Chasing Clovers (6 page)

"
I hope you're hungry." She looked at the boy.

"
I sure am," John replied from behind her. This time he didn't startle her, she heard him washing up on the porch and had expected him through the door any minute.

"
I'm hungwey too, Papa," Emily protested.

"
I bet you are, Angel." He gave Livy a wink before he sat down at the table. "You're growin' up awful fast."

"
No she ain't," Ben disagreed, "She's the same size as she was last year."

"
Am not." Emily pouted.

"
Of course you're not, Angel. Ben here is just jealous because he hasn't grown much this past year himself." John gave his son a warning look. "Isn't that right, Benjamin?"

"
Yeah, I s'ppose."

"
That's better." John picked up his knife and fork. "Now let's dig in. I'm starved, could smell these pancakes a mile away." He gave Livy another wink.

She hoped he had something in his eye, refusing to acknowledge his attention. Her face heated, and she took her seat.

"
Well, eat while it's still hot." She motioned toward the steaming flapjacks.

The Taylor's were seated around the table. They took turns passing the pancakes and syrup around until everyone's plate was full. Pleased that she'd actually made her first meal, she smiled at her accomplishment. After slathering her own pancake in syrup, she took a bite. The pancake was horrible. She gagged and picked up her coffee―John did the same―and they took a long swig.

Face red, she said
. "They're a little salty."

John took another bite, and choked it down.
"Maybe a little, but they're still edible."

"
No they ain't Pa, they're horrible." Ben made a face as he pushed the plate away.

"
Benjamin Taylor," John yelled.

She
put up her hands to stop him from saying more. "No, Ben's right. They are horrible. I can't even eat them."

"
See," Ben said to his father. "Ma used to make good pancakes."

"
Ben." John's eyes deepened with sadness.

Livy wiggled on her chair. She wanted to flee the kitchen. It was another reminder that she didn't belong here. Her feet fidgeted underneath the table. A strong yearning for Emma swept over her, and her heart ached to feel the one comfort she had ever known.

"
I like 'em," Emily piped up, breaking the uncomfortable silence, syrup dripping from her chin.

John laughed and gazed at his daughter, the sadness gone from his eyes. "Well, you eat 'em up pumpkin."

She chewed
happily as she took another bite.

"
How about some toast?" John asked Ben and Livy.

She stood. "I can make…"

"
NO." Both John and Ben shouted.

John was already up at the counter.
"I'll make the toast."

"
I think I can make some toast," she muttered.

"
Never doubted that you could," John said placing some bread over the stove to heat, "but you slaved over the pancakes already this morning, so I'll make the toast."

She knew he was being nice, and he thought she'd ruin the toast as well. She shrugged. He was right, she'd never made toast before either, and wasn't about to push her luck.

The dishes done, and the kitchen clean,
Livy decided to go out and see what was in the garden. Out on the porch she was blasted by the putrid smell of cows. She placed her hand over her nose to block the awful stench.

"
You get used to it," Ben said, from behind her.

She turned and saw
the boy sitting on the step whittling away at a piece of wood. "Does your Pa let you have a knife?" she asked, concerned.

He scowled up at her. "I'm not no baby."

"
I never said you were. I thought maybe he didn't know."

"
He gave it to me." Ben didn't look up. The short blade sliced away little pieces of wood to lie around his feet.

"
Oh, I see." She didn't. But she wasn't his mother. Her vision blurred—she wasn't anyone's mother. Blinking back the tears, she pointed at the square patch off to the side of the house. "Is that the garden?" she asked, changing the subject and pushing thoughts of Emma aside.

"
Nope, those are weeds."

She knew he thought her daft, but she didn
't care. "Well, Mr. Smarty Pants, where is the garden, then?"

He lifted his hand and pointed a few feet ahead of them.
"Right there."

Well, now she was sure he thought her daft. She glanced in front of them. Lifting her skirt, she went to inspect the bountiful fare. She stared at some tall green stems.

"
What are you standin' here for?" Ben asked, beside her now.

"
Well, I'm not sure what everything is."

He gave an exasperated sigh, lifted his hand and pointed to the green vine-like stems on the end. "Those are peas. Next to them are carrots, and then beans, radishes, onions, lettuce, and potatoes. The ones at the very back is corn."

She took
a mental note of everything he said. "Did you plant all these?"

He bobbed his head. "Me and my Pa did."

She scan
ned the garden. It was quite vast and must've taken John and Ben weeks to plant.

He turned and ambled over to the porch, picked up two buckets, and handed her one. "These are what we put them in when we pick 'em."

Taking the bucket from him, she headed into the garden, starting where Ben had said the peas were.

"
Wacha makin' for supper?"

She
hadn't gotten that far. "Um…what would you like?"

"
I like roast. So does Pa." He eyed her. "But it's hard to make."

She took a deep breath and ignored his last comment. "Okay, roast it is." Heaven help her, she had no clue. "Ben, what kind of vegetables do you like with your roast?"

He shrugged. "Potatoes are good, and Em likes carrots."

The mention of the girl's name caused Livy's spine to stiffen. She had often called her daughter by that nickname.
Breathe. In. Out.
She ground her teeth together. Tightened her grip on the bucket, and forced the painful memory to the back of her mind.

"
Ben, Ben, let's skip!" Emily yelled, bounding around the corner of the house, rope in hand.

"
Later, I'm busy in the garden," he hollered back.

"
Me help too." She dropped the rope and ran over to Livy. "Me help too, Miss Liby." She pulled on Livy's dress.

Refusing to look at the child, Livy tried to dismiss her, and continued picking peas. But Emily tugged harder on her skirt. Her body rigid, she wanted to tell the girl to leave her alone and go away, but she knew what might happen if John found out. Taking a deep breath, she pulled all her fears and frustrations inside. "Yes, you can help."

Her bucket was full of peas and carrots, and the weight of it all had her bending over while she walked. Ben's bucket was half full of potatoes. They hauled them into the kitchen to be cleaned and cooked. A task she was sure she could do. After she put the bucket on the counter, Livy searched the cupboards and icebox for the roast, but came up empty handed. Drawing back the curtain, she called out the kitchen window to Ben. "Where would I find a roast?"

He rolled his eyes, jumped off the porch, and ran to the middle of the yard. He pulled open a door, and disappeared into the ground. The cellar was outside in the yard. She should've known.

Reaching inside the bucket, she
began pulling out the potatoes and dunked them into the bucket of cool water beside her on the counter. A couple minutes later, Ben bounded through the back door carrying a slab of meat. He slapped it on the counter with a bang, and then he was out the door, running across the yard, before she could say thank you.

Staring after him, she
didn't quite know what to make of the young boy. She didn't seem to have much of a problem being around him, like she did his sister. He seemed like a good kid. "Humph," who was she kidding? It wasn't like she had any experience to know.

A loud scraping soun
d came from behind her. She spun on her heal and watched Emily push a chair up to the counter. She had decided yesterday to ignore her, but could feel her conscience tell her otherwise.

She rummaged through her cookbook in s
earch of a recipe. This was her second day here, and she was trying to cook a bloody roast. Was she crazy? Why couldn't Ben have asked for something easier, like soup and sandwiches? She moaned. Even pancakes had seemed an easy task, and still she had messed them up.

The girl
stood beside her on the chair, waiting for Livy to tell her what to do. How was she supposed to tell her what she didn't know? She was almost to the end of the book, and still she hadn't found anything that said
roast
in it.

"
A lot of good that was. That thing cost me a whole dollar." She tossed the book onto the counter.

A soft knock at the kitchen door interrupted her rant
and she went to see who it was. A tall black man stood in front of her, holding a cowboy hat in his large hands. He gave her a wide smile, his white teeth contrasting with his dark skin.

"
May I help you?" she asked, peering around his broad frame to look for John.

"
No ma'am." His smile grew bigger. "I'm here to help you."

"
I beg your pardon?" She never allowed herself to be alone with men, not after that night long ago.

"
Mr. Taylor. He sent me down. I'm Ezekiel, I cook for the all the hands on the T-Bar."

"
Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized why he'd come. "Your help will be most appreciated."

She smiled up at him, and stepped back to allow him into the warm kitchen
.

Ezekiel was so tall he had to duck his head to get inside. He placed his hat on the table and went to the basin, pulled up his shirt sleeves and washed his hands
.

She
waited until he was done, and followed suit.

"
Zeek, Zeek!" Emily hopped up and down on her chair.

"
Hello, sprite." He patted the top of her head."You gonna help?"

"
Yup."

Ezekiel addressed
Livy. "What we makin' today?"

"
A roast." She pointed at the slab of meat still sitting on the table.

Ezekiel slapped his
hands together. "Okay, a roast it is."

"
Um…Ezekiel?" she hesitated, "I've no idea what to do with it." She was done lying about how little she could cook. Being truthful was the way she was going to learn.

His warm smile told her he didn
't judge her, and for that she was relieved. For the next hour Ezekiel showed Livy how to prepare the roast, and how to get the fire up in the stove to cook it.

"
Remember to open the damper." He reached over the stove to turn the knob. "Cause if you don't, you'll fill the house with smoke."

Her mind was full of so many things that she hadn't thought to write anything down. A few minutes later the roast was in the oven and the vegetables were cooking on the stove. Ben came in and announced he was hungry for some lunch. She had no clue what to cook for him, and searched frantically around the kitchen. Ezekiel suggested she heat up the leftover stew from yesterday. He smiled his approval when she placed bread and butter on the table as well.

"
Well, it's time for me to go. Those cowboys don't like it when they have to wait to eat either," Ezekiel chuckled, picking up his hat.

She
touched his shoulder. "Thank you, Ezekiel," she said, now relaxed in his presence.

"
I can come back tomorrow to help again?"

"
Yes, I would like that very much."

"
Okay then." He plopped his hat on his head and headed back to the cook shack. She stood on the porch and watched him go. A warm breeze blew down from the mountains to caress her face, but all she smelled were the cows and chickens. Would she ever smell anything else? She covered her nose with her hand. The children had been fed and were in the field playing tag, so Livy thought she'd take a walk around.

She stepped off the porch
and crossed the yard. To the left was a corral with a few cows penned inside. She watched the enormous animals saunter lazily inside their pen. Next to the corral stood a red and white barn with paint chipping off the door. Careful not to get her shoes muddy, she lifted the hem of her skirt and went inside.