Christmas at Carnton (Carnton 0.5)(31)

“This be Missus Prescott’s first time.”

“Is that so?”

Aletta nodded. “We had chickens and cows, but no pigs.”

“Oh, you ain’t lived, Missus Prescott, ’til you tasted fresh sausage fried up straight from the grinder.” Tempy briefly closed her eyes. “That and warm tenderloin with all them mashed sweet potatoes, greens, and stewed apples we made this mornin’. And backbone stew’s good eatin’ too!”

Captain Winston smiled. “Backbone stew is the best. Especially with corn bread slathered in butter.”

“Tempy!” a woman called. “We need your help over here.”

Aletta turned to see a group of women standing beneath a massive elm tree. And near them, a large tub perched over a blazing fire. What looked to be a rope and pulley system had been looped above it over a high branch, and a team of mules stood hitched nearby. Tempy moved to join them and Aletta swiftly fell into step beside her.

“Oh no, Missus Prescott.” Tempy laid a hand on her arm. “You best not be helpin’ at this station, ma’am. Not your first time. Wait here, and Missus McGavock will be along soon. She’ll give you a task.”

Aletta found herself somewhat relieved, not at all convinced she wanted to see any part of this event quite so close up. And yet she also wasn’t, considering the man standing beside her.

“Precisely how much do you know about hog killing, Mrs. Prescott?” the Captain asked.

“I believe the question should be, Captain Winston, how much do I want to know about it?”

“And your answer would be?”

“As little as possible.”

He laughed and she found herself smiling a little, too, sensing an olive branch in his demeanor.

“I remember my first hog killing.” He looked down. “My father found me crying behind the barn.”

“How old were you?”

His brow furrowed. “Twenty-two, I think.”

The seriousness of his tone coaxed a laugh from her. And even without addressing the issue wedged squarely between them, she felt the tension between them lessening.

“I was about four years old,” he continued. “Maybe five. I don’t remember much more about that day, other than what my father said to me.”

She found herself waiting, wanting to hear what he said next.

“He told me that, as a boy, he’d had much the same reaction as I’d had. And that while he didn’t cry anymore when it came to the task of the day, he told me it was crucial, before we started anything, that we thank God for those animals’ deaths and what they meant to us as a family. It meant we would eat for the winter. That we wouldn’t go hungry. Although, after that first hog killing, my parents said I refused to eat pork for weeks.”

She smiled at the image in her mind of him as a little boy.

“But eventually”—a touch of humor tipped one side of his mouth—“bacon won out, and I gave in.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Bacon is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Yes, ma’am, it is. Especially fried up good and crisp.”

He held her gaze, and she sensed he was about to broach a more delicate topic when she spotted her saving grace walking in their direction. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I need to see Mrs. McGavock and ask her where she’d like me to work. I wish you the best with . . . whatever it is you’re doing today.”

His smile came easily. “You too, ma’am.”

Aletta joined Mrs. McGavock and, to her relief, the woman asked her to help with seasoning and bagging the sausage as it came ready. That, she could do. Mrs. McGavock even had a stool brought outside for her. And as the women gathered around the tables, visiting and talking as they worked throughout the morning, Aletta found herself looking forward to this week when volunteers from the auction would begin meeting at the church.

Everyone broke for lunch. The men were served first, then the women and children. But for some reason, Aletta wasn’t hungry. Not like she usually was. When the group started back for the afternoon, she joined in. But shortly after, she felt a wave of fatigue and rubbed the ache in her lower back.

Tempy came alongside her. “You go on back to the house and rest for a while. Everyone’ll understand. I’ll keep a watch out for Andrew for you. So will Miss Clouston. I saw her with the two boys earlier havin’ themselves a fine ol’ time.”

Aletta held back for a second. “Are you sure?”

Tempy nodded.

Hesitating only briefly, Aletta touched her arm, and surprise showed in the older woman’s expression. “Thank you, Tempy.”

A handful of seconds ticked past.

“You most welcome, ma’am.”

Aletta removed her soiled apron and walked back to the house, looking up at the window to her and Andrew’s room above the kitchen. How had they gotten here? She knew the answer, in one sense, of course. She’d applied for the job, then one thing had led to another. But . . .

It was more the fact of how swiftly life could change. One minute life was fine. And the next, your world was turned upside down, looking nothing like it had before.

She climbed the stairs to her room and didn’t bother taking off her shawl before she pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. She’d scarcely laid her head down before sleep claimed her.