by Allison Shaw
It had been one hell of a long day.
Chapter 5:
A Nap In A Pig Sty
Papa Robertson walked through the doorway of the lodge at seven the next morning with Jolena at his side. Darlene was washing the breakfast dishes as Red Wolf and Mountain Rose were finishing their juice so they could go help their grandfather with the livestock. The kitchen was warm and full of the aromas of coffee and country ham.
Eli and Layla had just left for school, arguing over whose turn it was to drive the jeep that day. The matter was put to rest with a coin toss and the assurance that they would switch over the next day. Both of them had been warned not to give out any information about the previous day’s events.
Jim and Caleb were feeding the stock with Euan and John assisting them. Caleb swore at Callie’s mare when she kicked at one of the other horses. “That horse was the sweetest thing when she was a foal,” he explained to John. “Then she grew up and turned into a bitch.”
John shrugged and cracked a broad grin. “Well, it seems tae be a female thing, ye ken?” he remarked. “I nae ken, but some say for aye it’s their hormones tha’ makes ‘em sa pernickitie.”
Caleb looked confused. “I didn’t understand a thing you just said,” he said.
“He said it’s their hormones tha’ makes ‘em sae….” Euan paused as he thought of how to translate from Broad Scots. “Contrary. Difficult.”
Jim offered his own opinion as he handed out the milking pails. “God made women the way they are so us menfolks would have more than just sports and the weather to talk about.”
John laughed. “Och an’ tha’s for aye!” he exclaimed. “I like a’ the oother things He made ‘em for, too!”
The other men shared in the laughter and finished the morning chores, with the children running around doing their share of ‘helping’. When they finished, they walked into the kitchen for coffee. Euan’s eyes fell upon the elderly couple sitting at the table with Darlene as his children ran up to hug them. There was no mistaking the affection between the children and their great-grandparents.
And no mistaking the looks that they gave him - curiosity, wariness, reserve, knowing. The man motioned for Euan to sit down as Darlene set more coffee cups down on the table. Euan took his seat and waited.
Papa looked the Scotsman over. Looks alone proved in his mind that this man was the daddy of Callie’s twins. Hell, Red Wolf looked just like him except for having Callie’s straight hair.
But his eyes saw more than just the surface. In Euan’s eyes and gestures Papa saw clues of the man’s character. There was a bit of arrogance in the set of the mouth but remorse in that of the shoulders. The eyes were full of caution but lacking in deceit. The small movements of his hands showed thriftiness as well as a tendency to keep things to himself. There was a strong sense of stubbornness, too.
This was a young man who had to learn things the hard way most of the time.
Euan sat still as the older man looked him over and wondered just how lacking he would be found. He had no reason to think that Callie’s family would accept him or even like him, and he couldn’t blame them for that. It was another cross he had to bear.
Callie hadn’t come down and he found himself worrying about her. He had not suspected that she could have ever been carrying so much grief inside of her that it would tear her apart and break her down like that. He felt like even more of a bloody bastard than before. Making things right with her might well take him until Judgment Day.
Papa asked Euan and John, “Well, what do you’uns think of our place here?”
John smiled. “Och, its verra bonny here,” he said. “I find it much tae me liking, except for the wolves howling in the middle o’ the night. D’ they oft come up sae close t’ the hoose?”
Darlene explained, “Jim and the kids rehabilitate rescued wolves so that they can learn to live back out in the wild.”
Euan asked, “What d’ye mean, rescued wolves? Were they trapped or injured?”
“No, son,” Jim replied. “They were bred in captivity for pets, except that they can’t breed the wolfiness out of them and the people who buy them think they’re supposed to be like dogs. Trying to raise wolves like dogs causes a whole host of problems and many of these animals end up being destroyed or abandoned. A lot of times people drive them out into the countryside and dump them, figuring that since they’re wolves they can live in the wild. The ones that don’t starve to death usually end up getting shot when they attack livestock. We try to get them and teach them how to be wolves again.”
He paused before saying, “Callie excels at working with them. Those wolves of hers are ones who chose to pack with her. They’d follow her to hell and back.”
Euan felt a tingle of fear. “Does she have the bairns around them?”
“The kids?” Jim asked. “Sure. They’ve raised those kids like their own cubs and protect them just as fiercely as she does. Hell, the kids learned to walk by holding onto a wolf and walking with it.”
The startled looks on Euan’s and John’s faces made their hosts chuckle, which did little to allay Euan’s concerns. “Are ye sure it’s safe for the children t’ be in such close proximity wi’ the beasties?” he asked. “Wha’ if aen turns oon ‘em?”
Jim finished his coffee. “They’re in much more danger from their fellow human beings the way people are these days,” he observed. “Wolves don’t prey on their own kind or kill for pleasure or sport. They’re faithful to their mates, take good care of their children, and are loyal to their pack. People could learn a thing or two from them.”
Papa patted Red Wolf on the head and pulled him up onto his lap. The boy smiled up at the old man and leaned back against his chest. Jolena was looking at a small fossil that Mountain Rose had found outside, listening to the child point out the structural characteristics and praising her curiosity and sharp eyes. Caleb and Jim sat by each other, their expressions and gestures almost identical, as they listened to the children talk.
Euan felt a warm pang at the easy affection of Callie’s family. These people were family in the truest and best sense of the word. His upbringing had been much stiffer, which was probably why he had been so rebellious most of his life. He wondered if this deep bond was what he had somehow sensed in her when they met and had caught his heart and rooted into his soul.
Darlene asked, “Mama, would you go with me to check on Callie? She’s not feeling very well. Maybe you could take a look at her and see if she needs doctorin’.”
Jolene nodded and rose from her chair. “I been worried about that girl all night,” she said. “I can gather that this has been mighty rough on her.”
She bent down to kiss Papa on the top of his head and he reached up and caught her hand where it rested on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You menfolks carry on,” she instructed. “The women have some work to do.” She held her hands out to the children. “Come along, young’uns. Let’s go see yore mama.”
“Grandpa said Mama’s sick,” Mountain Rose said. “She fell down at dinner last night and Daddy had to carry her up the stairs.” The child continued telling the tale as they made their way out of the kitchen.
Euan watched them go, not wanting to take his eyes off of his children. He had missed so much of their lives, missed out on so many things. They were beautiful and intelligent, creative and expressive. He couldn’t get enough of them.
Turning his eyes back to the others, he realized that they were all looking at him. There was some sort of decision that would be made at this table, although how he knew that he couldn’t tell. He could only wait.
“Well, son,” Papa stated, “I gather yore the daddy of them kids.”
Euan nodded. “Aye, sir.”
“And ye come to see ‘em?”
“Aye, sir.”
Papa crossed one arm across his chest and rubbed his chin with the other, thinking. His black eyes were fixed on this red-headed stranger as he pondered the reasons his granddaug
hter must have had for loving the man. Yep, he was handsome, a bit rough-hewn, and had an interesting face. He noted the deep timbre of the voice, the way it rumbled in his chest like low thunder. Callie had never been one to be much impressed by looks and he needed a bit of time to gauge the man better before he decided what the family would do about him. “How long are ye stayin’ here?” Papa asked.
Euan replied, “Six months, I hope. Maybe longer.” He met Papa’s gaze. “I want t’ ken m’ bairns an’ be their da.”
“And what about their mother?”
Euan looked down and sighed. “If she’ll gi’e me the chance, I want tae make things right wi’ her. Maybe start o’er again.”
“Ye screwed her over pretty bad, boy,” Papa said. “She won’t forgive ye anytime soon. Maybe never.”
“Aye, sir. I ken that, but I’m fair willing t’ try.”
Papa asked Jim, “Do ye need him today?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Why?”
“I think I’ll take him and go fishin’.”
“Isn’t it a bit cold for that, Papa?” asked Caleb. “Fish won’t feel much like bitin’.”
Papa looked at his grandson. “Boy, ye don’t necessarily go fishin’ to catch fish. Ye can go to do some thinkin’ or to get yourself straight. And ye can learn a lot about a man just watchin’ him fish.” Looking over at Euan he asked, “Ye up to it?”
Considering that the purpose of said fishing trip wouldn’t necessarily be to catch fish but for Callie’s grandfather to size him up in order to make some sort of judgment concerning him, Euan gave the matter some thought. This was the family patriarch, whose word carried considerable weight with the rest of them. Euan tried to remember some of the things Callie had told him about how her family handled issues that came up and wished he had paid more attention. He could refuse to go but saw no point in undermining himself like that.
“Aye, sir,” he assented.
“Let’s go out to the shed and get our tackle,” Papa said. Looking at Caleb and Jim, Papa directed, “You boys pack us some food, if’n ye don’t mind.”
Jim nodded and set about packing a good-sized insulated bag with cheese, jerky, crackers, dried fruit, and sandwiches. He brewed up some more coffee and poured it into two large thermoses which were packed into a back pack. Caleb handed these to his grandfather, who set off with Euan for one of Papa’s favorite fishing holes.
“What do you think Papa will decide about him?” Caleb asked Jim.
Jim thought for a moment. “Can’t say for sure, son, but it’ll be what he thinks is best for the kids and I’m willing to bet Callie won’t like it one damned bit.”
Darlene and Jolena quietly entered the room Callie had been sleeping in. The bed was unmade and Callie was not in the room. Red Wolf pointed at the bathroom down the hall and they could hear the shower going.
“Well, she’s up,” Jolena noted. “Let’s see what frame of mind she’s in.” She tapped on the bathroom door. “Callie, sweetie, are ye in there?” she called.
“It ain’t the freakin’ queen of England,” Callie replied.
Darlene took a breath and said, “Well, it looks like she’s got some of her snap back.” She asked Callie, “Baby, are you alright?”
Concern for her oldest child was written all over her face and infused in her voice. Caleb was Jim’s son - strong, quiet, no-nonsense, good-natured, but an alpha male all the same. Layla was like her Aunt Dora, Darlene’s next younger sister, with a cheerful, easy-going, soft-hearted personality. Eli was the family comedian whose character was reminiscent of an otter- too interested in everything to focus on any one thing for great lengths of time.
All of the kids were bright, creative, and well-read but Callie was more like Darlene than any of the others. Darlene was darker complected and stood about two inches taller than Callie but their build was similar and they had the same swift walk. Their voices had much the same qualities in timbre and inflections so that even family often confused them for each other on the telephone.
It was in their intellect and temperament that they were most alike: highly intelligent with a broad range of interests, able to cut through rhetoric and get right to the heart of a matter in less time than it took most people to breathe, and fiercely protective and loyal to their own. Both were avid readers of just about anything they could get their hands on, which was evident in the rather extensive collection of books housed in the bookshelves lining the front room of the lodge and in each bedroom, and filling niches in the halls and under the stairs. It was said that they had several times more books than even the old county library had ever held and folks often came up to the lodge to borrow a book or two or to pass the time with a cup of coffee and a dessert while they read.
Darlene was artistic, creative, and saw the world in ways most people never thought of. She was incredibly patient with those who had difficulty doing things because of age or disability but had absolutely no tolerance for those who were just too lazy or trifling to put in more than minimal effort. In her own youth, she had been a fearless defender of the underdogs and those bullied by others. She stood up for what was right, against what was wrong, and regardless of who or how many she stood against she never backed down, gave up, or gave in. Her oldest daughter was very much the same way.
Callie had awakened with the residues of headaches and bad dreams trampling her nerves and sapping her strength. Too wrung out to get up at first, she finally did so when her bladder was about to burst. Once in the bathroom, she had decided that she needed a long, hot shower to cleanse herself inside and out before she had to go downstairs and deal with the flaming curveball life had hurled at her.
She and her grandmother had made the soaps and shampoos used at the lodge, most of them with masculine scents like cedar, sweetgrass, musk, and walnut. But there were some of a more feminine nature with scents of wild rose, honeysuckle, lemon, cucumber, violet, and vanilla. Many of the soaps had exfolients made from ground up nut shells, oats, or pumice to aid in thoroughly cleansing the skin as well as cream, honey, aloe, olive oil, and other moisturizers to soften it. Contrary to what most people thought, lye soap wasn’t nearly as harsh as most commercially-made soap. It was all in how it was made.
Using a loofah, Callie had scrubbed her skin to just this side of an abrasion, as if trying to get rid of all of the old and be brand-spanking new. She lit a eucalyptus candle for an energizing aroma and was using raspberry-rose soap for its calming effect. The contradiction of scents seemed to fit her mood.
Mountain Rose opened the bathroom door and came in. Peeking behind the shower curtain she asked, “Mama, whatcha doing?”
Callie was rinsing the conditioner out of her hair and had to rinse her face off so as not to get any in her mouth. Sputtering a bit, she replied, “Just taking a shower, honey. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Why are you taking a bath now? Did you get dirty?”
“No, I didn’t take one last night.”
“You’re s’posed to bathe before you get in bed, Mama,” Mountain Rose chided. “Maw-Maw says going to bed without a bath is like taking a nap in a pig sty.”
Callie had heard that all of her life, too. She could take some comfort in some things never changing. God knows that was about all the comfort she had at the moment.
She turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain. Reaching for her towel, she became aware that her daughter was closely examining her. Her children had both seen her naked before, having showered with her on occasion.
They knew about their bodies and respecting them as well as those of others. Red Wolf had gone skinny-dipping with his uncles and all of the small children sometimes swam naked during the summer, so they knew that girls and boys had different bodies. They were old enough to ask questions about where babies came from, and had seen the livestock mate and baby animals being born.
Mountain Rose was looking at her mother differently today and Callie finally asked, “Is something wrong?”
The child looked her mother over, her brow knit in concentration. “I don’t know,” she replied before looking Callie straight in the eye. “Mama, did you and Daddy make us?”
Callie nodded, suddenly not liking where this was going. “Y-yes, sweetie. Why do you ask?”
Mountain Rose gave a thoughtful look and then asked, “Did y’all mate like the critters do?”
Callie was too shocked to move let alone reply to such a question. Where the hell had the child come up with that? Bright children ask bright questions but this was way too bright for a three-and-a-half-year-old. She stared at her daughter for a few uncomfortable moments before sputtering, “Whe-where d-did you get that idea?”
Mountain Rose sat on the toilet lid, kicking her legs back and forth. “Well,” she started, “you said that’s how baby animals get made. Do baby people get made the same way?”
Sweet Jesus, how was she going to answer that? Sure, she had always been honest with her children about such things on an appropriate level, even showing them pictures of developing babies in a couple of books made just to help parents explain pregnancy and birth to small children, but she had never mentioned her relationship with their father to them, especially any details of said relationship such as sex. Holy crap! she thought.
It didn’t help that her mother and grandmother were not doing a very good job of trying to stifle their laughter out in the hallway. Callie was mortified that her children could even think about such a thing, let alone just blurt it out for all to hear. She was going to have to have a talk with them about where and when they could politely ask such things.
“Well, did you?” Mountain Rose insisted. She looked at her mother, fully expecting Callie to answer this question with all of the knowledge and expediency that she usually answered any other question asked of her. What Mama didn’t know, Grandma and Grandpa usually did, and what they didn’t know Papa and Maw-Maw did. The Hawken twins were used to asking questions and having them answered.
