by Kit Morgan
“And your father? What happened to him?”
“He died when I was five. Only a few years after my mother. I don’t remember her much, but I remember papa.”
“You poor thing, orphaned at so young an age. Who raised you?”
Samijo swallowed hard, and clutched her cup tighter. “My uncle.”
Ma sat back in her chair a moment before she finally spoke again. “I’m sure he’s very happy to see you married and settled. You must write him and invite him to visit.”
Samijo coughed, sputtered, and did her best not to spray the poor woman with coffee. It burned down her throat as she tried to get a hold of herself.
“Don’t drink it so fast, you’ll choke yourself to death,” Ma said. “I’m always having to tell Calvin to slow down when he drinks anything.”
Samijo got herself under control, grimaced, and gave a weak, “Went down the wrong way.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Ma said with a casual wave of her hand. “Nothing to worry about. Now, let’s start dishing this stew up. Those boys will be coming through that door any minute.”
Samijo got up, while motioning Ma to stay put. “I’ll … cough … do it.”
“Land sakes, child, you sound worse than I do.”
Samijo nodded and went to the stove. Bowls had been set out, so she went to work and dished a healthy portion into four of them, two smaller portions for herself and Ma. “Would you like yours now?”
“Heavens no, I always wait and eat with my boys. Besides, they like to hear me say the blessing.”
“All right, but I hope this doesn’t get cold …”
The back door of the kitchen flew open, and all four brothers filed in and went straight to the table. The youngest looking one stopped up short when he saw her, and gawked.
“Sit down, Daniel,” his mother barked.
The young man complied, and grabbed the nearest chair.
Benjamin laughed as the lad continued to stare starry-eyed at Samijo. She looked at both brothers and blushed, then looked to the third and did a double take. “Twins?”
“I’m the oldest,” stated Benjamin. “That’s Calvin standing there looking about to salivate. Stop it, don’t you know this is a lady?”
Calvin was an identical twin to Benjamin and she wondered how she was going to be able to tell them apart, other than the fact Benjamin had a half-day’s growth of whiskers and Calvin didn’t. She studied the latter as he gawked at her even more so than Daniel, so much he missed his chair completely when he went to sit, and landed on his rump with a thud.
Arlan came in last, shook his head in annoyance, and hands on hips, glared at all three.
“Mind your manners!” their mother cried. “Calvin, get up.”
It was all Samijo could do not to laugh as Calvin scrambled to his feet, righted his chair, and immediately sat. The Weaver men may be big and tough looking, but their mother ruled. Or at least it appeared so. She caught Arlan as he winked at Benjamin, and didn’t wonder if they jumped at their mother’s words out of love, not because of any sort of fear of reprimand. Of course, the sight of the tiny woman taking a switch to one of her sons would be a comical sight.
She set the bowls on the table and pondered what Mr. Weaver must have been like, when Arlan took her hand, and pulled her into the chair next to him.
“We always say a blessing in this house,” he whispered.
She nodded her understanding, as each bowed their head, and clasped their hands together in front of them.
Ma cleared her throat. “Dear Lord, thank you for answering my prayer and bringing home a daughter to me, a sister to Benjamin, Calvin, and Daniel, but most of all a wife for Arlan. You know how lonely he’s been and frankly, he’s not getting any younger …”
“Ma!” Arlan whispered in warning.
“Well you know it’s true,” his mother countered. “And Lord, if you could see it in Your big ol heart to do so, bring Benjamin a wife next.”
“Year,” Calvin added.
“Better make that two,” said Arlan.
Daniel snorted then covered his mouth with his hands.
“And Lord,” their mother continued. “Give me the divine strength as always, not to kill my boys. Forgive them, for they know not what they do …”
The twins burst into laughter, then got up, and kissed their mother on the cheek. “We’re sorry ma, we won’t do it again.”
“Do what?” Arlan asked, his eyes wide. “What have they done now?”
“Everything’s fine, son. You don’t need to worry.”
“What did they do?” Arlan asked through clenched teeth.
Ma sat back in her chair and shrugged. “They threw your brother down the well.”
“What?!” Arlan barked as he stood. “You two …”
“Stop!” Ma barked just as loud. “Sit, eat. I’ll hear no more of it today. Besides, the introductions aren’t done.”
Arlan slowly sat, his eyes narrowed to slits at the twins still standing on either side of their mother’s chair. They looked at each other before they re-took their seats. “This here’s Daniel,” Arlan told Samijo. “Who’s lucky to be alive after what these two did. Thankfully, he doesn’t look any worse for wear.”
Daniel glanced to his twin brothers, who in turn eyed him with something between amusement and warning. He crossed his eyes at them and then looked to Samijo. “Howdy.”
“Daniel doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s usually good,” Arlan told her. “He’s the smartest of the three.”
“Hey,” Calvin protested. “That’s not fair, you know Benjamin and me didn’t get the kind of schooling he did.”
“You all had the same schooling, only difference is, Daniel paid attention,” Arlan huffed. “By the way, Calvin. How’s that sling shot of yours?”
Calvin, who’d been reaching for a slice of bread, froze. His eyes rounded a scant second, before he looked Arlan in the eye. “Worked the last time I used it.”
“Really? And when might that have been?” Arlan asked.
Calvin audibly gulped.
“Stop all this yapping,” their mother said. “I want to hear about Samijo’s journey west.”
“Sure, ma,” Arlan said, then glared at his younger brother who in turn, took a sudden interest in a piece of potato at the end of his fork.
And so, Samijo and Arlan had their first meal together with the rest of the Weavers. Samijo, for one, couldn’t have been happier while Arlan on the other hand, was waiting for the meal to end so he could take his brother Calvin out to the barn to show him a little brotherly love … Weaver style.
Six
After lunch, the men left to do the afternoon chores, and their mother watched them head across the barnyard from the kitchen window. Samijo stood beside her and caught the worried look in her eye as Arlan grabbed Calvin and none too gently, shoved him toward the barn. “What are they doing?” she asked.
“Looks like Arlan’s going to have a talk with Calvin. Best get the bandages ready.”
“Bandages?” Samijo asked with a hint of concern.
“A trip to the barn usually results in bandages.”
Samijo’s mouth dropped open. “What? You mean Araln is going to hurt him?”
“No, talk to him.”
Samijo’s face twisted up in confusion. She looked through the window at the barn just in time to see Calvin come stumbling out of it to land rump first on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, rubbed his jaw, and stomped off. Arlan then emerged, his face stern, and marched toward the house with something in his hand.
“I guess no bandages this time,” Ma commented. “Must have let him off easy.”
“Easy? You call that easy?”
“You’ll get used to it dear. Out here things are different. There’s no Sheriff, no deputies, no law to run to. Arlan’s trying to teach those boys about life the best way he knows how. After his pa died, the responsibility of raising them fell to him. Lord knows I’ve done my best, b
ut the three younger ones need a strong hand. Arlan’s six years older than the twins, nine years older than Daniel. They’ve lived most of their lives here and don’t know any other way of life. They’d never survive in a big city, and wouldn’t know the first thing on how to go about it.
The kitchen door opened and Arlan stormed in, a slingshot in his hand. “Put this somewhere Calvin can’t find it.”
His mother took it from him. “Do I want to know what he did with it?”
Arlan’s eyes flicked to Samijo and back. “No.” He turned on his boot heel and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in time for supper. I’ve got to unload the wagon, check on the cabin, and then help Benjamin fix the plow. Looks like he got part of it done, anyway.”
“Yes,” his mother said as she stared at the slingshot in her hand. “Supper will be waiting when you get back.”
He stopped at the door and glanced over his shoulder at Samijo. “I’ll see you at supper.” Without looking back, he left.
She blew a loose strand of hair out of her face as she watched him walk across the barnyard to the wagon. It was the first time she’d noticed he’d not yet unhitched the team. Should she offer to help him unload? “How far is Arlan’s cabin from here?”
“Not far, about a quarter of a mile. You can get there quicker if you cut through the main orchard, then across a field. Why?”
“Does he need any help with the wagon?”
“For Heaven’s sake, no. The man is fine, leave him to his work and let’s get to know each other.”
Samijo turned away from the window and offered her new mother a smile. “I guess I’m not used to being idle. I … don’t know what to do with myself.”
“I have something to remedy that. Tell me, do you know anything about millinery?”
“Hat making? I’m afraid not. In fact, I don’t know how to sew very well.”
“Then it’s high time you learned. Come, I’ll show you the sewing room.”
Samijo then spent her first afternoon with her new mother doing what the woman liked best. Making hats.
* * *
After a couple of hours of millinery lessons, Ma needed to lie down and Samijo offered to make supper. She listened to the woman’s directions as to where everything in the kitchen and barnyard was located, then got to work.
She found an apron, put it on, then gathered what she needed from the fruit cellar and smoke house, the smoke house being quite the adventure, she’d never been in one before. Uncle Burr always had the butcher deliver their meats.
She then went to work preparing a chicken dish that had been a favorite of Uncle Burr and his guests. When he had guests that is, he usually complained he hadn’t the money to feed them, so didn’t entertain much. There would be a few ingredients missing, but she figured she could make do. At least she was confident in her cooking and house cleaning, and was sure she’d have lots of opportunities to prove to her new husband she was adept at both.
Once she had the chicken in the oven, she sat at the kitchen table and puzzled over what to make for dessert.
What kind of pie have you made, Samijo?
She smiled at the memory, and bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle. “Pie it is then. But not cherry.” Yet the thought of pie didn’t seem right, and she wanted the first meal cooked for her new husband to be special. “Ahhhh, I know just the thing.” Samijo wiped her hands on the apron, got up, and set to work again.
She had just taken the chicken out of the oven, and put the dessert in, when Ma came into the kitchen. “Land sakes! What’s that smell?”
Samijo froze and stared at her. “Er, ah … supper?”
“Of course it is, but what is it? It smells wonderful.”
Samijo’s shoulders slumped in relief. It Uncle Burr didn’t like something he usually tossed her into the attic. She was going to have to keep reminding herself she did not marry her uncle, and that the Weaver family wasn’t anything like him. “I’m glad you think so. I found the recipe years ago in a cookbook that belonged … come to think of it, I’m not sure who it belonged to. A Mrs. Porter I think, but I can’t remember who she is.”
“Doesn’t matter I suppose, what does is that you write the recipe down for me. Those boys of mine are going to gobble it up.”
Samijo blushed. She hoped so. She also wondered how often she’d be cooking for the entire family. She knew she was to keep an eye on Ma for a couple of days, but the woman seemed to be in good shape, other than a hack or two. She might find herself cooking for her husband in her new home sooner than she thought.
The kitchen door opened, startling her, and she jumped. “Oh my!”
“You’ll have to get used to them running in and out, but it’s usually right around meal times,” Ma explained. “I can keep track of the time by when that door swings open.”
Samijo chuckled at her remark, turned to face Calvin and immediately saw the bruise on his right jaw. He stared at her, his mouth hanging open, before he shut it and pressed his lips together. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.
He looked at his mother, then back to Samijo. “I … I came to tell you I’m sorry.”
She cocked her head to one side in curiosity. “Sorry? Whatever for?”
“For scaring the daylights out of ya, and … well … almost getting ya killed.”
“Killed?” his mother cried. “Calvin Weaver, what are you talking about?”
“I done used my slingshot to spook the horses. They took off running the rest of the way into the valley. Arlan wasn’t happy about it.”
Now it was Samijo’s turn to stare. “You did that? You scared those horses on purpose?”
“I didn’t mean to, I was trying to hit Arlan, but I hit one of the horse’s rumps instead.”
“Oh goodness,” she said and turned, her arms wrapped around her stomach. “Your brother was right, you did scare me to death.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Honest.”
She looked at him and nodded, but thoughts began to run through her mind. What ever possessed him to do such a foolish thing? Was this the sort of behavior she should expect from Calvin and his brothers? Had Mrs. Gunderson’s warning to her back at the stage stop just been validated? Or had the woman been exaggerating?
“You better be sorry, you could have hurt both Samijo and your brother. Maybe he should’ve given you a black eye!” his mother chastised.
“It won’t happen again, Ma.”
“See that it doesn’t. Now go wash up for supper.”
Calvin trudged out of the kitchen via the back door, and disappeared. Samijo had noticed a water pump on her way out to the smokehouse, and knew he was going to use it to wash his hands. He was probably too embarrassed to wash up in front of her. Guilt didn’t always wash away so easy.
“Those boys!” Ma exclaimed. “One of these days their pranks are gonna get them in a heap of trouble.”
“Pranks?”
“Oh honey, you have no idea. But Arlan will learn ya on how to deal with them. Mark my words.”
Samijo gave her a weak smile. Apparently Mrs. Gunderson hadn’t been exaggerating.
The men filed in not minutes later, with Arlan bringing up the rear. He looked tired, dirty and a wee cranky if one considered the set of his jaw, but his look softened the moment dinner was set on the table. “What is it?” he asked as he studied the platter of chicken, vegetables, and potatoes.
“I’m not sure what it’s called, but I refer to it as oven chicken stew,” Samijo explained.
Arlan and his brothers, each with a fork and knife in their hands, sniffed at the succulent dish set before them. “Smells good,” commented Daniel.
Samijo took each of their plates and served them up a healthy sized portion. They stared at their plates in turn, as Ma sat and clasped her hands together for the blessing. Samijo hurried to her seat to join them.
“Dear Lord,” Ma began with a smile. “Thank you that my new daughter can cook! You know how forgetful I’
ve been lately, and I enjoyed the nap I took today. And Lord, thank you for knocking some sense into Calvin, and letting him see the errors of his ways.” Benjamin snickered, and Arlan kicked him in the shin under the table. Ma didn’t seem to notice. “I know I’m getting old, Lord, and I’m sure thankful you’ve brought another woman into the house.”
Arlan’s head snapped up, and he stared at his mother. Samijo’s eyes, open since he kicked Benjamin, watched as his expression changed to concern.
“I pray we stay a happy family, and that I’m able to teach Samijo all that I can before …”
Arlan let his hands fall to the table. “Don’t say it, Ma. Just don’t.”
She looked at him from the head of the table. “It’s inevitable, son. It happens.”
“Not to you, not yet.”
Samijo looked between them. Was she saying what she thought she was?
His mother reached over and took her eldest son’s hand. “And I pray that Arlan continues to become the man You want him to be. As I do with all my boys.” She looked at each of them. Daniel was seated on her right, Arlan on her left. Both held one of her hands now. Benjamin sat at the other end of the table and stared at her. “Ma?” he whispered to himself.
“Things have to move on, sons. Arlan has a new wife, and it’s time the rest of you, especially you and Calvin, start thinking about marrying and having a family. I’m not going to be around forever.”
“Do we have to talk about this now, ma?” Daniel asked.
“No, but we’ll have to talk about it sometime.”
“Not now, ma. Not tonight.” Calvin added, his eyes lowered to the table.
Samijo looked at each of them. The mood had gone from happy to melancholy with but a few words from their mother’s lips. They must have loved their father very much, and couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to their mother, to the point of not wanting to speak of it.
Her heart sank. She was out in the middle of nowhere, far from … well … Nowhere, and began to understand how the Weaver family must feel. Their entire lives were each other. They lived too far out to make a simple trip into town when they felt like it. No, it took an entire day, which meant spending the night, then another whole day to get back. They didn’t have friends they spent time with, didn’t socialize. And here she thought she had it bad living with Uncle Burr. At least she got out of the house now and then to fetch his laundry or go to the market. But not here, the Weavers were bound to their valley farm and liked it. But at what cost was their isolation? When their mother did one day pass on, how hard was it going to be? And what of the younger brothers future wives? Would they be able to adapt to such a life? Samijo was somewhat used to it from living with Uncle Burr all those years, and saw it as freedom. But other women might not look at life in the Weaver’s little valley the way she did.
