Calder Grit by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey [Dailey, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE SUN-MELLOWED DAYS OF OCTOBER HAD FLED. NOW A COLORLESS November sky hung over fields of frost-silvered brown stubble.

Above snow-dusted foothills, the peaks were blanketed in white.

Cattle on the ranches clustered for warmth and protection. Horses grew shaggy coats as the days shortened and the cold weather closed in.

Thanks to the wood from the lumber mill, the Anderson shack was as well fortified as the family could make it. A sturdy plank door with a sliding bolt had replaced the cowhide that had hung over the opening. Timbers had been added to the roof to keep it from collapsing under the weight of snow. The single window had a hinged wooden shutter, and a thick layer of straw covered the floor. More straw had been stuffed into every possible crack and opening. On the windward side of the house, an extra layer of tar paper had been added to the inner wall.

But even with a fire in the small iron stove, and layers of clothing on her body, the warmth was barely enough to keep Hanna’s teeth from chattering as she crawled out from under the quilts, leaving the younger children asleep. It was her job to help her mother make breakfast for the family—hot oatmeal porridge with a little milk that Lars had bought from a neighbor who had a cow.

It was still dark outside. Lars and Alvar had gone out to break the ice on the water barrel, feed, water, and hitch up the horses, and bring in wood for the stove. After breakfast they’d both be gone for the rest of the day, Lars to help a neighbor with his house and Alvar to work the closing shift at the lumber mill ahead of the coming snow. Hanna would spend time teaching the younger children their reading, writing, and arithmetic. Maybe next year they’d be able to attend school in Blue Moon. But this winter there would be no way to get there.

Standing by the stove, savoring its warmth, Hanna stirred the porridge with a big wooden spoon. The sight of the gooey, gray mass turned her stomach. Even the pasty smell made her want to gag. She didn’t want to eat. All she really wanted to do was crawl back under the quilt and sleep. She’d been so tired the past few weeks, as if the energy had been sucked out of her body. And no amount of rest seemed to make any difference.

The men came inside, pulling off their worn woolen gloves, their faces reddened with cold. They added milk to their bowls, spooned the warm oatmeal into their mouths, and washed it down with steaming black coffee. As was usual, they didn’t do much talking, but Alvar’s gaze, concerned and questioning, met Hanna’s across the table, as if he’d already guessed what she only suspected. She turned away, unable to keep looking at him.

Breakfast done, they went out again. Hanna listened as the sounds of their leaving faded away. Her body felt an urgent need for the privy, but she had waited to excuse herself until the men were gone.

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