off to work.
Day after day, Jesse carved away at the wood, etching in intricate details and littering the floor below her with curled shavings of wood. Her evenings were always spent with the family, sitting in the parlor with one or both of the twins cuddled on her lap and reading aloud from A Christmas Carol. This precious time with her family was her favorite part of the day.
December 6th had approached quickly. It was the day before Sam and Helga Bowman were set to return and, coincidentally, the day before Thanksgiving was to be observed, courtesy of President Andrew Johnson’s proclamation. It didn’t feel like December to Jesse. Traditionally, she would have been shuttered alone in the cabin, up to her knees in snowdrifts by this time. Years of lonely isolation had been replaced by the warmth of her family. She was happy to break from that tradition.
It was fortunate for Mr. Tidwell and his crew that the Bowmans had been delayed overseas—this had given the workers two extra weeks to finish up some last minute details. Now, all that was left for Jesse to do was to finish installing the floral finial atop the carved-newel post.
It had taken her two months, sometimes even working late nights after everyone had gone to bed, to finish all the carved pieces of the staircase. Jesse had whittled meandering vines into the wood of the balusters and used a deep walnut stain that matched
the banister, all finished with three coats of varnish to polish it off. After attaching the finial, she stepped back to have a look at her work and was startled to feel a hand rest upon her shoulder.
“That’s some of the finest woodworking I’ve ever seen,” Mr. Tidwell said, clapping her on the back. “You’ve exceeded my expectations by miles. How’d you like to be in charge of all the trim work when we start the construction on the next phase?”
“I’d be happy to,” Jesse said with a smile that could not be contained. It felt nice to have her work recognized by someone as experienced as Mr. Tidwell.
“Listen, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Why don’t you go on home to your family and let them know about your raise?”
“Raise?” Jesse asked, her striking green eyes wide.
“How’s five cents more on the hour sound?” he asked, offering his hand.
She gripped his hand, pumping it as if she was drawing water from a well. “Thank you, Mr. Tidwell.”
“Call me, Harry,” he said. “And get some rest this weekend because we start demolishing that house next door on Monday. Now, get on outta here.”
Jesse was still reeling from her unexpected good fortune when she went to the carriage house to saddle Buck. As she was tightening the cinch, Andrew came in through the open door. “I got a wire from Mr. Bowman. They’ll be returning in the morning. He asked me to invite you and Abby over. Ulayla is going to prepare a Thanksgiving feast.”
Jesse tossed the reins over Buck’s neck and turned to face him. “I’m sorry, but we can’t make it. Abby’s been looking forward to our first holiday in the new place. She’s been planning it for weeks.”
“Hmm, I see. Well, how about you come tomorrow evening for dessert then? I can send a carriage for you.”
Jesse thought for a moment. “We’d love to.” She was sure Abby wouldn’t have a problem with stopping by for dessert. Not only would it be nice to hear about their trip, she was eager to hear what they thought of her work.
