Softly Falling by Carla Kelly

Author:Carla Kelly [Carla Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Cedar Fort, Inc.
Published: 2014-11-09T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

You know, Pierre, I should feel some guilt at abandoning my entire day’s plan, but this was better,” Lily said as she sat on the doorstep after school with the Indian, who had returned from adding more nails to roofs, his orders from Jack Sinclair before he rode off the place. “Month by month instead of year by year is perfect.”

“Chantal is only six,” Pierre said. “Think how small would be her winter count of what she remembers. And your idea of May to May was best. It still gives them much to think about.”

Too much, she thought, drawing up her knees to rest her chin on them. It was vastly unladylike, but she was tired. She turned to Pierre. “The Sansevers each drew such sad pictures for March! Come, I’ll show you.”

He followed her into the classroom, looking where she pointed at the individual winter counts spread on each desk. His smile looked wistful to Lily as he ran his finger above each sad picture, as if to touch it would invite ruin. “But look how true to character, Lily. Nick has drawn Jean falling off a horse; Amelie’s picture is a headstone; and here is a little girl in tears for Chantal.” He looked away and Lily saw his shoulders rise and fall. “We all cried except Amelie.”

“She does hold things inside,” Lily said as she traced the outline of the tombstone.

“What is this?” Pierre asked, touching Luella’s February. “Two arms with red dots? She does have an imagination, but we didn’t have smallpox last winter.”

“It’s not that simple,” Lily told him, wondering how much to say and fearing to betray the child. “You mustn’t say anything, but her mother pinches Luella’s arms and leaves welts.” She touched the little picture of pain. “Could it be that our winter counts are ways to say things we cannot say?”

Pierre took several audible breaths, then touched June on Luella’s winter count, which showed a girl in braids gathering flowers. “We have pretty wildflowers.” He moved back to the Sansever drawings for June and tapped Chantal’s drawing of a girl washing many dishes. “It was the cow gather, and there were so many consortium members going from ranch to ranch. Jack even drafted Preacher and Stretch to help Madeleine and the children in the kitchen. You should have heard them complain!”

“My dears lead different lives on a ranch where they are so close,” Lily said.

“They are your dears, aren’t they?” he asked.

Lily nodded, unable to speak. She went to the board to erase i-m-m-u-n-e, which had stayed there through a perfunctory arithmetic lesson shortened so everyone could return to their winter counts. “I didn’t plan for them to become my dears,” she said, happy that he couldn’t see her face. “It’s only been a few weeks! How does this happen so fast?”

She heard his chuckle. “I know I’m being silly,” she said.

“No, not that. This picture you drew in . . . in August. Jack will be impressed.”

She turned around to see him pointing at the big animal with the white forehead and red body.

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