by Alan Black
The big woman picked up the pieces and tossed them under the wagon seat. She pulled out another sign.
Grace said, “The new sign is a house warming gift from Clayton and me.” The sign said simply ‘The Hazkits’. It was polished wood, banded in twisted black iron and the words were burned deep into the grain. “May I?” She held up her hammer and pulled a couple of nails from a pocket.
Clare nodded. “It would be a blessing to this house and all who live here.”
Susanne looked around and said. “This is sure a beautiful little lane, all grass covered with the trees bowing overhead like a roof.”
Clare said, “It looks like only one other wagon has been through here in years. That must have been Art and Sheriff Grissom.”
LillieBeth vaulted back onto the mule cart seat and said over her shoulder, “I do not think Mr. Hoffman even had a wagon. I am not sure he even used this gate in his coming and goings. It is so pretty, but wait until you see the rest.” She waved them on with excitement, driving the cart while standing and yelling at Ruth and Naomi to hurry.
Susanne was watching LillieBeth, worried the young woman would lose her balance and fall from the cart. She wanted to shout at the girl to sit down, but she was no longer the girl’s teacher. It would be up to Clare to make her sit, but Clare was watching the trees and flowers around them. She gasped in surprise when the mule cart pulled out of their way, opening the view to a broad meadow full of deep green grass sprinkled with spring wild flowers. At the far end of the meadow, a break in the trees showed a view of the wide White River Valley. The meadow was not empty as a dozen horses grazed quietly in the deep grass, punctuated by three rambunctious colts kicking up their heels and nipping at the sky. It was as if God’s bounty was laid open for view.
The Hazkit mules stopped and cropped the grass as quickly as they could. LillieBeth, despite all concerns for her own safety, stood on the seat of the mule cart and waved her arms, as if conducting the wind through the tall trees surrounding the meadow. It was only through her attempts to make friends with a crazy old man that the Hazkit’s now owned this little piece of heaven on earth.
A Bible verse popped into Susanne’s head. Most people thought Psalms warned about pride going before a fall. Teaching Sunday school and presiding over scripture recitations had taught her Proverbs 16:18 said, “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Pride caused destruction, not just a fall. However, LillieBeth had a right to be proud, impending destruction notwithstanding.
Susanne was still worried LillieBeth would take a real fall. It would not take much movement by the mules to knock her off her feet, standing on the seat as she was. She gritted her teeth to keep from shouting at the girl to get down.
Clare looked completely unconcerned, but stared at the meadow and the valley beyond.
The mules took a step forward, jolting the cart. LillieBeth staggered on the seat, unbalanced, arms waving. She whooped in surprise at the unexpected movement, but she kept her footing and grinned at the three women in the wagon.
Clare laughed. “I don’t know how many times I told you about standing up on that seat. Don’t you come crying to me it you get knocked off and break something!”
Susanne was shocked and a little confused. How could a caring mother be so unworried about danger to her child? She knew if she ever had children of her own, she would love them and protect them. She knew Clare loved her daughter beyond measure and she had been harder on LillieBeth as a child than many parents had. Now, it was almost as if Clare was holding back, letting her daughter test her own way.
LillieBeth laughed.
Susanne could not help but laugh with her. It was good to see her little friend enjoying herself. The past few days had been a rough on LillieBeth. The young girl had almost given up smiling.
LillieBeth waved her arms, directing their sight away from the meadow and the view of the valley. She pointed behind them.
Grace gasped, “Glory be! Would you look at that house!”
Susanne was amazed. She certainly had not expected to see something like this from Fletcher Marlowe Hoffman. The man had been crazy and mean, practically a hermit, certainly a criminal, probably a killer and maybe even truly insane, but he had built a beautiful home to match the beauty of the meadow.
Clare said, “LillieBeth told of a house, but I never expected…it is…I have no words.”
The little house was not a cabin, but carefully crafted from smooth cut lumber. It was true and square. Red wood shingles in straight even lines covered its peaked roof, hipped slightly at the top corners. It had glass windows, framed and well placed to catch the sun and the view. There were two front doors, but only the door on the left had a matching window inset in the top half. It was all very unusual for the Ozark Mountains.
Most unusual of all, it was painted. It was not whitewashed like their little church, but it was painted a bright and clean white. The paint on the trim around the windows and the entire door was a bright green.
Like a guide, LillieBeth pointed to the outhouse just off to the side of the little house. It was a miniature copy of the house. The wood shingles matched. The small roof had hipped corners. There were no inset windows, but the door had an intricate carving of a horse instead of the usual half moon or star.
Susanne had never seen an outhouse with anything other than a slanted flat roof. She had also never even thought of seeing a painted outhouse. Its colors matched the house. She wondered if Hoffman had paint left over from the house and rather than throw it out, he painted the outhouse instead.
Grace said, “It is pretty, but Hoffman must have been cracked like last year’s walnuts. Painting an outhouse may be a bit outside the garden fence, but lookit there. He done painted the rocks leading to the house and the little outhouse.”
White painted rocks lined the path leading to the front door. Every fourth, fifth or sixth rock was painted to match the green trim on the buildings. A painted rock path led from the house to the outhouse.
Clare nodded. “I don’t know what would possess a man to cover a perfectly good rock with store bought coloring, but I do have to say, it is pretty.”
LillieBeth had jumped down from the mule cart, leaving it unattended. She skipped through the grass and vaulted up on the spokes of the wagon wheel, standing eye level with her mother. She smiled hard enough to air out all her teeth. LillieBeth said, “It is the prettiest house I ever saw. And look in the meadow, see that little painted colt? Isn’t he perfect? And over there, see that big painted Quarter Horse? Why, they could be related.”
Susanne could hardly pull her eyes away from the house, but LillieBeth was right. Hoffman had been raising some exceedingly well bred animals. They had strong legs and straight backs. They were well fed and better taken care of than most animals that just roamed free in the hills. The larger paint was even halter broke, wearing a leather harness. They were certainly not the stunted half-grown ponies Mr. Nicholetta had imagined running these hills.
Grace looked at the horses with a professional eye. She said, “I don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all, but you are not right on that big stallion. Now the little’un is a painted Quarter Horse, sure as I am a sittin’ here. But that big’un is a Missouri Fox Trotter. You can tell by the lines that it is a cross between a Tennessee Walking Horse and a Pinto, most likely with a bit of Mustang in him.” She continued to look thoughtful. “Huh. That big stud must be new breeding stock to this bunch. None of the little’uns got his blood in them. They’uns all got Quarter Horse blood.”
Clare asked, “Missouri Fox Trotter?”
Grace said, “New breed coming out of the Ozarks themselves. Still getting the bloodlines married together some. I am not sure I would mix in Quarter Horse to the breed, though. The Missouri Fox Trotter is a very sure footed critter, good for working cattle in these hills. They got real smooth gates, almost like their back feet are running and their front feet are walking. If you watch one real close, they alw
ays have one foot on the ground, no matter how fast they are moving.”
LillieBeth was off the wagon and across the meadow in a rush.
Susanne felt Clare tense up, but the girl’s mother said nothing.
LillieBeth approached the big stallion slowly, holding a hand full of grass in an outstretched fist. The horse lowered his head and cocked it a little to the side, but did not back up nor did it take the offered grass. The horse tolerated LillieBeth’s brief pat on the nose, but when she grabbed the halter with both hands the horse backed up and spun about.
LillieBeth did not let go. The girl’s feet went airborne and the horse whirled her around.
Susanne screamed in fear and hid her eyes in Clare’s shoulder.
LillieBeth screamed with joy and exhilaration.
Clare closed her eyes and gripped Susanne’s hand.
Grace grabbed her hammer and jumped to the ground. She froze when the horse stopped and LillieBeth landed on her feet, hands still clinging to the halter.
LillieBeth whooped with excitement. Without another word, the girl let go of the halter, grabbed a handful of mane and vaulted up on the horse’s back. The horse gave a little shiver, but allowed the girl to sit. She leaned down, hugged the animal’s neck, and with pressure on its neck and a kick of her heels, she directed the horse to the Grissom’s wagon.
Susanne looked up to see LillieBeth’s bright face. The girl’s long brown hair blew about in the wind. Somewhere she had lost the twine tying her hair back. The excited flush on her face made her freckles stand out.
Clare said, “Elizabeth O’Brien Hazkit. You did not know that horse, nor did he know you. Just because I am having a new child does not mean I want to lose the other one.”
“Sorry, Mama. I guess I was not thinking.”
Clare said, “That is what being young is all about, I guess.”
LillieBeth said, “Mama, he is so beautiful. Can he be mine?”
Clare said, “That is up to Daddy. We will ask him when he gets back.”
Grace added, “Stallion like that will like as not be worth six months wages. I know a man from over Branson way would pay twelve or thirteen hundred for a good Missouri Fox Trotter stud. Sounds like a lot to give for a youngster’s pet.”
Susanne nodded. “He looks dangerous to me.”
Clare patted Susanne’s leg. “Sweetheart, everything male looks dangerous to you right now. Give it time. And you, Miss Crazy Horserider, let’s check with Daddy before you do any more running up to strange animals.”
LillieBeth nodded once in acceptance of her mother’s command. “I am going to call him Fletcher after Mr. Hoffman. Can I ride Fletcher once around the meadow? I will stay in sight the whole time.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled out a long piece of twine from a pocket. She leaned down and looped it through the halter, making reins for the big horse. Fletcher looked back around at her, allowing her to slip the halter around his nose.
Clare said, “LillieBeth, we have talked about not naming animals. You know why.”
LillieBeth said, “Yes Mama. But Fletcher is not like chickens, pigs, or even goats. I know it is a lot harder to eat a pig if you know it by its first name. But, we named Ruth and Naomi, right? And we are not going to eat Fletcher any more than we would eat Ruth or Naomi, right?”
Clare said, “No. We won’t eat Fletcher. But Grace is right, twelve hundred dollars for a horse is a lot of money. We might have to sell him, just as we might have to sell other stock for cash. I know we can eat rabbits and squirrels, but I used the last of our flour and most of the salt we had this morning on making biscuits for breakfast. And your cartridges for the rifle and that new handgun of yours do not grow on trees.”
LillieBeth looked thoughtful. “Fletcher will go if he has to go. People come first. But until Daddy says different can I ride him? Please?”
Clare said, “We have a lot to clean in this house and a lot of our stuff to move in, so just once-”
LillieBeth was gone, the horse moving with such grace it seemed to be floating over the grass.
Grace said, “Maybe I was not cut out to have children. That girl just about stopped my heart when she got swung around through the air. She is a wild one.”
Clare laughed. “No, Grace. She is just a child. Proverbs 22:15 says, ‘Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child.’ Sometimes fathers and mothers just have to let the foolishness bubble up, out and let it pass. Sometimes it is hard to watch, but we have to do it to let our children grow.”
Susanne said, “As a teacher, I do think we should keep trying to instruct our children. The rest of the scripture says the rod will drive foolishness far from them.”
Clare laughed. “Yes, it does. You do have a teacher’s frame of mind. I think you can use the rod too much. No matter how many times you tell your child to slow down when running downhill, the only way they are going to slow down is when you let them fall and skin their knee a couple of times. And believe me; it has always been more painful for me to patch up LillieBeth’s scrapes than it was for her to get them. You do have to let them spread their wings or when the time comes, they won’t be able to fly out of the nest.”
Fletcher raced around the meadow so smoothly LillieBeth had let go of the reins. She stretched her arms into the wind, her hair blowing behind her, her laugh tickling the tops of the grass as the sound raced back to the women. Fletcher and LillieBeth reached the end of the meadow. She spun the horse in a tight circle and raced straight back to the wagons, scattering the other horses. The stallion slid to a stop, LillieBeth slid down from the horse’s back and almost landed on her feet. Almost.
Susanne cringed as the girl managed a summersault and came up laughing. It was good to hear LillieBeth laugh, but she wondered if it was worth losing a year off her life to watch.
Clare said, “You are going to make Ruth and Naomi jealous if you ride around them like that.”
LillieBeth walked over to her mules and wrapped an arm around their heads. “Oh Mama. They know I love them. Not more and not less, just different, you know? I expect it will be like that with me and my little sister. Just because you love her, it will not mean you love me any less, right? Just different.”
Clare nodded, her eyes tearing up.
LillieBeth pointed behind her. “I saw where they lay Mr. Hoffman. There is a little knob back at the edge of the meadow. It overlooks the valley and all the way back to his house.” She nodded with a sad smile. “I think he would have liked that. He spent so many years living here looking at this house and this meadow that it only seems right and fitting.”
LillieBeth looked at her mother. “So, what are you doing sitting there on that wagon? Let’s go see our new house.”
Clare nodded. “LillieBeth, I look at this place and I can’t hardly believe that this, in all its beauty is ours. And I am heart struck to look at you and think that this beautiful young woman is my daughter. And if you give me a minute to climb off this wagon, I will race you to the front door.” She climbed down from the wagon seat and straightened her dress.
LillieBeth shook her head, “Oh, Mama. You should not be running. You are with child.”
Clare said, “Nonsense. One, two, three-” She took off running, shouting over her shoulder. “Go.”
Susanne longed to race with her friends, but Clare and LillieBeth were at the front door of the house before she could even get from the wagon seat to the ground. Grace hooked an arm through hers and they walked to the where Clare was rough housing with her daughter, each trying to get into the front door first.
Grace shouted, “Ladies, company first. That’s me.”
Clare pushed LillieBeth out of the way and gave Grace a hand signal considered rude, even in other than polite company. She shouted back, “My house, my rules.” She picked up her twelve-year-old daughter and carried her into the house.
Susanne stepped back and let Grace enter first. The house was built four square, meaning there were four equal sized rooms. The room wi
th the window in the front door was the parlor. It was clean and neat with only a new cast iron wood stove in the middle of the floor. To the right was a door, opening to what looked like a bedroom. Straight ahead was another door.
Clare stopped in the doorway to the room straight ahead. It was a kitchen. There were shelves and counter space, cupboards and stove, and even a sink with a pump. Water inside the house was not unheard of, but it was a surprise.
Grace stepped up to the pump. She drove the handle up and down a few times. There wasn’t any water. “I would suspect that it just needs to be primed a little. I’d guess the gaskets are a bit dry from lack of use.”
LillieBeth skipped into the room from another door. “Mama, there is a door from each room into the next. You can walk from the parlor to the front bedroom to the back bedroom to the kitchen and then back around to the parlor again. And every room has a door to the outside and a window of its very own.”
Grace said, “Windows? Good gravy, that means someone is going to be sewing curtains until the cows come home.”
Susanne looked around. “Longer if there aren’t any cows.”
Clare said, “I thought we would have to clean, but there isn’t a speck of dust or a cobweb in this whole building. Art and I will take the front bedroom. LillieBeth and Susanne will have to share the back bedroom. And Susanne, be careful around my daughter, she passes gas something awful when she is sleeping.”
“Oh, Mama!”
Clare said, “Let’s get Grace’s wagon unloaded first, so she can get going if she wants to. Then we can unload the cart.”
Grace said, “Oh no. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy. Clayton will have to come by here to drop Art off. So I might as well help tote the whole load. It might be quite late before the men get back, maybe not even until morning. I am in for the long haul.”
They pulled both wagons as close to the doors as they could get and in less time than they had taken to load up, the wagons were empty. Grace left her wagon where it sat and turned her horses loose to graze and water at will.
