Everett

by Christine Sterling

  Alice picked up the paper and shoved it under her arm, joining him by the table. “Polly is practicing.”

  “Practicing? Practicing what?”

  It was hard to believe that Ellie’s friend had been at the ranch for just over a week. Everett had been proficient at avoiding her. Rich mentioned the woman’s pretty looks and sweet personality.

  In his thoughts, Everett agreed that she was one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. Her behavior, however, was a different story. He hadn’t seen anything sweet about her at all.

  It appeared she went out of her way to vex him.

  “She’s been making cookies and cakes for Ellie and Owen’s wedding. She has a recipe book which came all the way from England,” Alice said.

  “That’s pretty far.” Everett popped a cookie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Not too bad,” he said, picking up another one.

  “You better not do that, Ev. She’ll be madder than a wet hen if she thought you were in here eating these before dinner.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to a cake cooling on a rack.”

  “She called it a sponge cake. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Hmmm. You still haven’t answered my question about where everyone has gone to?”

  “Oh. They went to town. Ellie wanted to get some lace and Polly needed more baking powder, flour, and cocoa.”

  “Where’s Marmee?” Everett’s fingers reached out and quickly snapped up another cookie. They were the best he had ever tasted, although he would never say that to Marmee.

  “Marmee went with them. She needed to pick up a few things as well.”

  “You didn’t go with them?”

  “No. I wanted to ride over to see Annamae.”

  “Alone?”

  “It isn’t a far ride.”

  “Alice…,” he warned.

  “I am not a child. I wish everyone would stop treating me as such.”

  “Marmee would wrap you up in linen cloth if she thought you’d remain her baby.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’m going to be twenty soon.” Everett picked up a knife. “What are you thinking of doing?” Alice admonished.

  “Shhhh. I came in for a snack.” He dropped the knife into the middle of the round cake.

  “Don’t you dare, Everett.”

  “Too late. The knife just fell in.” Everett made quick work of cutting a small square from the middle of the cake. “She can frost it, and no one will ever know.”

  “Polly is going to be livid when she sees that.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” He popped the small piece of cake in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. The cake was light and airy, so different than the heavy, denser cakes Marmee would make in the Dutch oven. It had such a sweet butter flavor, that Everett wanted another piece. He eyed Alice standing there with a mortified look on her face. “Cheer up, Pint Jar,” he said. “There is plenty left. Look, there is even a second cake.” Everett dropped the knife in the middle of the untouched cake. “Looks like I’ll have to try this one as well.” He quickly cut out the center of the cake and wiped the knife on his shirt before placing it back at the place setting. He offered half of his pilfered piece to Alice.

  “I don’t want her to get upset with me.”

  “Then don’t say anything.”

  “I’m not going to lie for you, Ev.”

  “I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking you to enjoy a piece of the best cake I’ve ever had.”

  Alice hesitated for just a moment before reaching out to take half of the cake Everett offered. She popped it in her mouth and her eyes grew wide. “That tastes like a cloud.”

  Everett laughed. “I wonder if she is going to serve it with dinner?”

  “I don’t know. But you better get out of here before they return.”

  “I can do that.” He picked up an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table and shoved it in his pocket.

  “Why don’t you take me to the Hartmans’?”

  Everett stopped. “What was that?”

  “Why don’t you go with me?”

  Everett clenched his jaw. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I know that they are hurting just as much as we are, and it would be nice if someone else other than me or Ellie went to visit.”

  “I’m not going, Alice.”

  “Fine. I’ll just tell Polly who cut into her cake.”

  “You wouldn’t. You ate it too.”

  “She’ll be so mad at you, that she won’t even think about me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to ride over to the Hartmans with me. You don’t even have to go in. You can just sit by the creek. I won’t be that long,” Alice quickly added to the end.

  Everett thought for a moment and then sighed. “I’ll take you. I’m glad you are getting out of the house.”

  Alice kissed his cheek and ran from the room. “Let me get changed and we can go.”

  “I’ll be at the barn,” he called after her. No point in being in the house when Polly gets home.

  “Why, Everett Chapman, I don’t think I’ve seen you in forever.” Annamae Hartman held onto the column that held up the porch roof with one hand and leaned over, swinging herself around the wooden post. She looked at Alice. “He’s in the garden.”

  “Who’s in the garden?” Everett asked. Alice didn’t respond, instead, she quickly hopped off her horse, dropping the reins to the ground and disappeared around the corner.

  Annamae resumed her swinging around the porch post. She was a pretty girl. Everett’s memories of her were from over twelve years ago when they were still in school together. She was five years younger than him, so she must be at least twenty-one by now. She wore a tattered skirt with patches decorating it and a knitted sweater. Her dirty blonde hair fell past her shoulders and swayed as she rocked back and forth. She had large blue eyes and a thin face. As she swayed from the column, he could see dirty bare feet peek from beneath her skirt.

  “I can’t believe you are out here without shoes, Annamae.”

  “It ain’t that cold. I was gonna walk out to the field. The last of the corn is drying. We can pick some ears and then feed them to the pigs.”

  “I dunno. We are only here for a few minutes. Where did Alice go?”

  Annamae stopped swinging. “She’s in the garden.”

  “I thought she was here to see you.”

  “She is. I’ll get along shortly.”

  Everett pinched the bridge of his nose. Annamae wasn’t telling him anything. He pinched himself harder before releasing his nose. His eyes took a moment to focus. He tugged the reins and clicked his tongue. Shadow started walking towards the garden.

  “Alice!” he called.

  Annamae stepped off the porch. “Wait!” she cried.

  Everett halted Shadow. “What?”

  “She’s probably inside getting ready to have tea with Ma by now. You wanna come in and have tea?”

  “No.”

  Annamae bit her finger. She gave a swish of her skirt and turned on her heel. “You wait here,” she ordered over her shoulder. “I’ll get her back out in a jiffy. Pa should be home soon, and he won’t like you being here.”

  “Then send Alice out and we’ll leave.”

  “Let me get my boots.” Before Everett could respond, Annamae disappeared into the small cabin. It only took a moment for Annamae to reappear. She had a cape wrapped around her shoulders. Everett could see it was frayed in places as well. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going, Annamae?” Everett asked.

  “To the field, silly.”

  “Where’s Alice?” His patience was getting thin. He didn’t have much time to waste as he needed to get back to the herd as quickly as possible.

  Annamae avoided the question and walked past him to pick up the reins for Alice’s horse. She tied them to the porch and then turned to look at Everett. Everett could see her face was sunken in. When she
brushed her hair aside, he saw dark circles framing her eyes. Her lips were a pale pink and blended with her light skin.

  “You gonna go with me? Alice is perfectly safe inside.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “Then don’t, Everett Chapman. Just come with me and I’ll fill you in away from listening ears.”

  Everett sighed and lifted his leg over the back of the horse and jumped to the ground. He tied Shadow next to Alice’s horse. He’d hear whatever silliness Annamae had to say and then he’d hightail it back home. He turned to see Annamae already walking towards the field in the distance. He jogged to catch up with her.

  “So, fill me in,” he said slowing down to walk beside Annamae.

  “Alice has been over here trying to get Ma to visit Marmee.”

  “How often does she come here?”

  Annamae shrugged. “Maybe once a week. Normally she comes by herself. Sometimes Ellie accompanies her.” Annamae picked up a piece of dried straw and twirled it between her palms. She rolled the straw up and down as she continued to talk. “I like Ellie. She’s marrying your brother, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. Owen.”

  “Oh,” she replied softly. “I know he was supposed to marry Sarah.”

  “It was a long time ago. He’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

  Everett thought of Ellie for a moment. She genuinely loved Owen. He wondered what it would be like to have someone love him like that. Polly’s face flashed through his mind and he quickly pushed it away. She wasn’t cut out for this life. She was a delicate flower, baking cookies, and cakes, the likes the folks in Flat River had never seen. Women needed to be tough to last out west. The weather could be harsh. Everett was surprised there wasn’t snow yet. Sometimes it would snow as early as September. But this year the weather had been surprisingly mild.

  But again, he had no intention of getting married.

  “Have you been sick, Annamae? I don’t remember you looking so pale when we were younger.”

  “I caught the fever a few years ago. I’ve never recovered.”

  Everett wasn’t sure what to say, so he remained silent.

  Annamae ran ahead, her wrap falling from around her shoulders. She stopped in front of the corn and pulled at several dried ears.

  “I’m surprised your Pa hasn’t put these in the corn crib for winter.”

  “He will. But he’s been busy with other things right now.”

  “His animals gotta eat.”

  Annamae passed several ears to Everett and then moved further down the row. “Just put them on the ground. I’ll get a few more and then we can go toss them in the pen. By that time Alice should be ready to go home.”

  Everett put the ears in a small pile on the ground and helped Annamae collect a few more. “What’s her plan for getting the families back together?”

  “It’s easy. She’s going to marry Chatten.”

  Everett dropped the corn he was holding. Blood rushed to his ears. That was why she wanted to spend so much time at the Hartmans! She was planning on marrying one of them. Well, not on his watch. He’d marry a Hartman before he let Alice do that. And especially one so much older than Alice’s twenty years.

  The sound of blood roared in his head, drowning out all noise so that he didn’t realize Annamae had placed her hand on his arm.

  “What?” he demanded hoarsely, flinging his arm.

  Annamae stepped back, her boot catching on her skirt as she moved backwards. Her arms waved as she tried to catch herself. Everett reached out to catch her and she fell forward into his arms. She held onto his arms and righted herself. Suddenly her eyes grew wide as she peered over Everett’s shoulder. Everett turned and saw a man wearing dark clothing stride towards them gripping a shotgun in his hand.

  “What in tarnation is going on here?” a deep voice boomed.

  “Pa!” Annamae said moving forward. “We was just getting corn for the pigs.”

  “Pigs don’t need no corn.” Randall Hartman’s eyes looked at Everett. “Annamae, get to the house.”

  “But Pa!”

  “Now, girl. Git.”

  “Sorry, Everett,” Annamae said, lifting her skirt and racing towards the house.

  “You’re one of those Chapman boys, aren’t you?” Randall asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Everett had never seen evil before. He had seen drawings of what the devil might look like from Bible illustrations that Marmee would share as she read to her children.

  He had a particularly good idea that the man standing in front of him was the devil himself. Taking a deep breath, he made sure his hands were as far away from his pistol as possible. No use tempting the man to shoot, especially when he could see that Mr. Hartman had an itchy trigger finger.

  “How about you tell me what you are doing on my land, accostin’ Annamae?”

  Everett held his hands up in mock surrender. “This isn’t what it looks like, sir.”

  Randall leveled the shotgun at his middle.

  “Then why don’t you go ahead and tell me exactly what it is?”

  Chapter 5

  There were several things Polly learned that was different from her home in Atlanta. Everyone gathered at the main house for a large meal in the early afternoon, unless it was calving season or roundup. Marmee would get up before dawn to prepare breakfast, and then she would start preparing the afternoon meal.

  There was usually meat with plenty of sides. Marmee cooked beef steaks if she was in a hurry. On Sunday’s she served roast chicken, which Polly found out was Everett’s favorite. And baked or boiled ham would be served at least once a week.

  Polly learned that all the meat was raised on the farm and the cowboys helped with the butchering. In return, part of the meat would be set aside to feed the hungry men.

  Beans were a staple. Dried beans were used during winter and spring when fresh beans weren’t available. Beans that were picked straight from the garden were served during the summer months and into late fall. Marmee would boil them with bits of onion, ham, and a bit of salt. That was Polly’s favorite preparation.

  Potatoes, another vegetable, bread, and butter would round out the meal. After the main meal, desserts such as cake, cookies, or a pudding would be served. That would keep everyone filled until supper.

  Ellie had written in her letters to Polly that no one ever went away from a meal hungry. Now she knew exactly what Ellie meant.

  A light supper was served after dark and normally consisted of soup and sandwiches made from whatever meat was served at dinner earlier in the afternoon.

  Tonight, they had leftover vegetable soup, with sandwiches. Thick slices of bread were filled with layers of boiled ham, cheese, and a dark brown spread, unlike anything Polly had tasted before.

  “It’s a pickle,” Marmee said, pushing the bowl towards Polly. “I make it twice a year with the root vegetables that are starting to turn soft.”

  “What’s in it?” Polly asked.

  “Most of the time it is last year’s carrots, turnips, rutabagas, onions, and apples. I add cauliflower if there is any left from the summer garden. Add in vinegar, sugar, and apple cider and cook until it thickens.”

  “How long does that take?”

  Marmee shrugged. “It can take up to two days to thicken where I like it.”

  “Doesn’t it burn?”

  “I keep the heat low. If I’m cooking, I simply move it to the side, off the heat. There is still enough to keep it bubbling.”

  “I am so full, but I can’t stop eating this.” Polly grabbed a slice of bread from the basket and cut it in half. She spread a little bit of butter on it and a dollop of the pickle, before biting into it with relish. “It is delicious. We don’t have anything like that in Atlanta, do we, Ellie?”

  “No. This is the first time I’ve had it as well.”

  “It’s my mother’s recipe. She got it from her mother and brought it to Boston when she came from Ireland.”

  “I will have to write that do
wn in my recipe book. Sandwich pickle.” Polly finished her bread and wiped her fingers on the napkin. “I wonder if Mrs. Bailey has a recipe for that.”

  “Is that the one you brought from England?” Everett asked. Polly saw his chin was jutted out as he looked at her with disdain.

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” she smirked. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “Uh-oh,” Ellie whispered to Owen. “She’s about to let loose.”

  Polly noticed Alice shrink low in her chair. Polly glanced around the table, narrowing her eyes as she came to Everett. She opened her mouth to say something but collected herself. She didn’t want to embarrass Ellie.

  “I should get dessert,” she said, pushing herself away from the table. She took her plate and collected the plates closest to her.

  “You are a guest, you don’t have to do that,” Marmee insisted, standing.

  “Of course, I don’t,” Polly replied. “However, you opened your home to me. You’re feeding me, giving me a place to stay. If I were staying at a hotel I’d have to pay. This is the least I can do.” She turned and carried the plates over to the sink, returning to collect the rest. Ellie had already collected the remaining plates, so all that was left were the bowls and cups.

  Polly decided to start with Everett. She put on her biggest smile and leaned over him to collect his cup. Her lips were almost brushing his ear, and her thoughts were addled as the scent of leather, horses, and hay, filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes for just a moment. When she opened them, she saw Everett stiffen and his nostrils flare.

  Interesting, she thought to herself, grabbing the cup.

  “I know it was you,” she said softly so no one else could hear.

  Everett’s eyes snapped to hers. Polly tilted her head, her lips turning up at the corners.

  She pulled the cup towards her and dragged the bowl to the edge of the table. Before Everett could respond, the last of his soup landed in his lap. She heard him growl as she turned to Alice, taking the young woman’s bowl, and then walking to the sink without turning back.