Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) (12 page)

Lorenz looked helplessly at MacDonald after trying twice more to run the comb through his tangled mass, MacDonald took the offensive implement and said, “For now, just tuck the hair behind the ears.” He opened the door and motioned Lorenz in.

The humid heat from the black woodstove nearly knocked Lorenz to his knees. How did his mother stand it? MacDonald pointed to the hat rack inside the doorway. “Put yere's there with the rest.” He kept behind Lorenz and half pushed him towards the door at the far end. The smells from the food were now vying with the heat to win Lorenz's attention. “And remember, we say grace ere we eat.”

“Huh?”

“Tis a way of thanking the Maker for our food. Just do as the others do ere ye start to pile the food on your plate.” Mercifully they were through the narrow, stifling kitchen and into the dining room where the open front door and windows let in the breezes and flies, effectively taking most of the heat from the room.

It clearly was the main room with a huge table in the middle, but Lorenz was back in his emotional daze and didn't see the sewing machine set by the east window looking out onto the porch, nor the dark wainscot underneath the flowery wallpaper. The blue curtains outlining the windows escaped his eyes. Everyone was seated, and Anna called gaily, “Du sit here at my right, mein sohn.”

It looked like Martin would be in the chair next to him. Lorenz walked stiff legged to the table and collapsed in the seat. All the aromas mixed and settled into his stomach, and he stared straight ahead. He did not see Martin smile and nod his head in greeting. Mina sat in a higher chair at her mother's left. Young James was next to Mina and then Rolfe. MacDonald took the chair at the head of the table opposite his wife at the other end.

“Mr. Rolfe, will you please ask the blessing?” Anna spoke in German.

Lorenz watched in amazement as they all bowed their heads and evidently did something with their hands under the table. Then Rolfe began to speak, the guttural tones sweeping out with authority and ending with “Gott der Vater, Gott der Sohn, und Gott der Heilig Geist”.

It was unbelievable. The man he watched slow-skin another human being was sitting there reverently asking a blessing and the rest complied silently. Were they all crazy? A booming, “Amen,” from MacDonald brought everyone's attention back to the table.

His mother began by slicing the roast, placing a slab of meat on her plate, and then asking James for his. Once she had given James the meat, she passed the platter to Lorenz. “Take vhat du vant and then hand it to Martin. Everything vill be passed to your right.”

Lorenz grasped the heavy platter, the aroma from it bringing water into his mouth. He grabbed a slab with the large fork, flopped it on his plate while the juices ran in his mouth. After he passed the plate, he used his hand to raise the slab of meat to his mouth and the babble around the table ceased. Lorenz looked up and realized that six pairs of eyes were looking at him.

Anna reached over and from the left side of his plate lifted a smaller fork than the one on the platter. “Du use the fork und knife to eat with here.”

For the first time, Lorenz saw the eating utensils at the side of everyone's plate. Even little Mina had a mini fork in her fist. His face reddened, but he grasped the knife and tested the edge. “It ain't sharp,” he protested.

“It does nay need to be.” MacDonald's eyes were laughing again, laughing at him, he thought bitterly.

Lorenz slashed at the meat. To his surprise, the meat parted instantly, almost falling apart. His eyes widened. What sort of meat was this? It smelled like beef. He took a bite and the succulent, savory smell proved to be true. That food could be more than something to fuel his body was a new concept, and he savored the thought and the meat. “Hit's good, Mama.”

Anna smiled and for a moment she became a woman transformed as her face and eyes lighted. Lorenz realized that many men would find her as beautiful as her cooking. It was disturbing. He lowered his head again as ordered confusion returned with every one passing a dish or asking for a platter or condiment to be passed to them.

Anna and Martin both watched and assisted him as the dishes went around the table. Martin, puffing with importance, showed Lorenz the superiority of boiled potatoes being mashed with the fork before ladling the gravy over the top. Lorenz couldn't see the difference: they were still potatoes and they still had gravy over them.

Somehow everyone was served: Potatoes, gravy, fresh pickled onions and cucumbers, fresh greens coated with some sort of sweet-sour dressing, dark bread, butter, homemade apple butter, with beer for the adults, and milk for the children. Martin, like the younger children, drank milk, grinning at Lorenz as he poured from the pitcher. Lorenz in his bewilderment forgot that he didn't drink milk, let Martin fill his glass. Rather than insult his mother, he drank it, almost choking on the amount of cream still in it.

He couldn't remember eating like this. The time with the Comancheros had seen mostly beans, wild game, and biscuits. While he was with Rity, the food had been pretty much the same with the baked goods as extras, although there had been the occasional eggs, bacon, and potatoes. Later Rity's maid had cooked mostly Mexican dishes. This food was overwhelming and rich. His stomach stretched to the limit, and he knew he couldn't eat another bite.

“Vould anyone like dessert?” came his mother's voice. “I have a nice cottage pudding with a hard sauce.”

“Me, please,” shouted Young James.

“Me, me,” added Mina.

The older men agreed to desert as did Martin. Lorenz looked helplessly at his mother, and she smiled again. “It's all right. I'll save yours for later.” She rose and went to the kitchen. MacDonald followed to retrieve the coffee.

Lorenz sat back stunned. How had she known? He had been away for years; yet she had known what he was thinking. Was it possible?

The conversation resumed with the desert and coffee. Once everyone was served, Anna stated, “The hay has been cut and is ready to be brought in.”

The spoon stopped on its way to MacDonald's mouth. “Anna, ye dinna do that by yereself, did ye?”

She laughed. “Almost. Kasper helped me one day. He and Gerde vere here since business is so slow. Ve also need to arrange a day to go in and celebrate that mein sohn is home.”

MacDonald raised his eyebrows as Rolfe cut in. “Ja, gut idea. Ve need to relax before ve go after more horses. Ve'll need them before ve start branding again. Martin can ride in tomorrow and tell everybody. Vhat day du vant to do this? Du got a gut, strong poy now to help mitt der haying. Shouldn't take more than a day, ja?”

Anna smiled happily and then considered. “Ve can go in day after tomorrow. That gives everyone a chance ready to be.”

MacDonald looked askance at his wife. He knew she would be washing clothes and baking, plus cooking for all of them. “Are ye nay sure it wouldn't be better to make that two days after tomorrow?”

“Ja, I'm sure. I vant Kasper and Gerde to see how much Lorenz has grown.” She smiled at MacDonald. “It vill be fine.”

“Time to go den,” said Rolfe. “The meal vas delicious. Poys, tell Tante Anna, danke.”

Everyone rose amid a clatter of thank yous and compliments on the food while they trooped outside. “Y'all want some help?” Lorenz asked Martin. He was desperate to walk away from the hubbub and begin to think out his plans. Somehow it had sounded like he was going to be working, and working hard, at something he had never done.

“Naw, but glad for the company. I told y'all that my extra money would disappear now. Y'all will be helping Uncle Mac, and he won't need to hire an extra hand.” He jokingly aimed a blow at Lorenz's arm.

Lorenz grinned and danced away from the half-blow. He knew Martin was just horsing around. He did not doubt that he would be put to work, and he knew he wasn't going to be paid. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see both Rolfe and MacDonald talking. They were watching him, waiting to see what he would do. This was no time to run. He helped Martin harness the animals and lead them to the wagon.

MacDonald held Mina as the horses were backed between the wagon tongue and secured. The wagon drove off as everyone waved furiously and promised to see each other in another two days. You would have thought they hadn't spent the last few days and hours together. As the dust settled down, Mina asked her father, “Can I haff mein present now?”

A huge smile greeted her request. “Aye, my wee one.” He handed her to Anna. “Lorenz twill help me bring in the purchases and eating gear. Did ye wish the dirty clothes left there?”

“Ja.”

“There may be a slight problem. The clothes Lorenz had on are filthier than those he's wearing, and he nay has any other clothes. I dinna ken ye would be in such a rush to see yere brither, and I had hoped to buy more from Kasper as tis a rough time they've had carrying those who canna pay.”

Anna took Mina and looked at her husband. “I can cut off the pants and the sleeves of some of your old clothes I have in the trunk. They are too small for du now.”

The big man smiled. “My love, even so, they twill wrap around his skinny body.”

“It vill vork for a day,” retorted his wife and walked off.

MacDonald looked down at Lorenz. “Well, I tried. Come, we'll take in the gear and the gifts.

The washhouse was stuffier than the house and almost as hot. Lorenz wondered how anyone could work inside of it. MacDonald unceremoniously dumped the clothes into a basket and handed the bags and packages to Lorenz. Then he opened the liquor barrel and pulled out a bottle of wine. “She twill be wanting to cool this in the spring.”

Anna smiled at them as they walked in and hung their hats on the pegs. She was putting plates over the bowls that contained (to her eye) sufficient leftovers and scraping the food remnants into a tin.

Mina leaped at her father, certain that he would catch her. She squealed happily as he swung her up into the air. He turned and pointed to the small, kitchen table, and Lorenz deposited the packages where indicated.

The big man moved over and began to distribute his gifts. “Ah, what have we here?” MacDonald handed the doll to Mina. She began her squealing again. He set Mina down and handed the paper tablet to his wife. Then he proceeded to unpack the rest of the items. “They dinna have any dried apples, but these are dried grapes and quite tasty. Mayhap ye can do something with them.”

He turned from Anna and handed Lorenz another small bundle of tobacco. “Ye dinna see me get that did ye?” Lorenz took the tobacco in amazement. Then out came the colored chalk and the wrapped gloves. The latter he handed to Anna with a smile.

She was shaking her head at him. “Mr. MacDonald, du have spent more than du should. Ve may need that money later this year.”

“Bah, what good tis the working if I canna give ye what ye deserve? As tis, there should be more.”

She knew from past arguments, he would not change, and she smiled at him while she continued to shake her head. While Anna un-wrapped her gloves, MacDonald pulled out a letter and a newspaper. Lorenz blinked his eyes. Whatever printing was on that newspaper, it was nothing he'd seen before. Anna gasped when she saw them. “From Papa?” she asked.

“Aye, and Der Lutheraner. Anderson let me have them for early delivery ere I won his bet for him.”

Anna hugged him, tore open the letter, and began reading. “They are all vell. Tante Berta is with Christ.” She scanned the letter. “He asks vhen vill ve come for a visit again. Cattle and hog prices are good. I'll read it better later.” She put the letter with the periodical. “Du and Lorenz vill be a bath vanting tonight?” she asked her husband.

“Aye.”

“We just had one.” Lorenz wasn't sure he had heard right.

His mother turned grey eyes on him. “Du both smell of horses and camping, and your hair needs trimming. Du are not a girl.” She turned to MacDonald. “I vill vater need for the dishes and for the vash tomorrow. Vill du a bed for Lorenz be making?”

Lorenz felt his head swimming. He was determined to run for it when the chances were good, but until then it looked like he was going to be told how to look, how to act, and he damned well knew in the meantime, he was going to be put to work. He pocketed the extra tobacco as something he should keep with him.

His intuitions were correct. As soon as he and MacDonald walked out the door, he was set to work at the pump that somehow hooked to the spring and springhouse. It took pails of water to fill the huge copper kettle in the washhouse, the extra tubs, the buckets for household water, and the troughs circling the stone enclosed garden. MacDonald set to work using the lumber to build a plain, sturdy bed frame: four posts and wooden rails on the side. Meanwhile his mother was heating a smaller pan of water and working in that impossible kitchen. By the time MacDonald started tying the rope to the frame length ways, Lorenz felt his hands burning. This was harder than forking hay in the livery stable.

“Come give me a hand, laddie. I need the rope held steady as I do the cross tying.”

Lorenz gladly set the pail down and joined the big man. “Is she trying to drain all of Texas dry?” he asked.

MacDonald looked up and chuckled. “Nay, but it does seem so at times.”

When the ropes were knotted, they carried the bed inside as Mama held the door for them. Then she held open the stairway door in the living area and they carried it up a narrow flight of steps after much twisting and edging. Lorenz had thought MacDonald had made the bed cot size because of thrift. Now he knew the man simply hadn't wanted to do the work upstairs. A couple of windows were open on each side to let air through and the doorless, unfinished rooms were open, but it was still hotter up here than below. They set the bed in the northeast bedroom. “Tis smaller, but twill be cooler at night once we have a mattress. Some day there twill be a real bed up here and the rest of the rooms finished.”

Lorenz looked out the window over the bed and looked down at the back part of the washhouse where two filled washtubs were set to catch the sun. The garden, pastures, and the foothills stretched into the distance. He could see enough greenery on the rock-rising hills to realize there must be a stand of oak and pine trees on them. MacDonald mopped his forehead. “Tis back in those hills the wild horses run in the summer months. They like the coolness and there tis a small stream with meadows for grazing.”