All of the sows were in a pen at the front of the barn except one, a sow that had farrowed two weeks earlier. She and her piglets, already a good size, were in a pen at the back. Another sow was in a separate pen at the front with her two-day-old piglets. The mules and our four cows switched their tails as we walked by. The piglets occasionally squealed as they fought to nurse. The cows mooed their displeasure at being penned instead of roaming in the pasture.
While in the barn, Zeke and I stopped to pet Velvet. She licked our hands with her smooth, warm tongue.
Then Zeke raised his head, tilting it to one side. “Jay? Something sounds funny.”
“Funny? How?” I strained to hear.
An ominous cracking came from the back of the barn, and my heart caught in my throat.
Chapter 9—The Piglets
“Zeke, get out!” I rushed to the gate of the pen nearest me and pulled it open, shooing the cows out.
Zeke froze in the center of the barn as the cows trotted by him. Momma rushed in and scooped him up, and Poppa ran in behind her. I threw open the gates, and Poppa helped me drive the animals out. The sow with the two-day-old piglets would not leave without them. Poppa picked up a board and prodded her side, forcing her out.
I gathered up as many of the piglets as my arms would hold and stumbled from the barn. I paused just outside, but Poppa urged me to keep going. Momma met me and took the piglets from my arms. I turned to go back in for the rest of the piglets, but Poppa seized my wrist.
“No, Blue Jay. It’s too late.” He wrapped his arms around me.
The backside of the barn swayed, the creaking and cracking growing louder. The old barn groaned like a wounded animal, and the back crumbled. The tin of the roof twisted under the weight of the snow, breaking the wooden supports beneath it.
It crashed down.
I cried out when I heard the terrified squeals of the three or four piglets left behind. Poppa’s strong arms held me tighter, and I lay my head on his shoulder and cried.
“They’ll be okay, Jay,” he said.
Why would he say that when they might be seriously hurt or killed? What made him think they would be okay?
I pulled from his grasp and walked a few feet away, swiping the tears and chewing my lip.
Most of the animals milled around in the yard, but the mules were nowhere to be seen.
“Sarah Jane, walk a piece down the road and see if you can find Mr. Price and Aunt Sally,” Momma said. “Take some rope with you.” She held Zeke, and his arms were tight around her neck.
“Don’t worry none if you can’t find Mr. Price, Jay.” Poppa grinned his lopsided grin. “Without him our farm will be priceless.” He slapped his knee and chuckled.
I didn’t smile as I set off with Chance. How could Poppa joke at a time like this?
I searched the snow to see which direction the mules had gone in. Their prints led to the road and toward the school. Plowing through the snow was hard work, and my legs soon began to ache. Despite that, despite the worry over the piglets, peace descended as I walked along, taking in the beauty that surrounded me. The blanket of snow covered the briars tangled in the gulleys, the broken-down fences lining the road, and the ugly redness of the clay.
The snow quit falling as I plodded along, and the gray clouds slowly thinned. The sun occasionally peeked out, causing the snow to glisten like a satin ribbon in its rays. The pristine condition was marred only by the tracks of the mules and, now, my tracks.
The trail led off the road. I scrambled up the embankment to follow them. Not until Chance and I entered the clearing did I realize we were at Cedar Spring.
The mules drank from the spring. I watched, as still and silent as the woods around me. Snow lined the branches of the large cedar tree. I lapped up the beauty of the snow-lined banks of the stream and the pure whiteness surrounding me, quenching my thirst. I walked to a rock and brushed the snow away, my hands still warm inside Momma’s gloves.
My scarf had slipped down, and my breath came in quick puffs of gray. I pulled it back up over my nose.
Chance cantered around the clearing, jumping like a jackrabbit, and occasionally disappearing into a deep drift. I wondered about the piglets and prayed a quick prayer before I pushed myself from the rocks. A sigh of longing escaped my lips.
Chance came when I whistled. I patted his sides, brushing off some of the snow matting his fur. The mules were easy to catch, and I soon had the ropes around their necks. I still glanced around the clearing, lingering as long as I dared, and then I led the mules home.
The mules followed me into the yard, the rope slack between us. Poppa had been busy while I was gone. He had enlisted Momma’s help to construct a makeshift fence, and they were rounding up the last of the pigs and lifting them over when I arrived. I must have spent longer at Cedar Creek then I realized.
The back of the barn was all that had fallen in. It could have been worse. More of the animals could have been hurt—or even Zeke or me. Or Poppa. My teeth chattered, and I swung my arms to warm up.
Momma took Zeke’s hand. “James, I’m getting in out of the cold. You and Sarah Jane need to get inside, too.” She eyed me before leading Zeke, who protested all the way, into the house.
“I got the rest of the piglets out, Jay,” Poppa said, smiling at me. “Good thing they were at the front of the barn.” He nodded at the piglets inside the fence.
Gratefulness washed over me as I caught sight of the squealing piglets. Poppa took the ropes from me and led the mules through the pasture gate and let them loose.
I stayed at the fence, watching the pigs. The youngest piglets hovered in a corner of the small paddock. They were on the opposite side from their mother.
When Poppa returned, I pointed to the pigs. “The momma’s not with her babies.”
The older piglets had gathered around their momma and were already busy suckling. Poppa propped his foot on the bottom rail of the fence and pulled out his pipe.
“Yep, I noticed that. We’ll give her a day and see what happens. A sow don’t take kindly to strangers handling her babies. Could be she’ll reject them now.”
“What’re we going to do if she rejects them?” I asked, through chattering teeth. I wrapped my arms tightly around my body.
“Sometimes you can get another sow to take the piglets.” He took a draw on his pipe and puffed out a ring that hovered for a second above his head before dissipating. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Ain’t no need to borrow trouble from tomorrow. You go on in and get warmed up. I’m going to fix a box for the piglets to keep them warm tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” I took one last look at the squealing piglets, and then walked to the house.
Chapter 10—Visitors
The next morning, I woke up thinking about the piglets. I dressed in one of Poppa’s flannel shirts and overalls and followed Poppa outside. The piglets seemed content, piled up in a pink pile of hooves and snouts in the box Poppa had made. Yet I knew they must be hungry.
The sun shone brightly in the sky, and it already felt warmer than yesterday. However, the snow had not even begun to melt. It reached my knees in some places. The day’s beauty eased my worry over the piglets.
I helped Poppa feed the livestock, and we just finished when Chance barked and ran toward the road. I followed after him to peer into the distance. Three men on horseback rode toward me. Dan! My heart leaped in my throat.
But, then, I looked more closely and saw it wasn’t Dan.
It was Michael.
Michael Hutchinson and his father and uncle. Why hadn’t I gone inside? Me in overalls and a bonnet pulled over my unbrushed hair.
The three dismounted and tied up their horses on a post in our yard as Poppa walked forth to meet them. He shook hands even with Michael. I trailed behind, keeping my eyes cast down. A warmth rose to my cheeks.
“And I believe y’all know my daughter, Sarah Jane, my Blue Jay.” Poppa placed a hand on my shoulder and beamed.
I nodded at the three, wishing I was anywhere besides standing there with Michael smiling at me. Michael reached down and let Chance sniff his hand. When Chance wagged his acceptance, Michael patted his side.
“We’ve been checking up on all our neighbors, making sure everyone made it through the storm all right,” Michael’s father said.
Poppa pushed his hat back. “How did everyone fare?”
“Everyone seems to have fared fine.” Mr. Paul eyed the barn behind us. “‘Cept maybe y’all. Looks like you’ve got a little problem.”
“Yep. Good thing it was just the back part of the barn that collapsed. We were able to get all the animals out—thanks to Sarah Jane.”
Poppa beamed at me again, and my cheeks burned hotter.
“We’ll be glad to help—shouldn’t take long to get that fixed.”
Mr. Paul, his brother, and Michael strode toward the barn to check it out. I decided to take the opportunity to escape. I hurried back into the house and shrugged off my coat.
“Sarah Jane, who’re those men out there?” Momma pulled back the curtain and squinted.
“Mr. Aaron Hutchinson and his brother, Paul.” I hung my coat on the peg by the door.
“There were three of them,” she said.
“Mr. Paul’s son is with them.” I hesitated. “Michael.”
I walked over to the fireplace to warm up. Zeke knelt on the floor near the hearth, playing with wooden toys carved by Poppa, and I dropped down beside him.
“Well, what do they want? Trying to get you to tell me anything is like pulling teeth from a chicken.” She strode over to me.
“They’re helping people out. They’re going to help Poppa fix the barn.”
“How much are they charging?” She tapped her foot.
I looked at her in surprise. “Nothing. They’re just being helpful.”
Momma snorted. “I’d better go make sure. We don’t have any money to pay someone to help.”
“Wait, Momma.” I swallowed. Just what I needed—Momma making a scene. “I’ll go get Poppa.” I held my breath, waiting for her answer.
“Well, I reckon. While you’re going out there, I suppose you can take them some coffee.” She headed toward the kitchen.
Me, giving Michael coffee? My heart pounded in my ears. Panic caused my eyes to flit around the room. My gaze landed on Zeke.
“Momma, I’ll need help. Would it be okay if Zeke went with me?”
“Reckon so. He can tote the coffee cups.” She went back to the kitchen.
Zeke needed coaxing to leave his toys and help me. He reluctantly rose and buttoned his coat. Momma came out with four cups and a small ceramic pot filled with creamy milk.
“You be careful, Ezekiel James. Don’t break my cups.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took the cups from Momma.
I went into the kitchen and used quilted pot holders to pick up the hot coffee pot. Momma ushered us out, calling out warnings to Zeke.
We walked slowly to the barn, dread filling me with every step. Before we entered, I leaned forward to whisper in Zeke’s ear. “You first.”
“Why?” He turned to me with rounded eyes.
“Just do it. Please.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Chapter 11—Coffee
As we stepped into the barn, Zeke called out to Poppa. When the men saw Zeke laden with the coffee cups, they stopped talking and smiles crept across their faces.
“A bearer of great gifts,” said Mr. Paul.
I couldn’t help but smile at their friendly faces. Maybe this wasn’t going to be too bad. Zeke handed out the cups and then scurried from the barn to play in the snow. After each cup brimmed with hot coffee, I set the pot down on a bale of hay. “Would anyone like milk in their coffee?”
“Sure,” Michael said. He settled onto a bale, and Chance climbed up beside him.
“Chance, get down!” I scolded.
Chance tucked his head between his front paws and edged closer to Michael.
“I don’t mind.” He grinned and stroked Chance’s head. “Is he an Australian Shepherd?”
I nodded, surprised Michael knew the breed. Most people living near us owned hunting dogs.
I poured milk into Michael’s cup, my hand shaking. Maybe he would think it was from the cold.
“Say when,” I said. The coffee cup flowed over before he stopped me.
“You like a little coffee with your milk?” I asked.
The men laughed, and Michael smiled. My heartbeat quickened, and I turned quickly away.
Poppa and the men shook their heads when I offered milk to them. They walked outside to drink their coffee.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the spitball.”
He laughed, and I looked at him through my lashes.
“I knew it wasn’t you. You’d never do anything like that.”
I smiled in relief. And then I remembered I was supposed to tell Poppa to go inside. Momma might come looking for him any second. “I’ll be right back.”
I hurried from the barn. “Poppa!”
His brow furrowed. He hated to be interrupted, something Zeke and I were never allowed to do. What would Michael’s father and uncle think of me?
It was either be rude or be embarrassed when Momma came storming out.
“I’m sorry, Poppa. I forgot to tell you that Momma needed to talk to you.” I bit my bottom lip.
“Okay, Jay.” He nodded at the men. “I’ll be right back, and we can get started.”
Michael came out of the barn. I kept my eyes on Poppa, uncertain what to say. Zeke came to my rescue.
“Can I have a cup of coffee, Jay?” he asked.
“Tell you what, Zeke. I can fix you a cup of coffee like Michael had.” I grinned.
“Oh, boy.” He grabbed Poppa’s empty cup and brought it to me. I fetched the milk and coffee. After I poured a small amount of coffee in the cup, I topped it off with the rest of the milk.
Zeke took a sip. “This tastes just like milk,” he said. “I thought you were going to fix me a cup of coffee like Michael’s.”
“I did.”
The men threw back their heads and laughed.
“Yep. That’s just the way Michael likes his,” Mr. Paul said. He tousled his son’s hair, and Michael grinned.
Poppa came out of the house, his face strained and white.
“Jay, take Zeke back in. Your Momma needs your help.”
“Yes, sir.” I collected the cups, and Michael’s hand touched mine when I took his from him. His gaze held mine for the briefest of seconds.
I loaded Zeke down with the cups and gathered the coffee pot and the ceramic pot. I glanced back and saw Michael watching me. I entered the house, a smile on my face.
MR. PAUL AND MR. AARON were right. They were through repairing the barn by lunch. Poppa tried to get them to stay and eat dinner with us, but they said they had to be going.
Although relieved when they left, I felt restless. I took Zeke back outside to play some more in the snow while Poppa finished cleaning up the barn.
When he had put his tools away, he called Zeke and me over to help him return the animals to the barn. Poppa saved the mother sow with the two-day-old piglets for last. She still had not gone to her piglets, and they had begun grunting, nuzzling the box in search of their mother.
Zeke and I carried the squirming piglets to the stall, two at a time. I couldn’t help but cradle the animals in my arms like I would a newborn baby. They looked a lot like babies, all pink and round. I was filled with emotion at the sight of them, wondering if their mother would ever nurse them.
After they were settled in, Poppa tried to entice the sow to her piglets, but she steadfastly refused to go near them. He picked up one of the piglets and brought it to her. She scampered in the other direction. After putting the piglet down, he picked up the sow, grunting under her weight, and carried her to them, cooing to her, like a mother to a child. When he released her, she kicked and squealed
and ran to the farthest corner. Poppa sighed and pushed his hat back. He joined Zeke and me outside the stall, and we watched the crying piglets for a few moments in silence.
He pulled out his pipe and lit it. “Young’ns, reckon we need to see if the other sow will take them. I’ll try a couple at a time and see what happens.”
“Can we carry them, Poppa?” Zeke sucked in his breath.
“Sure.” He finished his pipe and tapped out the ashes. “Wait here, and I’ll bring them to you.”
Poppa opened the gate and went back in. He picked out the two biggest piglets, and we took them from him. At the other end of the barn, the sow lay on her side, letting her piglets suckle.
“Will she have enough milk for all of them, Poppa?” I asked, frowning.
“Sure, Jay. God will provide.” He took the piglets from us and carried them into the stall, his movements steady and slow. The sow raised her head once and eyed him before allowing her head to drop down. Poppa edged closer to the sow, again cooing softly. He placed the piglets near her and backed away.
He closed the gate behind him and stood with us. I held my breath, never taking my eyes off the babies. Some of her own piglets were satiated and curled up together. The new piglets squirmed their way through them. They reached the sow and rooted until they latched on and began to suckle. The old sow never even raised her head, simply grunted softly. Poppa, Zeke, and I released our breath as one. I laughed, not knowing they had been holding their breath like me.
Chapter12—Dan and Michael
“Let’s go in and see if supper’s ready. Then we’ll come back and try two more,” he said.
“Why can’t we take them now, Poppa?” I asked.
“Jay, we have to be patient. If we rush things, that old sow might reject all of them.”
I didn’t like walking past the piglets, squealing for their momma, but there was nothing I could do. I would have to trust that Poppa was doing the right thing.
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