When the children got home from school, Simon made a big show of asking Harry about his injured hand. Just as he suspected, though, he didn’t doubt the injury was still painful, the boy was much more concerned with making certain his bravado was acknowledged than with any pain it might have caused him.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Fern asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
Rose tugged on his pant leg. “Did you bring our things back with you?”
“I did. I’ve put the trunk with the girls’ things on the second floor and the one with the boys’ things on the third. You can go upstairs and unpack in a moment. But first, I have something else for all of you.”
He led them into the dining room, where a small trunk sat on a chair. The lid was open, and from what Eileen could see, it appeared to contain Miss Fredrick’s things.
“That’s Gee-Gee’s trunk,” Fern said. She glanced Eileen’s way as if suspicious that Eileen had been rummaging through the contents.
“I know.” Simon walked over to the trunk and placed a hand on the lid. “Miss Fredrick’s brother went through these things while he was here and took the items that were important to him. He wanted you children to have the rest. So you could each have something to remember her by.”
Eileen knew Mr. Fredrick would not have put it so generously. It was more likely Simon had requested the items on the children’s behalf. She found the fact that he’d even thought to ask for such a thing oddly endearing.
“Fern, would you like to help me lay out her things?”
With a nod the girl stepped forward. When she was done she gave Simon a dismayed look. “Gee-Gee’s silver hairbrush and comb aren’t here. And neither is her broach that she kept for special occasions.”
“Those were probably things her brother wanted as his own mementos,” Simon said calmly.
Other than a few articles of clothing, there wasn’t much to be had. A carved wooden box that held sewing implements; a hat that was decorated with two silk flowers, a feather and a hatpin; a couple of lace handkerchiefs and some other odds and ends. One by one the children stepped up and selected an item.
Fern took the hatpin from the hat.
Rose, Molly and Tessa each searched through the contents of the sewing box. Rose took a small decorative pair of scissors, Tessa a brass-handled darning egg and Molly took a silver thimble.
Audrey took a lace fan that had seen better days.
And Lily took a lace handkerchief.
Harry found a magnifying glass in the sewing box and Russell took the box itself. Joey took the feather from the hat and Albert took her wire-rimmed spectacles.
When they were finished Simon returned the few remaining items to the trunk and shut it. “Now, those things you selected are yours, to use however you like. Consider them early Christmas gifts from Miss Fredrick.”
Each of the children nodded silently.
“So, upstairs with you and unpack those trunks I brought back from Hatcherville.”
Once they were alone, Eileen turned to Simon. “I hadn’t realized you were such a sentimental man.”
He shrugged, seeming uncomfortable with that label. “I just figured they needed something of hers to hold on to.”
“I would say you figured correctly.” She thought of the small wooden cigar box the housekeeper had retrieved for her from her father’s study after his funeral. It was the only thing she still had of his, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Yes, Simon had done a very good thing for those children.
* * *
The next morning, as soon as the children left for school, Simon headed out to find some work. Eileen had her doubts, but when he came back at lunchtime he already had a new job well underway.
“Eldon Dempsey hired me to do some work around his farm.” Simon’s voice indicated he was pleased. “His roof needs some work and he’s putting in some new fences. The job should take me a couple of days.”
Eileen didn’t know Mr. Dempsey, other than to greet him in church. He was an older man who owned a small farm outside of town. But the job sounded like simple manual labor. Didn’t Simon know that he was capable of so much more?
“I met Hank Chandler over at the lumber mill when I went to pick up some supplies we needed,” Simon continued. “Hank’s going to let me work there part-time when I get through at the Dempsey place.”
“Have you worked in a lumber mill before?” She’d only seen inside the place one time. It seemed a loud, dusty, dirty place.
“Yes. It’s hard work but not as difficult as some other things I’ve done.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk to Adam about getting a job at the bank? It would be easier work.” And cleaner.
Simon grimaced. “I wouldn’t be much use sitting at a desk or behind a teller window all day—I’m much happier working with my hands. Besides, I already shook hands with Hank on taking the job.”
He snatched one of the biscuits Dovie had baked to go with their lunch. “I’m going to barter with Hank for some scrap lumber so I can set up a place in the carriage house for the chickens to roost.”
That brought her up short. “What chickens?”
“The chickens Mr. Dempsey is going to give me in exchange for the work I’m doing for him.” He pinched off a piece of the biscuit, his expression turning thoughtful. “I suppose they can just roost on the rafters until I build something more suitable, but it would be helpful to have some nesting boxes for them as soon as possible.”
Eileen brought the conversation back to what she considered the salient point. “He’s paying you in chickens?”
Simon nodded, a boyishly proud grin on his face. “It was my idea.”
“But what in the world am I going to do with a flock of chickens after you are gone?”
He frowned as if she’d said something nonsensical. “You’ll still want eggs to eat after we’re gone, won’t you? And you can sell any extra they produce to the mercantile for pin money.”
That gave Eileen pause. Another source of income, however small, would be welcome. And how difficult could it be to care for chickens? “I suppose, if you want to take responsibility for getting it all set up, I won’t stand in your way.”
Then she had another thought. “Do you know anything about raising chickens?”
“Of course. I spent the first eleven years of my life on a farm.”
Interesting. It made her want to ask him what had happened to change that, but she held her tongue.
“And I’ll teach you so you can continue after we leave,” he added. Then he gave her another grin. “And don’t worry. When I go to work at the lumber mill, most of my pay will be in the form of cash. I’ll have money to contribute to our expenses.”
“Mr. Tucker, I have never asked you for payment, nor do I intend to. You and the children are my guests, not my boarders.”
“I appreciate that distinction. And I gratefully accept your offer of a roof over our head. But if we’re going to be here long-term, and it looks like we probably will be, I insist on contributing to the grocery bill. It’s the only fair thing to do.”
“Very well. But I will only take food money—nothing else.”
“By the way, I’ve asked around about this Thanksgiving Festival the kids mentioned. It seems like that is a big deal around here.”
“It’s the biggest community-wide event we have. Except perhaps for the picnic and fireworks display we have on Independence Day.”
“Well, we’ll be long gone before July gets here, but since we’ll still be around for Thanksgiving, and you just accepted my help with the food bill, you can count on me to contribute a ham or goose to the menu.”
“But—”
“You and Dovie can provide the dessert.” Simon was obviously not going to take no for an answer. “I’m partial to pumpkin pie, by the way, if anyone’s interested.”
She decided to accept his offer graciously. “Very well.” Then she raised a brow. “But I make no promises as to what kind of pie we’ll be bringing. I’m rather partial to buttermilk myself.”
Simon watched her walk away, appreciating the added bounce in her step. No doubt about it, she was warming to him.
* * *
The next day was Saturday, which meant no school. It also meant it was laundry day. With so many people in her house, Eileen had moved laundry day to a day when there were all hands available to assist. The only person excused was Simon, who headed out for work as soon as breakfast was over.
Simon had built her some additional lines in the backyard to handle the increased volume of laundry, and he’d also come up with the idea of lining the wheelbarrow with an old sheet and using it to transport the heavy loads of laundry from the washtubs to the lines.
Eileen was very glad she had a wringer machine, but still it took all morning to get the washing done. The clothing was washed first and then beds were stripped and dirty towels and napkins collected.
She made it clear everyone was to pitch in, boys included. Those not actively working on the laundry were put to work dragging the rugs from the various rooms in the house outside and beating them to get the dirt out.
By lunchtime everything was finally hung on the line to dry. Her helpers all looked worn-out. She figured she wasn’t going to hear any objections today when it came to sending them to their rooms for quiet time after lunch.
And she was right.
Later that afternoon, when she was taking the now-dry laundry from the lines, Simon arrived riding in a small horse-drawn wagon. The children immediately abandoned their chores to crowd around him.
“Where’d you get the horse and wagon?” Russell asked.
“Can we keep it?” Albert asked.
“Hank over at the mill loaned it to me so I could get my lumber here. I’m bringing it back to him as soon as I get it all unloaded.” Simon singled out the two boys who’d just spoken up. “You two want to lend me a hand with this?”
The boys enthusiastically complied, while Eileen called the others back to help her finish collecting the laundry.
A chicken coop in her carriage house. What in the world could she look forward to next?
But she was smiling as she contemplated the possibilities.