Instant Prairie Family. Bonnie Navarro
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choose from. At the restaurant, the lady gave one to you to look at so you could decide what you wanted to order. Here at the house we will make a list for the week ahead of what we are going to make each day so you can get really hungry the days that we make your favorites. It helps to know what we want to cook so that we can make sure all the ingredients are available.”
“What’s ’gredients?”
“Ingredients are the things we need to make that food, like flour and butter and eggs…. Now, how about if we go help your pa put my stuff in my room and then we can chat?” Abby offered, following the man who had disappeared into the second doorway on the hallway from the kitchen. Once out of the kitchen, she discovered it wasn’t a hallway but a large living room with a comfortable-looking davenport and a rocking chair facing the center of the room. The center wall was a massive fireplace with an ample hearth. The door Mr. Hopkins entered shared the wall with the fireplace. That room would be nice and warm come the winter—if she was still working for the family then.
The bedroom itself was sparsely furnished, with a large bed sagging in the center. The only other piece of furniture was a forlorn nightstand. Everything had a layer of dust, and the spiderwebs in the corner looked like spun cotton.
“Where would you like your chest?” Mr. Hopkins stood in the middle of the room, looking surprised to see the condition of the place. “Um, I hadn’t been in here....”
“I think it would be best if you left it out in the living room for a few minutes until I can tidy up just a bit,” Abby suggested tactfully.
“Are you gonna sleep on the couch?” Tommy asked.
“No.” Abby shook her head and smiled at the small boy, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be sleeping in here, but I think it would be better to air out the room and sweep up a little. Don’t you agree?”
Tommy nodded energetically. Willy hung back at the door, not venturing into the room but watching everyone else.
“Could you do me a favor?” Abby asked Willy, knowing Tommy would probably follow. “Would you go find me the broom and dustpan?” As soon as Tommy and Willy had raced off, she tried the window, but it wouldn’t budge.
“I’ll go get your other things, miss. Unless there’s something else that you would like me to do first?” Mr. Hopkins offered. His hands resting on opposite sides of the door frame reminded her just how big Mr. Hopkins was. He looked capable of building a house on his own.
“Could you give me a hand with the window?”
Mr. Hopkins crossed the room in five large steps. The room shrank with each step. He towered above her as he stood next to her. He pushed a lock on the top of the lower frame and then grunted as he tried to free the window. It took two tries, but suddenly there was a rush of fresh air sending dust dancing across the room.
“Thank you, sir,” she choked out, just before sneezing from the dust.
“No problem. I’ll go open the kitchen windows, too. Might as well get it aired out in here. I’ll have to put screens on as soon as I can so you’ll be comfortable in here in the summer, assuming...” Before he found the words to finish his thoughts, he stalked out of the room.
The boys raced in, fighting about who was going to give her the broom. “Thank you, gentlemen.” She acknowledged both of them, causing Tommy to have a fit of giggles. “Now I need you to go out in the living room until I’m ready for you in here. I’m going to get some of this dust out.” She tied a handkerchief around her face, covering her nose and mouth, making both boys giggle. Too much in a hurry to change, she told herself that the clothes that she had traveled in needed a good washing anyway, so a little more dust wouldn’t hurt.
In a few minutes, she swept up the dirt and dumped it unceremoniously out the open window. She took the bedspread and sheets off the bed, even though there wouldn’t be time to get them washed and dried before nightfall. She opted to get as much of the musty smell out as possible. She hung the bedding on the lines extending from the side of the house to a stand twenty paces away. Beating the dusty linens helped to relieve the tensions that had built up over the last few weeks and gave the boys something vigorous to do.
Rinsing off at the outside well, she returned to the kitchen, happy to find that the three pots had vanished. A good breeze flowed through from the two windows and the doorway to the living area. Someone left a fire started in the stove, but she opened the door and checked it anyway. She put water to boil in the only big cauldron she could find in the pantry. She couldn’t start dinner until she got some of the grime out of the kitchen. Broom in hand, she made quick work of sweeping the bulk of the dirt off the floor.
Two hours later, she had the table and counter spotless, the supplies Mr. Hopkins brought from town put away in the pantry and dinner finished. There hadn’t been time to make bread, but she was glad to see there were all the ingredients she would need tomorrow. For tonight, a simple fare of biscuits and fried meat would be all she could offer. Mr. Hopkins had promised a visit to the smokehouse tomorrow so she could take inventory.
The windows let more than just the breeze in. A bee and a few flies all got a good whack from her wooden spoon for their efforts to visit her kitchen, but the boys’ laughter and shouting rode inside on the breeze, too. The latter far outweighed the first. She smiled, listening to them play with their hoops as they ran around the barnyard with sticks in their hands, competing to see who could last the longest before the hoops would wobble and fall.
Finally, the spotless table set with clean dishes, she stretched her arms to the sides and then over her head. She had always worked hard at Emma’s house, but today, she did more in a few hours than what she usually would do in a whole day. Traveling left her stiff and out of sorts, and last night’s sleep had been fitful. Even with the reassurance that Mr. Hopkins and the boys were sleeping in the tent a few paces from the wagon, Abby had startled awake to every small sound. As tired as she felt now, though, she was sure she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.
“Gentlemen, it’s time for supper,” she called, descending the back stairs.
Tommy dropped his stick in the dust and let the hoop roll off as he sprinted to her. “Can we come in now? Pa said we needed to let you sleep, but it sure smells like you were cooking. Can you come see my room now?”
She grimaced at the last question. What would she find upstairs if the downstairs was so dirty? She wasn’t sure she could take any more surprises like that tonight. At least the mess gave her hope that if she could do her best job, she would show Mr. Hopkins how much he needed her. It wasn’t just a question of taking care of the mess. From the state of the pots and pans, she’d gotten the idea that Mr. Hopkins wasn’t a very good cook, either. He was strong and tall but lean. The boys were on the skinny side, too, but with a few weeks of her meals, she was sure that she could have them filling out very nicely.
“Do you want to let your pa and cousin know it’s time to eat?”
Without letting go of her hand, Tommy stopped, looked over his shoulder and let out a holler that almost left her deaf. “Auntie House says it’s time to eat.”
Turning again toward the house, he started to tug again, but she stood her ground. “Is there something else that you need to do before you head on in?” she prompted.
“Nope. I told ’em,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly.
“I was thinking about your toys. Do you always leave them in the middle of the yard?”
“Huh?” Tommy glanced around, confused, until he spotted Willy carrying in the other hoop and stick. “Oh. Wait here for me, Abby,” he called over his shoulder as he let go of her hand and charged off to collect his forgotten toys.
“Auntie Abby,” a deep voice corrected from the open doors of the barn. Mr. Hopkins had been observing from the shadows. Would he be angry for her familiarity with the boys? Would he approve of her work or was there something she had done that upset him? If only she didn’t feel like she was on trial.
“Auntie Abby,”